Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something is wrong with the lake. It’s a long accepted fact among local residents that something about it is not normal. It looks normal, a picturesque body of water by the road with a little island and some old ruins rising up from the centre. The bloke the council sent for the environmental survey said it was normal. Everything around it is normal. But the locals know it’s not.

For starters, the water is always icy cold, like someone suspended the temperature in the middle of winter. Then there are the stories about people seeing bones lying under the surface and sometimes even faces, staring back at them. Not everyone believes the rumours though. After all, most never get close enough to look into the water at all, forced to turn back by a sudden feeling of dread. Even in the middle of a heatwave, nobody would dare go near the lake.

Which is why the newest residents of the area received such strange looks as they wandered down to the shore with a bottle of wine.

They weren’t well-liked by most of their new neighbours. About a month earlier they moved into in the cottage at the bottom of the lane where Old Emrys used to live. After he went away, there was a lot of talk about what would happen to his house. Then one day, two young men were spotted entering the house with a couple of duffel bags. The police had been called, only to find that one of the boys, Merlin, was Old Emrys’ nephew and the house had been left to him in his uncle’s will. The other boy was his boyfriend, Arthur, and they intended to live there while Merlin set up his herbal remedy business and Arthur earned his history degree from a nearby university. People started talking almost instantly after the news broke.

If people didn’t openly dislike them, they certainly thought they were a bit strange. Merlin grew strange plants in the garden and muttered funny words like his uncle once had. Arthur would seem perfectly normal until he said something oddly archaic or began staring at everyday appliances like he was seeing them for the first time. Which was why it was both surprising, and not surprising, to see them walking unflinchingly down to the lake now.

Merlin’s heart tightened in his chest as he watched his boyfriend drop himself onto one of the bigger rocks that covered the shore. He looked totally at ease, smiling across at him, as though what happened the last time they’d been here together was nothing more than a bad dream. It had been Arthur’s idea to settle in what was once Avalon and in the month since their arrival, Merlin had hardly slept. He tried but he would always wake up not long after closing his eyes. It was better now Arthur was back, it was, but his presence alone couldn’t undo thousands of years without him.

As though reading his mind, the former king stood and walked to his side.

“Sorry.” He said awkwardly “I thought it would be fun to come here together.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s definitely not.”

“Yeah, it’s not.” Merlin sighed.

“We haven’t really talked about…any of it. You were alone for so long Merlin. And I don’t even know where I was. We should talk about it. We need to.”
“I don’t think there’s enough time”

Arthur shook his head and took the other boy’s hand. “No. I mean…I need to tell you something. When I was down there,” He nodded towards the lake “I heard things. Voices. I think they were like instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“Go home, find him, come back for us” He recited the words immediately, as though they were still being whispered to him. “I wouldn’t have gone back to Camelot if I hadn’t heard them. I wouldn’t have found you again. That’s why I wanted to come back. We’re supposed to find someone here”

“Who?” Merlin wondered aloud.

Arthur looked at him seriously. “Merlin, the voices I heard…it wasn’t just anyone. It sounded almost like…like Gwaine”

Until now Merlin had been holding the bottle of wine. It slid from his fingers and smashed, loudly against the pebbles, sending glass everywhere and staining the sand red. He sprinted to the water and knelt down, muttering a quick spell as he looked into the water.

“Bewlátung mec”

Nothing.

“Bewlátung mec”

Just water. Plain, cold water.

“Aliesan mín drút” He screamed at the lake, the gold in his eyes shimmering through his tears “Aliesan mín géowine! Bewlátung mec mín géowine!”
He was sobbing now, knowing it was useless even as he shouted and begged in the language of the Old Religion. He’d done this the last time he sat on this shore, cried and pleaded and offered the gods anything in exchange for Arthur. It was as pointless then as it was now, but he couldn’t stop. Gwaine was down there, his friend Gwaine, who he’d let die alone, and he’d said us. Us meant Gwaine wasn’t alone anymore. Us meant that after thousands of years, Merlin could have his friends back. Maybe that was it, maybe that was what he needed. Maybe once they were all together, not just Merlin and Arthur but Gwaine, Leon, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan and Gwen, all of them alive and together, maybe he could apologise for everything, for failing them like he failed Arthur, for running away. Then the nightmares would stop and he’d be able to enjoy the lake with his boyfriend instead of wanting to drag him away from its dangerous edge. Yes, that was it, he just needed to bring them back and then, they would all get their happy endings, if he could just get this stupid spell right-

Suddenly a pair of warm arms were around him, ignoring his struggling and even more frantic shouting as they slowly pulled him back from the water

“Merlin,” Arthur warned quietly “The neighbours will hear”

“I have to get them out!” He sobbed “Arthur please, I have to, I can’t…not again…I just can’t!”

“I shouldn’t have brought you here to tell you this, it was stupid I’m sorry, I should have told you the minute I found you but you were so overwhelmed by just me and I was worried…I’m sorry Merlin, I’m a complete prat, just let me get you home, it’s alright, I’m here”

Arthur held him tightly against his chest and half carried him back toward the cottage, desperately trying to come up with some words of comfort. Gwen and Lancelot would have known what to say and Elyan and Leon were such good listeners. Gwaine and Percival would have cracked jokes and carried on to lighten the mood and Gaius would have had just the right words of wisdom. He had a horrible suspicion that even Morgana would be better equipped than him for this. He missed them just as much as Merlin did, maybe even more, though he’d never say that out loud. After all, for Merlin it had been centuries, but to Arthur it felt almost like waking up from a particularly long dream to find the entire world had become strange. He wondered if it would be so strange if they were there, if he had more links to the world he knew than just his boyfriend. He loved him, impossibly so, but without the others something felt off. Merlin was drowning and Arthur couldn’t seem to find him in the water. He would never admit it, but he was scared for him. He remembered the boy Merlin had been when they first met, so openhearted and caring but also so self-assured and confident in his ability to do right, and his heart broke when he saw him now, so downtrodden and riddled with doubt. If time had preserved Arthur, it had frozen Merlin. Water had seeped into him and created a wall of ice and bitterness between Emrys and the rest of the world. Arthur had hoped he would be able to thaw it, and he liked to think that he’d maybe melted away a little section, but he was starting to realise he couldn’t do it on his own.

He was fully carrying him now, and he was met with little resistance as he headed upstairs, deciding they would both use some sleep. Once Merlin had settled into a light sleep he’d probably wake from in an hour or so, Arthur kissed him gently on the forehead before turning to the window that overlooked the lake. He stared out for a minute and sighed.

“I could use a hand you lot” He said sadly. He gave the lake one last longing look and went to bed, hoping Merlin would get more than a few hours tonight.

Chapter Text

It hurt. It hurt so badly. It hurt because he was so weak, because he failed them. He wanted to scream, he wanted to warn them. But it hurt too much. He wanted to die bravely, but there was no bravery in this, hands tied and head bowed towards the forest floor as the pain slowly killed him. He wanted his friends, he wanted to protect them, he still wanted so much. It was too late. He’d sent Morgana straight to them. He’d just wanted it to stop hurting. He’d doomed them. He’d killed Merlin and Arthur. He saw it in Percy's face when he told him what he’d done. The pain seemed duller now, like it was far away. He felt heavy, if Percival let go of his face he’d fall into the dirt.

“I failed”

The other knight opened his mouth, probably to condemn him, but whatever was said he couldn’t hear it. He was tired. He needed to close his eyes. What was one more moment of weakness, now that he’d assured his friends deaths? He was such a failure. He was so tired…
Then it was cold, and he was floating and there were visions. And a strange woman’s voice whispered messages so he repeated them. He was like that for a long time, or maybe just a few hours, until the light appeared. It danced above him and he reached up towards it with a sense of urgency he couldn’t quite explain. He needed to get somewhere, but the visions were slipping away and he couldn’t quite remember where. He needed to go to the light.

Merlin woke from another nightmare in a cold sweat. Beside him, Arthur was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, he carefully slid out from under his arm and headed downstairs to make a cup of tea. He had fallen asleep in the clothes he’d worn down to the lake, but Arthur had clearly taken pity on him because his jeans had been replaced with his favourite sweatpants and though he was still wearing socks, his shoes were thrown in the corner. Still, it was cold so he grabbed a red blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around his shoulders.

While he waited for the kettle to boil, he started straightening up. He loved Arthur but apparently not even centuries of purgatory could make him pick up after himself. They should really have a proper clean soon, the kitchen counters were getting filthy. Then again, he wasn’t exactly overrun with tasks right now, so he tied his blanket around his shoulders and set to work. As he grabbed a cloth and started to wipe them down, he let his mind wander. He didn’t really need to focus on what he was doing, so he started staring out of the window instead. It was a nice night, the moon was casting a soft white glow over everything. He looked up to watch the stars for a while, but the sky was dark with cloud. The moon was only barely visible. He looked around for the source of the light. His eyes fell on the lake.

“Arthur!” He yelled “Arthur come on!”

When there was no response Merlin hesitated. Really, he shouldn’t go down there without Arthur. He’d never hear the end of it if something happened. But the light didn’t feel dangerous, it felt familiar and exciting. Whatever was happening, it couldn’t wait.

