Chapter Eleven

"There is something I do not understand, Gaius," Arthur said.

Gaius did not look up from his work. He was grinding herbs into powder, combining tinctures in a bowl and keeping an eye on a mixture that bubbled over a small flame. "I am very busy, sire. With my chambers destroyed I have lost most of my instruments and supplies, not to mention my books."

"Any help that you need-"

"The only one skilled enough to aid me is currently indisposed, sire." His tone was cold and Arthur knew the physician was still angered by his decision to move Merlin into the cave.

"It is not my intention to hinder your efforts, but I need to know." It was something that had been troubling him for a while.

Gaius sighed. "What is it, sire?"

"I did not rescue Merlin. I burst into Morgana's hut with every intention of saving him, but he was the one who saved me. He used magic to break out of his bonds and he set off an explosion, the likes of which I have never seen before. Such power, Gaius."

"You have told me this already."

"But it makes no sense. If Merlin could have broken out using his magic, why did he not do so earlier? Why did he let Morgana hurt him?"

"Morgana has long sought to uncover the identity of the one called Emrys. Merlin has made every effort to conceal his magic from her so that he might continue to protect you in secrecy."

"He would rather be tortured than let her know the truth?"

"He has suffered much at her hands over the years, Arthur – her, and others like her. But no matter what they have done to him, he has never broken that vow of silence."

"But this time his magic should have acted to save him. After the Lamia incident you said it was reacting to even the smallest hint of a threat."

Gaius paused. "That is true."

"So why didn't he defend himself against her? Why didn't he escape?"

A deep frown creased the physician's brow. "Perhaps he could not."

"How can that be?"

"The only explanation I can think of is that Morgana somehow knew of Merlin's magic and made arrangements to contain it."

Arthur recalled the image of Merlin chained to Morgana's ceiling, trying to see past the skeletal frame, gaunt skin and hollow eyes. "There were markings on the manacles around his wrist. And… a metal collar around his neck."

"I see," Gaius said heavily. "In the time of the Old Religion, such bindings were forged to restrain those with powerful magic. It was intended for criminals who used their magic to harm and abuse others. Their power is deeply supressed within them and cannot be called upon. Any attempts to use magic only strengthens the chains." A shadow crossed over his face. "Merlin must have felt utterly helpless."

"If that is so, how did he eventually escape?"

"I do not know for certain, sire, but Merlin is no ordinary sorcerer. His magic is not simply his own, but is drawn from the earth… and from you."

"Me? I have no magic."

"You were born of magic, sire, and destiny has bound your soul with Merlin's."

Arthur wrinkled his nose. "You make it sound like we're soulmates."

"In a way you are. Neither of you is complete without the other. I have heard you described as 'two sides of the same coin'. You would not have become king without Merlin's help, and he would have no purpose for his magic without you to serve and protect."

"So what are you saying?"

"Perhaps, Arthur, it was your arrival that enabled Merlin's magic to act beyond the confines of the chains in order to break free of them. Perhaps he was able to drawn on your strength to do what he could not on his own."

Arthur remembered when their eyes had locked for the first time since Merlin had gone missing. The shock of their meeting had felt almost physical, like some sort of deep, unfathomable connection between them had been activated in that moment.

"Then my being there did help."

"You saved his life, sire. And you brought him home."

Arthur couldn't feel any sense of accomplishment over that. "Not completely. If we share such a unique bond, why can't I get through to him?"

"Sire, you are the only one he has even attempted to communicate with. If anyone can reach him, you can. But it will take time."

"Time," Arthur sighed. Since becoming King, time had seemed in short supply. "I will do what I can."

"I know you will."

ooOOoo

Arthur was exhausted.

Repairs to the castle were under way, the new laws regarding magic had been drafted despite the continued objections of a select few councillors, two new knights had been inducted into the ranks of Camelot's army and various other matters of state had been addressed. Even so, his list of duties seemed to grow longer with every passing day. He felt harried and rushed, never realising how well Merlin had kept his affairs in order and how much his little contributions had made a difference to his work load until now.

