-XXX-
Merlin burst into Gaius' chambers in his usual boisterous manner, all speed with little coordination; the loud bang of the door shutting behind him reverberated in the physician's ears as he set down the tincture he'd been mixing with a put-upon sigh. He loved the boy as if he were his own son, truly, but sometimes he missed the peace and quiet that came with living alone.
"Gaius! Here are those herbs you asked for," Merlin said by way of greeting, tossing a small satchel of plants on the table before whirling for his bedroom, taking not a second's pause.
"What has you in such a hurry?" Gaius called out after him, sorting through the herbs to make sure they were the correct ones, not that he expected otherwise. After years of being his apprentice, Merlin was almost as good as a physician himself. A couple more years of practice under his belt and he'd be a fine healer. He would learn everything even more quickly if he wasn't always running after the king or saving Camelot from certain doom.
"Arthur and the Knights are getting ready to leave for the border!" He replied breathlessly, darting in and out of sight as he moved around his room gathering supplies. "Arthur said if I'm late he's leaving me behind—not that that'd stop me, of course," he added with a snort, barreling back into the main room with a leather bag stuffed full of his belongings. He made a quick stop by the shelf containing medicinal herbs, picking out a few he thought he might need on a long journey.
"I thought Lancelot was handling things at the border," Gaius said, eyebrows furrowing in concern. The knight had been gone for three weeks now dealing with issues near the Mountains of Andor. Multiple villages had been raided by bandits the last couple months, and Lancelot had been sent with another dozen or so knights to drive them out.
Merlin nodded as he stuffed jars of medicinal tinctures and healing salves into his pack. "He sent word after the latest attack. Apparently the villagers told him a sorcerer led the raid," he explained grimly.
"A sorcerer? Was it Morgause?" Gaius questioned worriedly. No one had seen her since her and Agravaine's attempt to take the citadel failed a year ago. Her absence was suspicious to say the least, but it was too dangerous to seek her out. If she was surfacing again now, it could only mean terrible things to come.
Merlin chewed his lip contemplatively, his gaze downcast. "They didn't get a good look, but that would be my guess. It's Arthur's, too. That's why we're going," he explained, hefting the pack over his shoulder. "He doesn't want Lance and the other knights dealing with her alone. You know how he is—hero complex and all." Merlin rolled his eyes, heading for the door.
"Surely he doesn't expect you to fight her?" Gaius exclaimed before the boy could make a hasty getaway.
Merlin scowled. "No, actually, he doesn't. He'd rather leave me here and go after her himself, the clotpole. It's been weeks since he found out I had magic and he still thinks I'm just as useless as before!" He complained. Gaius held back his own eye roll at that.
"I'm sure that's not true," the old physician placated. "He probably just wants to protect you."
"Yeah, well, I don't need protection," Merlin huffed, opening the door with a little more force than necessary.
"Don't underestimate her, Merlin," Gaius warned.
Merlin paused in the doorway, his expression softening as he sent his mentor a reassuring smile. "I'll be careful, Gaius. I won't let her hurt Arthur," he promised, then hurried into the corridor, slamming the door behind him. Gaius deflated, leaning back against the table.
"It's not Arthur I'm worried about," he muttered.
-XXX-
-XXX-
"Merlin, will you please stop fidgeting like that? You're making me nervous," Arthur groused, shifting to get more comfortable in his saddle. The servant's gaze was flitting around as if expecting a horde of bandits to leap out of the bushes, and it was starting to put the entire group on edge. Merlin had always been prone to having funny feelings ; now that they knew of his magic, they had less of an inclination to dismiss them. However, Arthur was almost sure they would experience no trouble on their current path, as it was regularly patrolled and relatively clear of ruffians.
Distracted as he was, Merlin made no acknowledgement of Arthur's presence at all until Llamrei walked right into Hengroen's side. He jumped in surprise at the contact, accidentally yanking his mare's reins too hard to the left. She nickered loudly in protest, throwing her head back as a warning for her rider to pay attention. Merlin muttered hasty apologies under his breath, smoothing her mane. The words sounded suspiciously like the Old Tongue to Arthur, and he gave his manservant an uncomfortable side glance. Merlin's eyes stayed their normal cerulean, but Llamrei did calm down almost immediately. When he sat back up straight and met Arthur's inquisitive gaze, he swallowed nervously.
