to the world that never let you be: 9/10
Summary: When Arthur notices the scars on Merlin, he sets off to find out why a servant of all people has such marks and discovers that Merlin might not be all that he seems. From kinkme_merlin prompt here
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
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to the world that never let you be
Part Nine
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Arthur wished that he could see Lancelot at once, but as soon as he and Merlin passed the guards at Camelot's entrance, they nodded and sent a runner ahead, informing him that the king wanted to see him as soon as possible.
"Seems like a prince's work is never done," Arthur muttered to Merlin, receiving a roll of the eyes in return. He smiled a little, passing under the portcullis with Merlin a step behind.
Camelot fell into place around Arthur's shoulders then and the severity of what they'd done hung around Arthur's neck. They'd had a moment of complete honesty, of Merlin confessing to 'crimes' that could have given Arthur every right to slaughter him. Arthur would never turn against Merlin, but back in Camelot there was no way for Merlin to be acknowledged as anything more than his manservant. Though Arthur wouldn't view him in the same way, everyone else would.
Merlin didn't seek for any reward for what he'd done - he hadn't even wanted acknowledgement for anything until Arthur had forced it out of him. There was nothing that Merlin wanted. He didn't seek money or status, a rarity if Arthur had seen one (but that was Merlin all over, really, even without factoring the magic in) and there was only one thing he could want for.
But he couldn't plan that now. For now, Arthur had to watch as Merlin stomped off to visit Gaius, turning back to smile at Arthur halfway up the stairs. Arthur smiled back, unashamed. He didn't need the approval of nobility anymore - hadn't needed it for weeks now. Arthur could choose his friends and allies however he wanted and if the council could accept commoners as knights, they'd eventually come around to seeing Merlin as more.
Though they were still discovering what this 'more' entailed. It would be a long process and Arthur was under no illusions that it would be easy... but he had Merlin now. That was enough.
Uther was pleased to see him, sitting up a little in his throne, shoulders relaxing. Arthur didn't know what Morgana had said to their father (he could say it now, still with the sting of betrayal, but the words weren't forbidden any longer), but she had stripped him down, made him vulnerable and open. He could see the worry clear on Uther's face at times, and the relief when Arthur stood before him.
Morgana had tried to kill him, Merlin had said. More than once. Had she threatened his life to Uther? Said she would slaughter his son in front of him? Like the sorcerers Uther believed in rather than the true magic users? Whatever happened to Morgana now, it was of her own making. Arthur could see the choices she'd made and why she'd done the things she had... but if it was a question of forgiveness then no. Arthur would never forgive her for what she'd done.
He spent time with his father, discussing trivialities of the hunt. Uther hadn't minded that their game had been eaten the night before, merely rose a little shakily from where he sat, clasping Arthur on the shoulder and inviting him to walk.
"I know I've placed a heavy burden on you recently," Uther said as they reached the doors. "And I know that things will get harder before they get better, but..." Arthur noticed that his father's eyes were clear, shaken from whatever he'd sunk into since Morgana. "I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
The doors swung open as Uther nodded to the guards, but Arthur waited a moment, watching his father walk away. His shoulders seemed far smaller now, his stance bent and yet he'd still been able to reduce Arthur to feeling like a child again with his words. Not in an awful, gut churning feeling as usual, but unsure of himself, grabbing at praise he'd never needed before, but once he'd got it...
He couldn't build his kingdom upon anger and misery. Morgana had tried and would probably try again, but Arthur would let that go. Merlin had saved Uther time and time again, surely that was a lesson to learn from? If Merlin could save the man who persecuted his kind and would kill him, Arthur could love his father and accept the apologies for the lies he'd told.
Usually, Arthur would have headed back to his chambers after meeting Uther once coming home, but this time he had someone to talk to.
Lancelot stood on the training field, a hand cupped over his eyes as he shielded weak sunlight from his face. From his vantage point, Arthur could see the smile on his knight's face. He followed his stare over to where Percival was shaking his head and where Leon looked down to an axe embedded heavily into the ground. Evidently Percival had been a bit over enthusiastic and sunk the axe down further than he'd meant to. Arthur had a feeling none of them had been able to dig it up. Gwaine was sitting on the ground, looking highly amused by what was going on, polishing his sword slowly.
He took a moment to watch his knights, slinking into the shadows of the castle. Elyan moved forwards to clap Leon on the back, saying something that Arthur couldn't hear. It was wonderful to see how the other knights had taken to his men, despite their heritage. It was just another step forward for Arthur's Camelot, leaving behind the prejudices of the past.
Which was why he needed Lancelot right now.
He was about to make his way across the green to speak to Lancelot when the man's head turned around and he caught Arthur's gaze. Somehow, he sensed that Arthur didn't want to alert the others and slipped from the field, following Arthur as he backtracked into the castle.
"Sire?" he asked cautiously.
Lancelot was Arthur's man through and through, but Arthur knew he'd always choose Merlin first. Which was why he could trust him; that and he also knew of the magic.
"I need your help," Arthur said, glancing around and determining that they were alone. Lancelot nodded slowly.
"I need you to talk to the knights, Leon, Elyan, Percival and Gwaine." He looked around again before leaning closer, startling Lancelot a little. "To find out what their stance on magic is. I'd do it myself, but I fear I wouldn't get an honest answer."
And why should anyone give him one? To everyone bar Merlin, he was Uther's son to a tee, including stance and hatred on magic.
"And what is the answer you wish to hear Sire?" Lancelot asked, equally quietly. His eyes were guarded and Arthur knew he would defend Merlin to the last should Arthur's intentions prove against him.
This reassured him. Lancelot was too good a man. He had his vices - they all did after all - but he was loyal and willing to risk everything, even his life, to protect a friend. Somehow it didn't feel like losing Gwen when he knew Lancelot would be there for her, and Merlin for himself.
"It has to be kept in uttermost secrecy, but I want a law proposal drawn up to be instated almost soon as I'm crowned." Arthur swallowed. This was as close as he'd ever get to telling anyone other than Merlin what he'd feel and it had to be right.
