Diclaimer: I don't own Merlin

A/N: I'll probably be closing the poll in several days.


"Gwen," Merlin began. "What are your views on magic?"

Merlin stared at her, waiting for her response. She looked uncomfortable, as though the soft grass beneath her had dried into brittle needles.

"What if we talked about something else?" she suggested.

"Why?" Merlin persisted. "I'm sure you have an opinion."

Gwen sat up, bits of grass sticking out of her hair. "Merlin!" she hissed. "Magic is illegal. I've seen people die because they mentioned it so casually."

Merlin smiled. "We're in an open field, Gwen. No one is around."

Gwen shifted, glancing into the trees behind him, as though Uther's guards were just waiting for her to say something before they came bounding out of the forrest.

C'mon," he prodded. "What do you think of magic?"

Gwen bit her lip.

"You first," she finally said.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, smiling crookedly. "Fine. But you're not getting out of this," he said accusingly. He pulled up a blade of grass.

"We'll see," she said, allowing herself a small smile.

Merlin fiddled with the string of green, weaving it between his fingers. "I think that magic is one of the most amazing things in this world," he said with conviction. Gwen's eyes widened.

Smiling widely, Merlin stared off into the distance. In such a peaceful setting, he hardly needed to relax at all to reach for the feeling of magic coursing through his veins, connecting with the earth, spreading to the flow of nature around him. It was like dipping into a cool pool of water on a hot summer's day.

"Uther seems certain that magic is evil," Gwen reminded.

Merlin laughed.

With the way he was connected with magic, several of the birds nearby reacted to the sound and burst into song.

"Magic is about as evil as..." Merlin ground his teeth, trying to some up with a proper similie. He leaned forward and looked Gwen in the eyes. "I've heard people say that magic is like a sword – that only the user can decide how it's used."

Gwen nodded slowly. She could see that.

But Merlin shook his head. "But it's not; magic is very much alive. Swords are weapons, they were made to kill things. Magic just is... like a forget-me-not, I suppose." He picked one of the little blue flowers and held it in front of his eyes.

"I've seen people use magic terrible things," Gwen said, sounding uncertain. She picked a flower of her own. "Forget-me-nots aren't very dangerous."

Merlin grimaced. "Okay," he admitted, and threw the flower over his shoulder. "Maybe it's not like a flower. Um... what about fire? It can destroy, but it can also bring life."

Gwen considered this. "Maybe," she said uncertainly.

"I know what you mean – there just simply isn't a good metaphor for magic," Merlin said with a sigh, purposefully misinterpreting her reaction.

"How do you know so much about magic?" Gwen asked hesitantly.

"Ealdor is in Cenred's kingdom. Magic isn't illegal there," he said in a roundabout way, not really answering the question. He leaned forward. "So...? What about you? I answered first, just like you wanted."

Gwen pushed her dark curls behind her ear.

"I- I don't really know," she said nervously, not meeting his gaze.

"Do you think magic is evil?" he asked, his eyes boring into her head.

"No," Gwen said quickly, glancing up for a split second. Then she looked back down at the grass. "At least, I'm fairly certain that it's not."

Merlin smiled.

"I mean," she continued, looking up and this time meeting his eyes, "Uther may have convicted some bad people, but..." She took a deep breath.

"...not all of them were evil," Merlin finished for her, hope coursing throughout him.

Gwen nodded. "Some of them were children," she said sadly. "They didn't seem evil to me."

"Then they probably weren't," Merlin said kindly. He went on to say, staring off in the distance, a sudden hardness in his voice, "Sometimes I hate Uther, when I think about the things that he's done, the pain and suffering he's caused." He sighed.

"But...?" Gwen prompted.

"But he's not a completely horrible person," Merlin admitted grudgingly. "He's just a bitter man who has too much power. We could do far worse than Uther Pendragon."

"But we could also do far better," Gwen said with conviction.

Merlin gave Gwen a significant look. "Truer words have never been spoken," he said, thinking of Arthur.

"Merlin, why did you want to talk about magic?" Gwen asked, her eyes narrowed.

Merlin shrugged. "No reason."

Gwen pursed her lips. "Come on Merlin, there has to be a reason," she said.

Merlin stayed silent.

"Merlin," she said, this time it was a command.

Merlin licked his lips. "I feel lonely sometimes," he said honestly.

