A/N: I won't normally be able to update this fast but what the hell, it's the weekend. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Chapter Two

Returning to consciousness without immediately being assaulted by pain was an incredibly beautiful sensation that Merlin had once taken for granted. No longer. He revelled in the ability to shift and stretch out his muscles without feeling aches and bruises and screeching ribs. He luxuriated in the ability to run fingers through his hair without brushing over a blood-crusted bump that would send a jagged flash of fire through his skull. He treasured the moment when he stood up without being struck by a wave of dizziness and the fact that he could walk over to his cupboard without limping.

It was a rare morning, too, when did not wake to either Gaius or Arthur yelling at him. So, despite the memories that lingered like shadows at the fringes of his thoughts, Merlin was able to pull on a bright smile and face the day ahead with his usual cheerfulness and optimism.

He was surprised to find that Gaius was still sleeping. He felt the irrational urge, no doubt inspired by the fact that not long ago he had feared he would never see the man again, to wake up his mentor just so he could hug him tightly. He settled for quietly making breakfast for them instead, eating his own portion silently and slipping out of their chambers without disturbing him.

He strolled leisurely through the quiet castle and picked up the King's breakfast from the kitchens, merely smiling at the head cook when she commented that she had never seen him retrieve the meal on time before and heading on his way.

Merlin felt… happy. If he didn't let himself think too much, he could almost pretend that the Lamia incident had never happened.

"Looks good," a voice commented, and a hand darted into his line of sight. Before he could process the fact that the trajectory of the hand would result in the snatching of a freshly baked bread roll and not anything more nefarious, magic exploded out from him, slamming the offender into the wall.

Fear nearly choked him. He had forgotten how unstable his magic was at the moment and belatedly rectified his mistake, seizing it in an iron grip and wrenching it back to where it could do no more harm. Only then did he warily turn to see who he had unintentionally attacked this time.

Gwaine groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. "Geez, Merlin, has any one every told you that your extreme over-protectiveness for the King's food is a little strange?"

Merlin flushed. "Sorry, Gwaine. I didn't mean to-"

Gwaine raised a hand to cut him off. "No harm done." He moved to give Merlin a friendly pat on the shoulder, but Merlin was so focused on containing his magic that he couldn't prevent himself from flinching away.

Gwaine stepped back, a pained expression in his eyes. "Merlin, I'm not going to hurt you."

Merlin nodded. "I know. I know that. It's fine, I'm sorry. I just – I have to go. Arthur doesn't like it when I'm late with his breakfast."

Not giving the knight a chance to reply, Merlin fled.

He slipped into Arthur's chambers and closed the door behind him, leaning against it as he tried to regain his composure. He hated this. He hated this.

He forced himself to calm his breathing and move back into the normal routine. He set Arthur's plate on the table and pulled open the curtains. "Rise and shine!" he announced cheerfully.

"Merlin…" Arthur groaned, predictably. He moped and moaned about getting up almost every morning, sometimes necessitating being physically dragged out of bed.

Merlin wasn't expecting for Arthur, barely a few seconds later, to suddenly sit bolt upright. "Merlin!"

He disguised the jolt of surprise as a trip over the table leg, knowing Arthur wouldn't find anything odd about that. "Yes, sire, I know, it's a miracle – I'm actually on time for once."

"You're awake!"

Merlin frowned at him. "Well I don't think I'm sleepwalking."

"You've been unconscious for two full days," Arthur told him. "You had me – I mean, you had Gaius worried."

Merlin smiled at this further piece of evidence that the king cared about him. "Well I'm thankful for the rest. I feel a lot better now."

"Enough to return to work?"

Merlin gave him a shrewd look. "That depends on whether 'work' includes mucking out the stables."

Arthur's lips twitched. "It does need doing…"

"Then no, sire," Merlin sighed regretfully, "I'm afraid I just don't think I'm well enough."

"Hm. And if I said that the stable boys could take care of it this time?"

"Then I feel fine!" Merlin said brightly, and Arthur chuckled.

"There's plenty more work for you to be getting on with, you know. My chambers need cleaning-"

Merlin let a little of his magic trickle out, his eyes flashing gold. A few seconds later everything in the room had returned to its proper place, the fireplace was swept out and lit, and the floor was so clean it sparkled.

He grinned at the slightly stunned look on his king's face.