"I just…have a way with horses, I guess," he said sheepishly, casting a brief glance over his shoulder at the Knights. None of them looked his direction, but it was obvious by the fact that they'd subtly moved closer that they were listening in on the conversation. They'd been mostly silent on the trip, but Arthur hadn't missed how they all kept a close eye on Merlin, waiting for any signs of magic. Everyone was curious to see how often he really used it on these types of journeys, Arthur included. So far, they had all been disappointed to find that nothing had seemed to change at all. Arthur wondered if the servant was aware he was being observed and was purposefully avoiding performing any spells. Or perhaps he would only use it if they were in danger.
"Yes, a way of falling off of them at every opportunity," Arthur quipped in return, trying to ease the awkward tension.
Merlin's shoulders dropped in relief, and he guided Llamrei a bit closer to the king, recapturing the distance he'd subconsciously put between them. "How much farther are we traveling today? It'll be dark soon," he noted, ignoring Arthur's jibe.
"Yeah, Princess!" Gwaine chimed in, no longer pretending he hadn't been eavesdropping. "We've been riding non-stop for hours. I'm starving to death back here!"
"It's true. I can hear his stomach grumbling from here," Percival added teasingly. Gwaine merely groaned in agreement and rubbed his stomach exaggeratedly.
"Thank you for volunteering to lay the traps, Gwaine," Arthur said brightly. Merlin laughed lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he looked back at his pouting friend.
"Don't worry, Gwaine. I'll make sure you're served your dinner first," he promised. Gwaine's pout disappeared and he sent the servant a conspiratorial wink.
"Oi! Who's the king here?" Arthur complained.
Merlin peered at him through squinted eyes. "Dunno. I only see a prat."
"Treason," Arthur reminded him without any heat.
"Look! There's a lovely clearing just up ahead!" Gwaine announced, clapping his hands together in anticipation.
Arthur rolled his eyes but obliged to the implied request. No one bothered to hide their relief when he called for them to make camp for the night. Even Leon eagerly dismounted once they'd made it to the clearing's edge, offering to tie up everyone's horses. Gwaine dragged Elyan off into the forest to help him hunt down some food, Percival grabbed a whetstone from his saddlepack to begin sharpening swords, and Leon went to gather firewood once all the horses were tethered. Merlin immediately unpacked the bedrolls and laid them out one by one, then began collecting nearby rocks that would form a circle for their makeshift fire pit.
Arthur watched him silently from where he stood next to Hengroen, brushing the horse down with slow, steady strokes. This was the first outing he'd been on with Merlin since his magic was revealed, and he couldn't help the sense of… wrongness he felt seeing the servant complete such mundane tasks. Merlin didn't seem to have a care in the world, chatting amiably with Percival as he painstakingly arranged the rocks in a perfectly-sized circle in the middle of the bedrolls.
Serving Arthur and the Knights on patrols and quests was nothing new to Merlin, but Arthur couldn't help but feel tasks such as fetching water, building a fire, or cooking meals were beneath the warlock. He supposedly was the "most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth" and he still cleaned pots? Surely his talents would be better utilized elsewhere.
Arthur hadn't brought up the subject yet, mostly because he didn't know what to say. Merlin seemed perfectly content to do his job, especially recently. These past three weeks he'd been in that same happy-go-lucky mood he used to always be in his first year in Camelot. It was obvious a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders since his magic was revealed. Arthur hadn't noticed just how reserved and distant Merlin had become over the years until he saw the stark difference before him now.
Even if Arthur wanted to elevate Merlin's station, there would be no way to explain such an action to the council. They had no idea about Merlin's magic or what he'd done to protect Camelot. And Arthur and Merlin had both decided it would be best to keep the magic a secret from the general public until after the ban was officially repealed, that way no one would accuse Merlin of enchanting the king.
Arthur yearned for the day when Merlin could sit at his right-hand where he belonged, as his most trusted advisor. He already did the job; he just wasn't getting paid or recognized publicly for it. Hopefully he would actually accept a promotion when the time came. Arthur was well aware of Merlin's aversion to titles and his lack of respect for nobility.
When Gwaine, Elyan, and Leon finally came crashing back into the clearing with no regard for stealth, Arthur realized he'd been brushing the same spot on Hengroen for the past fifteen minutes. He shook his head and put the brush back in the saddlebag, going over to join the rest of his men.
Leon dropped his kindling in the fire pit, and Merlin automatically pulled out a piece of flint. Everyone else sat down on their respective bedrolls, Gwaine and Elyan getting to work on skinning the rabbits they'd caught. Arthur watched his servant struggle to light the wood for a bit before eventually rolling his eyes and nudging him with his boot.
