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Merlin, as Dorma, could feel the relief rolling off Arthur in waves as he holds Gwen close in the water. Merlin lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, thankful that his power had been enough to break the spell holding onto Gwen’s soul. Gwen is quiet, much unlike her, content to listen to Arthur’s voice as he holds onto her. They walk to the shore, clothes dripping wet but neither seem to mind.
“I owe you a great debt, we both do, if there’s ever anything I could do in return. Perhaps a new dress,” Arthur thanks, holding Gwen close still.
Gwen throws him an exasperated look, “Arthur,” She chastises, looking offended for Dorma.
Merlin holds in his laugh at the question.
“She likes clothes,” Arthur explains to Gwen, who glances over at Dorma with a confused look.
“There is one thing,” Merlin nods, hiding his smirk by biting his lower lip carefully.
Arthur, ever the fair King, straightens, “Name it.”
“Remember what saved your queen. Magic and sorcery.”
Arthur swallows, looking unsure now, “It was also sorcery that bewitched her”
“There is no evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of men,” Merlin explains, taking the opportunity to build a bridge between Camelot and sorcery, fragile and small but there, “My request is that you remember this.”
Arthur nods, “You have my word.”
With that, they turn to go. Merlin watches them for a moment, confused. Surely Arthur will remember and demand to know where he is? But they don’t turn back.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Merlin raises his eyebrows, hands on his hips, annoyed.
Arthur glances around him, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword and looking between Gwen and Mordred (of all people), “I don’t think so.”
Merlin huffs, “Very well, as you were.”
Arthur doesn’t need telling twice, setting off once more with his Queen and the man destined to kill him. Merlin wishes he could appreciate the irony in that if he wasn’t so bloody angry. He watches them until he can’t see them properly for the rocks, turning around to find his bag again and change back to himself once more. He changes into his normal clothes, tossing the itchy dress on the ground beside his bag. Maybe someone passing through would make more use of it. He settles back against the rock, closing his eyes. He can feel his magic pulsing under the surface of his skin, tired from the amount he drew from it but ready should he need it again.
Merlin knows he should move, Morgana and Aithusa are around and he isn’t sure what Mordred did to evade her, but he sits there still. He looks out over the lake, still and silent now, content in it healing of Gwen. Merlin wishes he could be so content. His mind wanders to Arthur, to the amount he has done for him, to the loyalty he has shown time and time again. Just for him to, what? Not even remember his existence on a quest as dangerous as this? But then, why is he still so surprised when Arthur treats him like he is, just a servant?
Because sometimes he acts like you’re his friend too
It’s ridiculous really. Merlin feels a quiet, bitter laugh push its way out of his mouth. His gaze returning to the water, which is lapping angrily at the shore now, clearly reacting to his magic, the sky darkening along with it. He takes a breath, trying to calm himself, pushing himself up to his feet. The last thing he needs is rain to fall if he’s to make the long walk back to Camelot alone. Merlin runs his hand through his hair, roughly.
“Left you to rot has he?” An all too familiar voice breaks through the sound of the waves, “Shame.”
Merlin’s feet are out from under him before he has a chance to say much more, back hitting painfully against a jagged rock. Morgana is standing quite a way away from him, Aithusa at her side like a loyal pet.
“Morgana, never a pleasure,” Merlin mutters, pushing himself up as she laughs at him, bitterly.
“All your loyalty, all your friendship,” Morgana mocks, cackling manically, Merlin feels the stab of guilt and loss once again at the person she once was, “Your King values none of it.”
Merlin raises his hands in surrender, ready to use his magic if he really needs it, “I am no threat to you, Morgana. I am sure there is more important things to be doing than killing me.”
Morgana rolls her eyes, “Ah but there is not. Seeing Arthur dance looking for you….”
“Looking for me,” Merlin almost laughs, spreading his arms out wide, ignoring the spike of pain in his back, “where is he then? He’s left me like I mean nothing because that’s exactly what I mean to him,” His eyes burn at his own words, tears threatening to fall.
Morgana seems to falter at his words, looking around sharply like Arthur is going to jump out from any bush around her, “That can’t be right…”
“It is, Arthur is probably back at Camelot. He won’t notice till he needs someone to shine his boots,” Merlin spits, letting his hands fall to his sides, gripping the rock behind him.