Arthur shook his head as though to clear it. "-my clothes need laundering-"

Merlin turned his gaze on the cupboard. The doors opened and magic rustled like wind through the garments within. "I think you'll find they are already mended, cleaned and pressed, sire."

"-my boots-"

Another flash of gold. "Them too."

"-okay, well, my armour needs polishing-"

Merlin looked to the stack of armour in the corner and waved a hand in its direction. "There; it is probably shiny enough to blind your opponents now."

Arthur stared at him, speechless, and there was something in his eyes… something that might have been awe. The King of Camelot was, however reluctantly, impressed with the work of his servant. It was the recognition Merlin had longed for, but what really made his heart swell with happiness was the fact that he could, at long last, share this part of his life with his best friend.

"So I guess you have a natural talent after all," Arthur said finally.

Merlin grinned. "Yeah, I'm not completely useless."

Arthur's serious eyes pinned him. "I didn't think you were before."

Merlin shrugged a little with embarrassment, but he didn't really mind the open sentiment. "I know," he mumbled, then offered one of his trade-mark grins to prompt Arthur's eye roll and usual,

"Oh, don't look so pleased. You've just given me an excuse to give you even more work to do."

Merlin pretended to look crestfallen, but Arthur had not objected to his use of magic to complete his chores so he didn't really mind if he ended up with a few more tasks to do for his King. He enjoyed being useful.

"But first, we have training. And Merlin… it might be better if you don't use magic out in public just yet."

Merlin did deflate then, feeling disappointment creep through him. He tried not to sound accusing. "You said you were going to lift the ban."

"And I will," Arthur promised. "But it isn't as simple as just standing up and making an announcement that magic is legal again. It will take time. I'm sure you understand that."

Merlin nodded. He had been hiding his secret for this long anyway; he supposed he could wait a little longer. For now, it was enough that Arthur knew and didn't hate him for it.

As he served Arthur breakfast and helped him to change into his armour, Merlin tried not to think about who it was that they were about to join on the training field, though the nausea squirming in his gut was hard to ignore. He just had to hope that Arthur would settle for having him lug the weapons around rather than making him the target. He didn't know if he could handle having them come after him like that, after…

He shivered.

He didn't notice that Arthur had seen, or the concern that filled his gaze before his blue eyes hardened with determination to ensure that the knights suffered the toughest training session of their lives today.

Merlin followed his king down to the field where the knights were already assembled, unconsciously hovering behind him for protection from the weight of their gazes. There was an awkward silence in place of the once easy camaraderie that had existed between them, a chasm of distance rent by violence and secrets. As hard as Merlin tried, he just couldn't look at them the same way, and he suspected that their knowledge of his power made the same true in reverse.

"Uh, it's good to see you well, Merlin," Elyan eventually spoke up. He had been knocked out of Lamia's little game early on, before the castle and everything that had happened there, so while he had not been kind and had been a little rough Merlin supposed he had less to feel awkward about.

The others echoed the sentiment, and Merlin sensed that they were relieved that they had been saved from having to speak first.

"Thanks," he replied. There was another pause.

"This isn't a social club," Arthur barked finally. "Merlin, I want all of those swords sharpened – the conventional way – by the time we're finished here."

There were at least twenty swords on the rack Arthur indicated, all blunt and chipped from too many training duels, but sharpening them was a preferable task to being the moving target. Merlin was grateful he would be able to stay on the sidelines.

"As for the rest of you," Arthur continued, and his tone was considerably sharper, "Leon, you will be duelling against me. Gwaine and Elyan, pair up against Percival. We will rotate every fifteen minutes until each of you have challenged me. Then, we are going to try something different."

This time, Merlin didn't miss the steely glare in Arthur's eyes and, judging by the way Gwaine swallowed nervously and the others exchanged uneasy glances, the knights saw it too.

As the knights moved into battle stances, Merlin settled down with a sword and a whetstone, watching the fights only infrequently.

He discovered that he could pick out the distinctive ring of Arthur's sword amongst the loud clashes of steel that echoed through the air, and he could also tell by the high frequency and volume of his blows that Arthur was in a bad mood.

It wasn't until Arthur revealed his new training idea, however, that Merlin realised why.

The excuse Arthur gave when laying down his new orders was that his men were skilled fighters when the odds were in their favour, but in the real world battles were not always so accommodating. As such, Arthur reasoned, they needed more practice in less than favourable conditions, and so today he would be pitting one against four.