Lancelot was studying him, dark eyes directly staring at him. No one but the king was allowed to look at Arthur in such a manner, but he was glad for it. Before when talking about this, he'd had Merlin there, a hand in his and wide eyes focused on him, as if he was the only person in the world. Lancelot's look was similar, but his was focused on Arthur's intentions rather than the buried meaning.
"For Merlin," Arthur said quickly, unafraid to meet Lancelot's challenging stare. "So Merlin can be safe and given what he deserves."
And though Lancelot was just a knight, a common man who had come to Camelot's call for help (Merlin's call, because Merlin had thought their plan through while Arthur had been shattered on the ground) and served a man he could so easily hate, Arthur needed his approval. He needed to know that what he wanted for Merlin wasn't a stupid dream, that he could - they could - restore magic to Albion.
"Of course Sire," Lancelot said, a smile slipping onto his face. His eyes softened and he nodded. "I assume we're keeping this from Merlin?"
Arthur cocked an eyebrow, relief flooding through him. "Of course, he got to keep his secrets, why shouldn't we have a bit of fun too?"
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to the world that never really let you be
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Lancelot turned away from Arthur, his mind swimming in thought. He'd been given his orders, odd ones considering where they were, but it brought a true smile to Lancelot's face, the first time he'd been able to smile in front of Arthur since they'd won Camelot back.
It wasn't that he disliked Arthur, on the contrary he was a good man and Lancelot respected him greatly. He considered himself a friend to the prince, but his loyalties had to lie with Merlin too. If there was ever a choice, Lancelot would have thrown his gauntlet down for Merlin, despite all costs, because no one else would, not really. Even Lancelot didn't know the extent to which Merlin had sacrificed himself time and time again,
Even though he didn't know exactly how much Arthur knew (had Merlin told him the full story or had Arthur seen something? Had Merlin just let it slip or had they both faced up to their fears?), it was clear he knew something. It wasn't Lancelot's place to judge whatever had happened between them or what should and shouldn't be said, but he was now in a position where he could help two people he respected.
They'd all been on the same side before, but the side had been twisted slightly. There had been the cold truth, the uncomfortable truth that Merlin was the real hero and the one to save them all, time and time again, and then there had been the image. The image of lies and clouded judgements that Lancelot hadn't agreed with, but it hadn't been his place to seek.
He knew what it felt like to harbour a secret that could get you hurt, though the revelation of his own secret had merely caused his exile. Merlin's secret was a thousand times worse, of course, and he'd done so much, risked so much, that Lancelot couldn't compare to him, not really. No one could. No one was loyal to Merlin in the same way they were loyal to Arthur and Uther and Lancelot had sworn to protect his friend, the one man who had saved them all.
(And that was just scratching the surface; what had Merlin done that he didn't know about?)
He hadn't been there for Merlin when he could have been. It wasn't a regret, but Merlin had been through a lot and the only person who had been through almost all of it too was Arthur. If he knew about the magic now, there were no two better people to support each other.
Lancelot had chosen not to be there for Merlin before, but so much had changed since then. No longer was he a peasant, Arthur was practically king (in all but name), even Merlin was opening up about his secrets... perhaps it was time to accept his own faults. He had to accept that he'd left Guinevere, accept that he couldn't run away from anyone anymore and accept that he'd got what he'd wanted and that it wasn't suddenly going to be ripped away.
He could start by mending the crack between him and Arthur. They both loved Gwen, but Lancelot knew Arthur was a good man, one of the best considering what he was trying to do for Merlin. If it was losing, he could accept defeat from his friend.
The training ground was much as he'd left it, some knights training off to the side while his 'group' were clustered around Percival, still laughing at his strength. They weren't segregated, though it may look it, but Leon needed to train them all up to Camelot's standard and so had been teaching them separately before they'd join the main army.
He went to Gwaine first. He was set a slight way apart from the others, on the ground in the sun. He smiled as Lancelot approached, eyes drifting back to where Percival was now attempting to pull his weapon out.
"I'm glad that one's on our team," he said, cocking a grin as he shifted to look at Lancelot properly. "You look serious, has something happened?"
Although Gwaine seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of person, Lancelot knew there was more to him. He didn't hide behind a persona, but he wasn't just a drunkard who liked to laugh. He was noble down to the core, a good and honest man who had given it his all time and time again. And, most importantly, he'd pick up his sword and run to be there if Lancelot even so much as suggested a friend was in trouble.
"Nothing bad," Lancelot replied. "Just... how do you feel about magic?"
He'd lowered his voice considerably, aware that even if Gwaine turned around and blurted out that he was a sorcerer, they were still in Camelot and these issues could get a man killed just for whispering about views.
"Are we speaking on or off record?" Gwaine asked, glancing around them as he shifted closer.
"Off record," was the quick reply and Lancelot watched as Gwaine nodded, looking down at the ground.
"I was raised outside of Camelot and I've seen a lot of things. Magic... it doesn't bother me." He frowned, "Well at least the non-evil, non-murdering kind. I'm not too fond of the things that are going to eat me, though some of them provide quite a fun challenge." He gave a small chuckle, but the smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes and Lancelot knew the jokes were over for now.
"Even if I didn't approve of magic, I don't agree with Uther's policies." Gwaine's eyes were sharp for a moment, as if judging Lancelot. Lancelot let him, staring back unabashedly. He had nothing to hide, especially not from a friend.
"But then again Uther banished me so I might not in best favour of anything he decrees," Gwaine said, smiling widely.
"Would you support a new decree, one to return magic?" Lancelot pushed. He had to know these answers because Arthur and Merlin needed them. That was the reason why he'd come back - to help a friend who needed it.
It didn't matter that he couldn't love Guinevere or hadn't done everything right in the past, he could do great things now. They all owed Merlin and, just as he had given them their lives, they'd give him his freedom.
