Ayyy, only two days late with this. Next update should be out next monday (or maybe even next sunday), if I am really good.


Arthur, despite now having the means to get the truth from Merlin, did not use the truth serum. When he had used it on their prisoner, he had given him a choice, let him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. Merlin wouldn't have that choice, because Arthur knew that he either wouldn't take the potion or just decide to not speak at all. For Merlin, this would only work should Arthur choose to give it to his servant without his knowledge. Merlin was not to know that he was bound to speak the truth. Because Merlin did not just lie, did not just hide, Merlin was skilled in warping the truth, sprinkling in the faintest of lies to create the story which best suited him. Arthur would use the serum to weed out those lies. However, when it came down to it, he would prefer to not use the potion at all.

It was no coincidence that so few people knew of this potential plan. It was no coincidence that Arthur had never once considering seeking Guinevere's advice. Because he knew this wasn't the right way to go about it. Therefore, Arthur gave himself a time limit. Until his uncle was to return from his trip, Arthur would not use the potion. He would try to get the truth - or at least some of it - before then. The most pressing matter was why Merlin thought his uncle was working for Morgana, so that was what Arthur set as his goal. Even if Merlin had not told him everything by the time his uncle returned, if, at the very least, he had shared his suspicions with Arthur, he would not use the potion. He would trust that in due time, Merlin would come to him.

The morning after the prisoner had been set free (or escaped as everyone no doubt believed), Merlin woke him up bright and early, the usual smile absent from his face.

"What's wrong?" Arthur mumbled, groggy from sleep and wanting to stay in bed. He turned away from the window, blocking out the sun, and was silently grateful that Merlin had yet to steal his covers in an attempt to get him out of bed.

"The prisoner escaped," Merlin said, sounding unusually frustrated, "Stole a horse too, and since he turned out to be a sorcerer, he must have covered his tracks, because no one could find any sign of him. It was like he just vanished into thin air, and- why on earth are you smiling?"

Merlin gestured wildly to Arthur who had found the energy to at least sit up in his bed, resting against the bed frame. Arthur should probably stop smiling before Merlin figured it out by himself.

"Let's do something fun," he suggested, distracting Merlin, while he got a little more comfortable rearranging his pillows, "I'll tell you a secret, and you tell me one."

"What?" Merlin gaped in disbelief, "Arthur, I get that you are very invested in my life right now, but maybe this isn't the right time? There is an assassin, who wants you dead, somewhere out there. Please focus on that first."

"Oh, come on, Merlin," Arthur groaned and rolled his head, "It will be fun."

Merlin shook his head, "You have a weird sense of fun." Despite the reluctant tone, Merlin still sat down by the edge of Arthur's bed, going along with his prince's weird shenanigans.

"I'll start," Arthur said, as if that wasn't obvious given Merlin's reluctance to both play the game and even share anything about himself lately, "I let the prisoner go."

Merlin blinked. And then he blinked again. There was good chance that Merlin was making sure he wasn't dreaming: "You what?" He yelled, before realizing he should keep his voice down and then just let out a frustrated groan, letting Arthur know how much of a clotpole he thought he was.

"I let him go," Arthur repeated, just to hammer the fact into his servant, "Gave him a horse, provisions and money too. Made sure no one found out until it was too late."

"Are you mad?" Merlin hissed, trying not to yell, "He tried to kill you."

"He didn't actually try to kill me," Arthur noted, quietly, almost hoping Merlin wouldn't question that bit, but Merlin raised an eyebrow, so Arthur had to keep going, "Apparently, I was just a complication to get to the real target." There was no need to tell Merlin about who the real target had been.

"So he was going to kill you?" Merlin remarked sarcastically.

"No, he was just going to knock me out."

"How could you believe that? He refused to tell you anything for days, and the day before his execution he suddenly opens up with a story that makes you think that he was, in fact, not so bad after all? How could you just let him go? How could you trust him? How-"

"I trust someone who lies to me all the time," Arthur cut in, and looked intently at Merlin to see his reaction. He looked guilty, as he should. Perhaps, guilting him into talking would work.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly. And though Arthur should probably say some comforting words about how, for now, that was okay, he didn't. He was going to take this opportunity to make Merlin talk.

"You owe me a secret now," Arthur said, "Anything you want to share?"

"My favorite food is blueberries," Merlin said with a weak smile, and Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically.

"You know that's not going to cut it. Give me a real one."

Merlin fiddled for a bit, but eventually came out with a blank, "I don't know what to say. Why don't you ask me a question. I promise to tell you the truth."

It was a good offer, except, this time, Merlin didn't know what Arthur would ask. When Arthur had asked about the burn on his chest, Merlin had likely rehearsed what to say, known what they would discuss and been prepared for the emotions that would resurface. This time, Merlin looked less confident, less comfortable. He didn't know what Arthur would ask.

