A/N: I don't own Merlin. That was the luck of the BBC.

You guys are the most awesome people ever. I can't thank you enough for sticking with me and being so understanding. Also thanks to the people who sent me PMs, I didn't realise you wouldn't be able to re-comment.

Gwen immediately dropped Merlin's hands. This couldn't be possible; she must have been imagining the words coming from his mouth. Either that or he was so wound up or off his head that he couldn't comprehend what he was saying.

"M-magic?" She whispered, glancing around unnecessarily in case of prying ears. The word was foreign and unsavoury on her tongue, unaccustomed as she was to speaking openly about it with another person. How much had Merlin's imprisonment affected him that he was now raving about magic? "I- I should get Gaius… maybe you need to-" She stood from the table in a hurry, knocking an empty bucket over in her haste.

"Wait, Gwen." Merlin stood too, and in her distraction, he grabbed hold of her arm. It wasn't a vicious hold, but certainly uncharacteristic of him, and Gwen stopped. She looked down at her arm, then back up at Merlin, his eyes containing a pleading sadness rather than any ill-intent. "Please." He sounded desperate and she could see that he wanted her to listen to him. After all they'd been through, it was the least she could do.

With that, Merlin raised his palm so it was level with the pair of them, and muttered something softly under his breath. Slowly a small, bright blue orb glowing with the most beautiful light rose from his hand, unbeknownst to him the same orb that had led Arthur to his salvation years before. But as had been happening of late, the spell failed and the orb flickered out of existence in a matter of seconds. He closed his palm quickly, staring sadly at it for a lingering moment, before sitting back at the table.

"You- you… I mean you…" For once, Gwen was lost for words. How could this be happening? How could she have not realised all these years that one of her closest friends had magic? Running a hand through her locks she glanced back at the door, then at Merlin, his face contorted with worry.

He wasn't confused, or lying to her; he had magic and had quite obviously and openly shared it with her. Everything she'd been taught was telling her to run a mile, to not be within inches of a sorcerer, yet she found herself drawn back towards Merlin, resuming her seat at the table and settling in. Her heart had told her a different story, it'd told her to trust him, as he'd trusted her over the many years they'd known each other, and listen to him, let him share anything and everything that he so obviously needed to.

"I know." Merlin groaned, throwing his head in his hands. Had he done the right thing? He thought he must've, seen as she was still in the room and hadn't fled the minute he'd opened his mouth. However this was still a foreign feeling to him, being in complete control of his revelations, something that he seldomly was anymore. "I know it's a big thing, and believe me I wouldn't have kept it a secret from you if it wasn't absolutely necessary." He didn't have an excuse with her, not really. She was one of, if not his closest friend, she didn't exactly hold the same level of prejudice most people in Camelot, especially in the castle, did. Yet he'd still not been able to break down his walls until now, and he wasn't sure they'd be crumbling at all if Arthur didn't know, his world having escalated somewhat in the previous months.

Gwen thought for a moment, weighing the sentence in her head. That she could believe, sorcerers weren't exactly welcomed with open arms into their home, especially as Merlin had arrived here when Uther was still at the helm of a bloodthirsty reign when it came to magic users and their families. She had so many questions, she didn't even know where to start, and didn't want to fluster him or scare him off so soon after opening up with her.

"Do you- I mean, can we talk about it?" Gwen stuttered and Merlin nodded, still slightly uncomfortable, but he was willing to move past that for the sake of having her know the truth about him. "Where should I begin?"

"Wherever you want to. But I will clarify a few things first; I've possessed magic for as long as I've been alive. I was born with it, it's always been a part of me. I'm what you'd call a warlock, mostly what I do is instinctive. And I've never used my magic to hurt someone, I need you to know that." Liar! The little voice in his head screamed, the sight of Drin's purple face about to expire flashing across his vision. Gwen gaped, but said nothing, motioning for him to carry on. "Very few people have known up until now, my mother and Gaius mainly," Merlin felt no need to delve too into details at that moment, or start drenching up older wounds, having plenty for the meantime, "until we were taken." He began to rub his hands together awkwardly, his discomfort beginning to show. He knew it was his fault they'd been taken, and everything that had happened afterwards, he just couldn't resist playing the hero every time, and perhaps he had got too cocky and let himself join in the battle closer to hand, rather than supposedly cowering off centre. "The man who captured us – me mostly – he saw me use magic to try and help Arthur, and he thought I could be converted into a weapon of some sorts. He didn't like not getting him own way." Merlin gritted his teeth and flexed his hands, anything to stop him running his hands over his scars and relieving every cut and hit and word that had tortured him.