Gwaine's eyes were wary as he stared at Lancelot. Unsure of what exactly Gwaine was looking for, he remained still, holding eye contact.
"I would," he said at last, nodding curtly. Lancelot clasped his shoulder, whispering his thanks as he stood.
He wouldn't be able to talk to all of the knights now, but he could get away with discussing the issue with Leon without rousing interest. He had to get each of them on their own or else it was pointless.
Percival's axe had finally been retrieved from the ground and so Leon turned easily when Lancelot called his name.
"Can I ask you something?" Leon nodded to the words, leading them a small way apart from the group. It drew curious looks, but it was easy to assume they were talking tactics rather than illegal practices.
"Do you believe magic is evil?" He asked, watching as Leon's face lost its smile, drawing into thoughtfulness.
It was a while before he replied, but it didn't trouble Lancelot. Leon was the kind of person who thought his answers through thoroughly, evaluating a situation. It was what placed him in high regard with the knights and even the king, but it also meant he had more reason to believe against magic than towards it, having served under Uther his whole life and aware of the dangers of magic.
"I believe that magic can be evil," he began, darting a questioning look to Lancelot.
"But..." he prompted Leon gently, knowing that there was more to what he'd said.
"But I owe magic my life." There, plain and simple; an acknowledgement that it could be used for good. "If the druids hadn't let me drink from the Cup of Life, I'd be dead."
Lancelot nodded. Wasn't it so like Uther to take what he wanted from the magical community, thinking he could keep it better hidden than even the druids. What had he wanted the Cup for? To place in in the vaults away from view and to gather dust. What had the druids wanted? To help people, to heal and save them.
Where was Uther's malicious sorcerer in that?
"Would you agree to bringing it back?" Lancelot questioned and looked away as Leon shot him a sharp look, eyes narrowed, slightly challengingly.
"What do you mean?" he said neutrally, crossing his arms and looking around.
"Would you support a proposal to allow magic back in the land?" Lancelot asked again, meeting Leon's gaze firmly. He wouldn't explain why he was asking, that was for Arthur and Merlin (it was their secret, not Lancelot's, to share), and let Leon and the others think what they like.
"You'll never get backing while Uther is king," Leon said curtly, almost coldly. His expression softened a little after and he leant forwards, "But if we are discussing this under Arthur, then I believe it's worth discussing it, at least."
Lancelot nodded, thanking Leon. The older knight called the others together to say it was lunch before throwing a look back to Lancelot, nodding slightly. With a smile, Lancelot knew he was giving his support, silent though it may be.
Camelot was still dangerous, but Merlin was gathering protectors without knowing it. He only had two knights to go before reporting back to Arthur, but he had a feeling he knew their answers too.
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you did always say that I was going places
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In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell Gaius of everything that had happened while the physician was bending over a naked flame. Nor was it probably the best way to tell him by blurting out 'Arthur knows I'm a sorcerer', sending Gaius into a frenzy, both to gather supplies so Merlin could run and to try and put the fire on the desk table out, courtesy of the frenzied rush and the upturned flame holder.
"Gaius!" Merlin said hurriedly, grabbing the closest goblet and throwing it over the flames.
Years ago (maybe months, it was hard to tell when exactly he'd matured enough to control impulses), Merlin would simply have cast a spell, hardly thinking. He knew better now though and besides, Gaius would probably have a heart attack if Merlin inflicted that on him as well as everything else.
"He's okay. I'm fine, Arthur..." Gaius pulled up sharply, looking Merlin dead in the eye.
"Perhaps you better explain it from the beginning then instead of barging in and scaring me half to death?" Merlin nodded slightly sheepishly as Gaius shook his head, the pair of them moving to a workbench to sit, opposite each other.
"He asked me about the scars I have, from Nimueh and the serket sting." Gaius nodded, aware of the wounds as he'd treated them personally.
"I couldn't lie to him," Merlin said, voice persistent, as if he had to convince himself that what he'd done was right. He knew Arthur didn't hate him, wouldn't betray him and have him put to death, but Gaius had always been so firm on the subject of keeping his magic secret. He was capable of making his own choices, but if he had to trade one person away of accepting him to gain another, it wasn't fair.
Gaius must have seen the emotions on his face (Merlin was never very good at lying, not really) and rapped his knuckles against the table, drawing Merlin's attention.
"You did what you felt was right. I can't say when you should have told Arthur, and you said he's okay with everything..." he trailed off, offering a smile. "You have nothing to worry about, just tell me the rest."
So Merlin did, disclosing briefly what he'd told Arthur, how Arthur had reacted (keeping out the numerous touches, the closeness they'd developed, because it was private, secret almost) and what he had planned next.
"It takes a great deal of courage to do what you did," Gaius said, a soft smile on his face. "And I believe you're right; sometimes you just have to tell the truth. There was no 'right' time for Arthur to know your secret and you took a great risk in telling him."
"I trusted him," Merlin put in. "Though there was a moment when I wondered if he'd ignore me. I needed him to listen and, well, he's not very good at that all the time is he?"
Gaius gave a bark of laughter, smile spreading to his eyes.
"I just wanted to tell you," Merlin said. Gaius nodded seriously, standing and coming to sit next to Merlin.
"I'm glad you did. You need him and I only fear that we're going to have tougher times ahead with Morgana outside of Camelot. Who knows, maybe there was a better time in the future once, but you made your decision and look how it turned out." Gaius wrapped his arms around Merlin, drawing him close.
"I feel better," Merlin admitted into Gaius' shoulder. "I mean, I can finally talk to him."
Gaius pulled back and Merlin smiled. "It's stupid, after all it's only Arthur."
Gaius shook his head, proud smile finding its way onto his face once more. Merlin had surprised him again and again, with his half-thought through plans and quick thinking, his ability to react to what was around him and, most of all, his heart and ability to see the best in people. Revealing his magic could have gone so wrong, but here he was, having trusted Arthur and he'd finally gained that trust and shed his lies.