It was late in the evening before Arthur had the chance to sit down. He sat across from Guinevere at the dining table and tried to make light conversation, but he could only pick half-heartedly at his dinner. Eventually he gave it up as a lost cause, shoving his plate aside and pushing his chair back.

"Arthur-"

"I'm not hungry."

"You've barely eaten at all the past few days," Gwen reminded him. "And you've barely slept. You need to rest, Arthur; you need your strength."

"There is not enough time in a day," Arthur said. He knew he could not shirk his duties during daylight hours, so he had been spending most of his nights visiting Merlin instead.

Gwen easily followed his train of thought. "I checked on him half an hour ago. He will be fine for one night."

"I don't want him to feel that he is alone." Merlin had always stayed by Arthur's side whenever he was ill or injured or grieving; Arthur owed him nothing less.

"You cannot help him if you are too tired to function."

"I will only be a few hours. I can sleep when I return."

"Arthur, I know how hard this is for you. Seeing him like this is painful. You want to fix him, to make him better somehow, and it is difficult to accept that there is nothing you can do. But the pace you are trying to set for yourself is just not sustainable. You are going to burn out at this rate and if that happens I am afraid we will lose you too. Arthur, I am truly sorry, but for your sake and for the sake of the kingdom I cannot let you-"

"I have made up my mind, Guinevere." Arthur moved towards the doorway, but he paused to squeeze Gwen's shoulder briefly on his way past. He understood her concern, he just couldn't do anything to alleviate it.

Soul-bonded or not, he needed Merlin and Merlin needed him. It was as simple as that.

As Arthur followed what was becoming a well-worn trail down into the caves, he wondered how Merlin would receive him. The first time he tried to visit he had ended up sitting half-way down the tunnel talking to a wall because Merlin's magic had pushed him out. The second time Merlin had allowed him to come closer but never once glanced in his direction. Over the next few days they had graduated to sitting together in comfortable silence, and gradually Arthur had begun talking to Merlin as he always had, about anything and everything. The conversation was more one-sided than he would like, but Merlin listened attentively and the sound of Arthur's voice seemed to put him at ease. Yesterday, though, Merlin had blown up out of nowhere while Arthur was giving him an update on the kingdom – it must have been something he said, but he had only been talking about a farmers' land dispute that Agravaine had helped him resolve so he couldn't imagine what had set Merlin off.

"Merlin," Arthur called gently. He felt a trickle of air across his skin and recognised the feeling as Merlin's magic scoping him out. "I'm coming to join you, if that's alright."

The magic made no attempt to reject him so he approached cautiously and found Merlin sitting cross-legged on his mattress, staring out into the cavern. He looked to be deep in thought.

"Don't think too hard, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself," Arthur quipped. Merlin had said the same to him shortly after the Lamia incident – a burst of wit and humour that had come easily to him despite the ordeal he had suffered. Merlin was remarkably resilient and had always seemed to bounce back from whatever hardships life threw at him. He would have been okay.

But Morgana had kicked him when he was down. She had taken an already traumatised individual and tortured him beyond the point of human endurance. What she had put him through was more than any man could take.

Arthur had loved Morgana as a sister and couldn't find it within himself to hate her, not after her betrayal, not after what she had done to his father, not even after the harm she had brought on Camelot. But he hated her now with every fibre of his being. What she had done to Merlin was cruel and inhumane, underserved, unforgivable. Evil.

Unconsciously his hands balled into fists as anger bubbled up within him. He wanted vengeance for the atrocities done to Merlin, he wanted to inflict the same agonies in return, he wanted to unleash every violent instinct he had, he wanted-

A gentle hand closed over his fist, startling him out of his reverie.

The look in Merlin's eyes was steady, calm, reassuring. It was as though he could read Arthur's mind and wanted to ease the turmoil there.

Arthur sighed, letting the potent fury ebb away. "I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around."

Merlin shrugged a little and pulled his hand away. Arthur regretted the loss of contact but he couldn't very well grab Merlin's hand again; they were both self-respecting men, after all. He didn't want Merlin to think he wasn't appreciative of the gesture, though.