Merlin realised what Arthur was really doing, though, and when the knights glanced in his direction he guessed that they had worked it out as well. Arthur was forcing them to experience what it felt like to be ganged up on, as Merlin had been, and none of them dared to offer up any complaints.

Merlin didn't think that it was really the same, though. Not only were they soldiers who had both the weapons and the physical means to defend themselves, but they also knew that their lives were not in any real danger. This exercise would not make them feel the same terror and helplessness that he had; but then, he didn't wish that experience on anyone, and he knew that the point would be made at least.

One by one, each of the knights were defeated as they fought alone, coming out of it battered and bruised. They put up a better fight than Merlin had, but he reminded himself that it had been a conscious decision on his part and not a result of weakness or inadequacy.

Once the knights had all been soundly beaten, Arthur finally allowed them to rest and nurse their wounds. He spoke to them in a low tone so Merlin couldn't quite catch what was said unless he eavesdropped with magic, and he decided not to expend the energy. Arthur's voice rose with his ire, though, and Merlin heard the end of his lecture.

"…have let you off easy this time. But I swear, if anything like this happens again, if any of you ever dare to harm so much as a single hair on his head from this moment forward, you will answer to me. And there will not be enough of you left to feed the crows when I'm done with you. Understand?"

There was no trace of humour in his tone or expression; he was deadly serious.

As one, the knights bowed deeply and rumbled, "Yes, King Arthur."

Arthur eyed them critically for a moment, then nodded and moved away.

"Are you finished yet, Merlin?" he asked as he approached, sounding as though he fully expected the answer to be 'no'.

Merlin replaced the sword he had just been polishing on the rack and stood, stretching muscles that were still a bit tender. "Yes, sire," he chirped, deciding not to comment on what had just transpired. He felt guilty for getting the knights into trouble, but at the same time he was grateful that Arthur cared enough to reprimand them. It made him feel… safer.

Nevertheless, he tensed when the knights, after conferring quietly together at the other side of the training field, walked (or, in some cases, limped) towards them. Arthur pursed his lips and surreptitiously moved closer to his side.

When they were still three yards away the knights stopped. Simultaneously they dropped to their knees with a clatter of armour and bowed their heads almost to the ground.

Merlin's lips parted slightly in surprise as he looked down on them. They weren't – they couldn't be – bowing to him, could they? Surely not; he was just a lowly servant…

"Merlin," Sir Leon began, "we have grievously wronged you. Sent with you as your protectors, we instead brought you harm. We have failed in our duty, forsaken the code that governs our actions as Knights of the Realm, and betrayed one of our truest friends. We offer our deepest apologies in full knowledge that they are not nearly enough to make up for what we have done, and beg for your forgiveness in full knowledge that we are wholly undeserving."

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but they weren't finished.

"Merlin," Percival said, "I have always sworn to use my strength to defend the innocent and bring those who would hurt them to justice. But in this I am the one who is guilty, and you would be well within your rights to exact vengeance upon me. I apologise from the depths of my heart, and place myself at your mercy."

"Merlin," Elyan said, "while all you have ever been to my family is a friend, I have been inexcusably cruel to you through my words and actions. Even as we treated you appallingly, you worked to protect us, and even more importantly you protected my sister. I am indebted to you, and swear that I will do all within my power to repay that debt… although I fear I will never be able to entirely."

"Merlin," Gwaine started. His voice broke, and he tried again. "Merlin… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I cannot ask your forgiveness, because I will never be able to forgive myself for hurting you. You were the first true friend I ever had, and you changed me from a hopeless, drunk drifter to a man whose life actually has purpose. I owe you everything, but I betrayed you. I used to scorn noblemen who treated their servants like slaves, and then I turned around and treated you the same way. As if that were not betrayal enough, I… I attacked you. And I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin found that his breathing had become unsteady, and tears wavered at the corner of his eyes.

"You guys didn't mean any of it, right?" he asked softly.

Their words echoed in his mind.

"You dare to question our judgment? You are not a knight! You're not even a physician! You're nothing but a servant!"

"We've no interest in your opinion. So keep your mouth shut, or I'll shut it for you."

"You're not going anywhere."

He knew that they hadn't been in control of themselves when they spoke to him that way, but a part of him had wondered whether her influence had led them to reveal what they truly thought of him. After all, what reason did they have to think that he was anything more than a servant?