"Oh." Gwen's sudden realisation flew out of her mouth before her brain had caught up. She gave him a sympathetic look which almost by magic she managed without a single ounce of pity, something Merlin couldn't thank her more for. She'd never be able to truly empathise with him, never truly knowing the damage done, but she could treat him with respect still, she knew he was not some injured puppy to be pandered to.

"The man," Merlin took a deep breath before the next word out of his mouth, "Drin," it was still like acid on his tongue, "he told Arthur, who then told Gwaine and Leon and Percival and Elyan. Arthur… he didn't take it so well." He grimaced. That was a wound that would take a lot of healing. "He's trying to make up for it though. But Gwen I need you to know that I wanted me to be the one to tell you, and I wanted you to hear all this from me, because I need someone who hasn't been tainted by everything and that's you. I really, really hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you."

Merlin paused, hesitant to look back up at Gwen, not knowing if he could stand seeing the look in her eyes that he saw in Arthur's – the hurt and betrayal – because it would break him to lose her as well, along with everything else he'd lost since Drin. To his surprise, Gwen gripped his twitching hands tightly.

"There's nothing to forgive." She smiled, and in one instance, everything was alright in Merlin's world for a moment. For just one moment, there was no more hurt, or bad memories, or worry; there was just Gwen and her loving, accepting smile. There was a person sat in front of him who knew the truth and wasn't disgusted or hurt or angry, she was just there for him.

"Thanks." It was the only word he could muster through his cracking voice, emotion caught tightly in his throat. "That's why the-" he couldn't find the words to describe earlier, but he felt like Gwen knew exactly what he meant, "happened. I'll be alright one minute and then I've lost minutes of time and I don't know what's happening but I'm so scared." He scrunched his eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can bear this, I'm being haunted, I can't sleep, I can't breathe sometimes and I'm terrified. I can't do it anymore Gwen." His lip trembled, his façade that he exhaustingly tried to keep up at all times was cracking and emotion was bleeding through. He hated feeling this vulnerable, and wouldn't usually let anyone see him like this, but Gwen had proven she could see through his mask. "There's something else as well."

As Gwen moved in closer to comfort him and listen closely to whatever he was about to reveal, Gwaine strode towards the physician's chambers, in his bid to find Merlin. He'd checked the usual places he'd be whilst working, and was surprised to find him missing, especially as eager as he'd been to return to work. However, he hoped even Merlin knew his limits and had retired early for the day, and was properly resting, finally heeding Gaius' warnings.

He'd had concerns about the warlock since that day in his chambers when the shelf had crashed; Merlin hadn't seemed himself and was defiantly more on edge than usual. During the last fortnight, he'd tried to catch him, but he'd either been working or crashed out after his chores and Gwaine had decided today he was finally going to confront him, knowing the longer he left anything the worse it'd get.

As he approached the door he saw it was ajar and heard voices travelling through, speaking in hushed but anxious tones. Gwaine was normally no eavesdropper, he had little care for whispers and secrets of others, but when he'd heard Merlin's pained wobble and Gwen's comforting shushes he couldn't bear to interrupt the pair of them, yet he desperately needed to know what was happening with his friend, so he resigned himself to listening at the door. After what seemed like a lifetime, he quickly departed the corridor moments before Gwen, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

Gwen left the physician's quarters quietly, her heart filled with sorrow for her friend, for the lies he'd been forced to tell over the years, for the pain he'd suffered at the hands of a maniac, and for the worry he had for his friends and if he was ever going to mend bridges with them. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that barely noticed two sinister figures, meeting in the darkness of the corridor. Their shadows were cast high upon the stonework, their cloaks illuminated by the orange glow of the torches further down the hall.

"I don't understand." The shorter figure, who was slightly too wide for the cloak to cover him completely, spoke in a hushed tone. "What business do you have meeting with me? And under such nefarious circumstances too. Got something to hide, have we?" He let out a cold snicker.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" The second figure growled. "There's been word around the castle. You're decidedly unhappy with the status quo, you believe the king has been making mistakes." The figure pointed out knowingly, yet not with the anger the other had expected.

"Now, see here!" The man blustered. "I… I've just been thinking…" Already excuses were forming in his head, ready to lie his way out of a possible treason charge. He'd not lose his position and all he had in this world for the sake of a few throwaway comments.

"Have you or haven't you been questioning the king's choices?" The figure pressed him, his voice hushed but intense, tired of the man's dithering already. They moved intimidatingly closer, their jaw set in a tight grimace.

"Tis true, I have." He heaved a reluctant sigh, realising he'd be unable to reason with such a figure. "Are you to arrest me now?" He was trying to maintain some sense of bravery, but his eyes were full of fear.

