Summary

Merlin and Galahad search for meaning behind the three stolen artifacts, and Arthur speaks to Merlin about his revealed duality.

Chapter 47 All That Glitters

Merlin's eyes strained over the ancient text before him, the musty scent of old parchment filling the millhouse's cluttered interior. He and Galahad had transported many such dusty tomes and fragile scrolls here, but unlike their previous searches for dragonlord lore, today they sought any scrap of information about the mysterious items stolen from the royal vault.

This task was crucial. Yet Merlin found his mind continually drifting back to yesterday's revelation. The memory of Arthur's face – a mix of shock, confusion, and wariness – after unveiling both his magic and his identity as Emrys haunted him. The king's averted gaze in the minutes and hours that followed had planted a seed of worry in Merlin's heart. Considering some of the lords' reactions, he couldn't help but wonder: Had Arthur been right? Should they have kept his secret, leaving his identity concealed?

"Merlin!"

He startled, blinking rapidly as Galahad's sharp voice cut through his thoughts. His mentor was staring at him, jaw set in exasperation.

"I said," Galahad repeated, enunciating each word, "Strange items to risk your life for, don't you think?"

Merlin pressed two fingers against his temple, turning a page in the tome before him. "Yes—" He forced his wandering thoughts back to the matter at hand. Even if Arthur's view of him had changed, the stolen artifacts demanded his attention now. "—but Mordred clearly saw value in them."

His eyes traced the delicate lines of three pieces of jewelry sketched on parchment. "So little to go on – just Geoffrey's idea of what he thinks represents the opal brooch, a copper coronet, and a jet pendant. He's not confident of how they were catalogued."

Galahad leaned in, squinting at the drawings. "Nothing about what makes them special, either."

"Not unusual," Merlin replied, frustration coloring his voice. "The crypt houses many such items of unknown origin or purpose." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "But these... what could Mordred possibly want them for?"

"They could be ordinary adornments falsely labeled as magic for all we know."

"Mordred wouldn't risk returning to Camelot for mere trinkets."

"Are we even sure he took the items for himself? He might be acting as a thief for hire."

"It makes sense that he's in league with someone, but it doesn't mean he hasn't learned to use these items himself. The question is – to what end?"

They fell silent. Merlin pondered their limited options when a memory stirred. "What if we're looking in the wrong place? The crystal cave – its visions have guided me before. Perhaps it could shed light on these relics, reveal their true nature!"

"That place?" Galahad scoffed. "It's more likely to addle our brains than give answers. Remember those tales I shared of sorcerers lost in its depths, forever chasing their own reflections?" He tapped the book in front of him firmly. "No, Merlin. Our answers are here, in ink and parchment. We must dig deeper."

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. Galahad's point was valid – legends spoke of the crystal cave's twisting passages entrapping the unwary. But despite the risks, his instincts pulled him towards the cave's mysterious potential. The idea of taking action, of pursuing a lead – however dangerous – was far more appealing than continuing to pore over tomes with little to show for it.

"You may be right..." he conceded slowly, then countered, "But my intuition tells me we must seek answers beyond what meets the eye, not just in these dusty pages."

Galahad stroked his chin, mulling it over. "I'll admit, intuition has its place... and yours has proven sharp before." He cast a sideways glance at Merlin. "Do you truly believe these artifacts hold some deeper magic?"

"It's just a feeling..." Merlin murmured. Mordred – three seemingly innocuous pieces of jewelry – one even made of copper. If Mordred deemed them precious, there must be more to them. He looked at Galahad, nerves prickling. "There's more at play here. We best uncover it soon, before Mordred sets his plot in motion."

Galahad hummed in agreement, leaning back in his chair with a creak. His eyes, however, weren't on the books anymore, but fixed on Merlin with an unreadable expression.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably under the gaze, clearing his throat. "What is it?"

"Speaking of plots in motion, your display yesterday… It was something to behold, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed, anxiety knotting in his stomach. "Too much?" Arthur's initial reaction had surprised him – the averted gaze, the lack of discussion since. He found himself holding his breath, suddenly desperate for his mentor's opinion.

