Merlin Fic: And the World You Promised: Chapter Five: You Lost Your Mind in the Sound

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Five: You Lost Your Mind in the Sound

Arthur’s memories of the last few days were a bit fuzzy. He could recall Merlin telling him more about his destiny, about serving Arthur with pride. It didn’t even make sense to Arthur, but it seemed to make sense to Merlin, and whatever sense it made, it had made Arthur feel better. He’d still felt hurt, still felt betrayed, still felt anger far beyond what he normally felt, but he had been too far gone into pain to care about those things. It had just been nice to hear Merlin telling him.

The last thing Arthur clearly remembered was that they were on the horses and riding, Merlin had smiled at him and it had all been all right there for a moment. But after that Arthur remembered flashes only, a jolt in his chest, deep, unearthly words, a woman screaming, the feel of wind rushing past him, a wetness in the air, bright lights, then a sense of invasion in his body. It had hurt, but it had felt like a good hurt, like when a wound was cleansed. Through it all he’d had a strange sense of closeness, like Merlin was in his thoughts, there with Arthur the whole time he’d been hurting. Then it was over and he’d opened his eyes just as Merlin had been changing back from an older man to a younger one and extending a hand to help him up.

Arthur couldn’t really describe how he’d felt after that. He’d felt younger, renewed, like every part of his body had been made whole. It wasn’t just his wound that had healed, it was almost as if every scar he’d ever received, every injury, all the aching bones from old breaks, were completely and utterly made new. He still had his scars, he’d checked the ones he could currently reach, but he didn’t feel like they were there anymore. It was worrisome to him. He’d felt uncomfortable about having accepted such a magical gift, wondering what it meant, though it wasn’t like he’d had too much of a choice in the matter.

Merlin hadn’t said much, just asked him how he felt, turning as skittish as a rabbit now that Arthur was back to being able to hit him over the head or something like that. Merlin's reaction had just served to confuse Arthur more because he knew now that Merlin was an almighty sorcerer who could kill Arthur with his little pinky and yet the idiot still seemed to think Arthur had the power of life and death over him. It was infuriating because it was Arthur who was supposed to be feeling afraid and nervous now that the truth was out. Trust Merlin to never do anything in the right way.

They’d crossed the lake in silence and, once off the island, some of Arthur’s jittery feelings left him. He supposed the island that had felt so eerie to him was probably as natural as breathing to Merlin. Come to think of it, every time they’d been somewhere magical, somewhere with links to sorcery, Merlin had either been completely relaxed or hyper aware of everything. The thought just made Arthur angry again so he’d gritted his teeth and said nothing.

On the other shore was a welcome sight. Someone other than Merlin. Arthur would have welcomed anyone but Morgana at that point. He simply wanted a place where he could be alone and think without Merlin’s face hovering into view or a mortal injury clouding his thoughts. Was that too much to ask?

It was one of his knights judging by the chainmail, Percival by the height.

“Sire,” Percival said, splashing into the shallows and clasping arms with Arthur. “You’re alive.”

“Apparently,” Arthur said, feeling weary beyond all measure. “How fares Camelot?”

“Camelot is well, Sire. The Queen is handling everything with Leon at her side. We only despaired for you.”

“Well, despair no longer,” Arthur said, feeling that the only good thing about all of this was that he got to go see Guinevere now.

“Gwaine!” Merlin said, running past Arthur to where a prone form was lying on the ground.

They had a whispered conversation while Arthur turned to Percival.

“What happened?”

“Morgana,” Percival said, tight-lipped, and Arthur guessed there was a little more to that story, but he didn’t really have time to think about it because Merlin was turning to him, a limp look of pleading on his face and Arthur felt a new surge of irritation.

“Well, go on then. Do you really think I’m such a hypocrite as all that, Merlin?”

Arthur wasn’t sure he wanted the responsibility of being Merlin’s conscience or whatever the hell it was Merlin always seemed to need permission from him for now. If this was Merlin’s way of apologizing, Arthur didn’t like it. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, or if they couldn’t, for Merlin to start acting like Arthur expected sorcerers to act. As it was, he wasn’t getting either thing.

But he was fascinated because watching Merlin heal Gwaine was like nothing Arthur had ever seen before. Not being a part of it himself, and being fully conscious, really helped him see the full extent of what Merlin’s powers were. It was incredible. Merlin drew himself up, foreign words dripping from his tongue like they were native to him, golden light flashing in his eyes. There was no other physical sign that he was doing anything, but somehow Arthur could feel the power flowing from Merlin. It was humbling in a way to think that the man who stood there with so much under his control had put himself at Arthur’s beck and call for ten years.