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because magic is something that I have been used to seeing, used to living with my entire life, and now..." he trailed off, not sure where he should go with this. There was a large part of him that wanted to tell her what he was. It was killing him to see the people suffering from maladies and disasters that he could fix with a snap of his fingers. Merlin was practically desperate for someone who could scheme with him, someone who would sit still while he ranted about the problems converging around him. While Gaius was a sympathetic listener, he was too unyielding in his opinion that keeping Merlin safe was the top priority.

Gwen had a funny look on her face. "Do you really miss magic so much?" she asked.

"All the time," he answered.

Gwen frowned. "Are you going to do anything about it?" she asked, staring at him with an intensity that would unnerve most people.

Merlin shifted.

"Look Merlin," she said, reaching out and grabbing his hands, "you have to move on. No matter what you think or what I think, magic is still illegal. You should let these feelings go – I mean, what if someone found out? If you get hurt..."

Gwen took a deep breath. "I hate to admit it, especially after hearing you talk about it with such... passion, but magic scares me," she said, looking miserable.

Merlin smiled sideways and pulled his hands from out of her grasp. "I know," he said shortly. "It scares most people in Camelot. Uther has instilled these fears within the younger generations, and I imagine they'll stay for a very long time."

Gwen looked down at her hands, ashamed.

"Guinevere," Merlin said, lifting her chin, like a parent trying to cheer up a weary child. She looked into his eye. "I don't blame you; it's Uther's fault, not yours. Besides, it's only a silly subject – nothing to do with us, eh?" he reminded her, a fake smile on his face.

Gwen let out a weak laugh. "Only a silly subject, huh?" she asked.

"As long as no one else is listening," he replied with a smile.

Maybe he would tell her later. But not yet. She wasn't ready to be alienated as the only other person to know his secret. Plus, Merlin mused, Gwen did have a tendency to overtly worry herself when Merlin's welfare was involved. If she found out he had magic, she would probably spend her nights pacing the floor, wondering when someone would find out.

"I think it's time to go," Merlin said, pulling himself to his feet. He lent Gwen a hand. "I want to have those stables mucked out before it gets dark."

"And I have mending to do," she said with a sigh, but she was smiling.

"So, did you have a good afternoon off?" Merlin asked, looking at her sideways.

"Absolutely, thank you," she replied, bobbing.

"Good," he said firmly.

O o O

"So how did the picnic go?" Gaius asked casually.

"Good," Merlin replied, putting the dishes into a bucket, so he'd remember to wash them later.

"Really?" Gaius questioned; he was fishing for details.

Merlin would not be baited. "Yes, the weather was great," he said. "Gwen and I had a fun time."

"Purely platonic?" Gaius teased.

Merlin frowned. "Quite," he said without emotion, shoving the basket back into the cupboard.

"Even for Gwen?" he asked.

Merlin turned on the spot and glared at his mentor. Then his expression softened. "Maybe not," he said quietly. He gave Gaius a pained smile. "What should I do?"

When Gaius realized that his ward was being serious, he set down the bottles he'd been mixing and sat down at the table. "Can you not find it in you to like her at all?" he inquired.

Merlin flinched. He took a seat across from the physician. "No. I love Gwen as a sister, and that's the only love I'll ever hold for her," he said.

Gaius was silent for a few moments.

"This may be hard for you to understand," Merlin continued carefully, "but with all I have to do around here – protecting Arthur, doing chores for Arthur, doing errands for you – adding romance into the mix would just be chaotic."

Gaius nodded slowly.

"Plus," Merlin added sneakily, "if I did feel that way about Gwen, I'd probably want to tell her my secret."

Gaius narrowed his eyes. "Merlin..." he warned.

Merlin grinned. "I know," he said.

"I'm not going to," he added quietly.

O o O

"Merlin, what on earth are you doing?" the prince asked in the loud, obnoxious tone he used whenever he was getting ready to pick on Merlin.

The thread of magic Merlin had been following vanished, and his mind was unwillingly dragged back to the dim interior of his bedroom. He mentally cursed. He'd been so close!

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted.

Merlin grudgingly opened his eyes. "I'm trying to relax," he said testily, emphasizing the 'trying' part of the sentence.