"Of course. Just Arthur," Gaius agreed, though they both knew that - for Merlin - it would never be 'just' Arthur.
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and that you wouldn't have it any other way.
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Lancelot had to wait until training was over to talk to Elyan. They were alone in the armoury, Elyan looking over a few blades that Leon had asked him to, wondering if he'd be able to re-forge them to straighten out a slight calibration error that had a few knights handling them incorrectly.
"I can see what he means," Elyan said, handing another sword over to Lancelot, who then deposited them on a wooden table. "The balance is off. Someone's been careless and either not bothered checking then when they were made or been attacking them with hammers or something."
Elyan's mouth was twisted downwards unhappily, fully in work mode. Although he was now a knight, old habits were impossible to shake and he kept up a lot of smithy work in his spare time, mainly sorting out the remains of the armoury under Leon's instructions.
"For an immortal army, they were rather happy to waste resources," he said, running a hand over the sword rack, frowning at the numerous gaps.
"They had magic," Lancelot began tentatively, pushing the swords on the table closer together, resting against the wood.
"Yeah," Elyan agreed, testing another sword. "But magic only gets you so far doesn't it? It's just another tool to use really, like a hammer. You can do a lot of things with a hammer," he said, glancing to Lancelot with a raised eyebrow.
"You're not bothered by magic then?" came the question and Lancelot waited, hand resting behind him and against the swords, cool metal soothing and a reminder of everything he now fought for.
"I don't know really," Elyan said, shrugging and replacing the sword he held, picking up another. "I mean it's bad in some ways and I've never seen it used for good..."
"So you wouldn't agree with a decree supporting magic?" It had almost been too good, Lancelot supposed. He'd almost had all of the knights, but there was bound to be one that blankly refused.
"I'd support it," Elyan shot back furiously, turning to face Lancelot fully, sword hanging at his side. "If it stops people being executed left, right and centre for crimes they didn't commit, then I'd support it. Magic can't all be bad and the only alternative is to continue the king's hatred..."
Elyan looked away and Lancelot remembered. Gwen's father had been accused of sorcery. Uther had killed him in cold blood, as a traitor, and just because Elyan hadn't been there was no excuse for the loss a son felt. Full acceptance of magic could come later, but Elyan wanted to stop others feeling the pain he had.
"Thank you," Lancelot said, drawing a curious look from Elyan, before he returned to his work.
"I won't ask then," he muttered as Lancelot made for the door. "But just be careful. I've grown to like you, you know."
Lancelot nodded. He'd always felt as if he and Elyan had some kind of space between them, due to Gwen, and while it may still exist, they were more than just acquaintances now. They were team mates, friends, comrades... knights of Camelot. There wasn't any room for space, not now when Camelot was half-ruined still and Arthur was already planning motions of his own.
Arthur would never usurp the king, but he'd begun to truly think for himself. In asking Lancelot to do this task, he was breaking fully away from Uther's shadow and proving to the people who'd been cast aside that he was the great man everyone else preached him to be. He was offering a hand to those stuck in the darkness, doing something Uther would never allow.
The fact that he'd considered it would have been more than enough to prove to Lancelot that Arthur would make the greatest king of all, but he'd blown all expectations Lancelot had set out of the water by pushing for this on Merlin's behalf. Arthur cared, truly cared for a servant, cared for his subjects and cared for those who had persecuted him because of his father.
Now he only had Percival to see and Lancelot made a trip to the kitchens to pick up a jug of ale and some goblets, planning to spend a bit more time than just the one conversation. Percival was a good friend and they hadn't seen much of each other recently, and if there was one certainty in this life it was that Percival was an excellent man to keep on your side.
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and you did always say that one day I would suffer.
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"Cenred used magic," Percival said after Lancelot had asked his question.
Nodding his head, Lancelot replied, "To an extent, yes."
It wasn't that he cared more for Percival's opinion than the others, but he knew Percival the best. He'd lived and fought with him, laid his life in his hands and trusted him deeply. He wouldn't turn to dislike if Percival didn't agree with the reforms, but there would be a notch in their relationship, an odd gap in their friendship.
"My mother used to tell me stories of the Old Religion. Stories about gods and goddesses who would look after the land and the people." Lancelot waited, silently, as Percival spoke. He'd hardly discussed his parents before and a memory this personal would be hard to recount aloud.
"We didn't follow the Old Religion," he added gruffly, shifting in his chair with both hands wrapped around the goblet Lancelot had provided earlier in the evening. They were at the small table in the barracks they had been allocated, not too roomy, but still fine for any noble.
"I tried praying to the gods briefly, after they were slaughtered." Lancelot looked away, understanding the pain. "I didn't expect anything of it and nothing happened. Healers from nearby villages came and..."
Percival broke off, looking Lancelot in the eye. "They'd trained with a camp of Druids in the art of healing. Everyone who would have died in a few days following the attack lived thanks to their talents."
He took a sip of ale from his goblet. "I suppose if you were asking me my views on Uther using magic then I'd never agree to a reform in the law, but I know that's not going to happen."
He was sharper than most people gave him credit for and Lancelot knew Percival was more comfortable talking to him when they were alone. Despite pledging loyalties, Percival was the sort to remain quiet, watching and leaping in with his heart rather than words. He was a true friend, though perhaps a little rash at times.
"If you're asking on Arthur's behalf though... you didn't really need to come ask me." Percival smiled. "I pledged my full loyalty to the prince and I trust his judgements. As well as yours," he added, raising his glass and half-toasting Lancelot.
After that, Lancelot had all the information he'd need. He would talk to Arthur in the morning, let him know where his knights stood. It wouldn't guarantee any action to take place immediately, but it would set in place a new future, one that showed Arthur as a man who cared for every single one of his people, despite everything he had been raised to believe.
So Lancelot sat back in his chair and took a sip of ale, beginning a tale he'd heard in an inn once, about a beautiful princess locked away in a tower, guarded by a dragon. And if he thought of the princess in his mind as Guinevere... well, it was just in his mind and no one else had to know.