"But you've never cared for how things are 'supposed' to be, have you?" Arthur said. "You were never supposed to talk back to me or call me out when I was being an ass. You were never supposed to offer advice. You were never supposed to ride into battle with me. We were never supposed to be friends. You have turned everything about how the world is supposed to work on its head, and I am tremendously grateful to you for that. You have changed the way I see things. You have made Camelot a better kingdom, and you have made me a better man."

Arthur realised he was spouting the sort of sentiments that he would never usually permit past his lips and felt the tips of his ears heat. If anyone else had heard that… He scowled at Merlin. "Is this your master plan? Not interrupting me so I ramble on until I say something embarrassing?"

The corner of Merlin's lips curved upwards, just slightly.

"Okay, now it is your turn. I can't be carrying on this conversation all by myself."

Sadness crossed over Merlin's face. He looked down at his hands, absently rubbing a thumb over his knuckles.

"I know you're not talking. I won't deny that I miss our banter, but you don't have to say anything. What about that thing you did before, when you showed me your memories? Maybe you could show me what you were thinking so hard about before."

Merlin looked uncertain.

"Come on. Now that I know about your magic, I would like to think there is nothing you can't tell me."

Hesitantly, Merlin reached out a hand. Arthur closed his eyes, letting Merlin know that it was okay. Sure, it was the most bizarre form of communication that Arthur had ever experienced, but it was a way for him to get to know his friend better.

He felt fingertips brush against his forehead and the nudging presence in his mind that he knew to be Merlin. He offered no resistance and soon a barrage of images was flooding his mind.

"Whoa, slow down. There's no rush."

The memories slowed and came into focus.

Merlin stared in wonder at the vast cavern stretching out before him. He would never have imagined that such a place existed beneath Camelot and he had no idea who would have called him here, or why. But his magic could sense that he was not alone. There was someone here, or something, ancient and powerful, and somehow kin. "Where are you?"

The air around him suddenly thrummed with deep magic that resonated in his bones and set his heart racing. There was a rumbling growl and the heavy beat of wings, and out of the depths of the cave appeared an enormous dragon. "I'm here."

Merlin could only stare in shock.

The dragon settled into his perch, amusement radiating from him. "How small you are… for such a great destiny."

Merlin had been down here before. Not because he was lost in the vast castle or because he was morbidly curious about the monster in the dark, but because the dragon had called him. He had actually spoken to the dragon without being burned to a cinder. Arthur was so busy trying to wrap his mind around the implications that he barely noticed Merlin's insult "There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot", though he realised that this conversation had to have happened not long after Merlin had first arrived in Camelot.

"None of us can choose our destinies, Merlin. And none of us can escape it."

Arthur remembered how Merlin had saved him from the knife thrown by a sorceress, inspiring Uther to appoint him as Arthur's servant. Merlin had been as displeased by the idea as Arthur had, but there had been no getting out of it. There were stuck with each other.

Destiny.

"It seems the universe expects us to achieve some great things together. Uniting Albion… my father never believed it was possible, but around you nothing seems impossible."

Arthur wasn't sure that Merlin was hearing him; he seemed preoccupied. The memories cycled through more meetings in this cave and Arthur listened with interest, learning more about the ancient creature that he had only thought of as a monster. It spoke mostly in riddles, he noticed, but it had timeless knowledge and power beyond imagining. It had helped Merlin save Arthur and Camelot more than once, but it had also been manipulating him to its own ends.

With a sinking feeling, Arthur realised where these memories were leading. "Merlin, please tell me you didn't."

But the Knights of Medrir were an enemy Merlin did not know how to defeat, and the dragon would only give the aid he needed for a promise in return.

"You were the one who set him free," Arthur exhaled.

It was written in the Knight's Code that a man should be true to his word. Merlin had been faced with an impossible situation. If he had done nothing, Arthur and Uther would have surely been killed and the kingdom would have been at Morgause's mercy. Had Arthur been in the same position, he probably would have done the same.

But the consequences had been severe. The dragon had destroyed much of the city and many people had been killed.

The attack hadn't just been the simple, mindless rage of a beast, though. The Great Dragon was a creature of intelligence and deep emotion. Uther had exterminated the dragons, waged war against magic and imprisoned him in this cave for decades. It was little wonder that the dragon had sought revenge.

