Three weeks went by in no time for Merlin. The entire time he waited, he did not complain once about any assistance he received. He didn't complain about the vomit-inducing tonics Gaius had him take to increase his appetite or help lower the risk of any more infections. He complained about nothing.
Merlin leaned on the cane Gaius had provided with him as he wandered about the castle for the time in months. Many people stopped and talked to him. They would ask how he was. They would talk freely about his magic. The warlock happily talked with them.
As Merlin sat in the armoury, polishing the King's armour, Gwaine walked in. The knight was dressed in his best robes. Which Merlin thought was odd.
"Getting married?" Merlin asked, displaying his signature grin that implied he wasn't serious.
"No. Arthur has asked that I fetch you and take you to the Great Hall, but first, we need to dress you in nicer clothes," Gwaine explained.
"Why?" Merlin asked. "What's going on?"
"I've been sworn to secrecy," Gwaine said. "Now come on. We don't have all day."
Merlin and Gwaine stood in Merlin's former room. The warlock leaned against the small table and watched as Gwaine muttered about him not having enough variety in clothing. Eventually, Gwaine tossed him a purple tunic and a red jacket. "Put these on."
Moving carefully, Merlin took off his red tunic and started to put his nice purple one on. Gwaine stared at his exposed midsection, which no longer required bandaging.
"I didn't know it was that bad," Gwaine stated, staring at the wound.
The only people to ever see the wound itself were Gaius and Arthur. It just about covered the entire left half of his midsection. It was clear that there was no straight line. It looked like someone, a child or old man, with a very shaky hand, had tried to draw something, but it came out as scribbles. Instead of paper, they had done it on the skin. All the ragged lines met in the centre of the wound. The former king's goal was to inflict as much pain as possible before killing Merlin. Looked like he succeeded in the pain department. Despite the injury being healed, Merlin was still in a lot of pain and having trouble doing the simplest of tasks.
The warlock was a walking miracle. Some of those stab marks should have hit at least one vital organ, but none did.
Merlin looked down at his wound. "Not as bad as when it happened."
Gwaine shook his head and looked Merlin in the eyes. "How are you so calm? Your wound nearly killed you. Twice."
Merlin shrugged as he finished putting his shirt on. "Guess I'm used to near-death experiences. Or the shock of the severity of the experience hasn't set in yet."
The former rogue shook his head once more, at a loss for words, which was rare.
"Come on, Gwaine," Merlin said as he put on his jacket and grabbed his cane. "Arthur is waiting."
As they walked, Merlin let his thoughts wander. The wound did bother him. It gave him nightmares. In some, instead of Uther doing the deed, it was Arthur or one of the knights. But Merlin had to move past the nightmares.
Whenever Merlin found himself alone during his recovery, he thought about what would have happened if Uther hadn't tried to kill him. Magic would still be outlawed. Merlin would continue to lie about his whereabouts. He would still go unrecognized for his deeds. The price for freedom would have gone unpaid.
Thinking about the price made him wonder why he hadn't died. He had always assumed that in order for the price to be fulfilled, he or someone close to him would have had to die a painful death. Maybe he did die, but his magic brought him back somehow. Was he even capable of doing such a thing?
He stopped walking and pondered that thought for a moment. He then began to wonder why he had to be dressed so nicely and why Arthur was having him meet him in the Great Hall. If there was a feast, shouldn't he have known about it? Unless? No. There's no way. Arthur would never do that. Would he?
Merlin hadn't been aware of Gwaine talking to him. He had been standing in the same place for the past five minutes.
"Merlin, are you okay?" Gwaine asked, looking at his best friend with concern while gently shaking the younger man's shoulders.
Merlin snapped back into reality. "Yeah?"
"What's wrong? Are you hurting? Do you need to rest?" Gwaine rambled.
"I'm fine," Merlin reassured. "Just thinking."
"About what?" Gwaine questioned.
"Has Arthur planned a feast for me?" Merlin asked in return.
Gwaine hesitated for a moment before saying, "Yes. He wants to honour your unwavering loyalty and celebrate your friendship, and he wants the whole kingdom to know."
Merlin said nothing and continued to walk. By the time he and Gwaine arrived at the doors of the Great Hall, the information finally sunk in.
"Wait here," Gwaine said. "When the doors open, just walk on and acted surprised. Don't sit until Arthur finishes his speech."
Merlin mutely nodded. After Gwaine went in, he leaned up against the wall across from the doors.
Gwaine hadn't told him everything. The nobleman had left out an important detail. Merlin didn't ponder on it too much. He was, after all, about to find out.
A second later, the doors burst open, and everyone's eyes were on him.
Merlin stood up straight and began to walk into the Great Hall. No one moved or made a sound. The only sound that could be heard was the clicking of his cane and the tapping of his feet.