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you did always say that people get their pay.
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| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten |
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
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to the world that never let you be
Part Nine
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Arthur wished that he could see Lancelot at once, but as soon as he and Merlin passed the guards at Camelot's entrance, they nodded and sent a runner ahead, informing him that the king wanted to see him as soon as possible.
"Seems like a prince's work is never done," Arthur muttered to Merlin, receiving a roll of the eyes in return. He smiled a little, passing under the portcullis with Merlin a step behind.
Camelot fell into place around Arthur's shoulders then and the severity of what they'd done hung around Arthur's neck. They'd had a moment of complete honesty, of Merlin confessing to 'crimes' that could have given Arthur every right to slaughter him. Arthur would never turn against Merlin, but back in Camelot there was no way for Merlin to be acknowledged as anything more than his manservant. Though Arthur wouldn't view him in the same way, everyone else would.
Merlin didn't seek for any reward for what he'd done - he hadn't even wanted acknowledgement for anything until Arthur had forced it out of him. There was nothing that Merlin wanted. He didn't seek money or status, a rarity if Arthur had seen one (but that was Merlin all over, really, even without factoring the magic in) and there was only one thing he could want for.
But he couldn't plan that now. For now, Arthur had to watch as Merlin stomped off to visit Gaius, turning back to smile at Arthur halfway up the stairs. Arthur smiled back, unashamed. He didn't need the approval of nobility anymore - hadn't needed it for weeks now. Arthur could choose his friends and allies however he wanted and if the council could accept commoners as knights, they'd eventually come around to seeing Merlin as more.
Though they were still discovering what this 'more' entailed. It would be a long process and Arthur was under no illusions that it would be easy... but he had Merlin now. That was enough.
Uther was pleased to see him, sitting up a little in his throne, shoulders relaxing. Arthur didn't know what Morgana had said to their father (he could say it now, still with the sting of betrayal, but the words weren't forbidden any longer), but she had stripped him down, made him vulnerable and open. He could see the worry clear on Uther's face at times, and the relief when Arthur stood before him.
Morgana had tried to kill him, Merlin had said. More than once. Had she threatened his life to Uther? Said she would slaughter his son in front of him? Like the sorcerers Uther believed in rather than the true magic users? Whatever happened to Morgana now, it was of her own making. Arthur could see the choices she'd made and why she'd done the things she had... but if it was a question of forgiveness then no. Arthur would never forgive her for what she'd done.
He spent time with his father, discussing trivialities of the hunt. Uther hadn't minded that their game had been eaten the night before, merely rose a little shakily from where he sat, clasping Arthur on the shoulder and inviting him to walk.
"I know I've placed a heavy burden on you recently," Uther said as they reached the doors. "And I know that things will get harder before they get better, but..." Arthur noticed that his father's eyes were clear, shaken from whatever he'd sunk into since Morgana. "I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
The doors swung open as Uther nodded to the guards, but Arthur waited a moment, watching his father walk away. His shoulders seemed far smaller now, his stance bent and yet he'd still been able to reduce Arthur to feeling like a child again with his words. Not in an awful, gut churning feeling as usual, but unsure of himself, grabbing at praise he'd never needed before, but once he'd got it...
He couldn't build his kingdom upon anger and misery. Morgana had tried and would probably try again, but Arthur would let that go. Merlin had saved Uther time and time again, surely that was a lesson to learn from? If Merlin could save the man who persecuted his kind and would kill him, Arthur could love his father and accept the apologies for the lies he'd told.
Usually, Arthur would have headed back to his chambers after meeting Uther once coming home, but this time he had someone to talk to.
Lancelot stood on the training field, a hand cupped over his eyes as he shielded weak sunlight from his face. From his vantage point, Arthur could see the smile on his knight's face. He followed his stare over to where Percival was shaking his head and where Leon looked down to an axe embedded heavily into the ground. Evidently Percival had been a bit over enthusiastic and sunk the axe down further than he'd meant to. Arthur had a feeling none of them had been able to dig it up. Gwaine was sitting on the ground, looking highly amused by what was going on, polishing his sword slowly.
He took a moment to watch his knights, slinking into the shadows of the castle. Elyan moved forwards to clap Leon on the back, saying something that Arthur couldn't hear. It was wonderful to see how the other knights had taken to his men, despite their heritage. It was just another step forward for Arthur's Camelot, leaving behind the prejudices of the past.
Which was why he needed Lancelot right now.
He was about to make his way across the green to speak to Lancelot when the man's head turned around and he caught Arthur's gaze. Somehow, he sensed that Arthur didn't want to alert the others and slipped from the field, following Arthur as he backtracked into the castle.
"Sire?" he asked cautiously.
Lancelot was Arthur's man through and through, but Arthur knew he'd always choose Merlin first. Which was why he could trust him; that and he also knew of the magic.
"I need your help," Arthur said, glancing around and determining that they were alone. Lancelot nodded slowly.
"I need you to talk to the knights, Leon, Elyan, Percival and Gwaine." He looked around again before leaning closer, startling Lancelot a little. "To find out what their stance on magic is. I'd do it myself, but I fear I wouldn't get an honest answer."
And why should anyone give him one? To everyone bar Merlin, he was Uther's son to a tee, including stance and hatred on magic.
"And what is the answer you wish to hear Sire?" Lancelot asked, equally quietly. His eyes were guarded and Arthur knew he would defend Merlin to the last should Arthur's intentions prove against him.
This reassured him. Lancelot was too good a man. He had his vices - they all did after all - but he was loyal and willing to risk everything, even his life, to protect a friend. Somehow it didn't feel like losing Gwen when he knew Lancelot would be there for her, and Merlin for himself.
"It has to be kept in uttermost secrecy, but I want a law proposal drawn up to be instated almost soon as I'm crowned." Arthur swallowed. This was as close as he'd ever get to telling anyone other than Merlin what he'd feel and it had to be right.