Arthur could feel the guilt and fear rolling off Merlin in waves. "You did what you had to," Arthur assured him. "The dragon would have found a way to escape eventually, and if it wasn't for you we would never have been able to defeat him."

Some of Merlin's tension eased at his words, and Arthur had to wonder how many more secrets like this Merlin had been keeping from him. It must have been a terrible weight to bear on his own. "Can you… can you show me what happened?"

But rather than show the confrontation with the dragon, Merlin's memories morphed into his first cautious steps through the mouth of a cave.

Arthur frowned. It looked familiar, like he had been there before, but it was not within Camelot's lands.

A man stepped out from the shadows.

The dragon lord, Arthur thought. But the first word that came to Merlin's mind was vastly different and the emotions that accompanied it slammed into Arthur like a ton of bricks.

Father.

Arthur recoiled, breaking the connection between them. The real world crashed in around them; a cave just as dark and lonely as the one where Balinor had been forced to live for fear of discovery.

Balinor. Merlin's father.

Unshed tears shone in Merlin's eyes as he slowly lowered his hand. He didn't meet Arthur's gaze.

"Balinor was your father."

During their mission to find the last dragon lord Arthur had known there was something wrong. Merlin had been moody and preoccupied but when Arthur asked what was upsetting him he wouldn't give a straight answer. It had been Merlin who found him and somehow he had managed to convince the man to help when nothing Arthur had said had managed to sway him. He should have suspected something then. Arthur had been concerned by how quickly Merlin had grown attached to Balinor, but he never would have guessed that Merlin was his son.

Two days. Merlin had known his father for all of two days, and then he had watched him die in his arms.

"No man is worth your tears."

Arthur thought that Merlin gave of his heart too freely. If he had realised that Merlin was grieving for his father he never would have been so insensitive. He had only meant that Merlin shouldn't cryfor him, since he had known that in choosing to face the dragon he was riding to his death. He had known how much Merlin cared for him, even if the words had never been said aloud, and he didn't want to be the reason for Merlin's tears.

But Merlin had saved him, like he always saved him. Arthur owed him a debt he could never repay.

He gently squeezed Merlin's shoulder, wishing that he had more to offer than words. "I'm sorry about your father."

Merlin scrubbed at his eyes in an attempt to contain his emotion, but his magic gathered clouds above them and a gentle rain began to fall, expressing what he could not.

"I know he would have been proud of you for killing the dragon in his place."

The rain stopped but the clouds darkened as Merlin shook his head. He reached out and showed Arthur another memory; the confrontation with the dragon. Arthur winced when he saw himself get knocked unconscious, but then he could only watch in awe as the dragon that had terrorised Camelot submitted meekly to his servant's commands. It was a bit of a rude shock to discover that the dragon was not dead after all, but to be honest Arthur admired the fact that Merlin had shown mercy. Uther had always told him that a merciful man was a weak man, but Arthur disagreed; he believed that it was a sign of great strength.

Merlin seemed to be waiting with bated breath for his reaction. "You did the right thing," Arthur told him, and he meant it. It had been a decision worthy of a king, made by an unassuming servant who had never received a day's royal training in his life.

Surprise registered in Merlin's features. The clouds dissipated; an outward representation of his relief.

"There really is a lot more to you than meets the eye," Arthur said. He had known it; the first day they met he had been able to tell that there was something about this boy who dared to stand up to a prince, he just hadn't been able to put his finger on what it was. "My servant, not only a warlock but a dragon lord as well. You never cease to amaze me, Merlin."

Merlin's gaze was thoughtful. Arthur wondered if perhaps this had been a test to see if he could truly accept everything about who Merlin was and what he had done.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

There was a long, pregnant pause. Arthur knew that there was something Merlin was holding back from him, something to do with the unnamed threat he seemed so sure was present in Camelot, but when Merlin opened his mouth it was only to yawn.

Arthur tried to hide his disappointment. "Yeah, I'm tired too. You should get some rest."

Merlin nodded.

Arthur squeezed his arm gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

ooOOoo