He didn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he sprinted down to the lake, the blanket billowing out behind him like a cloak. His feet were freezing as the puddles he ran through made his socks heavy with water. The light grew brighter as he drew closer, until he reached the lake and all of a sudden it disappeared.

Merlin felt a sinking feeling in his chest. It had stopped. Whatever had been going on had been disrupted by his presence. He realised there had been a little bubble of hope in his chest that insisted he was about to see his friends again. There probably hadn’t even been any light in the first place. He was so exhausted, he’d probably just imagined it. His hands clenched and he turned around to start making his way back to the house.

“Merlin”

That voice. It couldn’t be real. He had to be imagining.

“What the hell have you got on?”

There are letters hidden in Merlin’s house. Some he sent, some he received, some he thought would never be seen by their intended recipients. He thought of one now, remembered how his hands shook when he wrote it, how he struggled to put the total defeat he felt while writing into words.

Dear Gwaine
You’re not going to read this. You’re dead. Gwen told me just now. I even asked Percy just to be sure, because you know how you are. Maybe you’ve faked it. Maybe you just got bored and you’re out there having an adventure without me. If you are I’ll turn you into something disgusting. Because I’m a sorcerer. I never got the chance to tell you that but I think you knew. So thank you for not telling Arthur.
He’s dead too.
Percy says you told him you failed. He says you told Morgana where we were. It’s not your fault though. I don’t know what she did to you, but I know you’d never betray us unless you forced to. I don’t blame you. You’re a good person. You’re the only one I ever really told about me and Arthur. I would have told you about my magic too, but I never found the right time. I’d trust you with my life.
You were my friend.
If you come back from that adventure right now I promise I won’t turn you into anything.
Merlin.

Not too far from that letter, Arthur stirred. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up, it felt like Merlin tossing and turning or maybe climbing back into bed. Either way it seemed much too late to be awake. He rolled over, intending to whine a bit about being woken up or comfort him if needed.

The person he came face to face with was not Merlin.

“Morning Princess”

Arthur yelled and scrambled back. There was a loud thud as he hit the floor followed by hysterical laughter. Gwaine looked over the edge of the bed, grinning wickedly.

“Take it you’re not pleased to see me then?”

There was another loud thud as Merlin launched himself onto the bed and pulled his friend into a tight hug.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you” He muttered into Gwaine’s chest. Arthur felt a little spike of jealousy run through him until he remembered it was just Gwaine. Well, not just Gwaine. Because Gwaine was supposed to be dead and not pulling pranks with Merlin.

“Prats” He said sitting up. “It’s nearly first light”

Gwaine sighed dramatically. “It’s good to be back”

“Good to have you back” Arthur brushed himself off and gave the knight a quick hug before turning on his boyfriend. “Although, it would probably be better if you hadn’t woken me up in the middle of the night. As for you Merlin…”

“I did try to wake you. I just didn’t have time to wait for you to drag your royal arse out of bed. Besides, it was Gwaine’s idea”

He didn’t move from his spot in bed as he spoke. His expression was so perfectly innocent that Arthur almost believed him.

“You little liar!” Gwaine shouted, and Merlin laughed, façade broken.

Arthur’s heart melted at the sight of his smile. It was a real, genuine, carefree smile. The one that always gave him away when he was up to no good. The one he’d seen less and less as the years went by and was even rarer now. For the first time in a few weeks, Arthur felt relief. He wasn’t alone in experiencing this strange new world anymore. And if Gwaine could help Merlin find his way back to who he was, well then that was just another of the hundreds of reasons to be glad they had their friend back. He burst out laughing too.

When the sun came up over the lake a few hours later, it shone through the little window if the cottage, and onto the faces of three old friends. Gwaine stood up in the morning light and smiled brilliantly.

“It’s a new day lads”

Chapter Text

If Merlin and Arthur weren’t very popular within the village, Gwaine certainly wasn’t. One day after his arrival, people were already starting to talk about the stranger who’d arrived at the local pub mid-afternoon and had been thrown out at closing time along with his friends. Merlin and Arthur had laughed and brought him down to the shore of the lake where he threw an arm around both of them. A woman walked by cradling a sleeping child, who she clutched closer to her chest at the sight of them. Gwaine had winked at her bringing on another round of laughter.

Arthur groaned as he came to, suddenly remembering the old rule he’d had in Camelot about going drinking with Gwaine. You didn’t. He hid his face in Merlin’s shirt, hoping it would stop the sun from burning his eyes. His boyfriend made a small sound of protest.

“Get off” He whined

“The sun hurts”

“Don’t care. You’re heavy, go away”

Even as he spoke Merlin hugged him tighter. There was something in his posture that felt oddly tense, but Arthur decided not to question it. Yesterday, Merlin had seemed more himself than he’d been in a while, and he didn’t want to ruin his good mood. It was probably just the hangover.

Eventually they woke Gwaine and walked back to the cottage. Gwaine was muttering curses at the sun and though Merlin smiled, it seemed strained. He kept looking between the two knights, and at one point, Arthur caught something like worry flash across his face. He meant to question him about it, but the minute they got back Merlin rushed out into the garden, blabbering about some miracle hangover cure he’d learned in Camelot.

“Gwaine?”

A muffled sound of acknowledgement came from where the man in question had buried his face in the sofa.

“What happened after I fell asleep last night? Did Merlin say anything to you?”

“Why?” He asked, smirking “Worried he’s been telling me all your dirty little secrets?”

“I’m serious, something’s wrong. He seems upset”

Gwaine looked thoughtful for a second, then nodded.

“He did seem upset come to think of it. Kept asking who else I thought might come back. I asked him what kind of trouble we could use his magic to get into. He went quiet after that. I thought he’d gone to sleep but a while later I heard him muttering to himself. It was a bit odd I suppose, but I’ve seen him talking in his sleep before so I didn’t think too much of it”

Arthur ignored the little voice that told him to ask how exactly Gwaine knew Merlin talked in his sleep and instead turned his attention to what about the conversation could have possibly caused the sudden change in his boyfriend’s attitude. Even in Camelot, Merlin had always been prone to strange moods, but it was never without reason. It occurred to Arthur that even now, he didn’t know all of the reasons behind those moods, Merlin had never bothered to tell him about his side of their adventures and he’d gotten the sense he didn’t want to know. He was starting to think maybe he should ask. Later maybe, once he’d gotten to the bottom of this current problem.

Merlin was in the kitchen when Arthur found him, drinking the tea he’d just finished making. He wordlessly pushed a mug at him, before going back to staring at the lake through the window.

“What is it?” Arthur asked cautiously.

“Chamomile, willow and ginger” He replied “It’ll clear your head”

“What does it taste like?”

“Do you care?”

Arthur considered for a moment before grabbing the mug and downing it.

Merlin turned back to the lake as though looking at would solve all of his problems. It was a nice day and the sun was creating golden sparks on the surface of the water. It should probably have looked beautiful, but the sight put him on edge. There was something brewing down there. He’d felt it last night, lying on the shore. Something just below the surface, a powerful force building its strength. On some level he’d been expecting it, waiting for it even. He’d been warned hadn’t he? He’d known Arthur would only return when his people needed him most, so why was he so caught off guard by the prospect of danger?

It wasn’t the danger that bothered him though. It was the fact that Arthur was meant to face it. And what if he was expected to sacrifice himself again? Would Merlin go on living? What if Gwaine died? What if this was all just some sick dance, where his loved ones rose and died for Albion over and over? He didn’t think he could bear it again. It had been painful before, but easier in this new world where everything was so different from what the one he’d shared with them. How could he go back to being alone now, when everything in his life once more, bore traces of Arthur? He wanted to talk to him about it, make him promise not to be noble and stupid, but how could he tell the man he loved that he was marked for death, again?

The night before, he’d tried every spell he could think of to trace the presence in the lake, to destroy it or weaken it before it ever came close to them. Nothing had worked. Whatever it was, the lake protected it just as it had protected Gwaine and Arthur from his attempts to reach them. He hated destiny. He wished he’d never known his. He couldn’t help but think of the letters he kept hidden from Arthur upstairs.

Dear Kilgharrah,
You might not get this. I don’t know where to find you. You’re hiding from me like the coward you are and that’s probably for the best. I don’t really want to see you either.
I blame you as much as I blame myself. You turned me against Mordred and Morgana instead of encouraging me to help them. You told me the only way to save Arthur was to treat them like enemies. You robbed me of the only two people that might have truly understood me. Their deaths are at your feet as well as mine.
The man I loved died in my arms because you refused to tell me anything that didn’t serve your needs. You forced me to think like you and convinced me it would save him. You told me half-truths and gave vague promises and orders without ever explaining them. Even after I forgave you for all you did in Camelot, even after I spared your life. I wish I never had. I should have let Arthur kill you right then. You took my friends, you took my father and you let them take Arthur.
I hate you.

The letter had been returned two days after he’d used magic to send it, with a note scrawled on the bottom, like whoever write it had been forced to do so.

It will happen again.

Now Merlin stood in his kitchen, gripping his mug so tightly that his knuckles were white, eyes fixed on the lake. He felt a hand on his shoulder but refused to even look at Arthur. If he looked at him, he was sure he’d break down. He needed to be stronger than he’d been before, more ready, more alert.