"Just use magic," he told him, proud when he managed to say the words evenly. It would be a while yet before he felt comfortable around sorcery. He trusted Merlin with his life, but he couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine whenever he saw glowing gold eyes.
Merlin turned on his heel sharply from his crouched position, his grip on the flint loosening as he stared at Arthur in shock. "What?"
Arthur waved his fingers demonstratively. "Magic, Merlin. Fire. Sometime tonight, preferably." He leaned back on his hands, trying to appear casual about the subject.
Merlin glanced down at the flint, then around the group of Knights. Everyone was already looking at him expectantly, waiting to see him perform magic for the first time since they'd found out about it. He seemed to internally debate whether or not Arthur was serious about the suggestion, like he half expected to whisper a single spell and immediately be clapped in chains. Arthur felt guilt wash over him at the realization that Merlin was still afraid to show his true abilities, no matter how happy he seemed on the outside or how many times Arthur reassured him he wasn't going to throw him in the dungeons.
Arthur leaned forward and loosely wrapped his arms around his knees, capturing Merlin's anxious gaze. "I want to see your magic. Please," he implored in his most non-threatening tone.
Merlin stared back at him, his expression morphing from apprehensive to relieved to slightly proud, and the next thing Arthur knew, the servant's eyes were flaring gold without a single word or even a flick of his finger, his gaze still trained on the king. The Knights flinched when the fire roared to life next to them, but Arthur merely smiled.
Merlin bit his lip to fight back his own grin, and sidled over to sit next to Arthur, tucking the flint back into his bag. "I can put up some wards, too," he offered eagerly. "They would protect us from anyone who meant us harm and warn us if anyone got too close. That way no one would have to keep watch and we could all rest." He looked so hopeful, and Arthur knew automatically that if he were to decline, Merlin would take it as a sign that Arthur didn't trust him and probably would never make such an offer again. Arthur hated the idea of not having anyone on watch, but this was a great opportunity to show Merlin that he had faith in him and his magic.
"Are you saying we could've all been getting a full night's rest this entire time?" Arthur questioned.
Merlin heard the agreement for what it was, and he was beaming as he replied cheekily, "Aren't you glad you brought me along, Sire?" He hopped to his feet, striding over to the edge of their camp. Arthur and the Knights watched as he held out his hands and moved them in an arc over his head, then back down again. They could just catch his low murmurs of the Old Tongue, but none of them would've been able to tell what he was saying even if he was shouting directly into their ears. A golden shield shimmered up from the ground all around the camp, climbing through the air until it all connected above them. Once Merlin stopped chanting, the golden light faded until nothing could be seen at all. They wouldn't have even known the shield was there if they hadn't seen him cast it into existence.
Leon gaped as he stared upward, and Gwaine laughed with delight. "That's what I'm talking about, Merls!" He complimented as he roasted the rabbits over the fire.
"And that'll hold all night?" Percival asked, awestruck at the display.
Merlin nodded as he returned to his bedroll next to Arthur's. "I anchored it to the earth, so I don't need to focus on keeping it up. The only way it would come down now is if I died," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. Arthur grimaced at the casual reference to his friend's death, but luckily Elyan distracted him from the thought.
"Can we leave the boundary or are we trapped inside?" He wondered, a tad uneasy at the idea that he was stuck.
"Oh, you can leave," Merlin assured him. "We can all exit and enter as we please. It's only those who would wish us harm that can't pass through the shield, nor can their weapons."
"Handy," Leon commented.
"There's a lot of ways magic can be useful," Merlin responded quietly, picking at the grass.
Arthur was glad that he was finally witnessing the benefits of sorcery, but he hoped Merlin knew it was more than just his magic that made him useful. It was Merlin's friendship that had brought most of them together.
"I suppose you'll just have to show us," Arthur remarked, the corner of his mouth lifting as he reached up to ruffle Merlin's hair. The servant grumbled and swatted him away, but the grin never left his face.
-XXX-
-XXX-
Later that night, when the fire had turned to embers and the Knights were all fast asleep, exhausted from the days they'd spent traveling, the king and his servant lay in their respective bedrolls and stared up at the starry sky, both too anxious to sleep. Neither had said a word since dinner, but the silence was familiar and comfortable, so Merlin startled slightly when Arthur finally broke it.
"You know I'm not planning for you to fight Morgause, right? If it's really her," he said quietly, not turning his head. Merlin could see his fingers tapping rapidly against his stomach, and he wondered how long Arthur had been wanting to speak.
