A/N: It has been more than three years since I posted "The Worst Way", but I have not forgotten my promise to write a sequel… Here's hoping that my readers haven't forgotten either!

Requested by and thus dedicated to: SpangleyPony and Ocean Mint Leaves

Summary: Arthur may have accepted Merlin and his magic, but the repercussions of his discovery are further reaching and far more dire than either of them could have anticipated. For when an enemy learns the truth about the lowly servant boy she so despises… it becomes her weapon.

The Long Road Home

Chapter One

As the other knights joined in and laughter filled the clearing, the tension that had strained relations within the company almost to breaking point began to dispel.

Arthur didn't know of a time when he had been more overwhelmed with relief than he was in that moment. He was relieved that Merlin was not a traitor after all; relieved that his trust had not been misplaced; relieved that, of all the people in the world, magic had chosen such an inherently good and kind-hearted person to imbue with great power; relieved that his knights and future queen had been both willing and able to defend his servant while rage had been clouding his judgement… But most of all he was relieved that Merlin was alive.

Arthur knew that if he had allowed his blade to fall he would have regretted it for the rest of his life. The loss would have devastated him, even though he would never have let his grief show. But the experience would have changed him for the worse and that much the people would have seen.

Although Arthur rarely acknowledged it, Merlin's arrival in Camelot had been the catalyst that began his transformation from an arrogant, pompous prince, craving nothing but the approval of his father and caring little for anyone but himself, to the man he was today – still flawed, he knew, but a better person and a better king for the influence that his manservant had had on him. In a world without Merlin, especially if his death had been at Arthur's own hand, Arthur feared he would be grim and unfeeling, harsh and unforgiving, brutal and ruthless, and that never again would he have cause or desire to laugh.

So he laughed now, less because Gwaine's and Gwen's expressions were funny and more because Merlin was alive and safe so he could laugh, knowing that everything was alright.

The hilarity gradually faded as each of them regained their composure. Arthur noticed Merlin swiping at his eyes but decided not to call him a girl – just this once – given the gravity of what had just happened, and what had almost happened. He figured Merlin had the right to be feeling a little emotional. But one sappy, sentimental hug was Arthur's limit for the day… week… month…possibly year. So he fell back to what he was good at.

"Well, Merlin, thanks to your sleep-in we are once again behind schedule. My presence is required back in Camelot post haste, so let's everyone get a move on."

The knights nodded and went to saddle their horses, but Guinevere lifted an eyebrow and Merlin surveyed the campsite with shocked dismay.

"What…?"

It was the same expression and tone that Merlin had displayed when he came back from one of his regular disappearing acts to find Arthur's chambers in a state of missing-servant-induced chaos. Arthur frowned as he mentally re-examined Merlin's claim that his absence was because he had been 'dying' in the light of his recently acquired knowledge of Merlin's magic and supposed tendency for saving Camelot. He wondered what had actually happened, and not just that time but all the other times that Merlin had skived off from his duties with poor excuses. He was prevented from asking by Gwen's wry comment,

"They were trying to help you, Merlin, so you wouldn't have as much work to do when you woke up. I didn't have the heart to tell them they were doing it wrong."

Gwaine and Elyan blushed, and even Percival and Leon looked sheepish.

"Uh, thanks guys," Merlin said dubiously, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that Arthur recognised to mean 'There is no way I can get all this done before Arthur yells at me'. He actually felt a bit sorry for the younger man.

"Isn't there a way you could do it faster?" Arthur asked, waving his hand in the air in a vague reference to Merlin's abilities. Merlin stared at him without comprehension, and Arthur sighed. "So, you are still an idiot. At least some things will never change. What I meant was, couldn't you use-" he hesitated for just a second, but he had already made his decision "-magic?"

Merlin looked gobsmacked. The others seemed surprised, too, but their expressions soon morphed into curiosity.

"Well – yes, I mean, I guess," Merlin stammered.

"Go on, then," Arthur prompted, genuinely curious himself to see Merlin's magic in action when it wasn't blasting him across the clearing.