Gwaine convulsed and then black liquid seemed to seep out of his skin, flowing out of his armor to pool on the ground in a foul looking pool. Percival was standing next to Arthur, utterly dumbfounded, gaping at Merlin, hand pulling out his sword. Arthur took pity on him.

“Merlin has magic. He healed me, now he’s healing Gwaine. There is nothing to fear.”

“Sire?” Percival said, looking at him in confusion.

Arthur couldn’t blame him, he felt like that himself, but he needed to sort things out himself before he started helping his knights know how to feel about this new development in their lives.

“We’ll explain later,” he said. “For now I’d like to get back to Camelot and see my wife.”

Percival nodded his head and went back to staring. Gwaine was peaceful now, his breathing normal. He appeared to be sleeping. Arthur let his shoulders slump a little bit in relief. He’d lost too many of his knights, his friends, to watch one more slip away from him. Gwaine may have been one of the most annoying people Arthur had ever met, second only to Merlin, but Gwaine had also saved Arthur’s life, fought at his side, and proven his worth ten times over.

Merlin stood up and swayed a little bit. Arthur moved to catch him before he thought. Merlin glanced up at him, seeming surprised, but grateful.

“Touch out of character there, aren’t you, my lord?” he asked, his skin a bit gray.

“Can’t very well have you faint like a woman after doing something as simple as healing two people on the brink of death,” Arthur retorted, not wanting to examine it any further than that.

Merlin scowled at him, but sat down and took the water skin handed to him by a silent, watchful Percival.

“You know all of you would have been poisoned to death on our search for the dragon egg if it hadn’t been for me,” he muttered.

Percival’s eyes went wide and then he laughed, all the tension gone from his shoulders.

“And here I just thought it was your cooking that did it,” he said, hitting Merlin’s shoulder causing the other man to wince and rub at it.

Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes. Percival had moments ago found out that Merlin was not who he said he was and now he just laughed like it was nothing. Arthur couldn’t fathom it. Where was the distrust, the fear, the anger that Arthur himself kept feeling no matter what happened?

“Can he travel?” he asked curtly, interrupting and pointing to Gwaine.

Merlin’s smile faded and he nodded.

“We’ve only the one horse,” Percival said.

“And I’m pretty sure Morgana took out all her frustration on ours,” Merlin said. "Not that it matters since they were far off anyway."

“Then we’d best put Gwaine on the horse and the rest of us can walk,” Arthur said. “Can you travel, Merlin?”

He kept his tone business-like, formal, not wanting to get into any conversations especially with Percival there. Anything that needed to be said would be said between him and Merlin alone, once Arthur finally had the chance to wrap his head around the events of the last few days.

“Yes, Sire,” Merlin said, already helping Gwaine up and giving him to Percival, who carried the prone form to the horse with ease, giving Arthur and Merlin curious looks.

“How is he?” Percival asked Merlin anxiously once they got going.

“He’ll live,” Merlin said, looking a little anxious himself. “But healing spells aren’t my strongest suit and I’d already spent a lot of energy healing Arthur. I was only able to force the venom out and heal the largest of the internal injuries. Once I’ve rested I can do some more maybe, but sleep is really the best thing for him.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked, wanting to focus on anything but Merlin right now.

“Morgana captured us,” Percival said slowly. “She tied me up and interrogated Gwaine using the Nathair. Like Elyan.”

“Where does she keep getting them?” Merlin said in exasperation, almost to himself. “I swear her affinity for snakes is the most disturbing thing about her. No one’s seen any of these magical creatures for years and Morgana becomes High Priestess and they just start breeding like rabbits.”

Arthur almost wanted to laugh, but he didn’t.

“So, you’re a sorcerer?” Percival asked gingerly, glancing at Arthur.

Arthur didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to. He didn’t know why people kept looking at him like he was about to explode. And if Percival wanted to ask questions, well, they were probably questions Arthur himself wanted to ask but refused to.

“Yeah. A warlock,” Merlin said, also looking at Arthur.

What was the matter with everybody? Did they really view him like some sort of timed explosion, just waiting for the right trigger to explode?

“There’s a difference?” asked Percival.

“Well, probably not,” Merlin said, shrugging. “It’s what Kilgharrah always calls me; I guess that’s what I’ve gotten used to thinking of myself as.”