His magic laps at his palms, tempting him to show his power. Merlin can feel his walls falling, crumbling at the base. Years of anger, of being ignored, of never being good enough for anyone. Why is he doing all of this? Hiding, walking in the shadows, protecting a King that would cast him out the moment he knew his secret. He thinks of Gaius’ disappointment. Arthur’s anger. His friends, the knights, turning their backs on him. Gwaine and Percival marching him to a cell, betrayal in their eyes. Leon reading him his punishment, helping to build the pyre overnight. He thinks of walking away and seeing none of it. Not like he would be important enough to Arthur to try to find him if he ran.
“All the more reason to…”
Morgana doesn’t get to finish her sentence as Merlin’s magic throws her backwards. Aithusa takes off to the sky, knowing well she cannot stand against a dragon lord. Merlin sees the moment Morgana realises who he is, he sees the fear, he sees the shock. It feels amazing to be recognised as him. Morgana pushes herself up, readying herself for their battle. Merlin lets her, much the same as Arthur letting an opponent pick up their sword in a dual. Merlin deflects her attacks easier than he thought was possible, realising just how much more power he has when not holding an aging spell at the same time. Merlin twists his hands together, muttering a spell.
þīn wæter bið mīn miht
The water of the lake roars to life, forming itself into a raging ball and sending itself towards Morgana. She screams trying to dodge away from the water, failing as she falls to the ground. She tries to send her own fire magic towards him once again but it fails in her hands. She screams in anguish, power weakened by Merlin’s.
“You fight for nothing more than the death of our people,” Morgana shouts, her face like thunder.
Merlin shakes his head, “Freedom comes not from war, Morgana.”
Morgana throws her hands up, the rocks around Merlin levitating with her power. Merlin ducks back away from the oncoming assault, using his magic to break each rock into nothing more than dust.
“You are just a servant!” Morgana screams.
Merlin nods, “I am. You never seemed to see that before, though. We were friends.”
Morgana sneers at his words, “We were never friends.”
“You helped me with Mordred all those years ago. A young druid. We protected him from Uther,” Merlin reminds her, throwing himself to the side away from her magic, protecting himself.
“He betrayed me.”
“Mordred did what was right despite your assurance to him. He believed in Arthur.”
“More fool him,” Morgana spits, gripping a rock to regain her balance as Merlin sends a shock wave of magic through the ground, cracking the ground below her.
Merlin could almost agree with that sentiment. He breathes in as he harnesses the sky above him, taking control of the fight. Morgana looks up, a thread of fear appearing on her face as storm clouds form above them.
“…no…You can’t harness the weather,” Morgana splutters, looking at him with a sense of awe and shock, “That’s impossible, only….only warlocks can….”
“What made you think I wasn’t a warlock?”
Merlin lets his power flow through him, he was once told by the druids that his magic came from the earth itself. That if he harnessed that connection, then he could control the world around him. A bolt of lightening hits close to Morgana throwing her off her feet again.
“I need you to go, never return. I don’t want to even hear word of you in neighbouring kingdoms,” Merlin demands, watching his former friend look up in horror, “I may be your doom, Morgana, but I do not wish you dead.”
“NO!” Morgana shouts over the rumble of thunder above them, looking determined at Merlin, “I will not stop fighting until there is no breath left in my body.”
“Is revenge worth your life?”
“I spend two years in darkness and all I dreamt about was killing your king,” Morgana answers, a madness clouded in her desperation, “I cannot live knowing I failed.”
“Morgana….”
“Merlin,” Morgana interrupts him and Merlin can see tears in her eyes, a shadow of her former self passing through, quiet but there, “If you ever cared for me as a friend, if you ever held any respect for me, you would kill me here and now. I cannot match you, Emrys, the fight is lost. But my pain will not leave me. I will never be the person I once was.”
Merlin can feel tears stinging in his eyes as rain starts to fall around them, “Morgana…”
Lightening strikes once more and Morgana lunges for Merlin, throwing him to the floor. A dark ball of magic manifests itself in her hands as she raises it above her head. There’s a bloodthirsty, madness in her eyes when Merlin meets them. He closes his eyes, ready for the pain. It doesn’t come. The sound of a sword piercing skin and Morgana’s body slumping forward, makes him open his eyes once again. Mordred is above him, excalibur held loosely in his hand. Arthur is about two steps behind, looking like the world is crumbling around him. Merlin almost wants to laugh in his face.
Merlin swallows as he meets the young druid’s eyes, taking his offered hand to pull him to his feet. His eyes drift to Morgana’s still form, grief settling deep into his chest at the loss of the person she once was. The storm cloud dissolve, leaving the blanket of grey clouds once more.
“Merlin….” Arthur’s voice breaks on the word, his brow creased in an indecipherable emotion.