Arthur snorted. "This is no time for relaxing, Merlin. King Bayard and his envoy are expected to arrive here in five days," he reminded pompously. "I want you to report to the head of staff and offer your services."

Merlin made a face. Gilroy was the head of staff, and he was the pickiest person Merlin knew; which was probably the reason the man liked George so much. "But I still have all the chores you gave me!" he exclaimed. "You're not letting me off are you?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course not," Arthur said. "I still need someone to bring me breakfast, and clean my chambers, and draw my bath..."

Merlin put his hands up. "All right, all right. I get the idea," he growled.

Arthur folded his arms and tapped his feet.

"What?" Merlin asked, unnerved by the stare.

"Merlin, you are still on your bed," Arthur said, eyebrows raised. "Get off."

"Now?" Merlin complained.

"Yes."

"But its almost time for bed!" he declared.

Arthur smiled. "Correction. It's almost time for me to go to bed. You on the other hand..."

Merlin glared at Arthur. "I hate you sometimes."

Arthur gave him a pinched smile. "Merlin," he warned.

Merlin hauled himself to his feet. "One day, I'm going to fall over dead from exhaustion. And do you know what? It will be all your fault," he ranted.

"Don't be stupid. You don't have that many responsibilities," Arthur said with a laugh, leading his grumbling manservant out of his quarters. "You're only a servant."

"Ha. Ha," Merlin said, eyes narrowed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "To the kitchens, now," the prince said in a sing-song voice, pushing Merlin in the general direction. "Then come up in an hour and have a bath drawn for me, won't you?"

Merlin watched the prince strut in the opposite direction.

"Arrogant prathead," Merlin muttered under his breath. He was forced to count slowly backwards from ten, reminding himself that Arthur was still young. He'd only known Merlin for a month. The unicorn test could only happen if he actually managed to kill a unicorn. Gwen hadn't had the pleasure of lecturing him yet. Merlin twitched. He wondered if he should bring her in and have her do it now.

Groaning, he marched off towards the dining hall, which was the place Gilroy was most likely to be at that hour (which was not located in or even by the kitchens, no matter what Arthur thought). He grudgingly reminded himself that he still had time to find the druids – even if he did come out looking like the living dead from the lack of sleep.

O o O

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, young warlock?" the dragon questioned, settling down on the island of rock.

"Nothing, really," Merlin said, letting the small wizard's light bob into the air above him. "I just need someplace quiet."

The dragon looked amused. "And you find the caverns underneath the castle to be the most quiet place in Camelot?"

"For the moment, yes," Merlin answered with an exasperated sighed.

"I suppose the news of the Mercian peace treaty has forced everyone into a tizzy fit," the dragon said with a laugh.

Merlin chuckled. "That's definitely one way of putting it. Even in the middle of the night, Gilroy has every servant in the castle scrubbing the walls, ceilings, and floors from top to bottom! Actually, if I didn't know better, I'd say the head of staff was a sorcerer. I swear he hasn't gone to sleep in over thirty-six hours."

"What are you supposed to be doing right now?" the dragon asked. "I cannot imagine Arthur letting you off so easily."

"Believe me, he isn't," Merlin said. "He gave me a mountain of chores to do the morning, along with Gilroy, and even Gaius, who knew I already had a million of other things to do. So I cheated and used magic just so I could get a half-hour break."

"Did you know?" he continued, looking Kilgharrah in the eye, "That I haven't had breakfast for a solid week? And I've missed supper twice."

"Very unfortunate, I'm sure," the dragon drawled.

Merlin snorted.

"Right, well, as long as I have a break, I am now officially going to finish this," he said, plopping himself down on the stone ground.

"Ah, meditation," the dragon said, recognizing the position Merlin was folding himself into, and more importantly, the subtle changes in the way magic flowed around the warlock as he prepared himself. "Most magic users learn the art of meditation to learn to control their magic to a better extent, but I assume you have a different reason?"

Merlin nodded. "When I started, it was because my levels to accessing magic were increasing, and I was having trouble controlling the large amount of power. Ha! I nearly burned down a forest trying to light a campfire," Merlin related, remembering the incident with a level of remorse. "The druids learned of my predicament and taught me how to control my breathing and focus on my magic. What they didn't realize, is that I can see magic, not just sense it. I wasn't even aware that I was the only person who could."

Merlin had always been able to see magic, but until he'd learned to properly focus, the gift nature had provided him remained fettered in the shadows of his mind.