Lancelot was studying him, dark eyes directly staring at him. No one but the king was allowed to look at Arthur in such a manner, but he was glad for it. Before when talking about this, he'd had Merlin there, a hand in his and wide eyes focused on him, as if he was the only person in the world. Lancelot's look was similar, but his was focused on Arthur's intentions rather than the buried meaning.
"For Merlin," Arthur said quickly, unafraid to meet Lancelot's challenging stare. "So Merlin can be safe and given what he deserves."
And though Lancelot was just a knight, a common man who had come to Camelot's call for help (Merlin's call, because Merlin had thought their plan through while Arthur had been shattered on the ground) and served a man he could so easily hate, Arthur needed his approval. He needed to know that what he wanted for Merlin wasn't a stupid dream, that he could - they could - restore magic to Albion.
"Of course Sire," Lancelot said, a smile slipping onto his face. His eyes softened and he nodded. "I assume we're keeping this from Merlin?"
Arthur cocked an eyebrow, relief flooding through him. "Of course, he got to keep his secrets, why shouldn't we have a bit of fun too?"
.
to the world that never really let you be
.
Lancelot turned away from Arthur, his mind swimming in thought. He'd been given his orders, odd ones considering where they were, but it brought a true smile to Lancelot's face, the first time he'd been able to smile in front of Arthur since they'd won Camelot back.
It wasn't that he disliked Arthur, on the contrary he was a good man and Lancelot respected him greatly. He considered himself a friend to the prince, but his loyalties had to lie with Merlin too. If there was ever a choice, Lancelot would have thrown his gauntlet down for Merlin, despite all costs, because no one else would, not really. Even Lancelot didn't know the extent to which Merlin had sacrificed himself time and time again,
Even though he didn't know exactly how much Arthur knew (had Merlin told him the full story or had Arthur seen something? Had Merlin just let it slip or had they both faced up to their fears?), it was clear he knew something. It wasn't Lancelot's place to judge whatever had happened between them or what should and shouldn't be said, but he was now in a position where he could help two people he respected.
They'd all been on the same side before, but the side had been twisted slightly. There had been the cold truth, the uncomfortable truth that Merlin was the real hero and the one to save them all, time and time again, and then there had been the image. The image of lies and clouded judgements that Lancelot hadn't agreed with, but it hadn't been his place to seek.
He knew what it felt like to harbour a secret that could get you hurt, though the revelation of his own secret had merely caused his exile. Merlin's secret was a thousand times worse, of course, and he'd done so much, risked so much, that Lancelot couldn't compare to him, not really. No one could. No one was loyal to Merlin in the same way they were loyal to Arthur and Uther and Lancelot had sworn to protect his friend, the one man who had saved them all.
(And that was just scratching the surface; what had Merlin done that he didn't know about?)
He hadn't been there for Merlin when he could have been. It wasn't a regret, but Merlin had been through a lot and the only person who had been through almost all of it too was Arthur. If he knew about the magic now, there were no two better people to support each other.
Lancelot had chosen not to be there for Merlin before, but so much had changed since then. No longer was he a peasant, Arthur was practically king (in all but name), even Merlin was opening up about his secrets... perhaps it was time to accept his own faults. He had to accept that he'd left Guinevere, accept that he couldn't run away from anyone anymore and accept that he'd got what he'd wanted and that it wasn't suddenly going to be ripped away.
He could start by mending the crack between him and Arthur. They both loved Gwen, but Lancelot knew Arthur was a good man, one of the best considering what he was trying to do for Merlin. If it was losing, he could accept defeat from his friend.
The training ground was much as he'd left it, some knights training off to the side while his 'group' were clustered around Percival, still laughing at his strength. They weren't segregated, though it may look it, but Leon needed to train them all up to Camelot's standard and so had been teaching them separately before they'd join the main army.
He went to Gwaine first. He was set a slight way apart from the others, on the ground in the sun. He smiled as Lancelot approached, eyes drifting back to where Percival was now attempting to pull his weapon out.
"I'm glad that one's on our team," he said, cocking a grin as he shifted to look at Lancelot properly. "You look serious, has something happened?"
Although Gwaine seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of person, Lancelot knew there was more to him. He didn't hide behind a persona, but he wasn't just a drunkard who liked to laugh. He was noble down to the core, a good and honest man who had given it his all time and time again. And, most importantly, he'd pick up his sword and run to be there if Lancelot even so much as suggested a friend was in trouble.
"Nothing bad," Lancelot replied. "Just... how do you feel about magic?"
He'd lowered his voice considerably, aware that even if Gwaine turned around and blurted out that he was a sorcerer, they were still in Camelot and these issues could get a man killed just for whispering about views.
"Are we speaking on or off record?" Gwaine asked, glancing around them as he shifted closer.
"Off record," was the quick reply and Lancelot watched as Gwaine nodded, looking down at the ground.
"I was raised outside of Camelot and I've seen a lot of things. Magic... it doesn't bother me." He frowned, "Well at least the non-evil, non-murdering kind. I'm not too fond of the things that are going to eat me, though some of them provide quite a fun challenge." He gave a small chuckle, but the smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes and Lancelot knew the jokes were over for now.
"Even if I didn't approve of magic, I don't agree with Uther's policies." Gwaine's eyes were sharp for a moment, as if judging Lancelot. Lancelot let him, staring back unabashedly. He had nothing to hide, especially not from a friend.
"But then again Uther banished me so I might not in best favour of anything he decrees," Gwaine said, smiling widely.
"Would you support a new decree, one to return magic?" Lancelot pushed. He had to know these answers because Arthur and Merlin needed them. That was the reason why he'd come back - to help a friend who needed it.
It didn't matter that he couldn't love Guinevere or hadn't done everything right in the past, he could do great things now. They all owed Merlin and, just as he had given them their lives, they'd give him his freedom.
Gwaine's eyes were wary as he stared at Lancelot. Unsure of what exactly Gwaine was looking for, he remained still, holding eye contact.