“Kilgharrah?”

Merlin winced like he hadn’t meant to mention it. Great, more secrets. Just what Arthur needed.

“I’ll explain later. Basically, I was born with magic.”

“That’s impossible,” Arthur cut in, unable to stop himself.

“That’s me,” Merlin said with a faint attempt at sounding jaunty. “Impossible. But it’s the truth, Arthur. I didn’t choose to be this way. Like I told you before, I was given a gift and a destiny. For you.”

Arthur looked at him for a long moment and kept walking, trying to take it all in.

“Don’t let me stop your conversation,” he finally said.

Merlin’s face fell, but he glanced back over to Percival who rose to the occasion manfully.

“You never studied?” he asked.

“No, magic comes as naturally to me as breathing. I was moving objects around before I could walk. I only learned actual spells after I came to Camelot. At first I thought I’d come to the wrong place, but then I quickly came to see how much Arthur needed me.” Arthur snorted but didn’t say anything. Merlin went on, as if encouraged. “Saved his life twice the first week I was there.”

“Once,” Arthur said, unable to stop himself.

“Do you really think those snakes came alive on Valiant’s shield all by themselves?” Merlin asked.

Arthur’s head shot over to Merlin and then he glared for a long while. Talking to Merlin would just encourage him and Arthur didn’t want to get into a long conversation about the past ten years and how nothing had actually happened the way he thought it had. It was just a reminder that he couldn’t trust the infuriating oaf walking beside him.

Camelot was not far and they only stopped for the night because Merlin said Gwaine needed rest and warmth. Merlin gathered firewood and then started a fire without even looking at the wood. Arthur felt a chill just thinking about it. Percival looked spooked again and it was a long night of awkward silence broken only by occasional snoring from Gwaine. Arthur never slept though he thought that Percival eventually dropped off when his turn at watch was over.

In the morning Merlin pronounced Gwaine much better and himself completely restored.

“Do you want me…to try healing him some more?” he asked hesitantly.

“Will it do him harm not to?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Merlin said, shaking his head. “It would just speed up the process. Gaius could well take over from here or any healer.”

“Then let’s press on,” Arthur said. “I’d like to get back and reassure everyone we’re not all dead.”

Percival looked up guiltily at that and Arthur made a mental note to find out exactly what he and Gwaine had been doing when they ran into Morgana. There were so many things Arthur needed to do. He had every confidence in Guinevere’s ability to put Camelot back together after the battle, but since he was alive, those responsibilities ultimately fell on his shoulders. There was the supplies situation, the injured men, the patrol and guard duties, the running of the palace, the meetings with the council, the training of the knights, and the preparations for whatever revenge Morgana was going to seek. All of that plus dealing with Merlin’s secret made him wish he could go hide somewhere for a very long time.

They reached Camelot not long afterward with no incidents for which Arthur was grateful. A call sounded from the guards on the gate when they entered and Arthur knew they would be expected. Horses were brought for them when it was seen they only had the one and the people crowded the streets cheering for their King’s return. Arthur waved, acknowledging them as cheerfully as he could. It was hard when he was so mentally weary. They made their way as fast as possible up the town into the citadel.

Arthur truly smiled for the first time since the battle when he saw Guinevere running toward him down the steps. He jumped off his horse and met her halfway, colliding in a hug big enough that his momentum swept her off her feet for a second or two. He didn’t care that half of Camelot was watching them; he simply needed to feel her again.

“I’d lost you,” she said, muffled against his chest, and he looked down at her, saddened to see tears on her face.

“You will always have me,” he promised. “No matter how long I am gone.”

“I’m not quite sure that makes sense,” she said, laughing slightly, but she kissed him then, and he didn’t think anything further.

It was not a long embrace because there were other things to think of, but Arthur had needed it more than anything. Guinevere turned to Merlin and hugged him almost as tightly as Arthur.

“I need to breathe, Gwen,” Merlin said, looking embarrassed.

“Thank you,” she said so significantly that Arthur and Merlin looked at her in confusion.

Arthur blinked and put the confusion away because soon he’d have to tell Guinevere about Merlin’s deception and then it wouldn’t matter.

“Merlin!” called Gaius, pushing his way through the knights, all trying to reach their King.

Merlin’s face burst into a smile so large Arthur thought it would split off his face.

“I did it!” he called to Gaius and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” Gaius said, giving him a hug.