Galahad chuckled. "Not for me. I know what you're capable of, but Arthur, the others..." He clicked his teeth, seeming to choose his next words. "You've shifted the ground beneath all our feet, Merlin. The Crown versus sorcerers? That narrative just became a lot more complicated."

Merlin exhaled, his approach to revealing his identity settling in his gut like a stone weight. "We've only begun to navigate the sorcerers' petition, and now… what I did yesterday…"

Galahad leaned forward, his voice low and serious. "Merlin, Arthur will come around. What's done is done. You showed them your power, yes, but also your loyalty. That counts for something."

Merlin nodded, unconvinced. "But the timing... with everything that's going on, I fear I've made Arthur's position even more precarious."

"Perhaps," Galahad conceded. "You're still forgetting that you've also given him a powerful ally. Openly."

Merlin's gaze drifted to the window, where heavy clouds obscured the sun, casting a dull grey light. "I just hope it's enough." His newfound openness was more troubling than he'd anticipated. For years, he'd hidden his magic, using it covertly to protect Arthur and Camelot – his power subdued, untapped, but ever-present. Now, with his abilities revealed, he stood as a formidable force – a potential weapon. The thought both exhilarated and terrified him.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the magic pulse beneath his skin. How much should he hold back? The lords' angry voices flared in his memory, Arthur's confusion and unease palpable. Perhaps it would be wise to temper his displays of power, to ease their fears and Arthur's concerns. Yet if danger threatened, could he afford such restraint?

Merlin sighed, his mind turning to the myriad tasks before him. The sorcerers' petition for autonomy needed careful wording – a delicate balance between asserting their rights and assuaging the concerns of those who still mistrusted magic. Then there were the dragons: Aithusa's welfare and Kilgharrah's trust to regain. But always, always, the safety of Arthur and Gwen remained his paramount duty.

And now, these stolen trinkets. Whatever power they held, whatever Mordred planned to do with them, could upset everything he'd worked so hard to achieve. As selfish as it felt to admit, his life was everything he could have ever dreamed of – and he dreaded losing it. Merlin took a deep breath, centering himself. Despite all the responsibilities, this mystery demanded his immediate attention. Arthur was expecting answers tonight at dinner, and right now, he had few to give.

The pressure of the impending deadline spurred a new thought. He turned back to Galahad, hope glimmering in his eyes. "Master Iseldir has an audience with Arthur tomorrow. Do you think we should present this puzzle to him?"

Galahad nodded, humming in agreement. "A wise thought. And what of Master Alator? Perhaps we should seek his counsel as well. As a candidate to assist in writing the sorcerers' proposal, I believe he could lend his expertise to solving the mystery of these items."

Merlin's brow furrowed in consideration. Involving the druid elder and the Catha priest could provide valuable insights on multiple fronts. Iseldir might shed light on Mordred's recent activities and his reasons for leaving their grove, while Alator's arcane knowledge could potentially accelerate their understanding of the artifacts. However, it also meant widening the circle of those privy to the theft. He weighed the benefits against the risks, knowing time was of the essence. The faster they unraveled this mystery, the better their chances of thwarting Mordred's plans, whatever they might be.

Merlin stood next to Arthur and Gwen in the royal chambers, his gaze drawn to the tome spread on the table before them. He gingerly traced the outline of an intricately detailed drawing of an opal brooch, its surface shimmering with iridescent hues even in the faded ink. Delicate filigree work framed the stone on the page, arcane symbols inscribed along its edges. "This was the only piece we've been able to identify."

"This 'Destiny Stone,' you say it reveals... destinies?" Arthur prompted, arms crossed as he peered down at the cracked pages of the open book, his expression taut with questions.

Merlin nodded, mirroring Arthur's stance. "The 'destiny of a soul', to use the exact phrasing." He shrugged when they glanced at him, confusion on their faces. "Its general purpose seems benign, as far as we can deduce, but with ancient magical artifacts, one can never be too sure."

Gwen moved Geoffrey's etching of the brooch next to the tome's faded image, comparing them as embers snapped in the fireplace, filling the silence. She looked up at Merlin. "These symbols, what are they? Some kind of script?"

Merlin frowned, scanning the text. "It's obscure – a passage about the jewelry's... transformation, I believe. It mentions 'the heart of iron blood awakened by Vulcan's breath.' There's also something about 'Janus guarding its true face.'" He sighed. "Is it metaphorical, or..." He shook his head.

