This chapter is dedicated to MerthurRules, who wanted to see Arthur start to question how his father runs things around here. Wanted to see Arthur starting to realize commoners might not be as useless as he was always told, and that true nobility doesn't always mean what bloodline you carry inside.

X

Merlin Pendragon fully understood what the safest course of action for him to take was. He should have stayed right where he was, within the safe confides of his uncle's home, where nobody would think to accost him. As soon as the bells started to ring, signaling the return of Arthur and Lancelot to the castle, he should have gone upstairs to his room and curl himself up on the softer bit of floor he could find, considering Gwen was currently occupying his bed right now. He should have pretended he had been there all night, sleeping the hours away while letting the fighters worry about securing the safety of the castle or seeing to the destruction of the griffin. With Gaius to back him up, and as long as Lancelot didn't say a word, Merlin would have had a good alibi being placed properly. Merlin rarely ever thought about his own safety, though he definitely deserved to take the night to recuperate after the stunning feat of magic he'd done. Magic he couldn't have accomplished if Lancelot hadn't been there and directing the weapon into place.

It had been a two person job, that was for sure.

And that was why Merlin was currently doing something even he knew was a stupid idea.

Merlin was speed-walking down the hallways of the castle, heading toward the throne room where he assumed everybody was going to meet. But his insides were twisting with nerves the whole journey there, uncertainty roiling through him about what he would find when he got there. The possibilities were quite endless, and each one worse than the last. Lancelot could very well be placed in chains right now, Uther's arrogance blinding him towards the asset Lancelot was for the kingdom to have. Arthur could be the one holding the chains, since he was willing to follow his father's orders even to his death. Uther could have already killed Lancelot, refusing to allow his soldiers to be shown up by a man like Lancelot. Merlin refused to believe in the good scenarios that may've been happening inside, having already seen too much to hope either Uther or Arthur would overlook Lancelot's heritage for the bigger picture. For all he knew, he'd see nothing but carnage and blood—just like the field of dead knights who he knew were going to be featured in his neck nightmare—waiting for him once he got there.

But, as Gaius had told him… Merlin was strong.

He could handle whatever he saw when he got there.

He could handle… more than he thought possible.

And he had a dead griffin to prove it.

Merlin just hoped he wouldn't throw up on his shoes before he got there and checked out what the verdict was.

But when Merlin finally arrived in the grand hallway, he could see there'd been nothing to worry about. At least nothing for Merlin to immediately worry about. Lancelot was standing right there in front of the grand doors, his armor ruined with scrapes of dirt and splashes of blood that Merlin really hoped belonged to the griffin. But it didn't matter how dirty Lancelot was, or how much blood may be coating his skin, all he could see in front of him was Lancelot. It had scared him more than Merlin thought it had, leaving Lancelot alone with Arthur who's clearly demonstrated time and time again that he had no qualms with beating Lancelot's face into his skull. There had been absolutely no telling how Arthur was going to react to seeing Lancelot standing out there on the fields all battle ready and doing something Arthur himself hadn't been able to do. The prince could have reacted with violence and anger and struck Lancelot down before the man even had a chance to explain what he was doing there. Merlin would not have put it past him, but he hadn't been thinking about that at the time of the event. His only worry was about escaping unseen, but now that everybody was back at the castle, Merlin should be able to get away with explaining how he had been drawn here because of the bells. Didn't he—as consort—deserve to know what was going on?

"Lancelot, thank god you're here! I didn't know what I was going to find when I made it back here. Especially since Uthur's been biased towards you from the start. But at least you are here, and you're standing, which is more than I could say for the other knights. Err..you are okay, aren't you?" Merlin nearly exploded the second he reached Lancelot, the older knight whipping around to face him in surprise. Merlin's question had been the result after seeing Lancelot's face, the way his eyes roamed over Merlin and back again as if he was having some trouble deciding whether or not Merlin was real, before going to something he found unreadable. Merlin bit down on his lip, cataloging the blood, but saw no sign of injuries that indicated Lancelot had been hurt during the attack. Merlin glanced across the hall to where two guards were stationed in front of the big doors—he wondered if the guards would allow him, as consort, to enter those chambers during something clearly private—where he could hear the muffled shouts of Uther screaming. The doors were too thick, and it left him unable to make out anything that was actually being said? "What's going on inside there, Lancelot? Uther's screaming about you, isn't he? Where's Arthur? Is he inside there too? Did he say anything to Uther about you? I swear, Arthur's probably in there telling him all kinds of lies about you or something. Probably pissed at you for showing him up. That is just like Arthur! Trying to get you into trouble when he should be down on his knees and thanking you, considering he'd be dead if you didn't do anything."

Merlin felt as if he was lecturing, but he couldn't stop himself from staring the door down, trying to will them open with a glare alone, and needing to rein his magic down before the spark inside him tried making exactly that happen. The consort could feel Lancelot's stare on him from the side, his gaze carrying this heavy weight to it that would've made Merlin uncomfortable if he wasn't busy with mentally cursing Arthur out. Because honestly, what did somebody have to do in order to force Arthur to swallow his damn pride and admit somebody else had done something good. Arthur hated Merlin, okay, whatever, Merlin's used to that by now. But Lancelot hadn't done anything to deserve the prince trying to turn this whole thing around on him, or whatever Arthur was trying to pull in there. Even the whole fraud and impersonating a noble thing couldn't be said to be Lancelot's fault, which Arthur knew full well considering the time he had the nerve to yell at Merlin about it before all this had happened. If Arthur wanted to take this out on anybody, then he should just stick to his favorite of targets and come after Merlin himself, instead of always targeting Lancelot for one reason or another.

"No, I don't think Arthur needs to be doing that at all, Merlin. He was the one that allowed me out of my cells, it was my decision to go follow them into the woods and involve myself. Just as it was my decision to bring you to fight the griffin with me." Lancelot said, his tone once again odd and his stare on Merlin unwavering. One would think he would be a little bit more concerned about the things going on inside that room, like Merlin was. Releasing Lancelot wouldn't be enough to place Arthur in Merlin's good books, not when Arthur could very well be planning something horrendous to do to Lancelot. This could very well be an entire ploy, even! Maybe Arthur released Lancelot on purpose, because he knew Lancelot well enough to KNOW Lancelot would go running after them all. Maybe he was planning on pinning the deaths of all those other knights on Lancelot, in order to evade whatever trouble the king might have with people dying on his watch. "They've been going at it for quite a while though. It does seem as if they are deciding on exactly what my fate will be. As odd as it does seem, I actually think Arthur is fighting for me. He was… quite enthused about my skills. Talked me up the entire way on the castle, I believe. But I did have… other things on my mind at the time."

Lancelot's continuing to use that odd tone niggled something in the back of Merlin's mind, but it was brushed aside as the consort took a deep breath to try and steady himself. Fighting for him… Lancelot thought Arthur was fighting against his own father for him? The same Prince that wouldn't even stand up to his father and tell him how stupid it was to be going out there to begin with, even after admitting to Merlin how suicidal it was. Merlin would only believe it when he saw it, but… the consort took another breath to temper down all this familiar anger threatening to swallow him whole. He hadn't even had the time to celebrate bringing peace back to the kingdom because of all this, but Merlin had to remember what his uncle had told him… he was completely justified to harbor this anger. He had every reason in the world to accuse Arthur of trying to do the foulest, and most loathsome, of things to Lancelot. But he couldn't allow it to swallow him whole. If Merlin's temper took control of the reins, then it'd give Uther a perfect excuse to do something drastic to Lancelot. Just one more thing Merlin couldn't afford to risk.

He just hoped Lancelot was right.

Maybe Arthur was so impressed by Lancelot's defeat of the beast, that he'd… what? Changed his mind—his entire stance—on what he thought of Lancelot all this time? Just like that? Lancelot destroys one little griffin and that was all the prince needed to forget all about the times he had came after Lancelot as hard and as heavy as he could. Just one little creature slaying, and Arthur suddenly grew a backbone? The very same guy that tried to smash Lancelot's face into his fist because he thought Lancelot was lying to Merlin about who he really is. The very same guy that tried murdering Lancelot in the middle of the markets with a broomstick because he was pissed Lancelot has been sleeping beneath the same roof as Merlin. The very same guy that outed Merlin's real identity to Lancelot just because he wanted to create strife between the two of them.

All that history couldn't just be ignored because Arthur finally 'saw the light' or whatever excuse he was going to use this time.