If Merlin had to pick one word for how he felt at this very moment, that word would be: Uncomfortable. Everything felt wrong. He was a servant. He shouldn't be the guest of honour. He should be standing near Arthur, ready to pour more wine into the prat's goblet.
He came to the centre of the hall and stood there, his mouth slightly open. He felt words of protest coming up his throat but could not get them to come out. Instead, he closed his mouth and did the only thing that sounded logical at the time, he looked at Arthur and bowed as far as his wound would allow him to.
Arthur gave him a small nod and stood up. "Merlin, in light of recent events, I have found it appropriate to hold a feast in your honour. For the past ten years of our lives together, you have served me. Over the years, your loyalty never wavered. You bravely faced and fought the same battles as me. You gave advice when advice was needed. You have been at my side during the good and the bad times. You have saved my life and countless others with your magic one too many times to count."
Merlin looked at Arthur with curiosity, wondering where this speech was going. The king continued. "For your actions and your loyalty, you are now considered a free citizen of Camelot. Instead of being just my servant, you will be my advisor on all things magical. But we can discuss those details at another time. For now, let us celebrate you and all that you've done to save Camelot."
The Great Hall burst into applause and cheers. Merlin just stood there glued to where he was, with astonishment and surprise written across his face. He stared at Arthur as the older man just smile.
After the excitement calmed down, Merlin was led to his seat next to Gaius. His uncle just patted him on the back. "Well done, Merlin."
Who simply nodded and cleared his throat in an attempt to unstick the words stuck there. "I, um, uh, think that I, uh, might pass out, um, from this."
Gaius let out a slight chuckle. "Drink some of your wine. It will calm you down, and you feel better."
Merlin listened to Gaius' advice and drank some of the wine from his goblet. His body began to relax a little bit. He was still shocked by what was happening, but he felt like he could finally think again and form proper sentences without stammering over the words.
Becoming a free citizen within Camelot was a big deal. The last person to gain such a title was Gaius over ten years ago.
Toward the end of the feast, Merlin decided to head off to bed. He was tired, and his side had gone from a dull ache to near mind-numbing pain. He had overexerted himself. He had been so excited about being able to move around without another person's help that he forgot to take it easy.
Merlin excused himself and made way for toward his and Gaius'shared chambers. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't realize that a certain king had followed him out until he was right at the bottom step that led to the chambers.
"Where do you think you're going?" A voice behind him called out.
Merlin stopped in his tracks. He hoped Arthur wouldn't keep him long. He was hurting from all the moving he had done today. "To bed."
"Well, you don't live there anymore," Arthur pointed out. "As a free citizen, you have your own personal chambers."
"I'm still Gaius' ward," Merlin stated. "I'm training under him."
"But that's only if you become Court Pyshician," the king retorted. "I have another position in mind for you. When the time is right of course."
"No, Arthur," Merlin said, knowing what the prat was planning. "I refuse."
"You didn't even let me finish," Arthur pouted.
"You don't need to," Merlin replied. "You want to name me Court Sorcerer. And I don't want it. I'm happy right where I am. There's no need to give me a fancy title or anything."
"I wasn't going to give you the position tonight," Arthur explained. "It'll be a few years before that. We need to get the people used to having magical freedom again, first and foremost. Adding a Court Sorcerer to the mix will just make it more confusing at the moment. For now, I just need an advisor. We can discuss the semantics of it later."
Merlin leaned heavily on his cane, trying to keep his balance. "Well, for tonight, I'm going to sleep here. I'm hurting too much to walk back to what is now my chambers."
Arthur studied the younger man for a moment. He did look tired, and in the few minutes they had been talking, his balance had begun to wane. "Okay. But tomorrow, we'll have your stuff transferred to your new chambers while you and discuss the new work arrangement."
"Sounds good," Merlin agreed before turning to make his way up the many steps that would lead him to what was now his old bed.
Once in the chambers, he hobbled up the few stairs it took to get to his bed and sat on the edge by the nightstand. He let his cane fall to the floor as he slowly began taking off his jacket and tunic, tossing them onto a table. He looked down at the scarred wound. It looked red and irritated after a day of over-exerting his still-weakened body.
He hated this. He hated feeling weak. He hated that Kilgharagh couldn't fully heal him as he had done in the past. However, it had all happened for a reason. Arthur repealed the ban on magic. A new destiny was likely to unfold now. Merlin could feel that much. He could feel the ways of the Old Religion unravelling was once set in stone.
As thoughts of a new future swam through his mind, he finished climbing into bed and lying down. Despite the pain he was in, he was too tired to go through Gaius' medicine cupboards, looking for the proper tonic. He figured he'd take one in the morning when he woke up.
As he drifted off to sleep, he had one final thought. Destiny was changing, and he would need to be ready.