Merlin sighed, and it seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet. "I'm the only one who has the power to stop her," he insisted with resignation rather than any sort of arrogance.
It was another minute before Arthur replied, his words tentative. "Then why haven't you? Based on all you've told me, you've had plenty of opportunities in the past," he pointed out carefully.
Merlin smiled ruefully. That was certainly a question he'd asked himself a great many times over the years. With all the power at his disposal, he could've ended Morgause long ago, and Camelot would be free of one more bloodthirsty sorcerer. It seemed like a simple decision from an outside perspective.
He shrugged, his shoulders dragging along his bedroll uncomfortably. "I guess I haven't been able to give up the hope that she'll change one day," he admitted. "If she could just see what a great king you are and will be…" There was also the fact that she was Morgana's sister, and he was afraid if he killed her, Morgana would turn away from them forever. But he figured bringing up Morgana would only upset Arthur, so he kept that bit to himself.
Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek. "You still think I'm a good king?" His tone was relieved but held a genuine hint of remorse and confusion.
Merlin frowned and turned his head to the side, his gaze skirting over Arthur's tense features. "I know it, Arthur," he claimed determinedly.
"But it's been almost a month since I found out about your magic, and all I've managed to do is scrape together a couple dozen dusty, old books on law and pre-Purge governing practices. And you're still in hiding," he protested, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
Merlin sat up and rested his weight on one elbow, poking Arthur in the side. "Which is much more than Uther would've ever done." He tried not to infuse the dead tyrant's name with too much vitriol, out of respect for Arthur, but he's not sure he quite pulled it off. "This kind of thing takes time. Better to do it properly than rush through it and end up with an unhappy council and kingdom. People aren't comfortable around sorcery, and that won't change by declaring magic free again on a whim," he advised. That was part of the reason why Morgause's efforts were always doomed to fail; she wanted to force the people of Camelot to bend to her will and accept magic again with open arms, but it wasn't that simple. Everyone would have to re-learn their way of thinking. Nearly thirty years of hearing about the evils of sorcery would be difficult to erase.
Arthur nodded, but he didn't look at all happy about it. "I know," he murmured, his gaze flicking over to meet Merlin's. "I just wish you could be yourself without worrying about how everyone else will react."
Merlin smiled softly, flopping onto his back again and closing his eyes. "I can be myself around you. As long as that's true, I've got nothing to worry about," he stated blithely.
"Sometimes I question your sense of self-preservation," Arthur muttered, but Merlin could hear the fondness in his voice.
"It almost sounds like you care," Merlin teased.
"Better get your ears checked, then."
-XXX-
-XXX-
Merlin was pulled out of a fitful sleep by an unfamiliar voice echoing in his head.
Emrys.
Merlin scowled, rubbing his eyes tiredly and glancing around. Arthur and the Knights were all asleep, and it was still dark out. It certainly wasn't a time for socializing, and he cursed internally at the Druids' complete lack of courtesy.
Emrys, the voice repeated, and Merlin waved his hand dismissively, even though no one was around to see.
Yes, yes, alright. Just give me a moment, he grumbled, using mind-speak as well since he didn't want to wake his companions. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, wary of stepping on any twigs. The fire had burned out some time ago, so the moonlight was the only thing guiding his path between the bedrolls and to the forest beyond. His shield shimmered briefly as he passed through it, sending a rush of warmth through his muscles. The magic clung to him, wanting to return to where it belonged, but he silently commanded it to stay in place and protect his friends. Hopefully he wouldn't be gone long, but he wasn't going to leave them defenseless while he was away.
Once he was a safe distance from the camp, he created a ball of light above his head so he could see his surroundings more clearly beneath the thick canopy of leaves. His magic led him in the direction the Druids were waiting, drawn to their magic in a way he couldn't explain. He never usually sought them out, but he'd probably be able to find them anywhere in Camelot, as long as they were willing to be found. Now their presence was like a beacon, calling him closer and closer.
When five cloaked figures finally came into view, Merlin slowed to a stop. He sent out an instinctive burst of magic, which told him that they were the only Druids nearby. It was rare for Druids to separate from their clans. Whatever they had to say must've been important for them to venture this far out by themselves. All five Druids knelt down on one knee, but it was the man in front that lowered his hood and spoke.
"Lord Emrys, we are sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, but we have information you might find useful," he declared. His head was bowed, so Merlin couldn't see his face, but he could tell he was young, possibly younger than himself. He sounded much too eager to please, and Merlin held back an irritated sigh at all the dramatics. He was no king, and he certainly didn't deserve to be treated like one.