But, first, there was something Merlin needed to discuss with Lancelot. And he was pretty sure this was the only spot of privacy they were going to get before Arthur came out and decided to do something possessives stupid after seeing Merlin with Lancelot. The consort turned to Lancelot with trepidation all across his face to see Lancelot was already watching him fully, but that didn't quench his nerves. This request of his was going to go one out of two ways, and Merlin could only hope the results wouldn't be disastrous.

"Err… Lancelot, I know that you probably do have a lot on your mind right now, worrying about your future and everything. But I have to worry about my future as well, and it means I've got a bit of a strange request to ask of you. And I am asking you as my friend, too… please don't ask me any questions." Merlin said with an awkward laugh, trying to make light of what could be a very dangerous question. Most people who asked to keep something important a secret didn't always have the best intentions for the kingdom in mind. But Merlin hoped that Lancelot could overlook that, and see how desperate Merlin was beneath how he kept things as light as he could. "But I think you and I both know how much Arthur tends to overreact to, well… everything. He didn't see me tonight when we were in the forest, and I hope, you won't tell him I was there at all. Arthur's going to throw a fit if he knew I wasn't where I was supposed to be again, so it might be easier if we just, kept tonight's adventure… a little secret for the two of us. Don't you think?"

Lancelot was staring down into his eyes as if he was thinking about something hard, and it had Merlin's brows furrowing into the center of his forehead. There was uncertainty twisting around something fierce in Merlin's belly whenever he saw Lancelot glance over his head towards the two knights that were guarding the door. Whatever had Lancelot so conflicted seemed to settle, as the warrior nodded his head to a corner of the room before heading there himself. Merlin rapped his fingers against his side anxiously, glancing over to the men on the wall and then back at Lancelot's retreating back. Why didn't Lancelot agree to keep the secret? Why didn't Lancelot ask a few questions, even, that Merlin'd have to lie through? Why didn't…

Merlin followed, each step filled with trepidation.

X

Arthur Pendragon knew for as long as he lived, he was never going to forget the sight he had woken up to on that battlefield. His men, good men who had done no wrong and had his upmost trust, torn apart and spread out in at least a thousand pieces across the fields. Rips in their armors, flesh torn like butter, blood soaking the grass the same way it would be if it had been the rainwater. And then there had been the griffin, it's wings spread across the dirt behind its back like some sort of fallen demon, more blood soaking beneath it, the tip of a lance the only part Arthur could see from where it was sticking out its mouth in a gruesome fashion. And then he had seen Lancelot straddling the horse he had chosen for him to escape the city on, the moonlight behind him casting an eerie glow behind him. It didn't make Lancelot look like an angel, that would've been absorbed, but it had definitely looked outwardly.

And Arthur had wondered if this is how ordinary people felt whenever a knight pulled them out of the fire and saved their life. This awe that had swelled in his chest until it felt like it was overfilling him, seeing an ordinary man after he had somehow overcame extraordinary odds. Arthur had realized in the last several weeks that he didn't know nearly as much as he thought he had, especially as he discovered each new fact that revealed how much he has failed Merlin with their marriage. But the one thing Arthur knew, gazing up at the man on top of that horse who had saved HIS life, was how right his consort had been. About everything. Merlin had known from the beginning that Lancelot was a man that could be trusted, but Arthur had been holding off trusting Lancelot, even after realizing he wasn't the creep he originally thought he was. Until now. Now, the prince was able to see exactly what Merlin had been talking about all of those times he had tried to defend Lancelot from him.

Arthur was ALIVE because of Lancelot.

He owed that common man his life, just as he owed Merlin.

And it was a debt he fully intended to pay back, one way or another.

"I confess, sire. I went down to the cells before I left to confront the griffin and I released Lancelot on my own orders. He didn't escape or try to evade justice or punishment. In fact, he revealed himself to me even after I specifically told him to leave while he still could." Arthur said, bluntly, laying out what his part in Lancelot's escape had been for his father and the councilmen standing near his father's throne chair to watch the upcoming verbal duel between son and father, Prince and king. "But Lancelot was the one that managed to land a kill blow onto the griffin. Surely under these circumstances we can overlook what past crimes he might've committed. A pardon, of sorts, for the help he's given to Camelot when we've done nothing to deserve it."

It wasn't as if Lancelot was a crook that had been robbing people blind for the last several years and was finally being brought to justice! Lancelot was, as it turned out, a bloody good man! And one of the best knights Arthur had seen in all his years of training the new recruits, and his background did nothing more than make Lancelot seem more impressive than he was before! The man didn't have anything to his name, nothing to back him up, or for him to fall back on if he failed. And yet, Lancelot somehow had more HONOR and STRENGTH in his little finger than half the knights in Camelot combined. Lancelot may not have the blood of a noble, but he held the spirit of a warrior, and that shouldn't go unnoticed. Arthur could've been having his stomach eaten out right this very second if Lancelot hadn't shown his bravery and defied Arthur… the way that Merlin had always defied him. And maybe they needed to. Maybe Arthur had to be defied for him to understand the different shades of gray there were in this world, so unlike the blunt shades of black and white his father had taught him the world was made out of.

"Honestly, Arthur, you seriously think that this conman man was able to kill off a creature as powerful as this one was? You honestly think that TRAITOR, has the skills necessary to pull off such a feat? When even you, yourself, ended up bested by it?" Uther demanded, a cruel sneer on his lips as he delivered such a snide comment meant to infect Arthur's confidence. His father questioning his skills would have had him shrinking in on himself, but not this time. Arthur hadn't been strong enough, but it hardly meant somebody else like Lancelot wasn't. And that wasn't something Arthur needed to be ashamed of. His own consort wasn't weak enough to crumble no matter how many times he'd been beaten, why should Arthur allow something like this to break him? "Besides, I do believe our resident physician, your consort's very own uncle, explained to us already that only magic could destroy this creature! Are you going to start telling me this traitor you want rewarded for his lies, has got magic and could do something like that?"

Arthur clenched his hands tightly into fists on either side of him, stubbornness pumping through his veins as if it was a physical force egging him on. How the king could stand there and speak to Arthur like that, he didn't know! Uther had been so bloody adamant that Gaius was wrong or just being paranoid, that the griffin could be destroyed with simple swords instead of the dart arts. But the second Uther found out Lancelot had a hand in defeating it, suddenly Merlin's uncle had been speaking the truth! His father absolutely REFUSED to believe a common man had the skills necessary to wield a sword properly, that the only possible explanation could be that Lancelot had done something unnatural in order to come out victorious. Lancelot DESERVED the credit that the king was refusing to offer, and Lancelot DESERVED to be rewarded for defying Arthur's orders, and he DESERVED everything for the way he stood beside his consort when Arthur had tried so hard to turn him against him. Arthur hadn't deserved to be saved tonight, he had been willing to die to keep Merlin safe from him, or what he could do to him. But Arthur was still alive for a reason, and maybe this was that reason. To finally do something good for once in his twenty years of life!

"Lancelot was able to aim his lance directly into the mouth of the griffin, and it was clearly the creature's vulnerable spot! Its wings were made by a material that is as hard as metal and cannot be pierced by ordinary weaponry! My best guess is that the same were not said for its insides." Arthur said in a quick and concise tone, not giving Uther the chance to make anymore excuses. Lancelot was a bloody hero, and Arthur would make sure everybody knew it if he had to do it! Arthur had already backed down once when he tried to defend Lancelot from his father—that very short period after realizing Merlin had been aware of Lancelot's lies, and realizing Lancelot's only crime had been born of a rank far lower than the rest of his men—but not this time. If Lancelot could run down a ten ton magical creature with nothing more than a horse and a jousting lance, then he could stand up to his father and MAKE HIM see reason. "The griffin's insides were probably soft and squishy, the same way a human's skin differs in a different manner from our own insides. Lancelot didn't need magic to win in a battle with it, he simply needed to be smarter than it was protected."

Perhaps that was why Lancelot would make such a good warrior, and why he'd be an even better knight. Because Lancelot knew enough to know his winning a fight didn't rely on him being bigger or stronger or faster than whatever the opponent he was facing was. Lancelot only needed to be smarter than what he was facing. Lancelot had proven that fact many days ago when he had battled Arthur during his final testing, and pretended to be unconscious so that Arthur would let down his guard. And he had proven that tonight by managing to get his lance somewhere nobody else in his platoon had thought to try. There were plenty of Arthur's own men who could stand to learn a lesson like that. Hell, he himself had even needed to adjust how he fought whenever he was fighting an opponent bigger than him in the past. The principle was the exact same thing, rather one was fighting another knight in or a tourney, or against a griffin that couldn't be stopped. One well aimed blow, as his father had always told him, is able to knock down even the fiercest of men. Why should magical beasts be of any difference?