Gwen's brow furrowed in thought. "Vulcan... the smith god? Could it be referring to forging? Perhaps the brooch needs to be reshaped in flames."

"Galahad had a similar theory," Merlin replied, his mind racing.

"And Janus?" Arthur asked. "The two-faced god... does the brooch have another nature hidden from view?"

"That might explain the role of the other two pieces of jewelry," Merlin proposed. "They could be instrumental in reshaping it, revealing its true nature."

Arthur nodded, his expression pensive. "It would explain why Mordred took all three. But why?" He turned to Merlin, his gaze intense, his voice low and urgent. "Does the text say anything else about this Destiny Stone's powers?"

Merlin indicated another corner of the page, where the icons were worn beyond recognition. "All we can decipher is 'knowledge' and 'one whose fate.' I'm sorry, Arthur. It's frustratingly vague."

After a tense moment of exchanged glances, Gwen lifted the parchment with the sketches of the missing items. "The circlet or pendant – no further leads?"

Merlin rubbed his brow, frustration evident in his voice. "None yet. But we're far from giving up."

Arthur began pacing, his blue linen shirt whispering gently as he turned. "I don't know, Merlin. Mordred slithered back into Camelot to snatch up these 'precious' trinkets. Our lack of information makes this all the more troubling."

Merlin tracked Arthur's slow pace across the stone floor, his mind racing for solutions. After a moment's hesitation, he ventured, "Sire, Galahad and I believe we might benefit from outside expertise. We'd like to consult Masters Iseldir and Alator to help piece together meaning."

Arthur's expression shifted as he stopped pacing, concern crossing his face. "Iseldir and Alator...? Sorcerers? You trust these men? Involving more people in this..."

"I share your concerns, sire." Merlin's lips thinned, his gaze momentarily dropping to the floor before meeting the king's eyes again. "We'll be discreet. The sorcerers need not know all the details, just enough to aid our research."

Gwen stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Arthur's arm. "Perhaps we should give them the time they need, Arthur. Rushing might lead us to overlook something crucial."

Arthur studied him for a moment, then gave a short nod. "Very well. But tread carefully, Merlin. The fewer who know about these artifacts, the better. And I want daily reports. Any new information, no matter how small, comes directly to me. Understood?"

"Of course, sire," Merlin agreed, pushing aside the sting of Arthur's earlier words. Relief colored his voice, but beneath it, a sense of urgency persisted. As he gathered the book and parchment to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were racing against an unseen clock. Mordred's motivations remained a mystery, but with the masters' help, Merlin was confident they'd unravel the puzzle soon. He just hoped it would be soon enough.

"Merlin," Arthur called before he reached the door.

Merlin turned, the ancient tome tucked under his arm. He watched Arthur's face, noting the shadow of emotions – uncertainty, respect, and a hint of what looked like remorse. Arthur glanced at Gwen, who nodded encouragingly, before he met Merlin's eyes again.

"About yesterday," Arthur began, his voice low. Merlin stood silently, heart pounding as he waited for Arthur to continue the conversation he'd both longed for and dreaded. "I... I was caught off guard. Your power, your identity as Emrys... it's a lot to process."

Merlin swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to speak, to reassure Arthur, but the words eluded him. The air in the room seemed to thicken, and Merlin felt his chest constrict, unsure whether to brace for reproach or hope for understanding. Instead, he nodded slightly, encouraging Arthur to continue.

"I've known you as my servant, my friend, for so long," Arthur said. "To see you standing there, commanding such magic..." He shook his head, and Merlin could almost see him struggling to reconcile the bumbling servant with the powerful sorcerer he'd witnessed. "Merlin, truly, I thought I was prepared."

Merlin's chest tightened at Arthur's words. He watched his king's face, noting the furrowed brow and the slight tension in his jaw – telltale signs of Arthur's internal struggle. The servant and the sorcerer, two sides of the same coin, now laid bare before the world. Arthur's admission of being overwhelmed, despite his attempts at preparation, sent a pang through Merlin's heart.