Kilgharrah nodded. "You are the only human tied as closely to magic as a dragon or a unicorn. We also have the ability to 'see' magic. It is how we can tell who can use magic, and who cannot," he said.

"And that is why I need peace and quiet," Merlin said. "I am searching for the druids – Iseldir's clan if I can locate them."

Kilgharrah stood. "Then I will leave you to your peace," he said, and took off.

Merlin breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. It helped when he imagined the grassy field where he and Gwen ate their picnic. The trees swaying nearby... the wildflowers... the sun warming the side of his neck...

Beneath his eyelids, his irises flickered.

The muscles on his face remained impassive, except for the corner of his mouth, which twitched upwards.

Most magic theorists described magic as a web. In reality, magic was more of an ocean – where more organized magic just happened to shape itself into a web-like pattern. In the beginning years of becoming Arthur's court sorcerer, the reason Merlin's magic had troubled him so greatly was because more and more of it was being drawn from the raw ocean of magic, rather than the organized web. The barriers his body had instinctively built as a child in order to protect him from such raw power had begun to disintegrate, leaving him with rather unpredictable outcomes when it came to spellcasting. It was the end of the beginning.

When the druids had first discovered his ability to see the magic web, to focus in on the details rather than simply sense the power, they sat him down and told him to start meditating, while they performed various spells. Merlin had been very interested to discover that not only did each spell have it's own pattern, but so did each user. With practice, Merlin found that he could weave the raw magic into the same pattern that the web formed automatically – with a significantly higher power level. Not only that, but he was able to locate any magic user within a hundred miles of himself, just by looking for their signature.

Merlin's breathing deepened.

There were at least three active magic users in Camelot, but he had learned about them from the first week of coming there. He'd been surprised, as well as a little resentful at the fact that he hadn't known about them back when he'd been young and so alone. Merlin passed them over. None of them were in a position to aid him anyways.

The druids were most likely to be in spots that were secluded and had a high-density of magical webbing – like the Valley of the Fallen Kings. If only he could locate Iseldir... He'd nearly located the man before Arthur had walked in on him. Of all the druid leaders, he was the most sensible, Merlin thought.

A trace of his magic racing above the web, Merlin searched for any familiar spells that had been used recently.

Ah... there were some strange patterns. But no, he couldn't tell where they were coming from. Frowning mentally, Merlin swiveled and sped in the opposite direction.

O o O

"I found him, Kilgharrah!" Merlin called excitedly, jolting out of his trance. "How long was I?"

"I do not pay attention to such trivial matters as human time frames," came the reply.

Merlin rolled his eyes. He decided to ignore the dragon's comment and continued, "Finding him was harder than I thought. Someone in their camp knew how to achieve a dampening field."

Dampening fields had been invented to keep powerful sorcerers from sensing each other – either by scrying, meditation, or the innate ability some powerful sorcerers seemed to possess. If Merlin hadn't been Merlin, there was no way he would have been able to find them unless he had accidentally stumbled into their camp.

"When will you contact them?" Kilgharrah asked.

"Either today or tomorrow, depending on how long I've been gone," Merlin replied.

He stood up, rubbing his rear end. Inner peace or not, stones were not a comfortable material to sit on.

Just before he exited the cave, the dragon grumbled, "You were meditating for a little less than three hours."

Merlin paused, turned, thought about saying something sarcastic, then decided against it. Dragons... he thought with fond exasperation. Then he hurried through the tunnels. He hoped that nobody had missed him.

O o O

"Merlin!" a maid named Lileth flagged him down.

"Yes?" he asked, pausing in his quickened pace.

"Prince Arthur has been looking everywhere for you!" she exclaimed.

"How long?" he asked, his heart sinking.

Lileth considered then said, "A half hour, maybe more." She gave him a look of pity.

Merlin sighed. "Do you know where his royal highness is at the moment?" he asked.

"Probably down on the archery range. I think he grabbed Edward when he couldn't find you," she said, and this time she was less sympathetic.

Merlin groaned. Great, give Edward another reason to hate him. He knew Edward probably had a mountain of his own chores to do, let alone set up Arthur's targets.

"Thanks," he yelled back, already sprinting down the corridor.

O o O

"Sorry Edward," Merlin panted, skidding to a halt on the grass. "I was finishing an errand for Gaius."