"Be that as it may, nothing that this man has done tonight changes what he's gone and done in the week he's been in my kingdom. He's LIED, to not only me but you as well, and yet you stand there and defend him as if you've forgotten about it already! He impersonated a noble family, and tried stealing their name as his own in order to get attention he otherwise wouldn't have gotten! Not to mention, I am still waiting to hear the name of the OTHER traitor, that managed to make him that forgery!" Uther bellowed in a show of clear dominance, but it only caused Arthur to grit his teeth with enough force that he felt as if he may shatter them from the strain he put them under. The list of crimes being laid in front of made EVERYTHING different, because it only showed Arthur just how desperate Lancelot had been to become one of his men. It only showed Arthur how fucked up he had been to MERLIN had been, because the consort had not came to him to help with this. Arthur probably would've nipped this plan in the bud if he knew about it any earlier than he did now, simply because of how his father's ire would've been focused on Merlin. Even now, Uther's ire seemed to be focused on Merlin, as Arthur once again defied his father by not admitting he already knew the forger had been done by his own consort. "I don't see for one second, how you can continue standing there and tell me that this man is different from any other peasant out there! A liar, and a cheater! He broke the sacred code of Camelot! And has shown nothing to prove to me that he's even remorseful for it!"

Arthur could feel a sharp spike in his temper, a boiling underneath his skin that said he was two seconds away from blowing his top. He had felt this plenty of times during his relationship with Merlin, moments where he felt overpowered by the anger inside of him. But he had never felt that way with his own father, not after being trained to deferred to the king as if he was some kind of God! But what was a God, really? A man who would rather place all his faith in this stupid code that has been ruining their family and how they ran this kingdom for twenty damn years! Once-upon-a-time—just days before, if Arthur wants to be specific—he had seen the code the same way his father did. He saw it as a rigid rule that couldn't be bent, or mended, or broken no matter what strange circumstances might occur. Had seen it as something that their kingdom lived off of! But that was before a common man showed up on his training field, and stood back up even after Arthur knocked him flat on his arse just for being on his consort's good side, and told Arthur that he was READY to become one of his knights. If a COMMONER could accomplish so much more than this code would allow, then why were they even living by the code at all! They were only making their kingdom weaker, by trying to deny the skills of somebody who's standing right in front of them!

"Lancelot rode into battle by HIMSELF, and fought even after witnessing what that griffin did to my other men! He has more than earned a right to stand here without judgment! He laid down his life for ME! And I have done awful things to him that even you, sire, with all your spies running amok the kingdom and then reporting to you what I am doing, don't know about." Arthur exclaimed, a loud fever growing in his tone that had even Uther straightening up his spine with a sharp notice. Arthur's jawline went right, his father probably didn't know that Arthur knew about the spies he had around this kingdom, but not even those spies could be everywhere that Arthur went. Not even his spies could've told his father the REASONS he had tried to do something like murdering Lancelot in the middle of the marketplace in front of men, women, and children alike. He was on a roll now though, and Arthur continued without pause, "Even my own consort himself, has deemed Lancelot worthy of attention! And aren't you the one that is always telling me I should do whatever it takes to make sure Merlin is happy, lest we cause strife with his uncle's place here in the court! Lancelot has proven himself to be a great confidence to my consort, and I don't think I trust any of my men to keep an eye on him like I would Lancelot!"

And to Arthur's surprise, he actually found what he was saying was the truth. It had only been that morning that Arthur still felt as if Lancelot was the wrong sort for Merlin to be hanging around with. Somebody that would only get him into trouble, if not worse! It was only one day after meeting him, that his little consort had committed himself to fraud and treason! What other horrible acts and crimes could Lancelot get him to commit, whether it be Merlin's idea again or not, once they've developed a deeper friendship. But Lancelot had fought a griffin before he even knew Merlin's name! He had committed himself towards Merlin's protection, and even told Arthur such to his face. He had even fought ARTHUR HIMSELF, because he thought Arthur was a danger to him. And he'd not been wrong, either. That was what Arthur wanted, he realized. A man who would guard Merlin with his every last breath, and not any of these petty men that only guarded Merlin for a day or night before handing the protection over to the next. He wanted a soldier who would challenge even Arthur, who clearly was incapable of making good decisions when it came to Merlin's protection or care, if he thought something was off. Lancelot struck Arthur as the type that would take the very lance he had jammed down the griffin's throat, and jam it straight up Arthur's arse if Arthur took a wrong step at Merlin. If Arthur wasn't able to keep Merlin safe from himself, and if he couldn't die to ensure Merlin's safety, then he needed to trust somebody else to do it for him.

A major event, considering Arthur found it difficult to trust other men around his consort.

But Lancelot…

He was different.

"I said, do anything it takes to make your consort happy because having that boy happy only means good things for us! He's less liable to throw one of his fits and somehow get his way while making the rest of us look like idiots! I did NOT say I would be willing to change the way that this kingdom is run just for that, and I am honestly appalled that you think any differently, Arthur!" Uther snapped, clearly still furious about the rash of achievements Merlin had been able to accomplish right under his nose. But Arthur sniffed with a hint of pride as he remembered those accomplishments—Merlin managing to save Gwen's life before she was tied to the pyre, Merlin managing to savage a treaty when his own father had been turned away by Bayard. Merlin was special like that, it only made sense that he had a guard able to keep up with that wild streak, and keep Merlin alive the next time he inevitably ran off to do something he wasn't supposed to do. But Uther finally seemed to realize neither of them were going to get anywhere with the other just by yelling at each other, so the king took a deep breath to steady himself and spoke more rationally, "Alright, Arthur. I can see how… saving your life tonight has probably affected your decisions toward this man. It's been quite a while since I have seen you acting so strongly about something, perhaps I can be opened to offering him a pardon after all. He can leave Camelot by the morning's light, and be allowed to live the rest of his life outside of our cells. And I… I won't even push on getting the name of the man who made his forgery, if only to repay my own debt for saving your life."

Arthur should probably take this deal and make a run with it, knowing that this was the best his father would be willing to do in original circumstances. But it was too late for such things, the prince decided, as he rapidly shook his head before his father could finish speaking the last word. Yes, Merlin would be safe if his father gave up on his doomed hunt to find the forger, but this wasn't any kind of deal Merlin would be happy with, if he had been in the room. Hell, HE'S not happy with the deal. His father already had the chance to make this choice when Lancelot had first gotten arrested, Arthur himself had even suggested to give him leniency after realizing he was only committing the fraud because of his bloodline. And not because he was planning on stealing any state secrets, or his consort, away from him. But they've come too far past the point where a deal like this could be seen as a good thing. Now, Arthur wanted something to give Lancelot that would properly thank him for everything he's done since he came to Camelot, tonight's events only being the top of the iceberg. And he's not going to relent unless Uther gave Lancelot something that would truly be able to convey how thankful Arthur was. And there was only one thing that he had coming to mind.

"There's only one thing that both myself and Merlin would want considering all these circumstances that have unfolded tonight. And father, I implore that you see reason and allow it. We MUST pay him back for saving my life, and I don't believe anything else is going to be good enough." Arthur said firmly, making sure to add Merlin's name in there somewhere. Merlin had been trying, during this whole week, to make something of Lancelot by himself. Merlin had wanted to make Lancelot a knight, and Arthur had denied him when Merlin had asked him questions about becoming a knight back during their failure of a first date that Arthur shouldn't have half-arsed his way through. Not anymore though. It was time for them to put on a united front against his father. Arthur WANTED to hold a united front with his consort by his side, something Arthur had never allowed before because he wanted to keep distance between them. But it was time to close that distance, one step at a time. Even if Arthur had to claw for it until his fingers were red and bloody. "Lancelot has proven he deserved to be, out of any of the other knights that have trained underneath by command, one of my knights. You need to restore Lancelot to the rightful place he earned, as a fully re-instated knight or Camelot."