They spent the rest of the day like that, Arthur trying to draw out any kind of reaction that wasn’t forced or distracted and Merlin checking every corner for a danger that hadn’t come yet. Gwaine watched their little dance with amusement at first, but it quickly gave way to concern. Eventually Arthur gave up and announced he was tired, clearly upset that his boyfriend refused to confide in him. That left Gwaine and Merlin sitting quietly by the fire. Side by side like this, with no light but the flames in front of them, it might have been just another night in Camelot.

“Something’s bothering you” Gwaine said softly, breaking the silence.

Merlin didn’t answer.

“Arthur’s worried Merlin. I’m worried. Why won’t you talk to him?”

“What makes you think I’ll talk to you?” His voice was bitter.

Gwaine shrugged. “It’s what we do isn’t it? Remember Camelot? How I was so scared I’d make a mess of being a knight and we sat up all night talking? Then I asked you to help me train in secret and so we snuck outside and trained all night. On the way back to bed we broke into the kitchen and took whatever was edible”

“Elyan caught us” Merlin remembered “He threatened to tell Arthur and we threatened to tell Gwen”

“We won”

They grinned at each other.

“You can tell me Merlin” He promised.

The sorcerer hesitated for a moment, before looking up at his friend.

“I’m scared Gwaine” He admitted “Something is coming. Something bad. Last night…I felt it in the lake. I’m so afraid of losing the two of you again. What if Arthur dies again because I can’t protect him like I’m supposed to? What if I fail him? Is this going to happen over and over until I finally know what I’m doing? I can’t go through this more than once, I can’t let anything bad happen to either of you, ever again. I am not letting you down a second time. So I have to be careful, I have to be smarter and more willing to do what needs to be done, I can’t hesitate anymore because if I do…”

“You’ll never forgive yourself” Gwaine finished. “I know the feeling”

“Gwaine?”

“It wasn’t your fault Merlin. It was mine. I’m the one who told Morgana where you were going. She hurt me. And I was too weak to fight it. It hurt so badly. I just wanted it to stop. I failed. Those were my last words”

“You didn’t” Merlin told him “What she did to you…doesn’t mean you failed”

“Merlin” The knight said seriously “I promise you, we won’t fail this time”

When Arthur went downstairs to convince Merlin to get some sleep, he found the two of them in front of the fire, asleep. He went to put it out before the house burned down. Merlin was talking in his sleep again and Arthur smiled warmly.

“Gwaine” The dark haired boy mumbled.

Arthur went completely still.

Then he turned around and went back upstairs.

Merlin continued to mutter names in an order he wouldn’t remember come morning.

The lake began to glow.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure how it happened exactly. It was the day after Merlin left Camelot. Gwen had been beside herself with worry and sent a party out to bring him home. They had gone to the lake, thinking he might have gone there to mourn. He’d sent the others ahead and taken a seat on the shore. He remembered thinking it was a nice place, though he had been hurt that Merlin had made no attempt to bring Arthur back to be buried like his father. It probably hadn’t been what Arthur wanted. Still, he had been sad to lose his oldest friend without getting to say goodbye. He’d thought about how he’d give anything to see him again and sighed. The sun had been so warm, and he’d been so tired, he’d just closed his eyes for a second.

When he opened them, it was dark and he was underwater. A voice whispered to him and he saw a light above him. He began to swim upwards as the urgency in the voices grew. They said they had made a mistake, Arthur needed him at once, he had to find him, he had to help him…

“Did you sleep alright?” Merlin asked “You look tired”

Arthur scowled. “I’m fine. I assume you had a good night’s sleep. You look less of a mess than you usually do. Good dreams?”

Merlin frowned at his tone.

“Good dreams?” He repeated

“Yes, Merlin, dreams. Are you too stupid to know what dreams are now?”

As he spoke, Gwaine walked into the kitchen, smiling.

“Lovers quarrel?”

“Arthur’s being a clotpole” Merlin said, getting a glass and filling it with water. Gwaine leaned against the counter next to him, mystified as the tap poured water into the glass.

“I’d watch it if I were you sire” He said as Merlin handed him the glass “I’ll bet there’s still a very long line of people waiting to take your place. Isn’t that right love?”

Merlin laughed.

Arthur clenched his fists and glared at the knight.

“Piss off Gwaine” He snapped, placing his coffee down on the table and walking out of the room.

Merlin shot Gwaine an apologetic look before taking off after him.

“What is your problem this morning?” He demanded, grabbing Arthur by the shoulder and spinning him round so they were standing face to face at the front door. Arthur’s jaw was clenched, his arms folded over his chest, the way he always did when he was trying to hide something that was upsetting him. “How could you say that?”

“Why do you care?”

“We just got him back Arthur!”

“Why are you taking his side?”

“His side?” Merlin echoed “What sides? You were fine with him until two minutes ago you prat! Something’s upsetting you”

“Gwaine is upsetting me”

“He’s not done anything to you, you arrogant-”

“He’s the arrogant one!” Arthur argued “He just shows up and starts undermining me, joking about how I’m not good enough for you…”

“That’s not what he said!”

“It’s what he meant”

“Arthur-” Merlin began

“I read the letters you sent each other!” Arthur shouted. Merlin felt the blood rush from his face. “Last night, I couldn’t sleep and I found them. I thought they were more of ours, like the ones that got destroyed in Camelot. I didn’t realise you had another collection”

“I have one for everyone” He said in a weak attempt at defending himself. “Everything I could find, I kept. It’s everyone, not just Gwaine-”

“So everyone sent you letters like this?” He asked, pulling a piece of parchment from his pocket.

Dear Merlin,
You looked sad tonight. Arthur’s a fool. I know you said you didn’t hate him, but I really don’t see how you couldn’t right now. I suppose you’re just a better man than me.
I hate to see you like this. I know you said you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep doing this. If it won’t help then you can say no and we’ll never speak of it again. But name a time and place and I’ll be there.
Gwaine.

Dear Gwaine,
Gaius is visiting a friend in town tonight. Wait till the patrols are done.
Thank you.
Merlin

“I know how this looks” He said in a shaking voice. “But Arthur I swear to you, what happened between me and Gwaine-”

“So you admit something happened?” Arthur’s voice was cold “You’re not even going to try and deny it?”

“Arthur, please listen-”

“God Merlin! Gwaine? Of all the men in Camelot, you had an affair with Gwaine? Why? Why would you betray me like that? I ignored all the rumours going around about you and those other serving boys, I was the one who put a stop to them, because I was so sure you would never. I told myself that you would never do that to us, never-”

“It was your wedding day you stupid royal arse!” Merlin bellowed.

A few people in the street were looking over. Merlin’s eyes flicked across them and when he spoke again, he lowered his voice, trying desperately to stay calm.

“You and I had just ended things, and you were marrying Gwen. It was just friends messing about, it meant nothing. I’m sorry if I needed someone to… be there for me, while you were off with my best friend”

“All that time you said you waited…”

“I did” He said, his voice empty “I came here every day and sat by the shore, waiting. I have only ever loved you Arthur. But you once told me you wouldn’t expect Gwen to wait for you. Why is it so different for me?”

His heart ached at the look in Arthur’s eyes. They swam with pain and regret and he longed to reach out and comfort him. But part of him, a bitter angry part that could never seem to forgive, made him turn around and go back inside, shutting the door between them. Gwaine stood in the hall but didn’t move towards him. Merlin appreciated that. He went upstairs and curled up on the bed with one of Arthur’s hoodies. The red fabric smelled like him, and soon there were dark spots all over it, as Merlin cried into it.

Arthur ignored the neighbours staring at him in his pyjama pants and one of Merlin’s old shirts. He walked down to the lake on shaking legs and collapsed by the water. He could still feel people watching him as he curled in on himself, hugging his knees tightly. He didn’t usually do things like this in public, and a part of him that sounded suspiciously like Uther Pendragon was telling him he was pathetic, but he really didn’t care. This was the first time he and Merlin had fought since he’d come back. He’d been so jealous he hadn’t stopped to think of what had happened after he married Guinevere. The thought of Merlin needing physical comfort had been a sickening one, so he’d shied away from it, put an end to the rumours and tried to pretend that his servant was completely above such things.

But Gwaine. Gwaine was so much better suited to Merlin that he was. So much more daring and rebellious. He was cleverer and funnier and always knew the right thing to say. Where Arthur was plain-looking and unsure of himself, Gwaine was handsome and charming. And surely Merlin saw that too. He must have known, how much more deserving Gwaine was of his affections. Especially now that he’d been such an idiot about it.

He was just debating how long he’d be able to hide there before a certain knight came to kill him for the way he’d spoken to Merlin when he felt someone sit down next to him.

“Are you alright?” The man’s voice sounded oddly familiar. Someone who lived nearby come to check on the weirdo crying in his pyjamas. He didn’t bother to look up at him.

“Yeah” He lied.

“What happened?”

Something about his voice made Arthur certain that he could tell him anything about Merlin free of judgement. So he answered.

“It’s my boyfriend. I just found out something happened between him and one of our friends. It was a long, long time ago, and I was seeing someone else at the time. I was an arse about it, I got jealous and overreacted, but I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me before now”

“Maybe he was scared of what you’d say. If you just apologised, he’d probably apologise for not telling you. If you don’t you’ll just make yourself miserable for the sake of your pride”

Arthur nodded slightly in agreement and smiled as he rose to his feet.

“You’re right. Thanks Leon”

Then he paused.