It had hurt though. He had hoped he meant more to them than that; he hoped that they were friends, even though they were the equivalent of noblemen and he was about as far down the social ladder from them as a person could get. Before, they had treated him almost as an equal, but Lamia had shattered what might have been an illusion all along.

It scared him to ask, but he had to.

"Of course we didn't!" Leon assured him, and the others echoed his words.

Some of the tension he had been feeling in their presence slipped away. "Okay," Merlin said quietly. "Then I forgive you. It's not like it was your fault anyway. She had you all under a powerful spell that no man – without magic of his own – could resist. I don't blame you…" He shifted uncomfortably. "So you can, uh, stand up now. Please?"

They did, wearing mixed expressions of guilt, relief and gratitude. Gwaine made to step forward, but Merlin's magic flared – he barely managed to restrain it, lifting a hand in warning for Gwaine to stay back.

"But," Merlin continued reluctantly, "what my mind and heart forgives is not so easy for my body and magic to forget. It's going to take time. I don't want to hurt you guys, so could you just… give me some space, for a little while?"

Gwaine retreated, his eyes sorrowful but understanding, too.

"It shall be as you say," Sir Leon spoke for the knights. "Again we apologise, Merlin. Thank you for showing us mercy."

He nodded, but decided it was high time the topic was changed. This was making him feel awkward and uncomfortable. "You should go to see Gaius and get your wounds treated," he told them. "Unless… Arthur, do you want me to heal them, using…?"

The king had remained silent until that point, but now he shook his head. "No, that will not be necessary. You are all dismissed to the physician."

The knights dipped their heads in respectful acquiescence and left the field.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, finally relaxing. He slackened his grip on his magic a bit, too, though he knew he couldn't let go altogether.

"Thank you, Arthur," he exhaled finally, glancing at his friend.

"For what?" Arthur responded gruffly.

Merlin smiled at him. There were many things he could say, but he knew with Arthur he didn't need to. "Nothing."

ooOOoo

Having sent Merlin off with a list of chores to do, Arthur approached his uncle's chambers and knocked on the door.

"Enter," came the response.

When Arthur did as he was bidden, Agravaine looked up from a stack of papers on his writing desk and smiled. "Ah, Arthur. What can I do for you?"

"There is a matter I wish to discuss with you, uncle, if you are not too busy?"

Agravaine gestured him to a chair. "I am never too busy for you, Arthur, you know that. What is it you wish to discuss?"

"I have made the decision to change one of the laws laid down by my father, and I need your help to do it."

"Oh?" Agravaine looked curious and wary at the same time.

Arthur took a deep breath. He had made a promise to Merlin, and he intended to keep it, but this was a delicate situation. He knew the advice of his uncle would be invaluable, but he would first have to convince the man that this was the correct course of action to take, and given that magic had caused the death of his sister Agravaine was not likely to be easily persuaded.

"I intend to lift the ban… on magic," Arthur announced, and braced himself.

Shock registered on Agravaine's face for a moment, and then he was protesting. "Sire! Forgive me, but are you mad? You of all people should understand the reason, no, the need for the laws against magic!"

"I understand why my father believed they were necessary, however-"

"Arthur, your mother was killed by magic," Agravaine reminded him.

An echo of grief stirred in his heart for the mother he had never known. "I have not forgotten, uncle."

"And she is not the only one," Agravaine persisted. "Camelot has been attacked and besieged by those with magic time and again. Hundreds of Camelot's citizens have lost their lives to sorcery. Your own father was murdered by a sorcerer. The people live in fear of the constant threat magic holds over them; the law and the will to uphold it is all that keeps them safe. You were not alive in the days before the Great Purge, Arthur. You cannot imagine the chaos and destruction that rampaged across the kingdom when sorcerers were allowed to roam free."

The arguments sounded similar those Arthur himself had made when he was yelling at Merlin, thinking him to be evil for the magic he was born with. "You are right, uncle. Magic, in the hands of evil people, has brought great harm to my people in the past. I do not deny it. But I have come to realise that there are also good people who have been gifted with magic, and they do not deserve to be hunted and slaughtered when they have not, in fact, done anything wrong."

Agravaine laughed a little, sounding unconvinced. "I am sorry, sire, but I have never met a 'good' sorcerer."

Arthur nodded. "Because they live in hiding. These are people who, despite how this kingdom has treated their kind, do not seek vengeance or retribution, but rather try to live in peace and harmony with the people of Camelot. Indeed, these people have even used their magic to help others."

"What proof have you that such people exist?"