"Please, all of you, stand," he pleaded uncomfortably. The Druids shared unsure glances, but reluctantly rose to their feet. Merlin approached the leader, giving him a weary but sincere smile. "What's your name?" He asked gently.
"Harlan, my lord."
Merlin figured arguing the title would waste time, so he moved on to the topic at hand. "Harlan, does the information you bring have anything to do with the recent raids along the border villages?" He guessed.
Harlan nodded solemnly. "There have been…many casualties, my lord. Your arrival is a blessing." The others behind him murmured in agreement, and Merlin frowned at the news.
"It's Morgause, isn't it?" He spoke the question like a statement, already knowing the answer based on their collective wince.
"She hasn't shown her face, but we recognize her magic. It is dark and twisted, a curse upon this land," Harlan replied bitterly. He didn't present the same level of calm that most Druids Merlin met did, which most likely had to do with his young age. "She hasn't just been raiding the villages, my lord. She's left the stain of her magic behind. The crops are dying, the plants wilting. The creeks are drying up and the animals are succumbing to sudden illness. My clan has tried to help, but our magic isn't strong enough. Please, Emrys, you must do something," Harlan begged.
Merlin swallowed his growing rage, not wanting Harlan to believe it was directed at him. He knew Morgause would be back one day—she was too hell-bent on taking the throne to stay away forever—but her complete disregard for the land and the innocents that resided upon it was deplorable. High Priestesses were never meant to use such dark magic. They were supposed to be keepers of the balance. Morgause was spitting on her own legacy, and all for a pointless agenda. He would never let her within touching distance of Arthur's throne again.
"Do you know where she is?" He growled, flexing his fingers as his magic sparked along his palms. He'd tried to show her mercy in the past, but obviously there was only one way to make sure Morgause was no longer a problem. He'd just have to hope that Morgana forgave him.
Harlan bowed his head apologetically. "We do not, my lord. She's covered her tracks well." He hesitated, then took a careful step forward, placing his hand lightly upon Merlin's shoulder. Invisible strands of their magic automatically wove together in a delicate dance, testing each other's strengths and weaknesses; Merlin felt calmer at the touch, which was most likely the Druid's intention. Harlan shuddered almost imperceptibly at the odd—though not unpleasant—feeling, but continued without mentioning it. "You must be wary, Emrys. We fear this is not a trap for Arthur, but for you," Harlan cautioned.
Merlin's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Harlan dropped his hand, folding it back into the sleeves of his cloak. "Only you have the power to heal the land. Morgause knows this. It is likely she's trying to draw you out," he suggested, deeply concerned at the idea. The nervous shuffling of his companions spoke silently of their agreement.
Merlin couldn't suppress a derisive snort. "She knows better than to challenge me face to face. Unless she has a death wish, of course," he remarked blandly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a bone-deep exhaustion overcame him. He didn't want to fight anyone. He'd never thought of his power as one used to battle his enemies. He much preferred using it for mundane, useful tasks or for fun. Merlin was proud of his job protecting Arthur and Camelot, but he couldn't deny the hardships that came along with it. He'd killed so many people, and lost so many others. Part of him was afraid of turning just as dark and twisted as Morgause. It was a slippery slope, he knew that much. He wasn't sure where he'd be today without his friends, but he definitely didn't think himself immune to the possibility of ending up like every other vengeful sorcerer out there.
Harlan thankfully interrupted his dreary thoughts before he got too carried away. "Morgause is cunning, Emrys. You may outmatch her in raw power, but she always has a plan in place," Harlan reminded him. Merlin knew all too well of Morgause's deceptive nature. She'd almost pushed Arthur into killing his own father, then managed to crawl her way into Morgana's good graces, not to mention allying herself with Cenred and then Agravaine. She had many tricks up her sleeve. It was one of the reasons she was still alive.
"I'll be careful," Merlin promised, hoping to soothe the young Druid's worry. In all honesty, he didn't know what to expect over the coming days. Whatever happened, he'd deal with it, just like always. Maybe now that Arthur and the Knights were there to watch his back, everything would be easier.
Or maybe even more difficult, he countered, wincing internally. After all, he wouldn't only be protecting himself this time. He'd have to make sure the others were safe as well… Gods, we're screwed.