"Really? Are you sure you want me to? I-"

Arthur just looked at him; Merlin should know by now that he did not like having to repeat himself.

Merlin still appeared nervous and uncertain, but he obediently raised a hand so the palm was facing outward. He hesitated for a moment longer, glancing at Arthur, silently asking permission and simultaneously pleading for leniency, as though he still expected to be executed if he openly used magic. Arthur supposed that a lifetime habit of hiding would be hard to break.

"I'm waiting," he said, and his voice was impatient but his eyes were gentle, letting Merlin know that it was okay.

Merlin swallowed, nodded, and began to chant words that to Arthur were meaningless gibberish but were in fact, he knew, words of magic. It scared and intrigued him both.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold.

And the campsite came alive.

They watched in awe as un-held brushes floated into the air and gave the horses thorough brush downs, followed by saddles which fastened themselves in place. Buckets whizzed off to the nearby stream and returned filled with water to divide among the horses and douse the fire. Untidy bedrolls unfurled themselves and packed away far more neatly. Arthur's sword rose into the air to have a cloth wipe away the dirt and blood, then a whetstone sharpened it before it slid itself into Arthur's scabbard (which freaked him out until he realised that the enchanted sword was not trying to run him through). Arthur's cloak shook itself out and fastened around his shoulders. Belongings were packed into travel bags, and a multitude of other little things happened too fast for Arthur to catch.

Within a couple of minutes, they were ready to ride.

As Merlin lowered his hand and the camp settled, they all turned from the finished spectacle to stare at him. Guinevere was gaping, Gwaine was laughing, Elyan was stunned, Percival was impressed and the expression on Leon's face suggested that his respect for the servant had risen to another level. Arthur warred between all of those reactions and more, but he settled for a simple,

"Not bad," and hoped that Merlin would hear what was not said, as he usually did.

Merlin smiled faintly, but the aura of power that had filled and surrounded him as he commanded the magic had faded, leaving him looking almost smaller… and drastically pale.

"We should get going," Arthur said, wanting Merlin back in Camelot as soon as possible so he could get some rest in a proper bed. He looked exhausted.

The others moved to obey, but Merlin didn't. He swayed unsteadily on the spot.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, stepping closer.

Blue eyes flicked in his direction, but Arthur was sure that Merlin was not seeing him properly. "Ar-thur…nngh… don't think tha' was such…a good… idea…"

"What's wrong?"

"W… well… using… magic… using tha' much… magic… all… once… takes a lot… out of me… on… on a good day… showing off… Gaius… tells me I shouldn't… shouldn't show off…"

"Gaius knows?" Arthur interrupted, old habits flashing the thought through his mind that Gaius was harbouring a sorcerer and by the laws of Camelot such a crime was punishable by death.

Merlin must have heard something in his tone because panic shot lucidity through him and he blurted, "Don't hurt him! Please, sire, please don't – don't hurt – Gaius – don't hurt Gaius…" He started gasping, hyperventilating, and although it didn't seem possible his face lost even more colour.

"I won't!" Arthur promised hurriedly. "He shall receive a pardon too, okay?"

Merlin nodded. "Ar-Arthur…?"

"What?"

"I think… I'm going to…"

"To what?"

But instead of finishing the sentence, Merlin collapsed.

With reflexes borne on the battlefield, Arthur caught him before his body hit the ground and lowered him gently.

"Merlin?"

But his servant was unconscious and didn't respond.

"What's the matter with him?" Gwaine asked, coming over and frowning at Arthur as though he were responsible.

"He fainted," Arthur explained, trying (and failing) not to sound as concerned as he felt.

"He's hurt," Guinevere reminded them, and her voice was sharper than usual as she knelt down at Merlin's side and began to dab at a bleeding gash on Merlin's chest with a damp strip of fabric.

In a moment of horror Arthur remembered that he had inflicted that wound. And the one on his cheek, and on his arm. But he hadn't meant to do any serious damage; he had just been trying to make Merlin angry enough to strike out with his magic. The cuts were shallow enough that Merlin should have been fine.

But Arthur had forgotten that Merlin was already injured. By the knights' own confessions, he had suffered a brutal beating at their hands. Merlin's shirt still lay discarded, so his battered torso was still clearly visible and Arthur couldn't believe how stupid he was to have ignored the evidence of serious injury right in front of him. As though the severe bruising wasn't enough, there was reason to suspect that a couple of his ribs were broken and Arthur had just added to it by attacking Merlin with a sword.

Arthur didn't pretend to know anything about sorcery, but from what Merlin had said he could assume that wielding magic took a lot of strength and wasn't a particularly advisable activity to engage in when hurt. But Arthur had made him do it. And now Merlin had passed out. Small mercies that he was still alive.

"We have to get him back to Gaius," Arthur said. "He'll know what to do. He'll make him better." And then maybe all of them could stop feeling so damn guilty.

They made it back to Camelot in record time, Guinevere supporting Merlin's unconscious form in front of her with the rationale that she was the lightest and so her horse would not be too overburdened. In truth, it had more to do with the fact that she was the only one who hadn't harmed him and didn't fear breaking him with the slightest touch.

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed as Arthur burst into the physician's chambers with Merlin limp in his arms. Guinevere couldn't be expected to carry him, so the task had fallen to Arthur and he just had to hope that he wasn't making things worse. "My boy – what happened?"

"It's a long story," Arthur replied evasively, realising that Gaius would not take kindly to the news.

Gaius flashed a glare at him for his reticence, but concentrated on tending to his ward. "I would like to know, sire," he said in a deceptively mild tone as he worked. "The boy is in my care, after all. And I would know how best to treat him if I knew the cause of his injuries."

Arthur still didn't say anything. He thought it would be easier on the old man if he heard it from a Merlin who was whole and healthy.

"He looks to have been badly beaten," Gaius prompted. "And these lacerations… I would say that they were inflicted by an expert swordsman intent on causing him pain but ensuring he lived to suffer it."

Arthur looked away, ashamed by his actions. He should have given Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but just as Merlin had grown up keeping his magic a secret, Arthur had grown up learning that magic was evil and people who used magic could not be trusted.

"Sire?"

Gaius had a right to know.

"The beating occurred while the Lamia had the knights under her control," he explained cautiously.

The infamous eyebrow rose and Gaius shot a look at his ward. "Merlin didn't tell me they had hurt him! The broken ribs could have punctured his lung, foolish boy! He should have had treatment immediately! Why didn't he tell me at Longstead?"

"I believe he did not wish the knights to feel any guiltier than they already did. They are truly repentant, Gaius, though they are not entirely at fault."

"Indeed," Gaius agreed, but Arthur could tell that he was angry. Arthur had felt the same when he found out. Enchantment or no, he had expected better from his most trusted knights. They had been sent to protect Merlin, and instead they had brought him harm. If it was not for Arthur's own actions he would have had each of them in the stocks for hurting Merlin like that. But he bore far more guilt, because he did not even have the excuse of an enchantment.

Arthur lost his nerve. "We were on our way back when he fainted, so we hurried home with him."

Gaius pinned him with one of those looks and Arthur experienced for a moment what it must be like for Merlin to live with this man. Nothing seemed to get by him. "You said it was a long story, sire. There must be more to it than that."

"Um, well, ah…" His childhood tutors would have slapped him on the wrist for such unrefined speech, but this wasn't an easy admission. "He was sleeping, and I shook him to, you know, wake him up. Because he wasn't waking up, even when I called him. And he… he pushed me away." He sucked in a deep breath. "With magic."

Gaius's eyes flared with raw panic for a split second before he closed off his expression. "Sire, I'm sure there's a logical explanation-"

"There is. Merlin has magic. The evidence was irrefutable, and he admitted it."

Gaius couldn't disguise the fear anymore as his hand tightened around Merlin's arm and his knuckles turned white. "So you have returned him here for his execution." The 'and mine' went unsaid, but Arthur could tell that Gaius was thinking it.

"I was angry," Arthur admitted. "The cuts you see… I was the one who inflicted them, and I was going to have him beheaded on the spot-"

The old man's breath hitched.

"-but the knights intervened, and through their words and Merlin's actions I was led to see reason. Merlin has nothing to fear from me as long as he remains loyal to Camelot. And neither do you."

"You are not going to banish us?" Gaius asked, too cautious to be relieved just yet.

Arthur smiled a little. "What would I do without my manservant and my court physician? No, I'm afraid both of you will have to stay here."

"And Merlin? Will you force him to give up his magic?"

To be honest, the idea hadn't even occurred to him. He considered it for a moment and decided that it just didn't sit right with him, half-baked measure that it was. It was execution or acceptance, and he had chosen the latter. "Well the laws didn't stop Merlin before, so I don't know what I could do to stop him now. He never listens to me."

"If you demanded it of him, sire…"

"I'm not going to," Arthur assured him gently. "He said he was born with magic?"

"Yes, sire," Gaius confirmed, still with that slight beat of hesitation. "His mother tells me that he was levitating objects with his mind before he could even walk or talk. It is as natural to him as breathing or blinking is to you and I."

Arthur tried to picture a raven-haired baby making objects fly around Hunith's home and it would have been funny if he hadn't known the fear that Merlin's mother must have felt for her son. "I can't ask him to give it up then, can I?" he reasoned. "It could kill him."

Arthur meant it as a joke, but Gaius nodded sombrely. "Very possibly, sire."

Arthur didn't know how to respond to that.

Gaius returned to cleaning Merlin's wounds but after a few moments he looked up at Arthur thoughtfully.

"What you are saying, sire, is that you are going to allow Merlin to continue using his magic?"

Arthur shrugged. "I suppose. There are a few… complications that will need to be worked out," such as the laws banning magic and the widespread prejudice in Camelot against sorcerers, "but as long as Merlin uses discretion and brings no harm to my kingdom, his magic will be permitted."

Gaius gave him one last searching look before his lips twitched into a smile. "Then, with your permission sire, I will give Merlin a potion to wake him up so he can help heal himself."

"Merlin can use his magic to heal people?" Arthur asked in wonder.

"Of course, although I have to admit it is not his greatest talent. Healing Gwen's father was one of the few times he got it right with his first go, without any instruction from me or the – or someone else."

"Gwen's father? Merlin was the one who cured Gwen's father? He was actually telling the truth?!" He remembered Merlin bursting into the council chambers, claiming culpability for the crime Guinevere had been arrested for, but Arthur had just laughed it off as the ridiculous notion it was… or wasn't, as it turned out.

"Yes, although I am very grateful that you convinced Uther not to believe him. You saved his life."

Arthur wondered if, had he known that Merlin was telling the truth, he would have done the same thing to protect him. Back then, probably not. But their friendship had grown a lot since then. Even so, Arthur had nearly executed Merlin mere hours ago, so it was no wonder that Merlin had never again dared to tell him the truth, inasmuch as it hurt to think that Merlin hadn't trusted him.

Gaius retrieved a small vial from his stores and coaxed Merlin to swallow it.

At first, nothing happened. Merlin, Arthur reflected, was one stubborn sleeper. No wonder he was late to work so often.

Gaius lightly slapped him on his uninjured cheek to speed up the waking process and Arthur suddenly remembered how the last attempt to wake Merlin had ended up.

"Gaius, I don't think that is such a good-"

He saw the slight twitch in Merlin's facial muscles and reacted, seizing Gaius by his tunic and yanking him down to the floor, flattening them both just as a violent concussion shook the air over their heads. There was the sound of shattering glass and the clatter of miscellaneous objects hitting the wall, then a gasp sounded from the bed.

"G-Gaius?"

Figuring that the danger had passed, Arthur stood and helped Gaius to his feet. The physician dusted himself off and scowled down at his ward.

"Merlin!"

"I didn't mean to!" Merlin blurted, sitting up with a groan and surveying with dismay the destruction he had inadvertently caused. "I'm sorry – are you alright?" He looked to Arthur, blue eyes earnest with apology and concern.

"Fine," Arthur said dryly. "I'm a fast learner."

"Whatever were you thinking, boy?" Gaius asked, sounding every bit the annoyed father figure. "You could have blasted both of us into the wall hard enough to break bones if the king hadn't acted so fast."

Guilt and distress flooded Merlin's features. "I don't know what's happening to me! My magic has never acted like this before, Gaius, I don't know what's wrong with it!"

Merlin sounded almost frightened, and Arthur felt a stirring of unease. "Aren't sorcerers supposed to have control over their magic and not the other way around?"

"Usually, sire," Gaius answered, "but by strict definition Merlin is not a sorcerer. He's a warlock. His magic operates on an instinctual basis. It is only through training, practice and discipline that he is able to contain and control it."

Arthur's brow wrinkled. "So… what you're saying is… What are you saying?"

"The fact that Merlin is a warlock may have some bearing in this situation."

"How?" Merlin asked, giving Arthur the impression that, despite being born to it, Merlin knew less about magic than Gaius did. He was probably learning more from his mentor than just the work of a physician, which explained why those books of magic had been found in their quarters.

Arthur felt anger rise up in him again; he did not like being deceived by the people closest to him, even if they did have a good reason. He pushed the feeling aside, resolving to grill Gaius about Merlin's so-called heroics later so the thought of Merlin's magic would bring up positive emotions rather than this confused mess.

"I'm not sure," Gaius replied. "Merlin, when you were… attacked… by the knights-" Merlin flinched unconsciously and Arthur unknowingly mirrored him, hating that the Lamia had caused Merlin to have reason to fear his own friends, "-did you use magic to defend yourself against them?"

"No!" Merlin sounded offended by the very idea. "Of course not!"

"Did you want to?"

"No. I could never hurt any of them, unless…" he looked down and mumbled quickly, "unlesstheyweregoingtohurtArthur." He flushed at the admission and wouldn't meet Arthur's gaze.

Arthur didn't comment because, honestly, he had no idea what to say. Merlin had allowed himself to be beaten to a pulp rather than bring harm to the knights he had befriended, his loyalty to them stronger than his will for self-preservation, their lives placed above his. But Merlin had just admitted, too, that if it was a choice between them and Arthur, he would choose Arthur without hesitation. Arthur knew how close Merlin and Gwaine were, and was ashamed to admit that at times Gwaine was a far better friend to his servant than Arthur himself was, and yet if it came right down to it, if Merlin had to choose, he would choose Arthur.

Coughing over the bubble of sappy sentimentalism that had expanded rapidly between the two younger men with just those few words, Gaius continued, "That may be, Merlin, but surely when your life was in peril your magic would have reacted automatically."

Merlin's eyes glazed over for a moment and he shuddered, as though reliving the moment when the knights had been trying to kill him. Arthur wished he could go back in time to that moment and rush in to protect his friend from suffering such an ordeal. He should have been there. He shouldn't have let Merlin go off alone. He should have-

"When Leon's boot slammed into my ribs," Merlin said quietly, "it felt like my chest was caving in. I couldn't breathe. It hurt, god, it hurt so much, and they wouldn't stop. I knew they wouldn't stop. I felt the magic flooding through my veins, filling me with power enough to fight back. But I just couldn't do that to them. I wouldn't. So I pushed the magic back, refusing to let it out even if the effort to suppress it killed me."

Arthur felt a deep chill at the retelling, imagining the terror that Merlin must have felt, imagining the strength of will it must have taken not to lash out in his own defence. "How did you escape?" he found himself asking.

Merlin shrugged, and then winced as the movement pained him. "I pretended to pass out, and when they stepped back to get a better look at their handiwork, I ran." He paled, and his next words were barely above a whisper. "They chased me."

There was a minute of silence as Merlin's slim frame trembled. Gaius squeezed his hand, offering wordless support and the best attempt at comfort he could give.

"So if you could hold back the magic then," Arthur said finally, trying to prevent himself from pulling Merlin into a hug and never letting him go, "why couldn't you when Gaius and I tried to wake you?"

"I don't know," Merlin said miserably.

"But don't you see, Merlin? That's what must have caused it," Gaius said. How was it that this man always seemed to have the answers? "You didn't let your magic protect you when it was needed most, and now in an effort to keep you alive it is overreacting to every small thing that could possibly be a threat to you. It can't have helped that the lines between friend and foe were blurred when the knights turned on you; maybe your magic can no longer distinguish between the two and is not willing to take the risk with your life by failing to stop a potential assailant wearing the guise of a friend."

"I nearly executed him," Arthur pointed out, trying to ignore the now-familiar squirm of guilt. "That was a pretty obvious threat and his magic didn't do anything about it."

"I was holding it in with every ounce of strength I had left," Merlin told him. "I swore never to hurt you, and I wasn't about to let my magic break my word."

"There you have it then," Gaius concluded. "You were consciously and vehemently holding back the magic during that – incident." He glared at Arthur for a moment, but let it pass. "When you are not, it acts of its own accord."

Merlin stared at his mentor in dismay. "But Gaius, restraining it like that, locking it away in the deepest part of my mind and keeping the door barricaded is exhausting. I can't keep it up all day every day!"

"We must hope that as the trauma fades your magic will settle back under your normal level of control. And sooner, rather than later."

Arthur rubbed at his aching head. He had no idea this magic business was so complicated. How did Merlin deal with it on top of all his other responsibilities to Arthur and to Gaius? The poor lad had to be running himself ragged, and everything had just become harder for him.

Merlin nodded tiredly, one of his frail arms unconsciously slipping around his battered torso in an attempt to hold back the pain his ribs had to be causing him. Arthur didn't think he had ever seen the younger man looking so forlorn.

"Your magic wants to protect you, right?" Arthur said rhetorically. "So you might have to keep it in some of the time, but right now your body has a lot of healing to do. Gaius mentioned that your magic might be able to help with that. That would come under the banner of protecting you, wouldn't it?"

Merlin nodded uncertainly.

"So let it out. Let it at least heal the injuries it couldn't prevent."

"Are you sure, Arthur?"

Merlin was still uncertain, even after Arthur had sat through an entire conversation about magic with them without having either of them arrested.

"Yes. You've been in pain for far too long already."

"But Gaius, I don't know how…"

"Start with the spell Gelácne þurhhælest innanwunda sárbenna," the physician instructed, "and I believe your magic will take it from there."

Merlin nodded, and repeated the strange words back with perfect accuracy. His eyes flashed gold.

A blinding light engulfed his body, forcing both Gaius and Arthur to close their eyes tightly and turn away. The power emanating from Merlin was so palpable that Arthur could feel it humming under his skin, resonating throughout his body and soul. When it finally faded he missed it as though something dear had been torn from him, but then he remembered about Merlin and forced himself to focus back on his friend.

He was relieved to see that Merlin's skin was clear of bruises, his ribs (still visible because he was rather too thin even when he was healthy) seemed whole and unbroken, and not even the trace of scars remained from the gashes inflicted by Arthur's blade. But Merlin was once again unconscious, and that concerned him.

"No need to worry, sire," Gaius said, reading his mind. "Merlin is going to be just fine. He is sleeping peacefully now. His body needs the rest, so we shall leave him to sleep until he wakes up on his own, when he is well and ready."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you for looking after him, Gaius."

"My pleasure, sire," Gaius responded cheerfully, and then his expression became serious as his eyes locked with Arthur's for a long moment. "Thank you, Arthur, for accepting Merlin for who he is. You cannot even begin to understand how much that means to him."

Arthur remembered Merlin's words in the moments before he thought he was to be killed.

"All I ever wanted was your acceptance. If I cannot have that… then there is no point in living anyway."

Perhaps he couldn't ever truly understand, but Merlin had given him a glimpse and it was all Arthur needed to see to know that he had made the right choice. Merlin would never need to fear his rejection again.

ooOOoo