Edward said nothing, but Merlin noticed that the servant's actions of pushing the target into the ground were more forced. Merlin sighed. After he'd been replaced, Edward had been reassigned a high-ranking job as the servant of a council member. But of course, excepting the jobs of either the head of staff or the king's personal manservant, Merlin's job pretty much put the warlock at the top of the pecking order. Edward hadn't yet forgiven the fact that that had been him a month ago.

"Look, I'll make it up to you," Merlin said.

"How?" Edward demanded, giving the target one last push.

"Any chore, any time," Merlin promised. "I swear. Just come and tell me and I'll stop whatever I'm doing to complete it."

Edward looked the warlock in the eye. "Very well. Deal," he said. "I'm going to hold you to your word." Then he stalked away.

"Merlin!"

Time to face Prince Charming himself, Merlin thought, and spun towards the direction of Arthur's voice. The prince was taking wide steps in Merlin's direction, carrying an unstrung longbow. Either he was trading weapons or the last string had broken, Merlin decided.

"Merlin, you are so dead right now!"

Merlin sighed, realizing that he would probably have to wait until tomorrow to visit the druids.

"I was doing an errand for Gaius!" he complained, folding his arms. "And that was after I finished scrubbing the floors of both your room and three guest bedrooms, cleaned your armor – which I see you've already managed to ruin – polished half of the castle's silver, and I'm not even going to mention your stinking laundry...!"

"Not today, Merlin," Arthur snapped wearily, now only ten feet away from his obnoxious (and rather lazy) manservant.

To his surprise, Merlin fell silent.

After a moment Merlin opened his mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Arthur ground his teeth. He didn't understand how Merlin could read him so easily. Merlin on the other hand, was a book written in a foreign language. Even though Arthur had spent a better part of the month with the peasant boy, he still couldn't ever figure out what was going through Merlin's head.

"My father," he said testily, relieved that he'd finally found someone he could complain to, "wants me to be part of the negotiations."

Merlin had already known this. In fact, he'd already had this conversation with Arthur before, albeit under a slightly different setting.

"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked, leading Arthur away from the targets, where archers in the distance were becoming impatient to shoot at.

"Yes," Arthur growled. "It means my father trusts me."

"But..." Merlin prompted.

Arthur gave his manservant an annoyed look. "But nothing. Go grab my arrows!"

Merlin sighed; the prince was avoiding Merlin's inquires, just like last time. He lumbered over and grabbed the set of arrows that were made for Arthur's longbow. Next to the prince, other knights were already firing their bows, watching anxiously as they hit the target.

"Are you going to head the archery tournament?" Merlin asked.

Mercia was famous for its superb archers. Arthur had suggested to Uther that it might be diplomatic to hold an archery tournament in King Bayard's honor, which was partly the reason Uther had decided to allow his son join in on the discussions over the peace treaty.

"I'm competing, Merlin. It would be a little difficult for me to head the tournament as well," Arthur mocked, grunting as he bent the bow far enough to loop the string over the second tip. Slowly he released the bow, feeling the string go taut.

In Merlin's time line, the tournament was never held, as the incident with Nimueh and the poison had halted all feeling of goodwill. Merlin hoped he would be able to fix the situation before it occurred this time.

"Sire, about the negotiations," Merlin said, watching Arthur as he drew back the arrow. "I think you'll do fine. You're almost as good at politics as I am," he joked.

Arthur choked as he released the arrow, causing it to veer off course and miss the target by several feet.

Several of the knights looked over to see what was wrong. Arthur hadn't missed a target since he was a young teenager.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed.

Merlin grimaced. He couldn't be sarcastic in front of all of Camelot's knights, no matter how much he wanted to be. "Sire?" he asked instead, trying to sound innocent.

"Please just be quiet for, I don't know, twenty minutes," Arthur said, a false smile on his face. "Can you manage that?"

Merlin shrugged.

"I didn't think so either," Arthur said, grabbing another arrow.

Merlin stepped quietly back. Just as Arthur was about to release the second arrow, he whispered loudly, "If you bring me, I'll whisper the answers in your ear."

That arrow went so off course that it hit a target three rows down, but that was probably because Arthur had turned to strangle Merlin, who had already begun to run, the quiver of arrows abandoned on the ground.