We'll leave you to your mission, Lord Emrys, Harlan said with a low bow, reverting to mind-speak. The others echoed the action. If you ever have need of us we will be more than happy to help. He turned, leading the others back into the shadows, then paused and tossed a tiny, amused smirk over his shoulder. By the way, our King Arthur has been eavesdropping from behind that tree, he added, then followed after the other Druids until they all melted into the darkness.
Merlin rolled his eyes and spun around to confront the secret observer. "Really, Arthur? Hiding behind a tree? I thought you were better than that," he chided teasingly, barely containing a snicker as a red-faced Arthur stepped out into the open, crossing his arms with a defiant scowl.
"You're the one that snuck off in the middle of the night! I thought you were done with this kind of stuff," he stated, and Merlin didn't think he imagined the layer of hurt underneath the defensive tone. It was a sharp reminder that their situation was still so new and that Arthur wasn't used to seeing the magical side of his manservant.
Merlin's amused smile faded and he hunched guiltily. "I'm sorry, Arthur. It wasn't my intention to be secretive. I guess I'm just used to dealing with magical problems by myself," he apologized, shuffling over to his king.
Arthur remained stoic for only a few more seconds before releasing a heavy sigh full of exasperation. "Are midnight rendezvous common between you and the Druids?" He questioned with mild irritation, though Merlin could tell he was truly curious.
"Not really, unless there's something important to discuss," Merlin answered with a shrug, relaxing now that Arthur didn't seem angry. Everything had been going so well between them the last few weeks, save a few awkward moments when Arthur caught him doing magic. He'd hate to have screwed up their relatively fragile peace already.
"Like Morgause?" Arthur drawled, raising an eyebrow.
Merlin huffed indignantly. "Exactly how long were you listening, you prat?" He complained, and Arthur's next words confirmed his dread.
"Long enough, your lordship." He bowed mockingly, his eyes lighting up with mirth when Merlin groaned in embarrassment.
"I've tried to get them to stop, but they're annoyingly insistent," Merlin grumbled.
"They obviously don't know what a clumsy idiot you are, or they'd have never even considered the title." Arthur grinned, marching forward and ruffling Merlin's hair as he passed by, heading back toward the camp. Merlin hastened to follow, elbowing Arthur in the side in retaliation.
"If you could share that bit of information with them, I'd be eternally grateful. I'm not a fan of the whole bow-and-worship routine. I don't know how you can stand it." He shivered dramatically.
Arthur laughed at the plain disgust written across Merlin's face. "It's my royal upbringing. My father always said I should demand respect from those of a lesser status," he replied with an eye roll.
"Glad to disabuse you of such ridiculous notions," Merlin chirped, earning a shove which he accepted gracefully.
Silence reigned for the next few minutes of their trip. They ambled along at a leisurely pace, in no rush to get back to camp. It's not like they'd get any more sleep, anyway. Merlin hoped the others hadn't woken up as well. He really didn't want to have to answer a bunch of questions.
"Maybe you should go home, Merlin."
The soft-spoken words carried the force of a lance through the chest, and Merlin halted in his tracks, Arthur reluctantly stopping as well.
"What?" Merlin demanded, furious at the mere suggestion.
Arthur sighed, settling in for a battle of wills. "You heard that Druid. Morgause is setting a trap for you," he pointed out.
"We don't know that for sure," Merlin objected instantly, although he saw no reason it couldn't be true.
Arthur gave him an unimpressed look. "We do. I just think—"
"I'm not going back to Camelot," Merlin cut him off heatedly.
"Merlin, please—"
"No, Arthur! I'm not letting you face her alone! She'd kill you in five seconds flat!" Merlin exclaimed.
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Arthur said sarcastically, but there was resignation in his expression, like he was perfectly aware how mismatched a fight between he and Morgause would be.
Merlin softened, recognizing that Arthur was only trying to protect him. "I won't run from her, Arthur. And I most definitely am not leaving you and the others to fend for yourselves. Whatever she has planned, we'll deal with it together. That's how we do this now, right? No secrets. No running off to battle evil sorceresses by ourselves," he said with a shaky, short-lived laugh.
Arthur muttered something under his breath about insolent servants, but nodded in acquiescence. "I suppose you're right," he agreed half-heartedly, then squinted suspiciously at the warlock. "Why is it starting to feel like you're the one leading this mission?" He frowned.
Merlin pursed his lips, patting Arthur sympathetically on the shoulder as he resumed the trek back to camp. "You'll get used to it, Sire," he insisted sweetly, laughing at Arthur's huffy "I bloody will not!" thrown after him.
-XXX-