The courtyard was turning into a reunion melee and Arthur wanted to get inside as soon as possible. Gwaine still needed medical attention.

“Gaius, your skills as a physician would be most appreciated,” he said briskly.

Gaius nodded and directed Percival, who was carrying Gwaine, up the steps to his rooms. Merlin made to follow them and then turned to Arthur.

“C-can I go?” he asked hesitantly. “Do you want to…talk?”

Arthur put his hands to his face and made a split second decision. He’d be fooling himself if he kept on acting like Merlin was dangerous to them all. It was a personal betrayal he was feeling, not something that put Camelot in danger.

“I don’t have time for dissecting my feelings on the matter even if you do,” Arthur said curtly. “I need to see to Camelot. After you’ve helped Gaius, report to the throne room.”

Merlin’s face paled and he nodded, turning away.

“Arthur?” Guinevere asked, looking worried.

“Merlin!” Arthur called in exasperation. “It’s not a trial, you idiot. I just need an explanation and that’s where I’m likely to be for the next few hours.”

“I-I knew that,” Merlin said, a faint smirk on his face before he hurried away.

“Arthur, what is going on?” Guinevere asked him. “Obviously the two of you are fighting and there’s only one thing I can imagine it’s about.”

Arthur’s heart sank.

“Did you know?” he asked her, not wanting to hear the answer if it was yes.

“No,” she said gently, taking his hand and walking with him up the steps. “Gaius just told me. Do not think Merlin would have told me and not told you.”

“He didn’t tell either of us,” Arthur snapped. “How is that supposed to make me feel? What am I supposed to think about that? That even my own servants don’t trust me? That everyone thinks I’m a bloodthirsty tyrant? That no matter how much I trusted him, he obviously didn’t trust me?”

She opened her mouth to answer him but they were interrupted by a swarm of councilors and guards and people wanting his attention and the only thing that kept his sanity was her firm grip on his hand while he answered questions, gave orders, listened to reports, and promised to meet the council in half an hour.

Alone in their room, he slammed the doors and then slid down them to sit on the floor with his head in his hands.

“I feel lost without him,” Arthur said, finally admitting what he’d been avoiding since he’d found out.

Slowly he felt her warm arms circle round him and he leaned into them in relief.

“He is your closest friend,” she said soothingly.

“How can he be when he was hiding this from me?” he asked, feeling tears rising in his eyes when he didn’t want them to.

“We’ll just have to ask him,” she said. “I have questions of my own, believe me.”

And there she was, his Queen, always understanding, always knowing what to say. Arthur gripped her strength and held on it, needing to know he wasn’t the only one who felt this way, who felt betrayed, who wanted to know why. He held onto her for a few precious moments before he felt her gently tug on his upper body, getting him to rise.

He started to question why, but she put a finger to his lips and led him to the inner part of their room. She started to undo his armor, unbuckling his sword and laying it on the table. Her deft fingers loosened all the clasps faster than Merlin’s ever had, not saying a word. Arthur watched her, the breath leaving his body slowly. She was graceful, her movements confident. His armor joined his sword on the table, then she eased the chainmail over his chest. Her only pause was when she saw how bloodied his shirt was underneath it, but then she moved on, taking off the shirt and putting it with the other unclean clothes. Gently she pushed him backwards till he was sitting on the bed.

He felt dirty and unwashed sitting there while she practically glowed in front of him, regal in purple and gold, her hair hanging down her back in long curls. She knelt in front of him, pulling off his boots and socks, placing them neatly to the side before rising and disappearing into the other room and reappearing with a bowl and towel in her hands.

He started to speak again, but she hushed him with a look and carefully began to wash his body, her hands skimming over his skin with tenderness and strength. She bit her lip when she reached the part of his side where Mordred’s sword had pierced him. He looked at it himself for the first time. There was nothing but a scar there now, old and faded, yet bright white, Arthur guessed it would never fade. Once she washed all the dried blood off, the scar stood out in contrast to his already pale skin.

She placed her hand over it and he placed his hand over hers, and they were there for some minutes, listening to each other breathing. She put her forehead against his and then straightened, leaving again, returning with a clean shirt and pair of breeches.

“We’ll get you a proper bath after,” she promised him and he’d missed the sound of her voice.

“Will you be joining me?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood, but her eyes darkened and she kissed him hard.

“Always,” she said, before leaving again and letting him dress himself the rest of the way.

Arthur swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his head again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

When he was ready again he found her waiting for him and they walked arm in arm to the council.