And turned.

He was sitting on the ground, barely holding back his laughter.

“Forgive me, sire” Leon said “I meant to announce myself but…well I thought the others would have been disappointed with me if I didn’t wait and see how long it took”

Arthur took in the sight of Sir Leon of Camelot. Soaking wet and sticking out like a sore thumb in his chainmail and bright red cloak. Still desperately trying not to burst out laughing at his King.

He hugged him tightly. Leon seemed surprised by the sudden display of emotion towards him and he was slow to hug his friend back, which made Arthur smile even more. Leon always seemed unsure about whether to handle things as his knight or as his friend. It was one of the things that made him glad he wasn’t a King in this world. There was nothing stopping him from telling the people he loved that he cared for them.

“Leon”

“Sire?”

“Welcome back”

Chapter Text

People were already talking as Arthur led Leon up the path to the cottage. He ignored the whispers and kept his arm slung around Leon’s shoulders, as though he might disappear at any moment. The front door suddenly seemed daunting. He hesitated slightly, until Leon shook his head and knocked.

It was Gwaine who answered. His hands were clenched tightly and he was visibly shaking with anger. Arthur took a step back, then cursed himself and took another step forwards, matching the knight’s posture. For a moment they stared at each other, Arthur ready to defend himself and Gwaine ready to defend Merlin. Then Leon cleared his throat.

All of the animosity dropped from Gwaine’s face as he turned to Leon.

“I knew it’d be you next” He said, pulling the other knight into a tight hug. “Always coming in second, aren’t we Leon?”

Leon grinned. “Well someone had to come keep an eye on you, didn’t they?”

They both laughed, and Arthur took it as a good sign. He was about to enter the house to find Merlin when his way was blocked by Gwaine’s arm.

“Not so fast princess” His voice was disturbingly serious. “You’d better be going in there to apologise”

“I am” Arthur replied, trying to make his voice sound as cold as possible. He knew it was pathetic but he really didn’t want Gwaine to realise he had the upper hand.

His arm dropped to let him by. He was almost inside when he heard an answer.

“It was nothing Arthur. We’re friends, but that’s all”

Arthur nodded in acknowledgement and went inside.

Merlin was still lying in bed feeling sorry for himself when the door opened. He didn’t even bother to look up. Arthur’s footsteps gave him away. You couldn’t spend thousands of years waiting for someone without having everything about them memorised. Besides, he doubted Arthur would take him seriously if the books he was levitating above him fell on his face.

“Merlin?”

The books started to form a little orbit.

“Could you put the books down? I can’t concentrate”

He picked up another book

“Merlin. Don’t be such a child”

He felt a surge of magic as he levitated himself off the bed, sitting up and grabbing a random book from the little ring around him so that it looked as though he were reading in mid-air and not just staring blankly at the page.

“I came to apologise”

Merlin didn’t answer.

“Merlin. I’m sorry” Arthur said, his voice almost timid now. “You were right, I acted like a fool. I was angry you never told me about Gwaine and I was an arse about it. I should have just asked you what happened instead of going through your things, but I swear I really didn’t mean to. I came downstairs to check on you last night and I heard you say his name in your sleep, I jumped to conclusions because I was upset. Something’s wrong with you and you won’t tell me what. You were so happy when Gwaine came back, but yesterday you seemed distracted. And I was jealous that you told him what was bothering you and not me. I said things I regret. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m sorry if I hurt you when I married Guinevere. You were right about that too, it shouldn’t be any different. If I act different it’s only because…I loved Gwen, truly I did, but…she was never you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone Merlin. Even if you don’t forgive me”

Merlin desperately fought for control over the books, not wanting him to win so easily. He was beginning to lower himself down in a way that suggested calm consideration when Arthur spoke again.

“Do you want me to go?”

The memory came involuntarily.

Dear Arthur,
I don’t know why I’m writing this. You’ve been dead for a week and I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again.
Why do I keep writing these?
I needed you today. I received a letter from Ealdor. Gaius says it must have been delayed by all the fighting, because the messenger only arrived this morning. Two weeks ago my mother took ill. They say it was very sudden and no healer could determine the cause. The morning of the battle, she took a turn for the worse. The healers said there was nothing to be done, that it was quick and peaceful. I could have saved her if I hadn’t gone to Camlann.
Maybe if we hadn’t gone, everyone would have been saved. Morgana would have surrounded Camelot, but we would have been safe within her walls. I could have fended her off from within and kept you far from Mordred’s blade.
Why did I let you go?
I won’t let you go next time.
Merlin.

The letter was long gone, burned up with the rest of his letters to Arthur, but he remembered it word for word. He doubted he would ever forget the shattering grief he’d felt at the realisation he had failed not just the love of his life, but his own mother, in the same day. Even now the memory brought with it a sharp, cutting pain. He had Arthur back, but Hunith was still gone. It had been so long that her face was beginning to slip from his memory, along with those of everyone he’d once known. He certainly struggled to remember what her voice sounded like, or even how old she’d been when he lost her. The thought panicked him and filled him with the urge to read his letters again until he could picture them all exactly as he had known them.

The books smacked him in the face as they landed on top of him and brought him back to where Arthur had rushed forwards. Arthur, who he loved, even if he was a prat sometimes. Arthur who really was trying to do better for him. If the final prophecy of the Great Dragon was true, then he could lose him in a matter of weeks, days even. And they’d fought over Gwaine.

“Merlin! Are you alright? I’m so sorry, I never meant to upset you I-”

Arthur’s frantic talking was cut off by Merlin suddenly and determinedly kissing him. He held him tightly, feeling as though the only thing that existed was Arthur and the only thing that mattered was this, holding onto him, shielding him from everything at any cost. He had spent years alone, going over every bad thing he’d ever done and regretting it, but in that moment he knew he would do it again without hesitation and the resolve he’d been building since Gwaine returned seemed to solidify. This time, he would not let go. No matter the price, for Arthur he would pay it.

He broke the kiss and a moment of understanding seemed to pass between them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth” Merlin said “But I promise, I have never loved anything as I love you Arthur Pendragon. And I don’t want to fight. Not now”

“Not now?” Arthur echoed “Why are you talking like-?”

“Sire? I hate to interrupt but Gwaine can’t seem to get any water from the well and won’t ask for help, so I thought-”

Arthur tried not to express his annoyance at Leon's timing.

“Leon!” Merlin’s face lit up “Why didn’t you tell me Leon was back?”

“I wanted to talk to you first” Arthur explained “And I knew you’d avoid me if I gave you a way out”

A slightly irritated, but mostly concerned part of him thought that Merlin was doing exactly that now as he hugged the knight and led him downstairs to show him how the tap worked. Arthur sighed and followed, realising his boyfriend was done with talking about his feelings for the day. Leon glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

“I take it you apologised?”

Arthur nodded.

“Good” The knight said “We don’t want Merlin trying to kill you again”

“What?”

“I never should have let Gwen tell you about that” Merlin sighed

“Although from what I hear, he did a terrible job”

“Would’ve managed it if I’d had a better crossbow” The sorcerer said casually.

Leon made an offended face.

“That crossbow was flawless!” He argued “I didn’t know you weren’t just going to shoot him. You have magic! Why did you even need a crossbow?”

Merlin shrugged. “It just seemed like it’d be more fun. I mean if you’re going to commit regicide, why not make it memorable?”

Leon laughed.

Arthur stared at them.

“Regicide?” He asked. But they were already talking about something else.

Another question that would have to be asked later, he supposed. Like what was upsetting Merlin of late and why he was so secretive about it. Or why, for a moment before Leon came in, he had looked at Arthur the way he’d once looked at Gaius’ patients when he knew there was no hope.

Chapter Text

He was dying. He knew he was dying because of the way all the younger knights crowded around him, whispering about curses and getting a physician. He didn’t dare let them see how scared he was. Instead he tried to comfort them, even as their voices grew further and further away. He told them what to do and offered them all smiles. They responded with thank yous and goodbyes. When his eyes closed there was a feeling of peace, like he was floating in cool water.

He was still floating when his eyes opened. Above him there was a light, slowly growing brighter as the current pushed him upwards. He wondered if he should resist, but the light didn’t seem foreign to him. It looked like a light he’d seen in his dreams. It made no promise of safety above the surface and yet he was drawn to it, certain that whatever awaited him, he was needed by his friends. And so he began to assist the current, kicking up towards the light.

Leon and Arthur were laughing at some old joke while Gwaine turned the tap on and off under Merlin’s watchful eye. They hadn’t spoken about what had been said the other night, or even Merlin’s argument with Arthur, and Gwaine suspected it would stay that way. In the three days since Leon’s return, he had waited by the fire, just in case, but Merlin never came. It was stupid, he thought, that he was so upset by it really. Of course Merlin didn’t want to confide in him. He had almost ruined his relationship with his meddling. If it weren’t for Gwaine none of them would even be here, in this strange place. He couldn’t even get a cup of water without help.

He was still a failure.

He’d fail them again.

“See?” Merlin said brightly “Easy once you get the hang of it!”

“Yeah” He replied “Easy”

Merlin gave him a strange look then wandered over to where Arthur and Leon was sitting to join the other knight in teasing his boyfriend, leaving Gwaine to stare out of the window. He could vaguely see his own reflection in the glass, looking mildly ridiculous in the clothes he’d borrowed from Arthur that hung off his frame. Merlin had promised to take them to the market to find some better clothing soon, but had clearly been putting it off for some reason. It felt rather appropriate really. In Arthur’s things, Gwaine’s appearance reflected what he truly was, a pale imitation of better men.

He was broken from his thoughts by a knock on the door. Merlin sighed and stood up.

“I’ll get it”

He was slightly on edge as he went to the door. It was rare for any neighbours to come round, especially so early in the morning. A small surge of power ran through him as he gathered his magic, just in case. He swung the door open and came face to face with a tall thin woman in her late fifties, her grey hair cut short in a severe bob. He sighed.

“Good morning Mrs Clark” He said through gritted teeth. “How can I help you?”

“You have an awful lot of people in that house”

Merlin stared at her for a moment.

“And?” He prompted

She smoothed down her skirt and clasped her hands in front of herself neatly.

“I just wanted to remind you that there are children in this village” She explained “And I will not hesitate to call the police should it be necessary”
Merlin rolled his eyes as she continued.

“To be quite frank, young man, I think your uncle would be very disappointed in you. Poor Mr Emrys, God rest his soul, put a great deal of faith in you, giving you this place. Look at it now. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re really selling out of that garden. You should count yourself lucky I don’t call the police for that. I’ve had my Steven over to clear it out heavens knows how many times but you don’t learn, do you?”

Merlin fought back the urge to blast the stupid woman right off the front path.

“Mrs Clark,” He began, desperately trying to keep his voice polite. “I’ve told you before, there is nothing illegal going on here. I apologise for our behaviour the other night, we haven’t seen Gwaine for quite some time and we got carried away. It won’t happen again. Now if that’s all-”

“Will Arthur be coming to church today?” She asked.

Merlin shrugged. Arthur fell in and out of Mrs Clark’s favour quite often depending on how much he went to church. To be honest, Merlin didn’t know why he bothered. In Camelot, Arthur had never been particularly religious, but had insisted on keeping up an appearance of piety. That religion had long ago been lost to time, but it was similar enough to the services conducted in the local church that Arthur would occasionally go. What he did there, Merlin had no idea, but it seemed to have won over Mrs Clark since she was constantly pestering him about it.

Now, in response to his answer she shook her head.

“How a good boy like him fell in with your crowd is beyond me” She sighed. “You keep those friends of yours in line. They’ve no right to be running around in those silly costumes. Bothering people at this hour! On a Sunday! The cheek of it!”

Merlin looked at her.

“Yeah” He deadpanned “The nerve of some people”

“Well you can tell that young man to get out of the street!” She said, ignoring the obvious sarcasm.

He scowled.

“Gillian. I don’t know why, whenever something happens around here you expect me to sort it. Especially seeing how I have no bloody idea what the hell you’re on about! We’re all inside having breakfast, at least we were until someone interrupted. I have no clue why you’re so obsessed with blaming these things on me, but I can assure you, I have absolutely no connection with whatever idiot is-”

“Merlin?” A voice called from across the street.

Merlin looked over. He stood on the path opposite them, impossible to ignore. Gillian Clark turned to glare at the large knight as he sprinted over, making a sound of indignation as Merlin shoved past her to meet him.

“Percival!”

The taller man grinned, obviously very aware of how much he stuck out in this place. They shared a quick hug and Percival approached Mrs Clark with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for the fright” He said politely

“He’s not from around here” Merlin added “If I’d known he was coming I would have come and found him”

Mrs Clark nodded curtly. She looked as though she was about to say something when Merlin coughed, obscuring the flash of gold in his eyes, and across the street her car alarm blared to life, sending her running towards it. He used the distraction to pull Percival into the house and lock the door behind them, a smirk coming over his face as his neighbour struggled and failed to turn off the alarm.

“Still up to no good then?”

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Arthur and Leon burst into the hall.

“Bloody hell Merlin, what did you-?” Arthur stopped mid-sentence, his face breaking into a smile as he grabbed Percival and pulled him into a hug. Leon followed suit as Merlin glanced about and caught Arthur by the shoulder.

“Where’s Gwaine?” He asked.

“I thought he’d gone after you”

“I haven’t seen him”

“Well if Merlin didn’t see him he must be hiding somewhere” Leon reasoned “Maybe something’s wrong?”

Arthur nodded in agreement. Then turned back into the house.

“Gwaine!” He shouted.

No-one responded. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“He would have told you where he was going if he wanted to talk, clotpole. He seemed upset this morning but I assumed he was tired. Sharing the sofa with Leon would probably put anyone in a bad mood”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you snore” Percival answered.

Leon turned on him as Merlin walked up to the staircase, resting a hand on the wooden railing.

“I’ll make sure he’s okay” He said. His eyes turned gold as his magic was pulled to the surface.

Gwaine had found the room, quite by chance. He’d been looking for a place to hide when he’d seen the little rope handle on the landing. He’d never noticed it before, if he had he would have explored it. The cottage was far better off than any he’d ever encountered, but even with two floors it was quickly becoming crowded. There was one bedroom, which was Merlin and Arthur’s, a small bathroom, a common area of sorts, and a little kitchen. He’d left the room after Merlin, not wanting his friends to see the distress on his face as it became harder and harder to hide. So when he finally noticed the handle and reached up to give it a pull, he was relieved to see it open and reveal a little wooden ladder leading up to a tiny room where he was sure they wouldn’t look for him.

It was warm, and there was padding covering the floor. A single light above him provided a faint yellow glow by which he could see the boxes surrounding him. He noticed a little toy dragon resting on top of one and picked it up to examine it. He remembered the stories of how Arthur slayed the Great Dragon when it attacked Camelot.

Arthur had not deserved to die. It didn’t matter if he’d returned. Gwaine remembered his own death and shuddered at the thought of putting his King through such an ordeal, of putting his friend through such an ordeal. No, Arthur had done nothing to deserve that. Nor had Merlin done anything to deserve his wait. He didn’t talk about it, but sometimes when Gwaine looked at his friend, his heart would break for him. He knew Arthur saw it too, the moments where the light-hearted boy from Camelot seemed to vanish, replaced by an old man weighed down with experience. And in turn, Merlin would regard them as though they little more than visions that would soon disappear. No matter what they said, Gwaine had inflicted that on them.

He hated himself for it.

He was useless, not just that day, but every day before. He’d played at being the fool, the drunkard, the one who never took things seriously enough and it had cost his friends their lives. When it had mattered he hadn’t come through. He’d caught himself wondering a few times, why anyone had bothered to save him. If Arthur was to succeed, surely he’d be better off without his worst knight.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but he was broken form his thoughts by the little trapdoor opening up again. He turned his back, not wanting to face whoever had come after him. His eye caught a flash of silver as he did so. The little room felt much smaller now and whoever it was clearly wasn’t small enough to fit comfortably.

But even Arthur and Leon could probably fit in there. Suddenly, he was hit with the realisation of what had flashed in his vision.

A large hand clasped his shoulder.

“Alright little man?”

Gwaine still didn’t turn, not wanting him to see his face, but his hand found the one on his shoulder and gripped it tightly.

“Percival? What are you-?”

“You didn’t fail, Gwaine. You fought and you didn’t win, but what matters is that you fought”

At last, Gwaine allowed tears to break from his eyes.

“What if I lose again?” He whispered.

“You won’t. If you keep fighting, I promise you’ll win in the end. It might not be easy, but I promise you’ll win”

Percival’s voice didn’t waver. One thing Gwaine had always loved about Percival was that he didn’t say a word he didn’t believe. It was that, that made his next words mean something. If someone as true as Percival could believe it, surely Gwaine could at least try. He finally turned and let Percival pull him in for a hug. If the guilt didn’t go away, then for a moment it at least eased. And though he couldn’t explain why, or how, for the first time since his return Gwaine felt that perhaps a tiny part somewhere in him was worth a shot at redeption.

Downstairs, the gold faded from Merlin’s eyes as he took Arthur’s hand in his. The King looked at him questioningly and he smiled.

“I don’t tell you I love you enough” He said, kissing him gently.

Arthur grinned.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked “You’re never this nice”

“Don’t ruin the moment clotpole” Merlin sighed as Arthur put and arm around his shoulders.

Leon rolled his eyes, smiling at the two of them, as upstairs Gwaine and Percival remained in their embrace.

There was a storm brewing under the lake. Even now Merlin could feel it. But for now they were in its eye, and while it raged and built around them and they waited for it to hit and tear down the fragile walls they’d been building, there was a strange feeling of peace. Because there was still time before the storm hit. And for now, they were okay.

Chapter Text

He’d won. He’d saved her. There was no fear of what was coming, only relief as he looked up at his sister with the knowledge she was safe. Arthur would come soon with the others in tow to bring her home. And though she might mourn, she would recover. She would live for the both of them. He kept his eyes focused on her until they closed. He distantly heard her wailing, the horrified whispers of his friends and the clang of a sword falling to the ground. They found them. She was safe.

When he opened his eyes it was with a sharp gasp. Cold water flooded into his lungs and he immediately stopped himself. He heard his name being called from somewhere. The voice didn’t seem to carry any threat, but he paid it no heed and he kicked up towards the surface before he drowned. Just as his head broke he heard something, but the memory was already faded as he dragged himself ashore and began coughing up water. It was probably nothing.

Merlin was busy rummaging through the boxes he’d summoned from his storage unit as the knights flocked around him “helping”. He’d appreciated the offer at first, but it had quickly devolved into them going through his things. He might not have minded that as much if they understood the concept of gentle. Several times already he’d been forced to stop and remind them most of the things they were playing with belonged in a museum now, and preservation spells only went so far. Leon was flicking through an old book of poetry, occasionally asking Arthur questions, as though he had any knowledge on the subject. Gwaine and Percival meanwhile, were raiding a box of Merlin’s old clothes, sorting them into what was out of fashion and what he was willing to magically alter for them. Gwaine looked thrilled when he was granted ownership of a leather jacket that had been disregarded at some point in the early 70s.

“Why don’t you just use magic to sort through things?” Arthur complained

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I can’t use magic for everything you know”

“I would” Gwaine said

“Well I don’t” He replied “Besides, half of these things are only held together by the spells I have on them. It’s safer to do it by hand”

Arthur gave him a doubtful look. “You’re the clumsiest person I know”

“Maybe I am” He said mysteriously “Or maybe that was just part of my cover”

As he spoke he fumbled and almost dropped the vase he was holding. Arthur looked at him smugly and reached for his mug. Merlin turned his gaze back to the floor to hide the flash of gold in his irises. There was a shout as Arthur’s tea turned boiling and he dropped the mug, sending pieces scattered across the floor.
“You little bastard!”

Merlin laughed and continued diligently searching through the boxes as his boyfriend attempted to fend off the others teasing. It had been centuries since he’d looked in this box. Well, it was more a chest than a box, he supposed. It had hurt too much, to look back on Camelot. It still did. He caught a glimpse of red fabric buried at the bottom and grinned as he pulled a scarf from its hiding place. It was still soft and it had kept its scent even after all this time. He buried his face in it and imagined he had just fallen asleep on his little straw mattress after staying up to read one of his magic books and soon Gaius would come in to wake him and give him a lecture on discretion. Thank the gods for preservation spells. He reinforced them to make sure it would stay exactly as it was if he wore it, and then tied it around his neck. It felt nice, a little reminder of what he used to be. A piece of home when home was long gone

His eyes fell on a little stack of letters. His name was written across the top in his mother’s hand. He remembered sealing them away along with the ones Gaius had written after the old physician’s death. He’d sealed them away in the chest around the same time he’d briefly returned to Camelot and hidden Arthur’s letters, deciding the constant reminders of the three people he had loved the most would drive him mad if he didn’t do something about them. The chest had spent a good deal of time sealed in a cave until the day he found out you could just hire people to lock things away for you. After all this time he couldn’t even remember what they said. Hesitantly, he reached in and took out Hunith’s letters and opened them.

Dear Merlin,
I was so relieved to get word you arrived at Camelot safely. And though it complicates the situation, what mother wouldn’t be proud to see her son named the manservant of Prince Arthur himself? Regardless of what you think of him, it’s a great honour. I hope you don’t mind that I told Will, though he planned on writing you himself so perhaps you already knew I did. I don’t think he was particularly pleased, but you know how Will is.
You must wonder why I’m not beside myself with worry. I have faith in Gaius and I know he would never see you harmed. Still, you must remember to be respectful to the Pendragons and be careful who you trust. It broke my heart to see you go, but you have a chance at a new life. I can only hope it’s the one you deserve. Stay safe.
All my love,
Mother.

Dear Merlin,
As selfish as it is, I can’t help but wish you never had to return to Camelot. I can at least take comfort in the knowledge you have such wonderful friends by your side. Even Arthur, though you won’t admit it. He seems a good man, if perhaps a bit spoiled. And the way he looks at you makes me certain no harm will come to you, even if you are discovered. It matches the look in your own eyes when his back is turned. I do not think you are as alone as you believe.
I know you are grieving Will. He was so much more than a friend to you, and it cannot be easy to remember how you fought. You must understand Merlin, that Will did not hate Arthur, nor did he truly want you to reveal yourself. He was afraid of what was to come and he would never have liked any noble, especially not one with whom you were so close. He came to me before the battle and demanded to know the nature of your relationship. He was afraid that Arthur was manipulating you, trying to take you from him as his father was taken. But he was not angry with you. He loved you, and love makes us act rashly. Will would not want you to grieve as I am sure you are.
I do not know when I will see you again. Know that I love you always, no matter how far you go from home. You will always be my son, and I your mother. I am so proud Merlin. I know now I was right to send you away. You were meant for something great. Perhaps it is something you’ve already found. Whatever it is, when it is through, I hope you know I will be with you celebrating every step of the way. Good luck.
All my love
Mother.

Merlin held the letter to his chest. He did not cry. He’d already mourned her in this way, centuries ago. But all the pain of losing her seemed to bubble to the surface, leaving him with a dull ache in his chest at the knowledge his family was gone. Will, Gaius, Hunith and Balinor were somewhere even he couldn’t reach, somewhere he would perhaps never go, and the thought made him feel completely hollow. The feeling had such a tight hold on him that he didn’t notice the others had all rushed to the window until Arthur gave him a gentle nudge.

“Merlin?” He said, an edge of worry to his voice “Come on, we have to get down to the lake”

“The lake?”

Arthur nodded. Carefully, Merlin placed his mother’s letter back in the chest and rushed over to the window, where he could see a figure rising from the water. His magic flared up and he took off at a sprint, gathering every bit of power he could in case this was the time something went wrong, determined not to lose Arthur again. Reading the letters had made him realise how relaxed he’d become. He’d let down his guard and now if anything happened to his friends it would be his fault, all his fault, and he had to save them before it was too late. Ahead of him, he saw Leon, Gwaine and Percival all collide with the figure and he began to run even more desperately, eyes now blatantly gold. He could hear Arthur chasing after him shouting something, but there was no time to listen, he had to get to them before it was too late, he had to keep Arthur back. His foot caught something and he tripped, launching himself forwards. He was about to hit the pavement when a hand on the back of his shirt caught him.

Arthur was looking at him in shock, as though he hadn’t expected such a response.

“Are you okay?”

Merlin’s voice shook.

“It’s dangerous they shouldn’t have gone alone, I have to save them before it’s too late I have to-”

“Merlin” Arthur said softly “Look”

Over by the water, the knights were embracing the figure. It turned to face them and Merlin felt a combination of joy and terror go through him. He fought to keep it down as the others led Elyan over.

Arthur gave him a one-armed hug, clearly reluctant to let go of Merlin in his current state. He was grateful for the steadying grip on him as he tried to make a list of all the things Elyan didn’t know, everything they’d have to explain. He greeted the knight, who seemed distracted himself, looking around nervously.

“Where’s Gwen?”

Everyone went still. Arthur dropped Merlin’s hand in shock before recognising his mistake and reaching for it again. Merlin snatched his hand away and he silently cursed himself. How the hell was he supposed to explain that in a way Merlin wouldn’t immediately doubt. As Percival began suggesting they head back to the house, Leon’s gaze flicked between the couple. There was an obvious question in his eyes but before Arthur could answer it, Merlin shook his head ever so slightly. Arthur turned to say something to him, but he’d already followed the rest of the group up the path.

Sitting around the circular table in the kitchen suddenly felt much more important with Elyan back. Had Lancelot been there it would have been exactly as it was when they first formed. Everyone seemed unsure of what to say as their newly returned friend stared at his surroundings. It was Merlin who finally broke the silence.

“Do you remember what happened when we went to rescue Gwen from Morgana?”

“I died” Elyan said, confused.

Merlin nodded. “Well, after that, things started to fall apart. Morgana was gathering her forces. And then one day, we came across a druid girl on a hunting trip, Kara. Mordred knew her, he told me he loved her, and so he helped her escape. I knew where he was hiding her, but when she was discovered, there was nothing to be done. She tried to kill Arthur and I was forced to act. She and Mordred tried to escape and a guard was killed. They were nearly out when you lot caught them”

He gestured towards the knights. He seemed fully caught in the story as he looked at Arthur.

“I tried to warn you. I fought for her as best I could. But she refused to take the chance she was offered. Mordred was imprisoned and Kara was…”

“Executed” Arthur finished. He’d never heard the story from Merlin’s perspective before and he wasn’t sure he liked it. It made it much too easy to see why Mordred had turned on them.

“But if you knew they were going to escape, why didn’t you tell Arthur yourself?” Elyan asked.

Merlin sighed. When he looked up at Elyan his eyes were glowing gold. Not for the first time, Arthur wondered how he could have ever thought it evil. Merlin always looked handsome, but with his eyes lit up like they were now, he looked downright flawless. It gave him an ethereal look, and Arthur almost didn’t dare speak in fear he’d fade away into another realm. He was so busy admiring his boyfriend, he almost didn’t notice the fear in Elyan’s eyes.

“You’re a sorcerer. Like the boy who possessed me”

“I wanted to tell you. All of you. But I was scared of what you would do” Merlin sighed and returned to his story “Mordred had magic too. He would talk to me, in my head, sometimes. We both felt it when Kara died. He betrayed us. He joined with Morgana and told her that I was the sorcerer protecting Arthur. She took my magic and used the Saxons to wage war on Camelot. I got it back, I managed to defeat the Saxons, but I couldn’t stop Mordred. By the time I found him…” His voice broke and Arthur automatically wrapped an arm around him.

“Mordred dealt me a mortal wound” He explained to a horrified looking Elyan “Merlin brought me here, hoping to heal me, but Morgana found us”

“That was my fault” Gwaine interjected “It was the last thing I did before Percy found me. I died not long after”

Arthur shook his head. “You did your best Gwaine. Plenty of men wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did. Morgana attacked us and Merlin killed her. We reached the lake but it was too late”

“Gwen was made Queen as Arthur’s dying wish” Leon said “Not long after he came back to Camelot, Merlin left again. I came to see if he was here. I fell asleep by the lake and just never woke up”

“Gwen was a good Queen” Percival added “She even brought back magic for a time, but the people were suspicious. By then I was the only Knight of the Round Table left. Some people thought Merlin had cursed us. It probably only got worse after I was gone”

“Now you’re all back” Merlin said conclusively “I was told Arthur would return in Albion’s greatest hour of need and I’ve been waiting for that for centuries. I think Avalon is getting us all together so we can be ready. All we need now is Lancelot and then…”

“We fight” Elyan guessed.

A series of nods went around the room.

“We don’t expect Guinevere to come back Elyan” Arthur said gently, though he imagined his tone was less comforting than he’d hoped. “She’s not as skilled with a blade as the rest of us, and unless I’m completely dense-” He could see Merlin fighting the urge to comment “-she can’t fight with magic like Merlin. She’d be in danger if she came back”

He paused at his own words. He glanced over at Merlin and felt something click into place. Something that had been upsetting him since the knights started returning. Something he wouldn’t tell Arthur, but would happily talk to Gwaine about, that made him panic at the news of something happening at the lake. It occurred to him that Merlin hadn’t even wanted to come back to Avalon in the first place. Now that he was looking for it, it was easy to see the fear in Merlin’s eyes, as expertly as he tried to hide it. He thought back to the look in Merlin’s eyes the other day and how his voice had faltered when telling Elyan about Mordred, the worried glance in Arthur’s direction. The reality of his situation seemed to hit him all at once. He was here to save Albion in its greatest hour of need.

And Merlin thought he was going to die in the process.

The realisation took mere seconds, but Arthur felt as though he spent an eternity staring at the dark haired man beside him. At some point Merlin looked over and a horrible understanding seemed to pass between them, that each knew exactly what the other was thinking and neither could do anything to change the other’s mind. Ever so slightly, Arthur shook his head but Merlin’s only response was to look away. He suddenly seemed much older, centuries of age appearing at once on his face. Once more, Arthur felt completely lost. He had no idea what he could do or say to make it better, and a part of him thought maybe nothing could, so he did the only thing he could think of and held onto him, joining their free hands together. Merlin’s grip was just as strong as his, maybe even more so and for that moment, it was like they were the only things keeping each other in reality.

They were broken from their trance by Elyan giving them a strange look. Both of them glared right back, daring him to say anything. Arthur understood, after all Elyan had been his wife’s brother. If he thought Gwen’s honour was being challenged he had to defend it. It didn’t mean he felt guilty. His feelings for Guinevere had been genuine and he had been faithful. Had they not burned up in the fire Merlin set at Camelot, Arthur happily would have shown him the letters that proved as much. Besides, the simple fact now was that Arthur was no longer married and Elyan could hardly accuse him of an affair he wasn’t having. The knight seemed to acknowledge this and nodded slowly.

“So my sister is dead”

A silence overcame the room as everyone acknowledged their loss. Not only of Gwen, but everyone who hadn’t been returned. Arthur found himself thinking of Morgana. He wondered, if things had been different, would news of her death have made him feel as Elyan did now, instead of relief? They had been that close once, in childhood, but his father had been adamant that he was never to call her sister, and so Arthur had never dared. Then Morgana had grown up and done terrible things, all out of hatred for him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he thought maybe somewhere in between, he had grown to hate her too. His grief wasn’t for her, only for what might have been.

Now, he looked around the room and saw his own emotion reflected in the faces of his friends. Everyone seemed struck by how truly out of time they were. They had no one in this strange new world. Except each other. Breaking Merlin’s grip, Arthur placed his free hand on Elyan’s shoulder. Leon moved to sit between Elyan and Percival, one arm around each of their shoulders. Gwaine mirrored the action with Merlin, his other hand slipping into Percival’s. What had always been like a second family suddenly felt like more. It had to be, Arthur realised, if they were to win against whatever was coming and stay sane in this place. This was all they had left of their world, this little circle, still missing a piece, that was about to go through hell. When all else failed, they would have nothing but each other. It was an ominous thought and yet strangely comforting. The others clearly felt it too. They stayed like that for a while, as a light drizzle began outside.

The rain hit against the surface of the lake, creating ripples that glowed warmly in the faded afternoon sun.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been a bad life. Painful perhaps, much too painful, but not bad. And she trusted her named heir to care for the kingdom. There was a sort of relief in death for her. She longed for her father, for her brother and friends. She longed for Arthur. She never remarried, even as they tried to make her, never again wavered as she once had. He was waiting for her, she knew he was.

The weight of the letter in her pocket seemed to grow for a moment. She wondered where Merlin was, if he was okay, or if his grief had finally overcome him. She was sure he would be. He was more powerful than she could ever know. They would all be fine. And soon she would be with the ones she loved, reunited with her husband after all this time. Her eyes closed as she fell into a dream.

The heavy silk of her dress weighed her down as she floated below the surface. She felt oddly young, as she had been before she became queen. She opened her eyes to see a light dancing above her. Something whispered that Arthur was beyond it, Arthur and Elyan and Merlin and the others. She began to swim, her dress trailing behind her as the lake brought her to them.

Gwaine made a vomiting noise as he entered the room to find Arthur and Merlin curled up together in an armchair opposite the TV. Merlin shot him a dirty look, eyes flashing gold and laughed as the popcorn he was carrying exploded in his face.

“I’ll get you back for that” He warned, dropping into the sofa.

“I’d like to see you try”

“You can hardly hold a sword”

“I wouldn’t test him Gwaine” Percival said, sitting next to him “You’ve not seen what he can do”

“He’d probably bring the whole house down on you” Leon added

Gwaine looked to Arthur for support but he simply shrugged.

“You have to admit, he’s survived an awful lot” Elyan said.

Merlin grinned as he turned on him.

“Alright then almighty Emrys. Give us a demonstration”

He paused for a minute debating what spell to use. Then a surge of power went through him and the room was suddenly filled with little glowing butterflies.

“The horror!” Elyan shouted, falling to his knees.

Percival cried out in terror. Leon fell at his feet. They looked at Arthur expectantly.

“I don’t count” He explained.

Merlin considered hitting him with something, but instead nodded sagely.

“Only because you’re handsome and I can’t be bothered to find another one. Skive off the dishes once more though and you’re on thin ice”

They all burst out laughing again. Merlin noticed Gwaine’s arm carelessly slung around Percival and smiled before grabbing Arthur’s hand and pulling him out of the room as the others continued joking around.

It was slightly cold as he led them outside and the sun was just beginning to set. Arthur looked back at the front door curiously.

“What about the film?” He asked.

“We’ve seen it. Besides,” Merlin added “I want to spend time with you while we can”

“Merlin” He frowned “I told you already. We’re going to win this time”

Arthur followed after him as he continued to lead them down to the shore. When he looked back at him, Merlin was struck by how serious his face was and looked away. He couldn’t bear seeing Arthur so certain of victory when realistically they only had a few days before it started. Once Lancelot came back it would be living on borrowed time. And no matter how generous the gods decided to be, it still wouldn’t be long enough. They had reached the lake now and they stood by the water as Merlin pulled Arthur to face him.

“Merlin…”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we will win. But what happens then?” He asked “Are you allowed to stay? Am I still immortal? I want to believe we’ll be okay, I really do, but we don’t know anything about what happens after this fight. And I’m afraid that if anything happens to you…I don’t think I can do it again Arthur. I love you, but I don’t think I’d survive waiting again”

He could feel tears sliding down his face as Arthur stared back at him. The qorry in his eyes made Merlin immediately regret his outburst. He looked down at their joined hands, knowing Arthur wasn’t comfortable expressing himself in the same way he was. Even after all of this time, Merlin’s hands were still those of a serving boy, just as Arthur’s were the hands of a knight.

“It should have been this, shouldn’t it?” Arthur said quietly “If we’d made it, back then, it should’ve been like this”

Merlin looked up at him in surprise. They rarely spoke about that day, and when it was mentioned it was always quickly pushed aside. Now the Arthur was looking at him, vulnerable in the way he only ever was when they were alone, and he felt his chest tighten.

“I wanted to tell you I loved you”

“I know. I wanted to tell you the same thing”

“I love you so much Merlin. And I’m not going to let them separate us this time”

“Neither am I”

Merlin stared at him and thought about all the time he’d waited. This one moment seemed to make it all worth it. In moments like these it didn’t seem to matter and all his worries for the future and sorrow for the past seemed to melt away. What mattered was now and right now he was looking at the man he loved and wondering how he could have ever doubted it when the dragon told him their paths lay together. And suddenly, he thought back to the day they’d returned to Camelot and stood in the sunset like this, and how he’d almost asked a question but decided it was too soon. That had been months ago now, and in that time he’d only become surer of what it was he wanted. Arthur’s eyes searched his, and he was so certain that he was about to ask.