Arthur thought of Merlin; so powerful, yet humble enough to be the manservant to a king; living in fear of being caught, but using magic to protect Arthur and Camelot despite the risk. "I met one," he replied simply. "He has helped me to see how misguided I have been. For years he worked from the shadows, keeping me and my kingdom safe, never expecting any praise or recognition for his deeds. I owe him my life several times over, as do the people of Camelot. He has shown me that not all magic, and not all sorcerers, are evil."

Agravaine frowned. "Who is this sorcerer?"

"Actually, he calls himself a warlock," Arthur corrected automatically. Then he smiled, almost amused by the thought of providing his uncle with this nigh-unbelievable revelation. "And you already know him. It's Merlin."

Agravaine stared at him as though he had lost his mind. "As in your manservant? That Merlin?"

"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "It turns out that the idiot was born with magic, but he came to Camelot anyway. He said something about it being his destiny to protect me?"

Agravaine's eyes widened, and he gasped out a word that Arthur didn't quite register. "Emrys?"

"What?" Arthur asked, distracted by the memory of Merlin saying "Destinies… are troublesome things." The servant had sounded so wise and knowledgeable about the topic, yet Arthur had believed him when he claimed he had simply read about it in a book. How much else had Arthur allowed to slip past him over the years? A lot, apparently.

"Oh, nothing, sire," Agravaine assured him, and Arthur let it go. "You are sure that Merlin has magic?"

"Absolutely. I saw it with my own eyes." And felt it, too, he thought ruefully; his back was still bruised from where he had struck the tree. "Finding out was a shock, but things actually make more sense this way. We have faced so many threats that should have long since spelled our doom, but somehow, miraculously, we escaped time and again with our kingdom intact."

Arthur thought about it, then, and pieces began to fall into place. The Griffin that could only be killed by magic, felled while Arthur was unconscious by a man who refused to accept credit for the deed. A deadly bite from the Questing Beast, which was supposed to be impossible to heal, that Arthur had recovered from. The threat of Cornelius Sigan, whose spirit returned from the dead to bring destruction to Camelot but, once their defences had crumbled and all hope seemed lost, had been mysteriously defeated. Conveniently timed trips, falling branches, spontaneous fires, and collapsing ruins that tipped the balance of a fight in his favour or facilitated a quick escape. The Knights of Medrir, who could not be killed, collapsing unexpectedly at Arthur's feet through no action of his own. The Great Dragon, who seemed impervious to weaponry and could only be controlled by a Dragonlord, flying away to die after Arthur had supposedly struck him and been promptly knocked out. And immortal soldiers, vanishing into nothingness in the midst of a pitched battle. All of these, and possibly more instances that Arthur had no knowledge of or simply did not remember.

He should not have survived. Camelot should have fallen.

But they were still here, and before now Arthur had not had any true explanation for why that was. A part of him had whimsically attributed the saves he could not understand to an unknown 'Guardian Angel'. Except, now he knew. It was Merlin.

"Magic has been protecting us all along," he exhaled wonderingly. He shook himself out of his thoughts, returning to the matter at hand. "And that is why I intend to make its use legal once more."

"Sire…" Agravaine ventured, "I fear you are making a hasty decision. You want to change twenty-five years of history – based on the word of a boy, a servant, who has been lying to you from the moment you met?"

Arthur's eyes hardened. "I trust Merlin. He has never been anything but loyal, and he has proven himself to be a true friend."

Agravaine dipped his head slightly. "Of course, my lord. I did not mean to cause offence. But still, sire, I must caution against doing anything too rash. If you lift the ban on magic, sorcerers could take advantage of your leniency and tear this land apart."

Arthur shook his head. "Not so, Agravaine. The laws against treason, against murder, against assault, and against the abuse of power will still stand. If a sorcerer uses magic towards evil ends, they shall bear punishment for their crimes. If, however, a sorcerer uses magic to heal and to help people, they will be permitted to do so without fear of unjust accusations and punishments. I had thought that people could be assessed by an expert and legally licenced to perform magic. They would be carefully policed, but they would also have a measure of freedom."

Agravaine appeared resigned. "I see you have thought much about this, Arthur, and you will not be dissuaded."

"So you will help me? This will not be an easy transition for the people, but I know that with your assistance it will go much smoother."

"Of course, Arthur. You can count on me."

Arthur smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Uncle. I don't know what I would do without you."

ooOOoo