With all his complexities, his magic and the legendary status he'd never asked for, he was still just Merlin at his core. But he realized now how shocking it must have been for Arthur to see the full extent of his abilities, to glimpse the Emrys that some in the magical world revered and others feared. The bumbling servant and the prophesied Emrys were both genuine parts of who he was. Yet what mattered most in this moment was helping Arthur see that beneath it all, he was still the same Merlin who had stood by his side all these years.

And power would not change him, at least not in the ways Arthur might fear. He'd had that power all his life and knew how to restrain himself. Like all men, there was a darkness within him – a capacity for ruthlessness, deeply buried secrets that would never see the light of day. He'd learned to control these aspects of himself, to channel them when necessary, but mostly keeping them in check. His magic and his servitude were both integral parts of who he was, as were those hidden depths.

Merlin took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I'm still me, Arthur," he said softly, simply, hoping his voice didn't betray his nervousness. "Emrys… the magic... it's always been a part of who I am. It doesn't change who I've been to you, or my loyalty to Camelot."

"I know," Arthur replied quickly, to Merlin's relief. "That's what I'm trying to say. My reaction... it wasn't fair to you. Your loyalty has never wavered, even when it would have been easier for you to turn away. I should have remembered that."

Arthur stepped closer, his blue eyes locking onto Merlin's with an intensity that reflected years of shared trials and triumphs. The air between them seemed to still, heavy with the weight of their responsibilities and intertwined destiny.

"I want you to know that my trust in you hasn't changed," Arthur continued. "If anything, it's stronger. In a moment of weakness, I... I forgot who you truly are."

A smile tugged at Merlin's lips, his heart lightening despite the burdens still upon his shoulders. For Arthur to admit vulnerability was rare, a testament to the depth of their friendship and the importance of the moment. It was as if a fortress gate had opened, revealing how far they'd come and the path that stretched before them.

"Thank you, Arthur. That means more than you know."

Arthur nodded, a small smile forming as he clasped Merlin's shoulder. "We're in this together, Merlin. The road ahead is... complex, beset with challenges. I'm glad to have you by my side."

Arthur's words stirred emotions Merlin had long harbored but rarely expressed. The knot of anxiety that had been twisting in his gut since yesterday's revelation began to unravel, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest. He met Arthur's gaze, feeling a surge of loyalty and resolve that reaffirmed his purpose. His face flushed, and he knew his expression must be betraying the relief and determination coursing through him.

"Always," Merlin replied, his voice steady but laden with meaning.

As he left the chamber, each step felt lighter than the last. The kingdom teetered on the brink of upheaval on several fronts, but Arthur's trust – tested yet unbroken – provided a steadfast anchor amidst the sea of uncertainty. He strode forward with renewed purpose, his magic humming beneath his skin like a familiar melody.

The challenges ahead loomed large in his mind: unraveling the mystery of the stolen artifacts, navigating the delicate politics of magic in Camelot, and facing whatever schemes Mordred had set in motion. Yet, for the first time since revealing his true nature, Merlin felt a sense of hope and unity.

He knew the path forward would not be easy. There would be resistance from those who feared magic, mistrust from those who felt betrayed by his secrecy, and the ever-present threat of those who would use magic for nefarious purposes. But now, with Arthur fully aware of his abilities and standing firmly by his side, Merlin felt better equipped to face these challenges head-on.

As he descended the castle stairs, his mind was already racing with plans. Tomorrow, he would meet with Galahad to discuss their next steps in researching the artifacts. They would need to approach Iseldir and Alator carefully, seeking their wisdom without revealing too much. And all the while, he would need to remain vigilant, watching for any sign of Mordred's return or the activation of the stolen items.

But beneath all these swirling thoughts and plans, a simple truth resonated within him: he and Arthur stood united, their bond stronger than ever. Whatever trials the fates might hurl their way, Merlin felt ready to face them, bolstered by the unshakeable trust he shared with his king and friend.

With a determined set to his shoulders and a glimmer of hope in his eyes, Merlin crossed the courtyard. The sun had already set, but to him, it felt like the dawn of a new era—one in which magic and loyalty, power and friendship, could coexist in harmony. And he was ready to help shape that future, standing proudly as both Merlin and Emrys, servant and sorcerer, friend and protector to the Once and Future King.