And Arthur knew he should ask about his uncle, he really did. But ultimately, what he needed from Merlin, was continued honesty. He wanted them to get to a point where Merlin could always share whatever was bothering him with Arthur, so Arthur wouldn't ask about his uncle. That, he wanted Merlin to tell him himself. So he asked what was possibly the worst question Merlin could have anticipated.

"I was told," Arthur began slowly, knowing that it wasn't quite fair to Merlin to bring this topic up, but with the power of one truth on his side, he wanted something he knew Merlin would never share of his own free will, no matter the circumstances, "that you tried to poison Morgana. Is it true?"

Merlin froze at the question, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him tightly. He looked away, trying to find the words to say.

"Can you ask another question, please?" He pleaded quietly, his voice sounded like he was close to breaking. It really hadn't been fair. But Arthur wasn't going to let it go.

"Merlin," he said, trying his best to speak with a calm voice, "Please tell me. I know you are a good person. You can trust me."

Merlin smiled. A bitter, bitter smile: "You won't think I'm so good, when you know."

"I think that's for me to decide."

Merlin looked at him again, a small light of hope present in his blue eyes, as he began his story.

When Merlin had talked about Nimueh and the cup of life, he had been more detached, only saddened by the idea of Arthur dying. As he told the story of Morgana, a story Arthur had never known before, he was emotional, close to tears, and full of hurt and regret.

"It wasn't long after I had come to Camelot that Gaius shared with me Morgana's abilities as a seer. That the things she dreamt, often came to pass. However, in fear of what Uther would do, we tried to hide it, tried to assure her that her dreams were nothing more than that. Just dreams. It worked, but only for a while.

"Eventually, her powers grew, her magic got stronger. And I knew that it would be dangerous for her to stay at the heart of Camelot, unable to control her powers. And Morgana was a good person, we all knew she was. I wanted to help her."

Merlin took a deep breath, and Arthur prepared himself for the first big revelation.

"I wanted to help her, so I suggested that she go to the druids. They could help her, teach her, and let her feel like she wasn't so alone with a power she never wanted. I thought it was a good idea, but..." Merlin bit his lip, his gaze fixed on the floor beneath him. Arthur knew what happened next and bid Merlin to just move on.

"I had promised her that I would never tell anyone about her magic. It was the least I could do for her, so when the sleeping curse fell on Camelot and she was the only one unaffected..."

"It must have been because of her magic," Arthur slowly realized, their interactions at the time suddenly making more sense.

"That's what I thought too, except, it wasn't the case. When," Merlin took another steadying breath, "When you sent me to find the potion she had taken, I tried to find a way to stop the curse instead, and I learned the true reason she wasn't affected. For a spell that powerful to work, it needs a source, and, to break it, you destroy the source."

"And Morgana was the source," Arthur guessed, and Merlin nodded slowly, seemingly gathering courage to keep going, but Arthur stopped him: "You don't have to continue."

Merlin let out a breath, "I told you," he said slowly, looking up at Arthur, "I'm not as good as you think."

"And I told you that that's for me to decide," Arthur reminded him, "You did the right thing. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

Merlin didn't say anything, merely looked down as if in thought. Arthur needed for Merlin to stop that. He had a feeling that Merlin had spent far too long inside his own head, blaming himself for something he shouldn't.

"Do you think you would ever have told me?" Arthur asked to distract Merlin, "If I hadn't made you."

"Probably not," Merlin said and let out a nervous laugh, "It's not exactly something I'm proud of."

"Then what are you proud of?" Arthur tried cheekily, a small smile appearing on Merlin's face as he looked back at Arthur.

"Don't try to make me tell you more. That should be plenty for now."

"Perhaps," Arthur said, "But you can't hide your secrets forever. One way or another, I will find out, and wouldn't you prefer for it to happen on your terms?"

"Yes," Merlin said slowly, "But not yet. For now, just for now, I'd like to keep my secrets. Don't think I haven't noticed, Arthur."

"Noticed what?" Arthur asked, playing dumb, not knowing exactly what Merlin was referring to, as Arthur had been doing a lot of things without his servant lately. Perhaps there was some irony in that, but Arthur chose not to think about it.

"You are keeping an eye on me," Merlin said. It was as if he was silently asking - ordering - Arthur to stop, "Are you afraid that I will run off?"

"No," Arthur said honestly. He knew Merlin would never leave, "I'm worried that you will get hurt."

"Even if I get hurt," Merlin said wisely, "I will always return." Merlin smiled a little to himself, before continuing, "I'm proud to be your servant... if that counts." Merlin looked at him with a teasing glint in his eyes, and Arthur dropped the whole topic.

"It counts."

Merlin left soon after that, taking the half-filled laundry basket with him as an excuse to leave the room, clearly not wanting Arthur to ask any further questions.

It was weird, Arthur thought for not the first time since Merlin's carefully constructed tower of lies had begun to unravel. It was weird that he wasn't more upset with Merlin over the fact that he was keeping secrets. Secrets so big, they changed how Arthur viewed people and situations, not just how he viewed Merlin. In fact, it only served to confirm things he already knew about him. That he was kind and loyal, and strong than anyone ever gave him credit for. So Arthur wasn't upset. How could he be? Merlin had explained why he thought it was necessary for him to keep these secrets, and Arthur understood that it was all partially his fault. His fault for not letting Merlin know that he was a safe person to come to. Yet Merlin trusted him enough to tell him that, yes, there were secrets, and perhaps some day he would share them, but for some reason, now was not the time. And if it wasn't for all the injuries, if it wasn't for Merlin's accusations against his uncle, perhaps Arthur could have been patient. But that was not the case.

Arthur also continued to wonder what to do about his servant as long as there were secrets between them. Merlin was clearly not happy with how Arthur was keeping watching over him, constantly having him within an arm's reach. And Arthur knew that this little game couldn't last long. Somehow, in some way, Merlin's stupid, self-sacrificial and vigilant tendencies would take over and he'd get hurt without Arthur being any the wiser. And he wouldn't tell, not until Arthur knew the full truth, so he had to know.

Merlin was ready to lay his life on the line for Arthur, told him time and time again that he would readily die for him, should the need arise. Arthur knew that if there was one thing he could trust, it was Merlin, and he knew that Merlin would trust Arthur with his life. Yet, Arthur could trust Merlin, not only with his life, but with his secrets, dreams and ambitions, while Merlin would never trust Arthur with even one of those. And for Arthur, this fact didn't upset him, never could. No, Arthur was an ambitious man, he would earn Merlin's full trust. And he had roughly two weeks to do so. With years of friendship to build on, it shouldn't be hard.

"Do you trust me?" Arthur asked Merlin that night as he served him dinner. The question was asked casually, letting Merlin know that this wasn't all leading up to Arthur demanding for more secrets to be revealed. And Arthur didn't ask because he doubted Merlin, no, he simply wanted to hear Merlin say it.

"Of course," Merlin answered, like Arthur had been wrong to doubt that fact. It was an honest reaction, "I trust you with my life."

"Then why won't you tell me your secrets?" Arthur tried to poke at the subject a little, "It would be easier for both of us."

"It's not a matter of trust," Merlin tried to assure him, casually filling Arthur's cup with more water.

"What then?"

"I… I don't want to put you in that position," Merlin said cryptically, "And I know you. I don't think you would react well. Not to all of my secrets."

"You won't know until you try," Arthur pointed out. He was pretty sure nothing Merlin could tell him would ever make Arthur hate him. Sure, there was a good chance he'd be mad at him for some time (they both knew that Merlin was hiding something big), but that happened so frequently anyway that it should hardly matter.

"I'm not willing to take that risk," Merlin said and shook his head, "You're too precious."

"And what do you think I'm going to do?" Arthur smiled, still trying to keep the conversation light, while also letting Merlin know that his intentions were only the best, "Kill you?"

"No," Merlin smiled, "That's not like you. But you could send me away."

"I wouldn't do that," Arthur assured him, remembering a conversation between Merlin and Lancelot.

"Because you don't know," Merlin pointed out, "Things would be different if you knew."

Obviously, Arthur thought, wasn't that the point?

"Why do you fear banishment so much?" Arthur asked, slightly changing the subject. For someone who had Camelot's best interest at heart, Merlin seemed to ponder banishment an awful lot.

"Camelot is my home. I don't want to leave."

"Ealdor lies outside of Camelot," Arthur pointed out, and Merlin smiled a little. It was a smile that Arthur recognized, because that was how his servant smiled when he was about to praise Arthur. Something which he didn't like to do because 'his head was already big enough as it was'.

"I don't want to leave because living here, being your servant, is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I refuse to let that go."

"Yet you would still die for me?"

"Gladly."

They changed topic after that. They talked about yesterday's council meeting, and Merlin was beaming when Arthur told him about how useful his research had been. Despite having no more chores for Merlin to do, Arthur still told him that his reward was giving him the rest of the evening off. Merlin could only roll his eyes at that, while Arthur laughed.

The next day, Arthur had a sort of epiphany, like he finally understood how to go about this whole Merlin situation. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps if Arthur knew more about Merlin, they would get closer and Merlin would tell him his secrets.

Of course, Arthur needed to remind himself, it wasn't that he didn't know Merlin, he most certainly did. He knew that a happy Merlin was incapable of silence, either humming or talking nonstop nonsense, whenever something put him in a good mood (which could be anything from butterflies to surviving yet another bandit attack). He knew that a sad Merlin avoided eye contact, not because he was ashamed of his emotions, but because he didn't want to burden the people around him. He knew that Merlin would put lilies in Arthur's almost-never-used vase, whenever the prince was in a bad mood, because once, not many months into Merlin's first year in Camelot, Arthur had mentioned that lilies were his mother's favorite flowers. He knew that Merlin was more skilled than anyone - even Merlin himself - gave him credit for. He knew that before coming to Camelot, Merlin's favorite color had been blue, but now it was red. He knew that Merlin loved to tease and insult him, but would glare daggers at anyone who tried to do the same (knights of the roundtable notwithstanding). Arthur knew Merlin well, but he didn't know much about him, especially before his time in Camelot. So that would be where he would start.

"What is Ealdor like?" Arthur asked that day at dinner. Merlin was eating with him again, and the atmosphere was easy.

"You've been there," Merlin pointed out, and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but I don't imagine that you are always preparing to fight raiders. If you were, you hardly needed my help."

"Good point," Merlin gave in and looked up in thought, "It's quiet," he said wistfully, "Not much happens, and the things that do happen are usually bad."

"Like raiders?"

"Like raiders."

"Sounds a little boring," Arthur said like it was Merlin's fault, but his servant just huffed.

"You can't even imagine."

"Is that why you left?" Arthur said, suddenly remembering that they'd had this conversation before. Lying awake in Ealdor, figuring out how to ensure most people's lives, learning more about each other, and wishing social status would never harm their friendship. Back when Merlin had said he wanted to find a place to fit in, but didn't yet know if he had succeeded. Perhaps, that was what Arthur needed to do, let Metlin know he fit in right here, by Arthur's side.

"A little," Merlin said, answering the question, "But mostly I just didn't fit in anymore." Arthur wasn't sure if Merlin was remembering their conversation from all those years back, but the honesty was still there. The honesty which Arthur had never valued before. The honesty he now valued above everything else.

"How come?" Arthur asked this time, not wanting their conversation to go in circles, "You have no problem making friends here. Every loves you," listening to how tacky and cheesy that sounded, Arthur added: "Although maybe that's because idiots are likable."

"Would explain why they like you so much," Merlin chuckled, "But I guess Ealdor is just different. There weren't many kids my age, I was quirky, clumsy, and, of course, I was born out of wedlock. It made me an easy target."

"Amongst other things," Arthur mumbled, but the prince thought that the reason Merlin so easily stood up to him when he first arrived was because Merlin had learned how to deal with bullies the hard way. And because Merlin wouldn't let a bully get away with anything, prince or not.

"I don't know," Merlin continued, not really knowing how to explain himself, "There just wasn't much for me there, and since my mother knew Gaius, well, I had an easy way out."

"Do you miss her?"

"My mother?"

"Yes."

"Every day," Merlin confessed. Arthur wished he could understand, he couldn't imagine missing his father every day. There were times, when Arthur was away, that he let himself forget him completely. He wondered how different it would be, were his mother still here.

"You should visit her more often," Arthur said slowly, and Merlin smiled. A mischievous little smile.

"Oh, and will you give me time off to do that?"

"Don't be ridiculous Merlin. I would come too and we could make a hunting trip out of the journey."

"Of course, sire."

Arthur decided to stop there for the night. He didn't want all the conversations to turn into interrogations, and Merlin had been so open with him tonight. He didn't want to lose that feeling. If it continued, he would never have use for that dumb truth serum.

There was another topic Arthur wanted to revisit, one which they had discussed, almost only in passing or out of necessity. Magic. Between their last conversation, and their escaped prisoner's story, Arthur felt that he could once again see the topic in a new light. It had been so easy to blame magic for what had happened to Morgana, but if a good man could be forced to flee and kill just for the price of growing healthy crops, then what was stopping stubborn and prideful Morgana from tearing apart a kingdom which would see her dead simply for having the ability to dream the future. Out of The Great Purge, vengeful sorcerers were born, and that burden should fall, not to magic, but to the Pendragons.

When Merlin had left for the night, Arthur slipped out of bed and went to Geoffrey.

"My lord," Geoffrey exclaimed as Arthur entered the library, unsurprisingly finding the scholar still working well into the night, "What can I do for you?"

"What materials do you have surrounding The Great Purge?" Arthur asked, cutting to the chase.

"I'm afraid I don't have much, sire. The king burned all the records."

"All of them?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, doing his best Gaius impersonation.

"Well… most of them."

"Give me what you have. And don't tell the king about this," Arthur didn't need his father to know what he was up to.

"Of course, sire."

It took Geoffrey a good ten minutes to find something Arthur could use, and Arthur thanked him for his assistance as he listed back to his room for some late night reading.

The records Arthur had gotten were scattered, incoherent and difficult to decipher. One record showed a list of names, most of them with a location and even more had their names crossed out. Arthur took a moment to recognize it as a list of targets.

The first name he recognized was Balinor - his name was the first which had not been crossed out. His location was marked as court, which Arthur found strange, but decided not to dwell on. Further down on the list was another which Arthur recognized: Nimueh. Her name, too, was uncrossed and her location was marked as court. Arthur almost took a pen and crossed out their names, but decided against it. This was no longer a list of who was dead or alive, it was a list of people who had been killed in an act of injustice, regardless of what they may have used their powers for.

Another list of names contained potential targets, or characters of suspicion. On this list, Arthur found many he recognized. Not necessarily people he knew personally, but nobles whose names were familiar, whose sons or daughters he knew. None of these names were crossed out, but their location had been updated frequently. The first name on the list which shocked Arthur was Gaius. He knew their physician had once practiced magic, but the prince found it hard to believe that his father, the king, would employ a person so close to him, who was also worthy of making the list.

The next name made Arthur put the scroll away and move on, because he did not want to think about what could have aspired for her name to be on the list. Hunith. Location: Ealdor. Arthur would at least make sure that Merlin never saw the list in his life.

The scattered accounts of The Purge kept Arthur up almost all night. Reports of successful capturings, a resumé of the day magic had been banned, its practice punishable by death. And Arthur couldn't help but notice, and somehow feel guilty, for the fact that this had all happened immediately after his birth. It couldn't be a coincidence. It wasn't that Arthur was only just making the connection. Even if he had been in complete denial, Morgause had told him that his birth was the direct reason for his father's endless war on magic. To this day, Arthur would never know if there had been any truth to what Morgause had told and showed him. But often, he would dream of it, dream of his mother, and the words she had said. On good days he would cling to her voice, saying that she was proud of him. On bad days, he would hear the echo of how he was born of magic, how his father had sacrificed her life to have an heir. And though Arthur never once spoke of this, on those bad days, his vase would be filled with lilies.

From what Arthur could gather from the worn remnants, magic had been accepted and openly practiced in Camelot before the purge. It supported what the escaped prisoner had told him - that Camelot had once been a safe place for sorcerers. It was hard for him to wrap his head around, a Camelot where Uther was king and magic was practiced freely. It seemed like something from a fantasy, but it was the only conclusion Arthur could come to from this tiny bit of information. It would explain why known magic users, a powerful sorcerer and a dragonlord, would have had places in the court.

Arthur kept thinking about it as he returned the material to the library, not finding Geoffrey there, but placing it where he could find it. As he walked back to his chambers, bis body exhausted, but his mind fully awake, he thought that perhaps, he should simply go to someone who knew. Afterall, Gaius lived right here in the castle. But that was for tomorrow. Now, he needed sleep.

Arthur was not happy about being woken the next morning. He could feel the few hours of sleep he had had, and as soon as Merlin let the sun through, he crawled under the covers, and held them tight so Merlin couldn't take them. Even if he was tired, Arthur was still the stronger of the two.

"Arthur, you have to get up."

"No," Arthur replied and tightly shut his eyes, hoping it would somehow let him fall asleep again. Merlin did not let that happen.

When Merlin's attempts at taking the covers from him were being stopped, he settled for grabbing Arthur's ankles and pulled him to the floor. However, Arthur was stubborn and merely wrapped himself tighter into the covers, refusing to get up. He heard Merlin sigh heavily and dramatically.

"Come on, Arthur! You have things to do."

"Do them for me," Arthur demanded, making himself comfortable on the floor.

"Even if I wanted to, I don't think your father would be particularly happy about seeing me in your place."

Arthur groaned. Merlin had a point. He hated when Merlin was in the right. It would seem that Arthur didn't have a choice as he let Merlin wake him up, get him dressed and ate a quick breakfast before heading off to the great hall where Arthur was supposed to join his father for all the public affairs that were to happen today.

The whole affair was rather boring - although Arthur was sure to let everyone know that his yawns were a result of little sleep and not boredom.

Late into the afternoon, a woman came to them, reporting a sighting of witchcraft. A bubble of smoke, she had said, smoke so red it might as well have been blood, covering almost an entire forest. It had lasted half a night, only illuminated by the light of the moon.

"Where was this sighting?" The king asked the woman before them.

"In the east, sire, half a day's ride from the border."

"We shall send a patrol out at first light to investigate," Uther declared, but Arthur cut in.

"My lord," Arthur said, letting his father know he meant business, "The place of the sighting was close to Lord Agravaine's current location. If such a display of magic was truly there, surely they would have noticed. Do not forget that Agravaine has some of Camelot's finest knights with him should anything occur."

There was a moment of silence, before the king made a decision: "Very well," he gave in, "If anything happened, we should trust that they would send for reinforcements if needed."

It wasn't long after that the court was dismissed and Arthur could finally return to his chambers. He wondered if it was too late for him to lie down and sleep for an hour or two before continuing with his day, but the sun was already low in the sky, and Arthur decided to merely push through and just called it an early night as soon as he could.

"You're very tired today," Merlin commented, and Arthur couldn't even find the energy to come up with something snarky or even roll his eyes.

"Yes, very," he simply said and had to resist just putting his head on the table and fall asleep there.

"And here I thought I sent you to bed early enough," Merlin sighed, "You really are a child, aren't you?"

"Shut up Merlin."

"Oh look, he's back," Merlin exclaimed falsely as he set down Arthur's plate, "Are you awake enough to eat or would you like me to feed you?"

"I hate you."

"Of course, sire."

"Eat with me."

Merlin chuckled as he set the table for himself. There was wine instead of water tonight. Merlin did that sometime. A random act of kindness, he called it. Arthur liked that about him. And so, it probably wasn't the best time to begin a conversation about magic, but Arthur was too sleepy to comprehend that fact. The wine wasn't helping particularly either.

"You knew of Will's magic when you left Ealdor, right?"

"Yes," Merlin confessed rather easily. It was probably the wine. Merlin couldn't hold his liquor at all, "We bonded over being outsiders."

"But magic is legal in Cenred's kingdom, is it not? Being a sorcerer wouldn't be as hard there as here."

Merlin made a face at that. A face which Arthur couldn't quite pinpoint, but put it down to Merlin recalling a bad memory: "Ealdor is not too far from Camelot," Merlin began, his face still morphed into something quite un-Merlin like, "Tales of evil and dark magic were not less common in Ealdor than it is here. Although, for us, it was merely a horror story, meant to discourage us from ever seeking magic."

"Why?" Arthur questioned curiously. If one had the mindset that magic didn't actually corrupt, then why not use it? It sounded like it could be quite useful for things like growing crops or summoning wind to fight off evil raiders.

"Why?" Merlin asked rather surprised, probably quite taken aback by Arthur's sudden interest in magic. Arthur was honestly a little surprised himself. Was talking about it in a semi-ambiguous light considered treason? Perhaps, but Arthur was too tired to care.

Merlin sighed, took a gulp of the wine, as he began a story which Arthur wasn't entirely sure he had asked for, but appreciated nonetheless: "Cenred didn't just permit magic," Merlin began darkly, "He craved it, took it for himself. Anyone who showed signs of possessing magic were taken, made slaves in his army and sacrificed in his pointless wars. When I was young, perhaps seven or eight, a boy about ten years older than me came to our village. He was just passing through, trying to flee to Mercia, where he wasn't known or hunted. Cenred's knights caught up to him before he even passed through Ealdor. They chained him up, put him in a cage and took him to their king." Merlin shuddered at the memory. Arthur felt horrified by the tale and the idea that a young Merlin had been witness to it.

"Later, the mother visited Ealdor, trying to escape the town that reminded her of her son. She told my mother the crime he had committed," Merlin spat out the word crime like it was poison and Arthur braced himself, "He had tried to cheer his bedridden sister up by making a flower." Merlin took another sip of the wine, "We were taught to never touch magic if we valued our freedom."

"Then why did Will learn magic?" Arthur questioned. Surely, Will would have been subjected to those stories too.

"He didn't," Merlin sighed, "At least, he didn't choose to. His powers just came to him, so he had no choice but to learn how to control them, if he didn't want to get caught."

"That's the same with Morgana, isn't it?" Arthur said, being more and more certain that Morgana had never had a choice when it came to magic, "She never choose her powers. They just appeared. Is it normal?" Arthur wondered how many had been put to death for something they never choose. It was heartbreaking.

"I'm not an expert, Arthur, but I don't think it's uncommon. I mean, what are the chances that both magic users I've met have been born that way?"

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Why all this talk of magic?" Merlin questioned after a while, still nursing his wine, like he didn't want to drink, but somehow needed it to keep this conversation going.

"I'm not sure," Arthur confessed. He honestly didn't know what all this would lead towards. He hadn't expected that his quest to get to know Merlin better had ended in educating himself about magic, but maybe that was just another way to get closer to Merlin. His servant might not be a sorcerer himself, but he had known people with magic, been sympathetic towards them and used it to save Arthur's life. And it gave them something to talk about, something Arthur wouldn't trust anyone else to be a part of, "I think, regardless of magic's true nature, my father cannot be right. I've seen too much that proves him wrong."

"You seem very sure about that," Merlin pointed out. His voice was oddly soft, none of its usual sharpness coloring it.

"Don't believe me?" Arthur tried to tease, but the taunt came out weak, and Merlin only smiled at him.

"I'm just curious."

"I've been thinking about Morgana, all the things you've said, things I've seen and experienced. I doesn't add up. Morgana, I think it's our fault she did what she did. I can't even imagine what it must have been like, to suddenly possess a power you didn't ask for and know that if the king ever found out, he would have her executed. To look at the pyres and know that one day, that could be you, and you never even did anything wrong. Wouldn't we be the ones to blame for that?"

"I don't think you should blame yourself for everything she did. There shouldn't be an excuse when it comes to murdering innocent people," Merlin said, instantly wanting to reassure Arthur. He always did that. Made sure Arthur never blamed himself for anything (unless he was really angry with him), and Arthur always appreciated it, even if thoroughly disagreed with Merlin. Sometimes Arthur had to make wrong right, and though he couldn't save Morgana, perhaps he could save others.

"I don't mean that she didn't do anything wrong," Arthur explained, "Just, I don't think magic itself isn't the cause of her evil, just her fear." Arthur was silent for a moment before he continued, "What would you do if you had magic in Camelot?"

"What I always do," Merlin smiled, his eyes shining with honesty and sincerity, "Serve you. Protect you. Save your royal ass while getting no credit."

Arthur couldn't help but smile too: "Of course you would."

This continued on for roughly a week. Arthur would invite Merlin to eat with him and they'd just talk. After they had talked about magic, they had talked about Gwen, and then about the knights, and it seemed that Merlin slowly let down his guard around Arthur. A guard that had never seemed visible before, but was slowly falling apart. And it felt nice. To talk like friends. To pretend every evening that they weren't prince and servant. Merely friends.

But time was running out, and with only a few days left until Agravaine's return, Arthur had to get to Merlin to talk. If not about everything, then just about his uncle. He had a good grasp of their relationship, and why Merlin didn't like him (accusing Agravaine of working for Morgana gave a pretty clear picture), but without anything resembling proof, Arthur couldn't act.

"You don't have to lie to me," Arthur said that evening, and Merlin froze for a second before looking up at Arthur to figure out where their conversation was headed, "You don't have to lie, but I can understand if you don't want to share everything. Just... You don't have to lie."

"I know," Merlin said quietly, "I know, it's just… easier sometimes."

"I didn't take you for a liar," Arthur said, a little bitter.

"I'm sorry. I just don't want to burden you, and I think lying works better then. If I say nothing, you get curious. You don't need to worry about me."

"I think it's a little late for that. You're not a knight, Merlin."

"No, I'm too smart for that," Merlin tried to lighten the mood. It helped a little because Arthur found himself smiling at his servant's idiotic antics. He dropped the topic for now. Hopefully Merlin would think about what he had said.

Two days before Agravaine's expected arrival, Merlin brought Arthur all of his favorite foods to celebrate Arthur having won over the council, and was beginning work on drawing up the exact route the new road would take. Arthur felt bad for using the joyous occasion to make Merlin talk.

"What do you think of my uncle?" Arthur asked and Merlin almost choked on his food.

"Why do you ask?" Merlin said between coughs.

"You don't get along very well," Arthur explained, although 'not getting along' was perhaps the understatement of the century.

"I guess I'm just overprotective," Merlin shrugged, "He just arrived out of nowhere, and he was very close to you. I don't know him like you do, so his presence is sometimes hard for me to accept."

Arthur gaped at Merlin for a second. Merlin hadn't deflected or refused to answer the question. Nor had he tried to reassure Arthur by lying about his relationship with Agravaine, no, Merlin had perfectly deduced the information Arthur had and told a story that fit into what he believed Arthur knew. He had admitted to acting out of worry for his prince, but explained it by not knowing the already established relationship between uncle and nephew. He had admitted to not being comfortable around him, but said it was due to lack of knowledge. The lie had been easy and effortless. Arthur would never have known that he had lied if it hadn't been for that one conversation he had overheard. If it wasn't for that one interaction Merlin couldn't have known Arthur had been privy to. And the lie felt like it took them so many steps backwards. Arthur wasn't sure how feel. Maybe, perhaps, he felt a little betrayed.

"You're lying," Arthur said simply, and Merlin's eyes widened. He hadn't expected Arthur to see through him, "I thought we were over this."

"Arthur," Merlin said slowly, wanting to explain himself. Arthur only reluctantly let him continue, "There are some things I can't tell you."

Arthur sighed, frustrated, "Yes, Merlin, I know. You think it's better if I don't know anything." Arthur ran his finger through his hair, organizing his thoughts, "But you don't have to lie. At least just say that you don't want to talk. And even so!" Arthur continued before Merlin could say anything else, "This issue that you have with Agravaine. Don't you think I deserve to know?"

"But I don't have any proof!" Merlin snapped, and tore his gaze away from Arthur in frustration.

"Clearly you must know something!" Arthur raised his voice, their fight slowly escalating, as they both got fed up with each other, "Even if you only suspect, I have a right to know!"

"He's you family Arthur!" Merlin yelled back as he rose from his chair, partly to make a point, partly to put some more distance between the two of them.

"Which is even more reason to tell me. I was blind to Morgana's betrayal, and look where that got me."

"That wasn't your fault," Merlin hissed, looking anywhere but at Arthur.

"Who then?" Arthur said harshly, "You?"

"It doesn't matter now," Merlin said, his voice still raised, not masking his frustration at all.

"Of course it does!" Arthur said and stood up as well, taking a step closer to Merlin, "You don't want my family to betray me, but what happens if you never say anything? If he makes a move before you get your evidence?"

"And what happens if I'm wrong?" Merlin was beginning to sound desperate, "Who would you choose then? Your lying servant or your trusted uncle? We both know the answer."

"No we don't! Stop making decisions on my behalf!"

"I am not," Merlin defended and Arthur wanted to throw his chair against a wall just to give his anger an outlet.

"Yes, you are. The lies have to stop Merlin. A few secrets I can live with, but this!" Arthur gestured between the two of them, "This will hurt us both in the end."

Merlin bit his lip, possibly to keep himself from saying something he would later regret, the frustration still written painly on his face as he left Arthur's chambers without another word.

Arthur kicked the chair in anger, and it fell to the floor, the crash breaking through his now silent chambers. Arthur's eyes moved to the small cupboard where the still unused truth serum stood. Tomorrow he would use it. For both their sakes, Arthur would know the truth. He would give Merlin only one more chance to talk, hoping that he would have calmed down tomorrow morning, but if nothing changed, Arthur's hand would be forced to act.

When Merlin woke Arthur up the next morning, the air was strained and tense. Merlin was acting like a proper servant, and it felt all so wrong. They spoke nothing of the night before. They barely spoke at all. And that, more than anything, helped Arthur make up his mind.

They didn't dine together that evening, but Arthur bid Merlin stay late anyway, and poured two glasses of wine, one of them, laced with a truth serum,

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, trying to ease the tension. He didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, but they seemed to be the right words to say.

"That's new," Merlin said sarcastically, but accepted the offered wine anyway. He took a steadying breath "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled."

That's what you're sorry for? Arthur thought, but wanting to keep their conversation from taking a bad turn, he held his tongue.

"Let's forget about it," Arthur put on a smile and raised his glass. Merlin followed suit and the tension seemed to slowly disappear, and a careful smile appeared on Merlin's face.

"To friendship," Arthur declared.

"To friendship."

They drank and Arthur put down his glass, ready to finally get some answers, but as he looked at Merlin, concern spiked in his mind. Merlin was looking at him, eyes wide with disbelief, as he dropped the glass, letting it shatter on the floor, the remaining liquid spilling out by his feet.

"Merlin..." Arthur took a step forward, but Merlin backed away, his expression growing increasingly horrified.

"No," Merlin said hoarsely, rejecting Arthur, "No."

"Merlin, what..."

"You..." Merlin interrupted, his voice cracking, like he was about to cry, struggling to speak through tears threatening to spill, trying to keep his emotions in reign, "I trusted you."

It clicked for Arthur then. Merlin knew. He didn't know how he knew, but it didn't matter. Because Merlin knew.

"Merlin, I had to," Arthur tried to explain, but Merlin shook his head, his breathing growing more rapid. He widened the gap between them, not letting Arthur see his tears. "Merlin, calm down," Arthur tried again, taking a step closer, trying to close the distance between them, but Merlin wouldn't let him.

"Stay away from me," Merlin said harshly, voice still strained and Arthur stopped moving, respecting Merlin's request.

Merlin's hands moved to his chest, like he didn't know what do with himself, and he fell to his knees, "It hurts," he muttered, and then turned his gaze to Arthur again, his eyes filled with sorrow and betrayal, hurt and fear, "Is this my punishment?"

"No," Arthur pleaded, "I just wanted the truth." It wasn't meant as a punishment. Only a necessity. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Then I was right," Merlin said, the first tear spilling over and running down his cheek, "The truth was enough for you to want me dead."

"Merlin, what are you-" Arthur drew in a sharp breath as he realized that had misread the situation, and he was quickly by Merlin's side, trying to take his servant into his arms as he called for the guards, for anyone who could hear him. Merlin struggled against him, but Arthur wasn't going to let him.

"Merlin, please," he tried, not having time to explain. Right now he needed to act.

"No. Let go," Merlin said weakly, trying to push Arthur away, even though all his strength was slowly leaving him. Merlin was starting to gasp for air, small whines escaping his throat as the pain increased, the poison coursing through his body.

"I didn't mean-" Arthur tried, the words getting stuck in his throat as it slowly sank in that Merlin was currently dying in his arms. Dying and thinking that had been what Arthur wanted, "I didn't mean to hurt you," Arthur said so quietly and broken that Merlin wouldn't have heard. Tears were stinging in his eyes, as he tried once again to get a good grip at Merlin to finally get him to Gaius, hoping it wasn't all too late.

"I loved you," Merlin said through tears and betrayal, "You were my friend and I loved you."


I am so sorry about that, but I did tell you that I wouldn't just repeat what I did in 'a drop of truth'.

On a more positive note, thank you so much for all you support on the companion fic. For the few of you who had concerns: don't worry, I won't start writing until this fic is fully written, and I have a small Merlin project I'd like to work on next just give myself a little break from this particular universe. For now, I have scheduled the companion fic to begin by the end of this year or maybe at the beginning of next year depending on how much time I end up having.

For more updates on these things, I'd suggest following me on tumblr 'winglesscrows' where I post updates, sneak peaks and other fun things :)