"I would," he said at last, nodding curtly. Lancelot clasped his shoulder, whispering his thanks as he stood.
He wouldn't be able to talk to all of the knights now, but he could get away with discussing the issue with Leon without rousing interest. He had to get each of them on their own or else it was pointless.
Percival's axe had finally been retrieved from the ground and so Leon turned easily when Lancelot called his name.
"Can I ask you something?" Leon nodded to the words, leading them a small way apart from the group. It drew curious looks, but it was easy to assume they were talking tactics rather than illegal practices.
"Do you believe magic is evil?" He asked, watching as Leon's face lost its smile, drawing into thoughtfulness.
It was a while before he replied, but it didn't trouble Lancelot. Leon was the kind of person who thought his answers through thoroughly, evaluating a situation. It was what placed him in high regard with the knights and even the king, but it also meant he had more reason to believe against magic than towards it, having served under Uther his whole life and aware of the dangers of magic.
"I believe that magic can be evil," he began, darting a questioning look to Lancelot.
"But..." he prompted Leon gently, knowing that there was more to what he'd said.
"But I owe magic my life." There, plain and simple; an acknowledgement that it could be used for good. "If the druids hadn't let me drink from the Cup of Life, I'd be dead."
Lancelot nodded. Wasn't it so like Uther to take what he wanted from the magical community, thinking he could keep it better hidden than even the druids. What had he wanted the Cup for? To place in in the vaults away from view and to gather dust. What had the druids wanted? To help people, to heal and save them.
Where was Uther's malicious sorcerer in that?
"Would you agree to bringing it back?" Lancelot questioned and looked away as Leon shot him a sharp look, eyes narrowed, slightly challengingly.
"What do you mean?" he said neutrally, crossing his arms and looking around.
"Would you support a proposal to allow magic back in the land?" Lancelot asked again, meeting Leon's gaze firmly. He wouldn't explain why he was asking, that was for Arthur and Merlin (it was their secret, not Lancelot's, to share), and let Leon and the others think what they like.
"You'll never get backing while Uther is king," Leon said curtly, almost coldly. His expression softened a little after and he leant forwards, "But if we are discussing this under Arthur, then I believe it's worth discussing it, at least."
Lancelot nodded, thanking Leon. The older knight called the others together to say it was lunch before throwing a look back to Lancelot, nodding slightly. With a smile, Lancelot knew he was giving his support, silent though it may be.
Camelot was still dangerous, but Merlin was gathering protectors without knowing it. He only had two knights to go before reporting back to Arthur, but he had a feeling he knew their answers too.
.
you did always say that I was going places
.
In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell Gaius of everything that had happened while the physician was bending over a naked flame. Nor was it probably the best way to tell him by blurting out 'Arthur knows I'm a sorcerer', sending Gaius into a frenzy, both to gather supplies so Merlin could run and to try and put the fire on the desk table out, courtesy of the frenzied rush and the upturned flame holder.
"Gaius!" Merlin said hurriedly, grabbing the closest goblet and throwing it over the flames.
Years ago (maybe months, it was hard to tell when exactly he'd matured enough to control impulses), Merlin would simply have cast a spell, hardly thinking. He knew better now though and besides, Gaius would probably have a heart attack if Merlin inflicted that on him as well as everything else.
"He's okay. I'm fine, Arthur..." Gaius pulled up sharply, looking Merlin dead in the eye.
"Perhaps you better explain it from the beginning then instead of barging in and scaring me half to death?" Merlin nodded slightly sheepishly as Gaius shook his head, the pair of them moving to a workbench to sit, opposite each other.
"He asked me about the scars I have, from Nimueh and the serket sting." Gaius nodded, aware of the wounds as he'd treated them personally.
"I couldn't lie to him," Merlin said, voice persistent, as if he had to convince himself that what he'd done was right. He knew Arthur didn't hate him, wouldn't betray him and have him put to death, but Gaius had always been so firm on the subject of keeping his magic secret. He was capable of making his own choices, but if he had to trade one person away of accepting him to gain another, it wasn't fair.
Gaius must have seen the emotions on his face (Merlin was never very good at lying, not really) and rapped his knuckles against the table, drawing Merlin's attention.
"You did what you felt was right. I can't say when you should have told Arthur, and you said he's okay with everything..." he trailed off, offering a smile. "You have nothing to worry about, just tell me the rest."
So Merlin did, disclosing briefly what he'd told Arthur, how Arthur had reacted (keeping out the numerous touches, the closeness they'd developed, because it was private, secret almost) and what he had planned next.
"It takes a great deal of courage to do what you did," Gaius said, a soft smile on his face. "And I believe you're right; sometimes you just have to tell the truth. There was no 'right' time for Arthur to know your secret and you took a great risk in telling him."
"I trusted him," Merlin put in. "Though there was a moment when I wondered if he'd ignore me. I needed him to listen and, well, he's not very good at that all the time is he?"
Gaius gave a bark of laughter, smile spreading to his eyes.
"I just wanted to tell you," Merlin said. Gaius nodded seriously, standing and coming to sit next to Merlin.
"I'm glad you did. You need him and I only fear that we're going to have tougher times ahead with Morgana outside of Camelot. Who knows, maybe there was a better time in the future once, but you made your decision and look how it turned out." Gaius wrapped his arms around Merlin, drawing him close.
"I feel better," Merlin admitted into Gaius' shoulder. "I mean, I can finally talk to him."
Gaius pulled back and Merlin smiled. "It's stupid, after all it's only Arthur."
Gaius shook his head, proud smile finding its way onto his face once more. Merlin had surprised him again and again, with his half-thought through plans and quick thinking, his ability to react to what was around him and, most of all, his heart and ability to see the best in people. Revealing his magic could have gone so wrong, but here he was, having trusted Arthur and he'd finally gained that trust and shed his lies.
"Of course. Just Arthur," Gaius agreed, though they both knew that - for Merlin - it would never be 'just' Arthur.