She sat by Arthur as Leon greeted him, relief evident in the knight’s eyes. Percival, Gaius, and Merlin were absent, presumably still attending to Gwaine, but all of Arthur’s other trusted advisors were there, as well as the long standing members of the council.

Arthur didn’t have time to listen to tedious, drawn out complaints, so he started the meeting with a simple speech.

“I appreciate you all may have questions or concerns, but I have fought a hard battle and need some rest and time to review everything that has happened in my absence. I am confident in any decision the Queen may have made while I was away. Please prepare reports on anything you think may need to come to my direct attention. In the meantime, I want scouts and patrols on all our borders to watch for any attack made by Morgana’s men. I want the walls re-manned and a full disclosure on our food supplies. Please send all funeral arrangements to me as well. Now, I will hear questions on any immediate matters, but only if they are immediate.” Arthur sat down and nobody moved. Arthur nodded; satisfied he had deterred them from their usual stream of complaints. “Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you later. You are dismissed; Leon, stay a moment.”

They all filed out, Leon lingering behind along with Guinevere.

“I’m glad to see you, Sire,” Leon said.

Arthur smiled and pulled the man in for a brief hug.

“I’m glad as well. It was a close one. Thank you for your leadership.”

“It’s what I can do,” Leon said. “Though it was the Queen who did most of it.”

“You’re being too modest, Leon,” Guinevere said wryly. “You’re not the one who had to be carried home.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked, voice rising.

“I fainted, Arthur,” she said. “No wounds, just lack of sleep. I’ve slept, I’ve rested, I’ve eaten, I’m fine.”

He took her hand in his and looked her up and down. She certainly looked fine, but he decided to worry a little bit and make sure she took it easy for the next few days.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, eying her suspiciously and she made a face at him. “Now, Leon, what don’t I know?”

“There’s one patrol we haven’t heard back from,” Leon said. “They went out looking for you three days ago and I haven’t received any word. East of the White Mountains was their last known position. The Saxons were heavy in that area since it was supposed to be where you were.”

“Are we secure enough here to be able to send another to look for them?” Arthur asked.

“I believe so,” Leon replied. “Now that you’re back we’ve sent riders to all the other search parties, so they’ll be on their way home.”

“Then do it,” Arthur said. “I don’t want any more men dying on my account. I am sure Morgana will plan something since losing the battle and not being able to watch me die. The last I heard of her, she was severely unhinged.”

“We will keep a close eye,” Leon said.

“There is another thing that happened in your absence,” Guinevere said, her normally placid expression strained.

And Arthur listened to hers and Leon’s explanation of Eira’s treachery and subsequent execution. He had only just time to feel how hard it must have been for her when the door creaked open and Merlin stuck his head in, looking like a naughty child about to get reprimanded for stealing sweets. Or an illegal sorcerer about to get his head chopped off for crimes of treason.

“Merlin!” Leon said, striding forward. “You’re the hero of the hour it would seem.”

“That remains to be seen,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

“It wasn’t anything,” Merlin said and Arthur had to wonder if Merlin’s modesty had only ever been a way to cover up a worse crime than pride.

“I’m anxious to hear your story,” Leon said, “but I have duties to perform at the moment.”

“Merlin and I have things to discuss anyway,” Arthur said.

Leon nodded and made his exit. Guinevere looked at Arthur and studied him for a moment.

“I shall be going as well,” she said. Arthur didn’t argue. She knew he didn’t care if she was there and she obviously thought they needed to be alone for this, whatever it was going to be. “I am anxious to see how Gwaine is getting along.”

“He’s fine,” Merlin assured her.

“I am also anxious to speak with you when we can,” she told Merlin, squeezing his arm in passing.

Merlin simply nodded, his eyes on Arthur, watching him intently.

Then they were alone. The two of them. As they had been countless times before. Only now Arthur didn’t know what to say.

Merlin fidgeted, moving from one foot to the other, eyes roaming everywhere in the hall, and Arthur sighed.

“I want an explanation,” he said simply. “Tell me why. Just tell me…everything. Only then will I be able to decide anything, to know how to go about any of this.”

He sat down and gestured for Merlin to do the same. Merlin sat down; face set now that Arthur had spoken.

“Okay. I have practiced magic since the day I was born, certainly since I came to Camelot. I’ve used it only to do what I thought was right, only to protect you. I lied because it was necessary. I’m sorry. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. Not really.”