"I have knowledge that the king has recently made some mistakes that are now… deeply rooted in the heart of Camelot." The taller figure spoke carefully, ensuring their words were vague enough that they'd not reveal their play too soon.

"What knowledge?" The man quizzed, his mouth practically watering for scandalous rumours and damaging gossip.

"That is for I to know and you to not. This is not about castle gossip shared freely by maids, it is sensitive information and shall be treated as such." Another growl. "I wish to look out for Camelot's best interests and I believe in your own way, so do you, not that I agree with most of your ideologies."

"Are you… are you suggesting…?" The man blanched, wishing to be no part of any kind of conspiracy that could see him worse off than he already was. He'd rather lose his title than his neck.

"What?" A frown began to appear on the figure's features, oblivious to what the man was implying.

"That we… kill-?" The final word had been scarcely on his breath, and he glanced around, making sure they were well and truly alone if that was to be the subject of discussion.

"Of course not! Silence that talk at once." The voice hissed. "I simply believe our king needs to make better informed decisions regarding certain issues. Issues that would've been dealt with a lot differently under his predecessor."

"Most issues would've have been resolved differently." The man muttered, still somewhat mourning the loss of what, he perceived to be, the better king.

"You grow tiresome." The voice came through gritted teeth, clearly exacerbated at the man's tenacity for slander. "We are not here to deal with the king, but of problems surrounding him. Starting with the trustworthiness of his staff."

"His staff?" What on earth was wrong with his staff? His thoughts on Arthur Pendragon's reign consisted of many things, but the choosing of the people who worked under him was of little concern to the man.

"They're always close to him, some a hell of a lot closer than others. Do you not think that the people associating with Camelot's king should be vetted thoroughly?" The figure poked a finger at the confused man.

"I do, but what of it? As far as I know there's not a bad soul there." Admittedly he'd not spent long eyeing the king's servants, but he'd not noticed anything remarkedly unusual about any of them. Although there was-

"His manservant." His thought was finished for him.

"Lanky fellow? Name begins with a P or something?" He'd seen the boy many times, usually glued to the king's hip, a most unusual occurrence between master and servant. Uther never would've had any sort of friendship with his servants, nor kept one on for so long.

"Merlin." Even they could not prevent an eye roll. "He has the king's ear, that much everyone knows. Do you know what he does with it?"

"No, what?"

"There you go." The figure held out their hands, as if proving their point. "A servant influences our ruler on matters he has not been educated on at all. Who knows what he could be conspiring?" The figure gave the man a second to process the thought having planted the seed of doubt into his mind. With luck, it'd grow into a successful hatchling. "I understand he's been slacking off many of his duties as of late, perhaps if the king were to know of this, it might be to our benefit." A bit of encouragement couldn't hurt though.

"Why do you care about him so much, what advantage would it gain for the king to be rid of him?" He was still confused. The boy really didn't seem the type to be whispering venom into the king's ear; he couldn't imagine a simple servant could have much persuasion over the king of Camelot.

"Once again, that is not your concern." The figure breathed dismissively. "Just know it would be of a strategic advantage that he was no longer so closer to the king, something achievable between us two by showcasing his incompetence. Now, you will be attending a council meeting tomorrow, will you not?"

"As will you." The man countered.

"I will," they shrugged, as if it had no bearing on anything, "but I need you to complete the task: inform the king about his servants slipping standards."

"Why must it be my task?" The man looked affronted that he'd so suddenly been roped into this half thought out plan.

"Because I need to keep my closeness to the king, make sure everything still runs smoothly. I do not wish to fall out of favour with him. And doing this would put me at arm's length from him."

"But you're fine with allowing me to take the fall?" Came his snarky reply, not willing to so easily play the role of patsy in the figure's shady scheme.

"You would be lucky to retain your seat by the next year, the king wants you out." The man immediately paled at the thought. "Perhaps this way you may regain his favour." The figure scoffed. "Either way, you have far less to lose than I."

"I see." The man grimaced. "I shall mull it over this evening, and inform you by morning."

"Don't. Either do it, or don't. I shall know your feelings tomorrow either way." Again, the comment was played off with a simple shrug.

The man scoffed, affronted by his arrogance and nonchalance, then turned, making sure there was no one to witness their parting before taking one last glance behind him. "Farewell, Sir Knight."

So many things happening! It's intense! Extra long chapter today, I think I hit 3000 words. We're now starting to see formations of some of the storylines that will be running through this fic.

I've been working on a couple of chapters when I have the time, but I am having to manoeuvre around deadlines. I'm thinking that I'll work on the story a lot more throughout the Christmas break in a few weeks, then have some more chapters uploaded in the new year, but we'll see how we go.

Bloody coursework.