.
and that you wouldn't have it any other way.
.
Lancelot had to wait until training was over to talk to Elyan. They were alone in the armoury, Elyan looking over a few blades that Leon had asked him to, wondering if he'd be able to re-forge them to straighten out a slight calibration error that had a few knights handling them incorrectly.
"I can see what he means," Elyan said, handing another sword over to Lancelot, who then deposited them on a wooden table. "The balance is off. Someone's been careless and either not bothered checking then when they were made or been attacking them with hammers or something."
Elyan's mouth was twisted downwards unhappily, fully in work mode. Although he was now a knight, old habits were impossible to shake and he kept up a lot of smithy work in his spare time, mainly sorting out the remains of the armoury under Leon's instructions.
"For an immortal army, they were rather happy to waste resources," he said, running a hand over the sword rack, frowning at the numerous gaps.
"They had magic," Lancelot began tentatively, pushing the swords on the table closer together, resting against the wood.
"Yeah," Elyan agreed, testing another sword. "But magic only gets you so far doesn't it? It's just another tool to use really, like a hammer. You can do a lot of things with a hammer," he said, glancing to Lancelot with a raised eyebrow.
"You're not bothered by magic then?" came the question and Lancelot waited, hand resting behind him and against the swords, cool metal soothing and a reminder of everything he now fought for.
"I don't know really," Elyan said, shrugging and replacing the sword he held, picking up another. "I mean it's bad in some ways and I've never seen it used for good..."
"So you wouldn't agree with a decree supporting magic?" It had almost been too good, Lancelot supposed. He'd almost had all of the knights, but there was bound to be one that blankly refused.
"I'd support it," Elyan shot back furiously, turning to face Lancelot fully, sword hanging at his side. "If it stops people being executed left, right and centre for crimes they didn't commit, then I'd support it. Magic can't all be bad and the only alternative is to continue the king's hatred..."
Elyan looked away and Lancelot remembered. Gwen's father had been accused of sorcery. Uther had killed him in cold blood, as a traitor, and just because Elyan hadn't been there was no excuse for the loss a son felt. Full acceptance of magic could come later, but Elyan wanted to stop others feeling the pain he had.
"Thank you," Lancelot said, drawing a curious look from Elyan, before he returned to his work.
"I won't ask then," he muttered as Lancelot made for the door. "But just be careful. I've grown to like you, you know."
Lancelot nodded. He'd always felt as if he and Elyan had some kind of space between them, due to Gwen, and while it may still exist, they were more than just acquaintances now. They were team mates, friends, comrades... knights of Camelot. There wasn't any room for space, not now when Camelot was half-ruined still and Arthur was already planning motions of his own.
Arthur would never usurp the king, but he'd begun to truly think for himself. In asking Lancelot to do this task, he was breaking fully away from Uther's shadow and proving to the people who'd been cast aside that he was the great man everyone else preached him to be. He was offering a hand to those stuck in the darkness, doing something Uther would never allow.
The fact that he'd considered it would have been more than enough to prove to Lancelot that Arthur would make the greatest king of all, but he'd blown all expectations Lancelot had set out of the water by pushing for this on Merlin's behalf. Arthur cared, truly cared for a servant, cared for his subjects and cared for those who had persecuted him because of his father.
Now he only had Percival to see and Lancelot made a trip to the kitchens to pick up a jug of ale and some goblets, planning to spend a bit more time than just the one conversation. Percival was a good friend and they hadn't seen much of each other recently, and if there was one certainty in this life it was that Percival was an excellent man to keep on your side.
.
and you did always say that one day I would suffer.
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"Cenred used magic," Percival said after Lancelot had asked his question.
Nodding his head, Lancelot replied, "To an extent, yes."
It wasn't that he cared more for Percival's opinion than the others, but he knew Percival the best. He'd lived and fought with him, laid his life in his hands and trusted him deeply. He wouldn't turn to dislike if Percival didn't agree with the reforms, but there would be a notch in their relationship, an odd gap in their friendship.
"My mother used to tell me stories of the Old Religion. Stories about gods and goddesses who would look after the land and the people." Lancelot waited, silently, as Percival spoke. He'd hardly discussed his parents before and a memory this personal would be hard to recount aloud.
"We didn't follow the Old Religion," he added gruffly, shifting in his chair with both hands wrapped around the goblet Lancelot had provided earlier in the evening. They were at the small table in the barracks they had been allocated, not too roomy, but still fine for any noble.
"I tried praying to the gods briefly, after they were slaughtered." Lancelot looked away, understanding the pain. "I didn't expect anything of it and nothing happened. Healers from nearby villages came and..."
Percival broke off, looking Lancelot in the eye. "They'd trained with a camp of Druids in the art of healing. Everyone who would have died in a few days following the attack lived thanks to their talents."
He took a sip of ale from his goblet. "I suppose if you were asking me my views on Uther using magic then I'd never agree to a reform in the law, but I know that's not going to happen."
He was sharper than most people gave him credit for and Lancelot knew Percival was more comfortable talking to him when they were alone. Despite pledging loyalties, Percival was the sort to remain quiet, watching and leaping in with his heart rather than words. He was a true friend, though perhaps a little rash at times.
"If you're asking on Arthur's behalf though... you didn't really need to come ask me." Percival smiled. "I pledged my full loyalty to the prince and I trust his judgements. As well as yours," he added, raising his glass and half-toasting Lancelot.
After that, Lancelot had all the information he'd need. He would talk to Arthur in the morning, let him know where his knights stood. It wouldn't guarantee any action to take place immediately, but it would set in place a new future, one that showed Arthur as a man who cared for every single one of his people, despite everything he had been raised to believe.
So Lancelot sat back in his chair and took a sip of ale, beginning a tale he'd heard in an inn once, about a beautiful princess locked away in a tower, guarded by a dragon. And if he thought of the princess in his mind as Guinevere... well, it was just in his mind and no one else had to know.
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you did always say that people get their pay.
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| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten |