Chapter 4

Celebration

"Merlin, I've had three glasses of water already," Arthur said irritably, taking the goblet from his servant.

Merlin shrugged. "Gaius says you've got to keep hydrated," he answered. He turned and went back to the table, where Arthur's shirt lay flat. Merlin ran the iron over the hem once more. He piled the king's chain mail and cloak in his arms and turned back towards the bed.

Arthur sighed. He took a sip and held the cup back out to Merlin. "There, I've had some. Now get rid of this and get me dressed. The king can't be late to his own banquet."

Resisting the urge to rolls his eyes, Merlin shifted the clothing to his left arm and took the goblet in his right. Unable to see the floor, he stumbled into a chair, dropping everything he was holding and spilling water all over the king's freshly-ironed shirt.

"You complete idiot, Merlin! How am I supposed to go to supper in a soaked shirt?"

Merlin glanced at Arthur before holding out his hand and muttering an incantation. The water disappeared. Merlin picked up the shirt and handed it to Arthur, who just stared at him.

"That's cheating," he said finally.

His servant shrugged. "It's dry, isn't it?"

Arthur glared at him. "Get me dressed, Merlin, I'm going to be late."

Merlin obeyed, rolling his eyes at Arthur's ingratitude. The clotpole was never satisfied. Soon enough, Arthur was dressed for the banquet and prepared to go down to the hall. He looked at Merlin.

"I'm not going to announce the legalization of magic tonight," he said. "There will be time enough for that tomorrow. I have told just Leon and Percival, although I didn't say anything about you. But tonight is to celebrate victory, and to mourn those we have lost."

Merlin looked down. He and Arthur had not talked about Gwaine. He knew the king preferred to mourn in private, and he trusted Gwen to look after her husband. And Merlin was used to mourning alone. At least in this he felt a level of solidarity among Gaius and the other knights.

Arthur clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "He was a good man," he said quietly. Merlin nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "Come on," Arthur continued. "There's a hall full of people downstairs, and their goblets aren't going to fill themselves."

The chatter from the banquet hall could be heard two corridors away. Knights and their families mingled with members of the court, all glad to be seeing each other again in a time of peace, but there was a melancholy air about the room. Merlin looked across the hall somberly, thinking of all the red, billowing capes that were no longer mixed through the crowd.

Arthur went to his seat, where Guinevere was already waiting. She smiled up at her husband. The king tapped his spoon against his goblet, and the room fell silent.

"Today is a day of celebration," Arthur said. "A long-standing enemy to our kingdom has been defeated. The Lady Morgana is dead. She will never threaten our walls again. Camelot stands today stronger than it has ever been, because of the nobility of our army and the courage of our people." He paused for a moment, looking at the faces staring back at him. "Today is also a day of mourning. We lost many good men at Camlann. They were husbands, fathers, sons, and dear friends. They sacrificed their lives so that we might live in a peaceful land once more. We owe our lives and our safety to these men. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. As Camelot grows and thrives, it will be because of these soldiers, and it will be in their honor." He raised his goblet. "To Camelot," he said. "And to all who defend her."

"To Camelot, and to all who defend her," the court echoed.

Slowly, the chatter started up again. Arthur sat back in his throne, and Gwen placed a hand on his arm.

"Well done," she said quietly.

Merlin was kept running all evening. He welcomed the work; it felt good to be back to normal. He tried not to think about how many times Gwaine would already have called him over to refill his goblet.

After a few hours, the hall was beginning to quiet as more and more of the guests returned to their rooms, some more drunk than others. Leon clapped a hand on Percival's shoulder.

"I think it's time for us to retire as well," he said. "Will you be needing anything before we go, sire?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. Go and get well rested for training tomorrow."

The two knights rose and left the hall. Merlin followed them with his eyes. He glanced back at Arthur, who nodded once. The servant set his pitcher of wine on the table and hurried after his friends. He caught up to them around the corner, in a thankfully empty corridor.

"Leon, Percival." The knights turned as Merlin skidded to a halt. "I've, um, I've got something I want to talk to you about."

Both knights turned to fully face their friend. Merlin took a deep breath.

"There's something I haven't been entirely honest with you about," he said. "In fact, I haven't been honest at all." Leon raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. "The sorcerer. You know, the one from the battle? It was me. I have magic."

Leon and Percival just stared at him for a moment. Both looked as if they were trying to decide if Merlin was joking. The servant held his breath.

Finally, Leon nodded. "Well, I'm glad you finally told us."

"That's it?" Merlin stared up at his friends in disbelief. "You're not upset I lied to you? That I betrayed Camelot? That I'm a sorcerer? You don't hate me?"

Percival clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're like a little brother, Merlin," he said. "We could never hate you."

"Besides," Leon added, "I can't think of anyone further from a traitor to Camelot than you. And it explains why Arthur's so eager to lift the ban."

Merlin grinned, unable to contain his relief. "Speaking of Arthur, he's probably getting ready to take my head off if I don't get back there soon."

As if on cue, Arthur's disembodied voice came bellowing down the corridor. "Merlin!"

His servant grimaced. "That's my cue." With one last smile at his friends, he trotted back toward the banquet hall.