Merlin eyes the sword in the King’s hand, held loosely at his side, “I will not return to Camelot, just let me go.”
“Merlin-“
“No, if you ever valued me in the slightest, you would let me walk away,” Merlin cuts him off, looking past Arthur towards Gwen then back at his former friend, “I bought you back your queen, I saved Gwen. Surely that is enough to let me walk away.”
“I don’t want you to walk away,” Arthur answers, shaking his head, looking a damn sight closer to miserable than Merlin has ever seen the King be, “I am sorry we left you. I am sorry I left you alone.”
“You forgot about me,” Merlin’s voice cracks on the last word, traitor.
Arthur doesn’t argue, “I was so happy to have Gwen back that I-“
“You forgot about me,” Merlin repeats, his upset falling away as he feels the burn of anger in his veins, his magic burns close but Merlin would never use it, not on Arthur, “I have followed you through certain death, over and over again. I have been by your side every step of your journey to become king and-“
“You were lying to me,” Arthur snaps, a flicker of anger igniting in his eyes at being berated when Merlin committed the ultimate betrayal, committed treason.
“I was protecting you,” Merlin snaps back, his resolve breaking, he moves forward towards Arthur, halting when Arthur’s grip on his sword tightens, “I only use my magic for you Arthur. I have been protecting you from the shadows since the moment we met. I have been nothing but loyal to you.”
“Camelot law clearly states….”
“Camelot law? Your fathers law you mean? Just like his law stated your Knights couldn’t be your knights and your wife couldn’t be your wife,” Merlin laughs, shaking his head, “Arthur, you are blinded by hatred for magic just like him. I was born with magic, how can someone be born evil.”
“I don’t believe you evil, Merlin,” Arthur answers, stepping back away from him, looking lost as he turns away, “This wasn’t suppose…”
“What? We were suppose to travel here, use magic to save Gwen, then turn back to Camelot where the same person who saved her would be burned on a pyre? I implored you to remember and just hours later you have forgotten.”
“That was you….what am I saying of course it was you,” Arthur answers, rubbing his face with his hands, “You controlled the weather. We saw you, you could have easily killed Morgana.”
“Having the power to kill doesn’t mean you should use it,” Merlin shoots back, looking up to the sky.
Arthur nods in agreement, “No, no I guess it doesn’t. “
“When did you remember?” Merlin looks towards the king, who’s shoulders tense against the question, “At least tell me that.”
“I don’t….Merlin, how will that…”
“I want to know,” Merlin pushes, steeling himself ready for the truth.
“Mordred, Mordred remembered,” Gwen admits from behind Arthur, looking upset at her own words.
Mordred looks away when Merlin looks towards him, “Right, okay.”
Merlin feels ice settle in his veins. He hasn’t treated Mordred well since the moment he set foot in Camelot, Kilgharrah’s warning ringing in his ear. A pack between the Druid boy and Morgana. Impossible now as the latter lays dead. Perhaps the future is as murky and changeable as Gaius says it is. Arthur won’t meet his eyes, remorse clear in his posture, head hanging low. Merlin doesn’t know what to say for the first time since they met. Merlin can see Arthur does care for him. He can see the King does not know how to approach the magic issue, but wants to try. Merlin doesn’t know if he can be let down again.
“You won’t see me again, Arthur,” Merlin says, calmly, not looking towards the king but out across the lake.
“Merlin-“
“No, Arthur,” Merlin cuts him off, softly, “I won’t put you in the position to choose. I never wanted to. Some men are born to plow fields, some live to be great physicians, others to be great kings. Me? I was born to serve you, Arthur, and I'm proud of that, and I wouldn't change a thing. But I must go now, Morgana is dead, you are safe. I need a new purpose.”
“Your purpose can still be being by my side,” Arthur answers, desperate, “I value you, Merlin, I do. This will not happen again.”
“I have magic, Arthur. You won’t be able to forget knowing,” Merlin counters, “And it will. You have always placed everyone else above me…”
“No more, Merlin you are my best friend. I value your word above all others. I never say it….i never show it but I care greatly for you. I am sorry for today, I am sorry I treated you as I have. I never check you are at my side because you are always there. Always have been. Could you ever forgive me?”
Merlin doesn’t think he’s ever heard Arthur say sorry in his life let alone to him. And definitely not so seriously.
“I think I might be able to,” Merlin answers, letting himself smile for the first time since he watched his friends walk away from him, “I want at least two days off.”
“Three, I’m feeling generous,” Arthur answers, his own smile mirroring Merlin’s.
Merlin laughs, maybe everything will be alright.