“What does that even mean, Merlin?” Arthur asked, throwing his hands up. “Stop being vague. Give me details.”

“Magic is who I am,” Merlin said, bracing his hands on the table and looking Arthur in the eye. “I can’t help it. But it was outlawed. That’s like saying I shouldn’t exist, that I’m evil and wrong simply for being born. It hurts, Arthur, it hurts a lot, and I lived here in fear. My mother sent me to Camelot because she was afraid I would come to harm in Ealdor. She knew Gaius could help me. So I came. On my first day a man was executed for doing magic. Five minutes later Gaius fell and I saved his life with magic. Tell me, what was I supposed to do but hide it? Gaius practically exploded with fear when he learned that I had magic. He made me promise not to use it, lectured and scolded and reminded me every day.”

“But you used it anyway,” Arthur said. “Why would you stay in Camelot when you found out it was even more dangerous than Ealdor?”

Merlin laughed and looked at Arthur in exasperation.

“You, you clotpole. I already told you I have a destiny. I have tried to run from it before, believe me, but I can’t. My destiny is to serve you. And that’s all I want to do.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a divine decree or something you could show me?” Arthur asked. “It’s a little bit weird to have someone tell you they were born to polish your armor. A little George actually.”

“Promise me you won’t go off on a tangent about this,” Merlin said, “but I suppose you should also know I’m a Dragonlord.”

“What?”

Arthur was pretty sure his jaw dropped to the floor and he hazily wondered how many other surprises this conversation would have in store for him. Apparently just admitting to sorcery didn’t really cover all the secrets when it came to Merlin.

“I just am, okay? I’ll tell you why and how later, just go with it.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said warningly.

“I promise I will,” Merlin said. “But when I first got here I could hear someone calling to me. It was the Great Dragon under the castle. I visited him and it was he who told me that I had a destiny and that it was to help you unite the land of Albion and bring magic back.”

“A dragon told you…”

Arthur made sure his incredulity showed.

“Well, I didn’t believe him at first and I didn’t want to. I said people could kill you all they wanted. But when that sorceress tried to kill you I just…”

“Saved my life.”

“And then wound up being your servant. It took awhile, but it just started being easier after that. Something would happen, I’d save your life, you’d get the credit for saving Camelot, and everything worked out.”

Something did occur to Arthur then. It was true. Even if he didn’t know the particulars, Merlin had to have used his magic to save Camelot time and time again and yet remained in the shadows.

“All these years, Merlin. You never once sought any credit."

"That's not why I do it," Merlin said quietly.

“Why do you do it? And don’t use the word destiny.”

“For you,” Merlin said, not looking at him.

Arthur felt a rush of affection flood through him and he’d give anything to be able to say he understood why, that he was grateful, that there wasn’t a problem. Some of which was true, but there was a problem and Arthur couldn’t ignore it.

“Continue,” he said, trying not to let his voice break.

“The Druids call me Emrys,” Merlin said, sounding relieved. “They have prophesies written about me, about us. Everywhere we went people kept telling me I was supposed to be at your side protecting you. Either that or telling me that they would kill you even though I was at your side protecting you. Both happened on a regular basis. Every Druid we ever met was yammering inside my head about destiny; you can see why I use the word so much. Kilgharrah, who’s the Great Dragon, by the way, used it so often I wanted to beat him to death. The Gate Keeper, the Fisher King, the Bridge Keeper, Mordred, the Sidhe, the crystals, the list goes on.”

Arthur thought back to all the magical people they’d met over the years. A recent memory pulled at his mind. An old woman, so odd-looking, disrespectful in such a familiar way…

“What did the Dolma say to you?” Arthur asked, acting on a hunch.

“Um…” Merlin said, shifting uneasily in his chair.

“I knew it!” Arthur said, laughing and clapping his hands together. “You turned into a woman!”

“Only cause you already knew my other disguise,” Merlin mumbled, turning bright red. “Gaius was the one who decided, not me.”

“No wonder she – you - were so mad when I didn’t notice you weren’t there.”

“My life could have been at stake, you know.”

“Merlin, you shan’t distract me from the fact that you turned into a woman,” Arthur said, brief mirth overshadowing everything. “You…you preened when I said I recognized you.”

“I was playing a part, I have to do that sometimes,” Merlin protested.

Arthur sobered again immediately because that was the problem, wasn’t it? How could he ever be sure he knew the real Merlin?

“So was nothing true?” he asked.