Uther's head whipped around to stare Arthur down, and Arthur held his head up even higher, standing behind the decision he had already made. Uther was looking at him as if he didn't know who he was anymore, as if he wasn't able to believe those words had just came out of his own son's mouth. But Arthur held firm, determined not to waver beneath his father's stare this time. Arthur was no longer blinded by his irrational hatred over Lancelot being allowed so much easy access to his consort. Arthur was so bloody SICK of having knights who'd act as if they didn't know which way to point a sword, sick of men like Knights Julian and Bryon who ran away from danger instead of towards, sick of knights who did only the bare minimum to get by and had no desire to rise themselves in the ranks of his men. Lancelot was like a breath of fresh air compared to the men Arthur had been seeing more and more lately. Perhaps even a man Arthur could trust to ride at his right hand during battle. Definitely, a man that Arthur could trust to stand by his consort's side even when everything is going wrong for him. Lancelot had qualities Arthur didn't even know he had been looking to have in his men, but now that he found it… Arthur couldn't imagine leaving this room without Lancelot's knighthood coming with him.

"Never." Uther breathed out, making his word sound as if it was a law Arthur's not allowed to challenge. But Arthur could feel his nostrils when they started to flare…never, his father said. Arthur himself had one said that he would never want to be around Merlin. Arthur had once told himself that he never wanted to see Merlin again for as long as he lived. Arthur had once said that he NEVER wanted to be at Merlin's beck and call. But being confronted with his death so closely, it put a few things into perspective. And Arthur knew every thought of his had been a lie, because even back then he'd been fascinated with learning every little tidbit Merlin had to offer him. And now… now Arthur wanted to LIvE for Merlin. "The law is the law. And the code bends for no man."

Arthur could feel his blood pumping throughout his body hot and heavy with his mounting frustrations. His father was expecting him to back down by this point, but Uther didn't understand. He would never understand the complexity of Arthur's mind in this moment. He would never understand that this was the prince's SECOND CHANCE! His second chance, his fresh start, to make things right in a way he had neglected before. Arthur should be torn apart right now, his guts should be spread out all across that field for scavengers or wolves to find and desecrate. He shouldn't BE HERE. But somehow, and not because of luck, but because of one man that his own consort had placed directly in his path, he was still breathing. And Arthur wasn't going to waste this sudden gift he had been given, he wasn't near naive enough to think he would be allowed a third chance if everything went wrong again.

"THEN THE CODE IS WRONG!"

Arthur screamed so loud that he could feel the heat of his anger rushing onto his face, could feel the thudding of his heartbeat as if it was borrowed time he didn't know he would get. Arthur's entire life, this code had been shoved down his throat as if it was an order from the gods themselves. But it wasn't any god that had made this law, it was Uther Pendragon that had placed it in motion for all these years. And Arthur had honestly believed in it. He believed that those only of noble birth were worthy enough to hold a blade in their hand, and only those of noble birth would have the honor necessary to wield it correctly. The prince had believed their noble blood gave them some kind of instinctive way of commanding respect. But look at Arthur! A noble with dozens and dozens of generations that had came before him on both sides of his family tree, his own blood was probably the most blue out of any other noble alive today. And yet, Arthur didn't know how to command respect… not like he thought he did. The prince didn't have HONOR, like a knight should… what was honorable about all the deplorable thoughts he'd been having that included raping and violating his consort in the most violent manner he could. And then look at Lancelot, a man who had literally came from nothing but the dirt smeared against his skin and clothing. Lancelot understood the code of conduct and behavior, he could see something wrong and then jumped into the fray to correct it, unlike Arthur who's buried his head in the sand because of his own denial at what he could see unfolding right in front of him. Arthur had wealth and power, but didn't do one bit of good in the world. And Lancelot was his exact opposite, who spent his days making sure he would leave the world better than he found it, asking for nothing in return

Who was the better man?

Uther would have said Arthur without a second of hesitation, because he could see now, see the way his father was blinded by their supposed supremacy. The prince almost felt as if everything he'd ever been taught his entire life was now nothing more than a lie! Where was the honor in hurting the people that he had been meant to protect? Where was the honor in punishing a man for saving his life? Where was the honor in all the times he spent crushing his husband under his heal? Where was the honor in not allowing a stranger to this city, to have a reward that was meant for him and his alone. If a COMMONER could wield the blade and do something trained men could not, then why had Arthur been told the exact opposite every bloody day of his life. If his own consort could see all that Arthur could not, then why hadn't Arthur trusted his opinion right from the start?

Bloody Lancelot acted more like nobility than Arthur had in months, if not for years!

"You sit there, and will tell me that nobility and commoners are separated by a line that much be uphold at all times! And yet, a commoner walks in here and is about to carry the sword better than any noble I have ever met. You want to just stand there and tell me he needs to be turned away? After what he's done for me? For my consort? For my kingdom? And all of that in only the span of a simple week!" Arthur exclaimed, feeling a pounding in his head that started to warm him he might be going too far, denouncing the code like he was. But just because the code worked for Uther's reign, didn't mean Arthur wanted to keep the tradition. He would even SPIT on the bloody code to show the king exactly how much their time period differed from what Uther thought was best when it was just him, before he had an heir that wanted to explore a different direction he was seeing for the first time. "Why, you will allow me to make a peasant boy my consort, my… my greatest 'love', like you like to tell me! And you will not do the same when it's a knight? There's no difference! If I can give a common boy my name, then I should be allowed to see another common boy defending this country."

And Arthur was very much aware of how he was paraphrasing Merlin right now, could feel the echo of his presence standing behind him and giving him all the strength he needed to keep fighting against his father. Back when the former knight had been arrested on fraud charges and sent to the dungeons, Arthur had ended up in another confrontation with Merlin. Arthur had yelled about the seriousness of Merlin aiding and abetting in fraud, and Merlin had asked a very similar question. If a peasant can become a consort, why couldn't a commoner be allowed to become a knight? Back then, Arthur had been too full of fear, the only one out of the two of them who seemed to realize how close Merlin would be to the pyre if his father discovered the truth. He had hardly thought on the question, his consort's safety more important than some kind of debate trying to brew between them. But here and now, witnessing things Arthur didn't think was even possible, he understood now what Merlin was telling him.

"Your consort should be damn grateful for the opportunity I gave him when I allowed the two of you to marry! He shouldn't be pushing for more than he's been given, considering all the good fortune that he's now allowed to have at all these days!" Uther exclaimed back just as loud, and Arthur's next breath of air tasted of fire and brimstone. Merlin should be damn grateful, Uther claimed …damn grateful for what? Grateful for Uther forcing the two of them to marry, which most definitely hadn't been a choice like the king tried to make it sound like. Grateful for being forced to deal with Arthur and all his crap. He should be grateful for being pushed around and treated like a second class citizen by the very knights meant to dedicate themselves to his protection. Damn grateful to be living under Arthur's thumb, forced to be a subject for whatever strange or odd perversions that often clouded the prince's mind. Grateful to use his wits as his only means of defense against people far bigger and stronger than he's ever going to be… Arthur didn't see one bloody thing Merlin should actually be grateful for. "This… Lancelot, has no such privilege for my leniency. And I don't think I want him in my kingdom not a second longer! Not if he's able to go and warp your mind and way of thinking like he clearly has. The Arthur that I know would NEVER deny our traditions!"

The angry flush was working its way back up Arthur's neck, and he knew with every fiber of his being, that his father was WRONG! Arthur's mind was most certainly not warped. In fact, Arthur was pretty sure he was seeing things clear for the first time. Merlin's steady presence still standing strong despite all the ways Arthur had tried to crush him, Lancelot's strength of character and noble heart defying him every step of the way just like his consort. Uther could have called these men 'distractions', or whatever other word he wanted to use with them in mind. But Arthur wouldn't be SEEING without them. He wouldn't SEE how stubborn his father is, that he would whether see their men falling than to admit a commoner or two could be the key to saving them all. HAS became the key to saving them all. During today, during the past, and who knows what may be accomplished in the future.

X

Merlin's trepidation twisted his stomach into knots as he stood in a corner of the hall with Lancelot by his side. The former knight hadn't spoken a word ever since they stepped off to the side, he'd simply started staring down the grand doors as the faint voices from the other side grew louder before subsiding into something indistinguishable. Merlin's fingers were rapping along the side with this hurried motion, quite similar to the days where Merlin had to count just to keep calm—onetwothreefourfive. Onetwothreefourfive. He didn't know why the knight had insisted they stand over here, and then proceeded to turn into quite the stone statue on Merlin. His question had only required a simple 'yes, or no' for an answer… would Lancelot agree to keep his presence on the field secret from Uther and Arthur. Or was Merlin going to have to think quick and come up with a reasonable explanation for him being there that didn't involve using his magic to destroy a monster. Lancelot had never failed him before though, but Merlin still wondered… would today be the day that Lancelot decided he asked for a bit too much? Maybe Lancelot, after landing in jail and then coming face to face with something that could kill him, had been hit with a reality check to the face. Maybe he wasn't willing to lie anymore for Merlin…the consort bit on his bottom lip hard enough for the meat to start stinging.

"Lancelot, are you worried that Uther isn't going to restore your knighthood after all of this? I mean, Uther's not a reasonable man, but surely he can see your help has only brought peace to the kingdom. It's pretty hard to deny the truth about what happened on the fields." Merlin offered to Lancelot, trying to assess how Lancelot was feeling. The consort glance back towards the doors, feeling guilty about trying to push his own agenda when Lancelot clearly had other things on his mind. Just like Merlin was torn between securing his alibi, and wondering what exactly was Arthur discussing with his father that could not have them inside. If Arthur was badmouthing Lancelot, then Merlin had a right to try defending him. "I mean, you were the only one that was capable of defeating the beast. That's no easy feat, even Uther's got to understand how much strength a person has to possess to do something as amazing as that."

Lancelot continued to stare around him, thoughts Merlin could see swirling in his brown eyes but had no hope of deciphering. Merlin did finally notice how intensely the warrior was searching his face, and Merlin's subconsciousness raised its ugly head as he brought a hand up to touch at his cheeks. He'd been smart enough to scrub his face with water before he left his uncle's, trying his hardest to hide the red tear track lines that had cover his face after he finished crying to his uncle about how indecisive he had been with Arthur's life. Merlin thought he'd done a pretty good job at hiding his distress so soon, but maybe Lancelot was able to see it still? Maybe his eyes were tinned with red along the bottom, which was something Merlin couldn't help, but perhaps he could claim he hadn't gotten any sleep tonight. It wasn't like it wasn't true, not any of them had gotten a wink of sleep during the night. What, with killing a griffin, and all of that.

"You're right about one thing Merlin, whoever killed that griffin has much more strength than somebody like I possess. And what they did out there in the field was… truly something remarkable. But alas, I can't admit to something that did not come from me." Lancelot spoke in a calm and decisive voice, and Merlin's brows furrowed into the center of his forehead as he tilted his head to the side to stare him down. Because… what? What was Lancelot taking about. He'd put his lance straight down into the belly of that beast, his lance had gone straight down, pushing aside organs and puncturing others that got in its way. It had a little assistance getting down, of course, but what made Lancelot think he did not land the killing blow? He was holding the bloody lance in his hand when it went down! "…You killed it."

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck Merlin dead, his entire spine going so ramrod straight that it could have killed him if it had cracked. His first thought, full of panic and disarray was… he knew. Lancelot knew who he was, he knew what he was, and he suddenly had all the cards to Merlin's life resting directly in the palm of his hands. Merlin could die or live by Lancelot's hand. The next thought Merlin had was to run, the energy flooding through his legs to keep up with the panic racing of his blood encouraging him to escape before Lancelot could do something drastic. Like expose him. Merlin didn't know where he was going to go, he hadn't actually planned on something like this happening, but running did sound like a good start. His heart was pounding so loudly inside of Merlin's eardrums, that it took him a second to school his features into what it might have looked like if somebody had told him a funny joke. He still had the chance to get out of here, he just needed to play it cool… and make Lancelot believe how ridiculous he sounded. Arthur had certainly thought Merlin to be ridiculous when he once raced into the council chambers and declared himself a sorcerer to get Gwen out of the dungeons.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard? Me, being able to do things like that? I mean, you've seen my trip over my own feet before, haven't you? I think I would know some sort of spell to catch myself if I could actually do any such thing! You… you're funny, Lancelot." Merlin laughed himself silly, loud and obnoxious and completely out of character for himself. But he couldn't stop it from happening either, as if his body wasn't his own as the words spewed out of him to overcompensate for his twisting intestines and horrific nausea trying to escape his throat. His hands were coated in sweat, and he could only think of what Gaius would say once he found out… was he going to find out when he was set to burn on the pyre? Or would somebody see fit to inform him before it happened. Merlin laughed again, wide enough that his eyes squeezed shut on their own accord, or perhaps he was just trying to stop the flow of tears trying to emerge once again. He had spent so long hiding himself, and THIS was the thing to end him. Not Arthur, not the griffin, but somebody close enough that he considered them to be a friend, something Merlin had never taken lightly in all his life, considering how few friends he actually had. "Besides, even if I was able to do something like that, I'm not a fighter. I can hardly hold one of those spears without dropping it on myself, yet alone… enchant one. Besides, I didn't even have a horse or anything! I was on the ground the entire time! Don't you know how hard it is to enchant something when it's a moving target? I mean… I would imagine it would be tough to work magic on something moving! I mean… I don't have that kind of…"

Merlin mentally pleaded for himself to stop talking, knowing that he was only digging himself a deeper and deeper hole. Honestly! Non-magic people would have absolutely no CLUE how difficult it actually was to enchant the lance as it was in motion! And then he just went and spewed the fact as if it was common knowledge! Somebody just strike him down and kill him now! Or not. Lancelot was probably about to alert the guards right now, Merlin's failed attempt to get suspicion off of him seemingly only confirming what Lancelot clearly already knew. He wanted to swallow his tongue down to the depths of his throat so he would never be able to speak again, he was sure that Lancelot could smell his stench high in the air. The putrid stench of absolute and utter fear, causing his underarms to sweat so severely that his shirt was already sticking to the horrid clamminess of his skin.

"Bregdan anweald."

Merlin's heart seized in his chest when Lancelot enunciated the very spell that Merlin had used earlier that afternoon. The dread flooding him almost had his knees shaking and his throat convulsing… yes, Lancelot didn't say the spell as it should be said. But for somebody who's never been around magic, Merlin is still able to understand what he was trying to say. And he doesn't feel better at all when he sees Lancelot glancing over his head to where the two knights still stood, and only just now was Merlin realizing why Lancelot had herded the two of them into this corner. So that they would be heard… and the only reason he could think for this, did not leave Lancelot in a favorable light. Merlin knew the former knight had been his friend, somebody he cared for, somebody that he'd trusted with even the true context behind his marriage, but… Merlin had been warned time and time again, by his mother and then by Gaius, about what may happen if he was revealed. People who were friends could suddenly turn into a person he didn't recognize any longer. People he laughed with could shake or tremble in utter fear, as if they thought Merlin would smite them down after his biggest secret became theirs. Or on the flip side, people he had once allowed to touch his tender and half-shattered heart, may decide Merlin was better off being used as a tool. Something to command and order about, in exchange for not sending him off to the fires. Neither were a life worth living. But which side of the spectrum did Lancelot fall on? Did Merlin want to know?

"I didn't really understood why you ran away from the fight with the griffin, not at first, you know. I think I was still riding off the high of my adrenaline before I saw you, standing up on that ledge. I don't think I really understood even after you were gone why you suddenly weren't there anymore. But then I see Arthur standing up, and coming at me, and he's… thrilled, by what I did. So thrilled in fact, that I could barely get two words out while he's congratulating me, trying to tell me what my defeating the griffin could mean for my future. And it's only then that I realize… Arthur doesn't know. How could he? Your marriage was by a contract, you had no reasons to divulge something like this to him, not after the way he hurt you. You ran, and asked me not to speak of tonight, because it is the only way to keep you safe. It makes sense though, now that I've had the time to think about it. That forgery you made for me, everybody kept going on and on about how good it was, about how amazing the brushstrokes were and how they needed to find you if you were going to make such excellent copies to pass around. But I've seen the way you write, and I've seen you when you're practicing doing stitches out of that book of yours, and your clumsy at best, it doesn't make sense for you to be able to create a forgery as good as you did with mine. Not unless you used magic to do it, didn't you? Gwen doesn't even know about this, does she? I mean, I suppose I can understand why you didn't tell me, I haven't been here for that long. But Gwen's been your best friend for months…"

Merlin's breath hitched in his throat, and Lancelot paused, taking in the pasty sheen of the consort's skin, and the fear in his eyes. One look at Merlin's face would have been the only answer Lancelot needed, even though the other man hadn't came straight out and asked if Merlin was a sorcerer. But Merlin felt as if he was standing somewhere toxic, something that would open a hole under his feet and have the black abyss swallow him whole. Merlin could only think about his nightmare, the one he had so many days ago that it was before he'd even met Lancelot… he'd been tied down to the pyre. People he both knew and didn't know jeering at him, watching as he shriveled up and cried enough tears to drown himself in as somebody—Arthur—burned him to ashes. That was the only future Merlin could see for himself right now. Lancelot was upset with him and had every right to be! Merlin had used magic to help him get in with Arthur and his knights. He hadn't told Gwen—Lancelot's love—the truth. And he'd ran away from the battle the second he realized he was going to be caught, like a coward. Merlin had gone about this all wrong, had done everything wrong! He probably should have trusted Lancelot in the beginning. It didn't matter if the consort had been raised from birth holding this secret, didn't matter he'd been taught to keep his secret at all costs, didn't matter the consequences should it get out what he was. Merlin should've somehow KNOWN Lancelot would be so important to him, should've known he was somebody Merlin would have given his life for. Maybe if he knew in those first days, Lancelot wouldn't be coming for him now. Maybe everything would've been okay if he had said something to him then! Maybe… maybe… maybe…

Merlin was spiraling into a dark abyss he hadn't seen since the days where he had been relentlessly tortured by Arthur at every waking moment. Falling into old habits that included blaming himself for things that simply weren't his own fault, or couldn't have been stopped if he HAD known. After all, there wasn't a guarantee that Lancelot would have reacted any better if he'd been told back in those early days, no guarantee that Merlin wouldn't be staring at the horrific burning embers bouncing across his feet bound to the pyre behind him in the end any way. There was no guarantee… Merlin's breath hitched violently when a hand came down on his shoulder. Loud enough that the two guards brought a hand to their blades at the first noticeable sounds of his distress, but stayed where they were when Lancelot did nothing more than stare deeply into their consort's eyes. Brown and gentle and warm, Merlin's lungs hadn't been doing a good job at keeping his breath circulating in his body until he looked at the same eyes that Gwen so lovingly adored.

"Merlin, I don't want you to look as if you're scared of me… ever. I will always be your friend, do you understand that? You've already trusted me with much since I've arrived here, I can hardly expect you to share with me something so …delicate." Lancelot spoke in a concise tone, his voice betraying no hint of this being a lie as he stared steadily into Merlin's own eyes. The consort started to waver where he stood, not entirely sure that he DID understand. He felt really dizzy right now, the world spinning and him stuck helplessly and unable to just jump off. Lancelot was supposed to be turning him in right now, it wasn't like he was family. Lancelot wasn't Gaius or his mother, he didn't have any kind of family obligations that might give him pause. But… Lancelot's words were not matching what Merlin had been expecting to hear. And it threw him for a loop. "Let me assure you, this secret of yours… I will take it straight to my grave if I have to. Nobody will hear about you from my lips. You're… it's my duty as your friend to keep things between us only. I can hardly imagine what you must be going through to have such an intense reaction to my finding out, I don't know much about this stuff, to be honest. But… I can't imagine it's been very easy to live beneath the Pendragon's nose without faltering. Your own husband… he'd strike you down if he knew, wouldn't he?"

Merlin blinked several times in quick succession, trying not to let his tears flow free. Yeah, Arthur probably would take him out the second Merlin was revealed to him, his magic too much for even the great possessive freak to take. But the consort was reeling… was Lancelot being serious? Has he just promised Merlin that his secret would be taken to the grave? Had he just sworn to never speak of this to anyone? Merlin's entire body trembled, but not with fear. There was a warmth inside his chest, something soft and soothing and it left Merlin bloody grateful! He could see it now. There was no fear in Lancelot's eyes as the man stared him down. He wasn't looking at Merlin as if he was meant to be feared, or if he was a monster just waiting for the right time to swoop in and leave the world in pieces everywhere he stepped. Lancelot wasn't looking at him as the consort had seen other people looking at sorcerers… not like the way Merlin's seen people racing away from the courtyard to escape Mary Collins after she swore vengeance on the pendragon family. Not the way people had backed up in the stands of the stadium, stuck watching in utter horror as Valiant argued viciously with the snakes emerging from his shield in the midst of battle. Not like the way people had refused to be in close contact with each other as the word had slowly spread about magic being the cause for the plague that tried taking Camelot down to its knees. Why wasn't Lancelot looking at him like all the others would? Why wasn't Lancelot doing something horrible to him after he got a free pass… sorcerers didn't exactly have the same basic rights other people had.

"You… you won't tell…?"

Merlin hated how much his voice trembled, how utterly weak he sounded. But Merlin found it difficult to wrap his mind around this. His entire life, Merlin had imagined what would happen if people found out about him. The people Merlin had grown up with in Ealdor, or had watched him grow... would they see him as the same boy that had known for all these years? Or would they be looking at a stranger who had simply stolen the face of the boy they knew? What would've happened if it had been Gwen who had been out on that field for whatever odd reason, and saw what Merlin had done to the griffin. What would've happened if it had been Morgana? Or if Arthur had woken up earlier and bore witness to Merlin's spellbinding. Would they quake in fear, terrified that he would set fire to their clothes and skin with a twitch of his finger, just like they would do with him if given a chance. Would they throw stones at him, drag him down until he was on the ground and bound with heavy ropes to keep him in place until they decided what to do with him, stopping him before he had a chance to turn his wickedness onto them. Would they have strung him up themselves onto some kind of makeshift pyre in the middle of the woods, determined to end him long before Camelot was made aware of Merlin's double life.

But rarely…rarely did Merlin ever dared to dream that the opposite could have happened to him instead.

Sorcerers didn't get understanding.

They got prejudices and bigotry thrown at them under the guise of 'purging all wickedness from the world.'

"Never."

Lancelot spoke as clearly as he possibly could, squeezing Merlin's shoulder to emphasize his point. The sincerity in his eyes speaking to Merlin the way that a voice couldn't, conveying the honesty within. This was the one scenario the consort found the most difficult to accept… being accepted by somebody who benefited more by turning him in. Lancelot MIGHT become a knight once all of this business with the griffin was settled with, but he would be guaranteed his ranking if he revealed a sorcerer that had been living in his household to kneel at the king's feet. Hell, Lancelot could even get a fortune and become a noble himself and then become a knight if he did something like sell Merlin off to the highest bidder. Sorcerers weren't exactly unknown around the black markets, or so he'd been told at some point by his mother. But Lancelot wasn't doing a damn thing Merlin would have expected. He was ACCEPTING HIM, with open arms and opened eyes, seeing Merlin for all that he was. And not turning his back on him… how had Merlin ever been so lucky to find a friend like Lancelot.

"I wasn't lying when I said that somebody truly amazing had to have destroyed the griffin. Which is why I swear to you, I understand the dangers that must be in your life. If you need me to, I would swear it on my honor as both a man and on my desire to be a knight, your secret lives and dies with me. I will not even tell Guinevere, it's YOUR secret, and you should decide who gets to know and who doesn't." Lancelot said, and the burden of Merlin's secret felt as if it was being lifted off of him. His eyes were damp, but he started to allow himself to hope again, a small smiling curling in his lips. Maybe not everybody would try to hurt him, maybe not everybody in the world wanted to condemn him before they even got to know him. But hearing how Lancelot would swear on his own honor, how he was willing to keep it from GWEN, of all people… Merlin didn't know it was possible to feel this free. To know somebody didn't see him as a monster… "But, Merlin, I cannot stay here and pretend to do something that I didn't do. We did that when you magicked my forgery into place, and it didn't work as we hoped. Now, I've got to do something different. There won't be any lies any longer, no more deceit between the king and the prince and myself. I'll not speak of you, but… I can't live with the men here looking at me, believing I did something only one man was capable of doing."

Merlin swallowed, not entirely sure what was going to happen in the next few minutes. Lancelot would die before he confessed before the king what Merlin really was, he could see it in his eyes, bringing a content warmth to every inch of his body until it felt like he could burst. But there were other issues that had to be handled, that Lancelot needed to handle. It wasn't as if Merlin could just magic their way out of this one. Merlin didn't think Lancelot would've wanted him to do it if he could. This next step in their journey, wherever it might lead them, was one that Lancelot needed to take. Just like Merlin had needed to do that spell against the griffin, proving to himself that he was more capable than he thought he was. And who was Merlin to deny Lancelot his chance to put all of this to rights? After Lancelot had seen what he could do, who was Merlin to stop him. But still…

"What are you going to do?"

Lancelot looked at the two guards standing by the door, and then he turned to look back at Merlin, and the consort was concerned about the way he looked at him. As if he was preparing to do something desperate, something that may even be on the verge of stupidity. It brought anxiety back to Merlin, it wasn't as if Lancelot could go in there and scream he didn't kill the griffin. Arthur had been there, and thought that was what he had seen, so it wouldn't work unless Lancelot told the whole truth and nothing but the truth. But Merlin knew for a fact that Lancelot wouldn't do that, because he had SWORE he wouldn't. But Merlin also didn't want Lancelot to get into some kind of trouble on his behalf.

"I'm going to do the only thing I can do."

X

Lancelot NoLastName had never had many thoughts when it concerned those who could use magic. He had simply not have much experience being around somebody that could do those types of things. He had always traveled place to place without stopping anywhere long enough to meet people, and people with that kind of secret weren't exactly sharing with strangers they happen to be sitting next to at a tavern or ran into in a marketplace. But Lancelot wasn't wishing extermination on them either. He had met some truly awful people on his journeys who were fanatical about their views, screeching about what they would do if they ever came across a magic user on their own. Horrible things that ended in the sorcerer's brutal murder, but only after their skin was burned piece by piece, tormented with stab wounds and kick marks and the life until it was clear that even the sorcerer would wish for death. Lancelot would usually leave by that point, having no desire to hear such sickening ideas being tossed out into the air like this. And the few times Lancelot had ever actually SEEN a person using magic, it had seemed… harness. Flowers floating around the air, or using it to dry out wood needed to make a fire. Certainly not the stuff that made people want to hurt them.

Lancelot had heard so many stories about how evil sorcery were, and how the ones that could wield it would seduce him into using it until it finally corrupted his soul so badly, that there was no going back for him. It had seemed quite far fetched to him, something corrupting his soul just because he tried it once or twice? But it hadn't mattered, Lancelot had his sword and had no interest with learning the ways of witchcraft. Especially since he knew very well what views were like on the subject in Camelot. It would have harmed his chances should he be associated with it in any manner. Other than these brief times though, it was as if magic didn't exist for Lancelot. He had lived his life without thinking of it for days, weeks… months, even. Magic wasn't part of his life, and he was perfectly okay with that. It didn't bother him any, having no views while others seemed to have only one view. Why worry himself about something that didn't affect his life one way or another.

But then, Lancelot had met Merlin.

And everything changed.

Consort Merlin had been everything Lancelot had dreamed about ever since he first heard his name in a dusty tavern bar months ago. Yes, when Lancelot got here, he had realized Merlin was also an abused and mistreated boy who nobody respected and even less wanted to acknowledge. But Merlin held an inner strength that most people didn't possess, the determination to keep on fighting and standing strong, winning people's loyalty over the course of days right in front of Lancelot's very eyes. Kindness seemed to emulate from deep within him just as strong as the way he protected his friends, with a fierceness that Lancelot could only hope to match one of these days. Merlin didn't need to wield a sword for Lancelot to see him be as great as he was. Lancelot heard many times over the years that one should never meet their hero's because it would only lead to disappointment when the man didn't match with the idea in his head. But Merlin's flaws, and his mistakes, and the ways he would go above and beyond to correct them had turned his idea of Merlin into a reality. Merlin wasn't an idea, he had flesh and bone and skin and struggled with life just like every other person Lancelot had ever met.

How was Lancelot supposed to know Merlin struggled more than most?

The burdens that came with being the Consort of a Kingdom had nothing to do with the burdens that came with being a sorcerer. Merlin had developed into a friend before his very eyes, that the idea of him being a sorcerer felt like it was something fanatical. Something people might make up just to stir the pot, but nothing that could be proven because of how ridiculous it was. Lancelot's seen Merlin bandaging bloody wounds without using magic to stem the bleeding for it to be less slick. Lancelot had seen Merlin fighting two knights with a simple branch in hand, and the consort hadn't lifted a single spell against them to aid in his escape. Lancelot had seen Merlin arguing with Arthur, had seen the way he fought the prince like a lion defending its pride, and the consort had never used magic to prove a point. But when all of Camelot was in danger, when the time came and magic was the only answer… Merlin had risen to the call, risking himself and his secrets to put the city back at ease.

It made Lancelot wonder if all the other stories he had heard over the months about Merlin had magic involved as well.

But it didn't really matter either way.

Because Lancelot KNEW Merlin.

And knew what kind of person he was.

Lancelot didn't think he would ever forget the way he had been racing through the field on his horse, his hand trembling around his spear and having no idea if it would even work. He would never forget looking over and seeing Merlin on that ledge, screaming words that didn't sound human. And he knew he would never forget seeing the flicker of blue light encasing his entire lance moments before he had collided with the griffin. Hearing the screeching of its roar as an odd blue light struck the griffin cold, causing it to fall before Lancelot was able to wrap his mind around what had just happened. And then he had looked out across the field, saw the elation on Merlin's face. And then he saw Arthur as he stumbled to his feet. He had seen Merlin wavering on the spot before he took off into the woods, the misty air swallowing him while, as if Merlin was the one that summoned it to hide him.

And Lancelot had understood.

Lancelot had smiled as Arthur gushed about his 'brave victory', making sure to play his part as he went through the motions. He would nod his head whenever he saw Arthur glance over to him during their ride back to the city, he'll smile as if he was pleased with himself, agreeing with whatever Arthur would say to him, even when he started talking about having Lancelot reinstating to his past rank among the court. He should have been pleased, but all he was able to do was look at Arthur and wonder… wonder if Arthur would be gushing like he was if he knew what really happened. If he knew his husband, who he was likely to kick down just as much as he would kick somebody else down if they looked at him the wrong way, was the real hero behind everything. There had been much that Lancelot had wanted to say, much he had wanted to do, but remembering the flicker of blue light around his sword had kept his mouth firmly shut.

Lancelot had confronted Merlin after the consort finally deemed it safe enough to return. And god, had Lancelot been glad he didn't. He didn't want this kind of secret to be hovering between them, leaving them in some kind of limbo in which Lancelot knew the truth but Merlin didn't know he knew. Merlin's dread and fear had been palpable when Lancelot had confessed, but it only made the former knight want to wrap Merlin in a huge hug and tell him he didn't need to hide his truth from Lancelot. Merlin could tell him about his false marriage, the biggest secret the royal family was keeping from the people. He could show he was a sorcerer by using magic deadly enough to kill without leaving a scratch on the body. He could even tell Lancelot he was… half of a two headed dragon that only emerged from his scalp during a full moon, and Lancelot would have still accepted him. Merlin probably could have told him he killed a man, and all Lancelot would do was help him hide the body and create an alibi for him when people came sniffing around. There honestly wasn't much, Lancelot thought, that the other boy COULD do, that would chase the former knight away.

Maybe that was something that should've been concerning.

Lancelot had only known Merlin for a week, but he was already willing to do so much for him. He was willing to lie about himself and who he was just to get in with the royal family, was ready to create a charade of himself just because his FRIEND thought he could do the job better than anybody else. Lancelot's been willing to damn his entire dream and life's work because he didn't want to work under a man like Arthur, an abuser of the highest order who used his power in the past to get away with publicly hurting his consort. Lancelot was prepared, even, to fight to the death the second he learned what Arthur had done to the consort, risking both his life and his freedom if things turned bad. And now he was here, willing to admit purgers in front of the king and the prince, and turn his back on everything he had ever worked for his entire life… for good.

Because of Merlin.

And Lancelot didn't regret it one bit.

Lancelot didn't regret the way he threw himself between the knights standing in front of the door, surprising them so badly that they couldn't react before he had the doors pushed open. He could hear Merlin shrieking behind him to 'let him go', as the two knights grabbed him by his arms in an attempt to force him from the room. And Lancelot jerked against them, refusing to be taken out before he had the chance to correct this situation. These lies Lancelot weaved around himself had gone on for far too long, lies weren't something honorable men did. And neither was it honorable to throw somebody under the carriage to save himself, he thought as he saw the prince whipping around at all of the commotion Lancelot was causing, his eyes flicking to where the consort stood somewhere behind him, sudden tension drawing his face tight.

"What is this?"

Lancelot could hear the aggravation in the king's voice, a voice that must have surely warned people in the past when they were overstepping their boundary with him. But Lancelot wanted to reclaim his honor the only way that he knew how to do it. He wasn't even sure he had entirely lost his honor, but he knew it defiantly hadn't been left unmarred after the week he's had. He somehow was unable to regret it though, not after it had brought Merlin into his life. Perhaps THIS was his destiny, in a way. Not to become a knight of Camelot, but maybe his destiny lay in protecting the one person that could keep Camelot and all of its people safe. It didn't sound like a bad destiny to have, even if it wasn't the one he had originally sought. It was, at least, something that he could live with if he must.

"LET ME SPEAK!"

Lancelot roared as loudly as his voice allowed him to, screaming over the wild chaos that came from the other two guards trying in vain to pull his arms down to his sides so they could march him out of there. But Lancelot was stronger in comparison, jerking himself about to keep them from being able to get a solid grip on him. The last time Lancelot had found himself in this predicament, with armed men dragging him into this very room and throwing him directly at King Uther's feet to face justice for his fraud, he had went willingly. Knowing there's no escaping from the truth. But now that he was burning his dreams, it would take much more than these two men to get him to leave. Nothing about doing the right thing ever came easy, but these were the things that people would do when somebody much more important came along. Lancelot had only wanted to be a knight, but Merlin… was meant for much more. Even if Lancelot himself would never see his rise from the shadows crippling him.

"Wait!" King Uther called out, and it had everybody pausing where they were standing. The king with his hand raised to emphasize his command, the prince flicking his eyes between both Lancelot and Merlin as if he didn't know which was more important to look at in the moment. The two guards with their hands scrambling over Lancelot's biceps, and Lancelot himself pulling forward as he evaded their grips. And Merlin… wonderful Merlin… the key to it all, but going mostly unnoticed among the chaos. The king cleared his throat and started to speak, "I have heard many choice words coming from my son tonight, many of which seem to have surprised me greatly. My son has never fought me for the sake of someone of your… meager status in society. But I suppose that means you've left an impression on him I haven't taken into account. Perhaps I should give you a chance to speak on your own behalf."

There was a long second of silence before the guards finally released the grip they had on his arms, taking a step back against the wall where they would be out of the way, but still close by if Uther decided he didn't like what Lancelot's planning to say. Lancelot didn't allow himself to be intimated by King Uther or his penetrating state as he straightened himself back up, because when there is something important in a man's life, old fears seemed to melt away. The king could have him hogtied and stoned to death in the courtyard, but Lancelot had his reasons for staying strong in the face of so much power. If Merlin could live beneath his roof knowing how each step could very well be his last, then it was no sacrifice for him to have his final meeting with the king himself.

"I don't quite know about how much I've left an impression on your son, sire. I do not know if I've made much of a mark that will be remembered as the days pass us by. But I do know that my experiences in your fair city has changed me far more than I ever thought they would when I arrived. I've been taught many lessons that I… honestly believe will follow me for the rest of my days." Spoke the former knight, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he remembered those lessons. The way Guinevere—his sweet Gwen—taught him forgiveness, when he had been so furious at Merlin for hiding his real identity from him for all those days. He had been taught the consequences of his actions by Uther, his own fault for trying to deny who he really was beneath the armor. Lancelot had even learned a few lessons from Arthur… like what it took to open up with another person and speak his truth. The Arthur he had met at the beginning of his time here would have never came down to him in the cells, letting out just a few grievances that had been plaguing him. But Merlin… Lancelot had learned the most lessons from Merlin. He had learned how to be strong, how to stand in the face of adversary, how to smile even after a life hard lived. And he was sure there were a thousand more lessons he could learn by saying in Merlin's presence longer, but… he was grateful, still, for the time he did have with the Consort. With his friend. With everybody. "But I do not believe that there is a place for me, here in your kingdom. I thank you for the time I had underneath your room, but I believe I've overstayed my welcome. And I've came only so I may bid the both of you fair well."

Lancelot saw the way Uther raised an eyebrow at him, looking dubious by the speech he had made before them. Lancelot wasn't surprised. Uther had most likely expected to hear Lancelot groveling and begging to be given a chance to prove he could keep up with the nobles and be worthy of carrying the title of a Knight. But the time for groveling wasn't now, nor would it ever be. He did not grovel when he had been on his knees, preparing himself for whatever justice the king would give him before he was sentenced to the cells. He wasn't going to grovel now, when the attention was solely on him, no suspicious eye landing on the real hero of the evening. The king and the prince both should've fallen to their knees after what Merlin had done for them tonight, when the consort had every reason in h the world not to. But in a world where laws were made to discriminate unjustly against an entire race of people, Lancelot couldn't do any more than swallowing his tongue and taking his leave.

"What are you talking about, Lancelot? You cannot just leave, I was just talking to my father here. He was… I was going to convince him to give you a chance among the knights. That's what you've been wanting ever since you came here all those days ago, right?" Arthur finally spoke up, looking at Lancelot with this funny little smile on his face, as if he thought Lancelot was showing some kind of funny streak. But Lancelot had never joked about his dreams before, and he would always wish he could wear Camelot's colors with the pride that befitted them. But Lancelot couldn't wear them today, this week's events had left them feeling tainted in a way. Maybe someday that would be different, but he knew this was not the right way for him to become a knight. If he ever has a chance to try again, then he would earn his spot by his own merit. And not by taking a credit for a kill that wasn't his, because Merlin wasn't allowed to admit he had a hand in it. It was an unfair situation for Merlin, but Lancelot was going to do his best to even the playing field for him. "And besides, I thought… Merlin and you are such good friends? I even thought… we were moving past our personal issues with each other. We can hardly do that if you're leaving, most especially when you don't have any reason to go."

Arthur almost looked embarrassed by his murmured admittance, causing the former warrior to raise a brow. Yes, perhaps he and Arthur were no longer at the other's throats, but it wasn't as if the two of them were becoming friends any time soon. Arthur had tried to end him because he thought Lancelot was sleeping with Merlin, had pushed him harder than any of his other knights just because he was a jealous bastard most of the time, and he had hurt Merlin for far too long. Maybe Lancelot and Arthur could learn to work together if there'd been more times, but time was short, and Lancelot wasn't sure he was able to even look at Arthur without remembering the pain he had caused someone as kind and as giving as Merlin. Merlin would go the extra mile for a complete and total stranger, Lancelot was proof of that. He hadn't deserved the hate. Even if Arthur seemed to be pulling back now. There were some things that just could not be forgiven. And Lancelot hadn't even lived through it himself, or seen it at the worse.

"I even… wanted to make you Merlin's official first guard. Somebody's got to do it, and I doubt he'll complain much about it if it's you."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably on his feet for a second, his eyes darting to the consort as if trying to gauge his reaction, but Merlin must've had none since Arthur returned his gaze back to Lancelot with crest fallen disappointment on his face. But Lancelot perked up at that bit of news, it would have been a great honor to hold such a high position. To be able to stand beside Merlin each and every day, dedicating his life to protecting not only Merlin but his secrets. The perfect position to make sure Merlin no longer got hurt by the cruel world, the perfect position to make sure Merlin never had to face anything without some kind of backup, the perfect position to prevent anybody from discovering what lied beneath Merlin's skin. It was a position he would have taken in a heartbeat if circumstances were different, but they weren't. And Lancelot smiled, such a sad little smile, as he ripped up his chances.

"Perhaps in another life, I could have been the guard that Consort Merlin will need in the future, but I don't believe it's me that deserves it. I have lied to you and your father, and there's been conflict between not only you, but Consort Merlin as well. I do not wish to cause any more trouble than I already have. It's not a burden that I wish to carry, as nobody here should bear mine." Spoke the former warrior, his stomach churning as he lamented over his past week here in the city. Moving himself out of the equation seemed like the best call that he could make. Lancelot needed to spend some time away, he needed to work on himself and what his next steps in life were going to be, and he wasn't able to do that here. Here, Lancelot would get sucked into more lies and more decker and more pretending to be something that he wasn't. He couldn't live the rest of his days wondering whether he earned his keep here, or had simply taken a spot that should've belonged to Merlin. He needed to… find himself. "I believe that I should start again, somewhere far from here and take with me only what I have learned in this last week. For now, I must go. But maybe someday, a new chance will come and the fates will allow me to prove myself to you all. Prove that I can BE a worthy knight of Camelot, and guard to Consort Merlin."