The kiss was warm and gentle. The world seemed to fade into background noise as they stood on the shore holding each other. And Merlin couldn’t seem to hold the words back anymore.

“Marry me” He whispered

Arthur had been about to kiss him again when Merlin whispered something. He’d obviously misheard. He’d barely heard it at all, his voice was so soft. And Arthur wasn’t lucky enough for him to have said what he thought he’d said. He opened his mouth to ask him to repeat it. But before he could, the world suddenly came crashing back into focus.

“Arthur?”

It was a woman's voice. One Arthur knew too well to ignore. And it sounded hurt.

Merlin took an automatic step back from him, looking horrified. Arthur didn’t dare move.

“Arthur” She repeated “What’s going on?”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was Merlin who spoke first.

“Gwen…” He said helplessly “I…”

Why was his voice so far away? He could feel her staring at him and it made him feel unsteady, like he was about to collapse.

“Arthur, look at me”

He stayed perfectly still, refusing to turn around. If he turned around he’d have to face her.

“Where’s my brother?” She demanded “Where’s Elyan?”

Merlin pointed to the house.

“We’ll take you” He said, moving to put an arm around her as he might have done in Camelot. Arthur looked over just in time to see Guinevere dodge the gesture, hastening her steps so she was walking slightly ahead of them. She was clutching at her skirts, the way she often did when she was upset or nervous. He grabbed Merlin’s arm and pulled him back slightly so they wouldn’t be heard.

“We need to think of something to say” He whispered.

“Obviously”

Merlin rolled his eyes but the fear in them was still visible.

Gwen wasn’t sure what to think. She was sitting on the staircase with Elyan, who’d just finished explaining things to her. Well, most things. There’d been no mention of what was going on between Merlin and Arthur. She could still see them standing by the lake. They’d looked so happy. It was silly that her heart was breaking so badly. Hadn’t she known Merlin loved Arthur? And hadn’t part of her always known that Arthur loved him back?

She supposed it was that she’d denied that part, however insistent it got. She’d allowed herself to think that they loved each other as friends or brothers did. In hindsight it was foolish to think Arthur could only love her, if he’d ever loved her at all. She of all people knew what it was to love two people at once. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed to find Lancelot missing from the group. At the same time, it made sense she hadn’t realised. After all, she’d only discovered Merlin’s feelings from his letter.
That letter. She’d carried it with her from the day she found it, lying in Merlin’s chambers. Even now, she reached into the pocket of her dress and was met with the feeling of aged paper. She’d read it so many times she didn’t even need to look at it anymore. She could recite it as easily as she could her own name.

Gwen,
I hate that I have to write this letter. You’ll hate me for what it says, but I have no choice. I’ve decided to leave Camelot. And I won’t return.
I wish I could see the kingdom you’ll bring about Gwen, I do. But I can’t be here if not at Arthur’s side. I don’t think I need to tell you why. You know me, and deep down I think you’ve always known the truth. I should have admitted it, but I feared it would cause a rift and it was never my intention to come between you.
I know what you’re thinking. You intend to stay. Maybe you think me a coward for running, maybe you’re wondering if you should feel the way I do. I don’t think you should. We share the same grief and probably always will, but you’re stronger than me Gwen. It’s much for me, too many memories and twice as many what ifs. I can’t bear it anymore.
And what of you and those I love? I’ve lost so much already and I can’t sit and watch you fade away while I stay the same. Know that if I believed I could survive it, I would have stayed. Tell Gaius I’m sorry. I hope that you’ll do me one final favour by not looking for me. I won’t be found.
Know that Arthur loved you with all his heart and that I will miss you every day. You are a true friend Guinevere, the truest friend I ever had, and I know you’ll make a great queen. I’m sorry I won’t get to see it.
All my love,
Merlin

The kitchen door opened to reveal Arthur and Merlin, illuminated by the strange lights in the house. Elyan nodded slightly and stood, walking to the door. Gwen was surprised when Merlin followed him, leaving only herself and Arthur, who awkwardly closed the front door behind him and cautiously approached her.

“May I sit?” He asked.

She nodded.

“I’m sorry Guinevere. I should have told you”

“I don’t understand. We were happy, I know we were”

“Yes”

“But you love him?”

“I’ve always loved him” He said guiltily “We were together for a while. I was terrified of what my father would do to him if he ever found out. And there were already rumours about the Prince having feelings for a servant. They were about you of course, someone overheard us talking and made assumptions, but they were beginning to circle the truth and I knew if they did begin to suspect Merlin, I wouldn’t be able to protect him. So I started courting you”

Her throat tightened as she stood up. “All those times you said you wanted to be with me?”

“I meant it. I do love you Guinevere”

“So then what were you doing?” She cried.

The irony of it clearly wasn’t lost on either of them. He refused to meet her eyes, his hands in tight fists. She leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, barely holding back her tears. She remembered that day, remembered how hurt she’d been by his anger over what she’d been unable to control. She squeezed her eyes tightly and looked back at him.

“I’m sorry” She said in a softer voice as she sat back down “That was stupid…”

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not. If it is then we’re both idiots”

In spite of herself she smiled slightly.

“I love you Guinevere” He began “I wanted to marry you. I loved you, but I could never stop thinking about what might have been with Merlin if not for us. We ended things before you and I were married. I was faithful to you. Then when I came back, you were gone and Merlin and I had another chance. And now... he means everything to me”

“All those years I waited for you. You were always waiting for someone else”

“I’m so sorry”

Gwen’s heart was shattering as she sat back down and took his hands.

“I know” Her voice was shaking “I think I’ve always known. Me and Lancelot, now you and Merlin. We love each other but it’s never enough. You deserve someone you can love with everything you have Arthur. And that’s not me”

He nodded. “You do too. Lancelot’s a lucky man”

“So is Merlin”

The understanding filled her with a strange calmness, and her hands were surprisingly steady as for the first time since their wedding, she slid the ring off her finger and pressed it in his hand. Arthur reached into his shirt and pulled out a thin leather cord with his own wedding ring. He unclasped it and handed it to her. It felt almost ceremonial and it gave her an unexpected sense of catharsis. They’d had a happy marriage, but they both could be happier. Now they were free to do so.

The door into the kitchen opened slightly as Merlin stuck his head round the corner.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything”

Gwen managed a small smile that was only slightly forced.

“It’s alright Merlin”

Even if a part of her was still angry at him, she couldn’t help but think there was something endearing about the cautious way he closed the door behind him and approached so he was standing in the hall looking at them expectantly, as though awaiting instructions. That was the problem with Merlin. No matter how much you wanted to, you could never completely hate him. Even Mordred, who Merlin had openly despised, had been desperate to earn his trust at first. It was as though everyone who met him fell in love with him in their own way. Glancing over at Arthur, she saw the familiar combination of exasperation and affection cross his face and wondered how she could have ever missed it.

“I’ll give you two a moment” She said awkwardly. As she crossed the room she stopped and pulled Merlin into a tight hug.

“I missed you Gwen” He whispered

“I’m still angry at you for leaving” She warned, burying her face in his shoulder.

“I still regret it”

“Good” She looked up and saw Arthur waiting. She gave Merlin one last hug before she went out into the kitchen.

As the door closed behind her, Gwen took a deep breath. She felt strange. She was relieved, but at the same time, she was hurting. The pain would stop eventually though. After all, it couldn’t be long until Lancelot arrived. Then maybe both she and Arthur could have a second chance with the men they’d been unable to love.

Arthur watched as Merlin took a seat on the floor opposite him. The sorcerer’s eyes were studying him closely, anxiously waiting for him to say something. He was currently trying to think of how to explain what had just happened. Guinevere was obviously still hurt, but she had been the one to openly say they should end things. She’d looked heartbroken, but her eyes had lit up at the mention of Lancelot. Arthur wasn’t sure how he felt himself. He was sad his marriage with Guinevere was over, there was definitely some pain, but at the same time he was happy they’d been able to resolve things so neatly. Looking at Merlin, he certainly didn’t regret it. It was a lot to put into words. Especially when talking about feelings wasn’t his strong suit to begin with. So he kissed him and hoped it got the point across.

It seemed to, because when he pulled back, Merlin was staring at him with hopeful, but still wary, eyes.

“You and Gwen?”

“We sort of got divorced”

An all too familiar look of worry came over Merlin’s face.

“She’s not angry is she?” He asked

Arthur shook his head. “It was her idea. I think she’s going to wait for Lancelot”

Merlin nodded thoughtfully. Arthur smiled and held out a hand which Merlin took with a smile of his own.

“So…you and me?”

“You and me” Arthur confirmed.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it, instead letting the silence between them continue. Or it would have had the action not reminded Arthur of what had happened before Gwen had revealed herself.

“Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“On the beach…before Gwen showed up…did you say something?” Arthur could hear the hopefulness in his own voice.

Merlin hesitated for just a moment, but it was a moment long enough to tell Arthur he had been asking something, it had been important, and he was rethinking it now. Then his boyfriend’s face returned to normal and he shrugged.

“I don’t remember”

The lie was painfully obvious. Arthur was about to press him further when he heard a shout come from the kitchen and Merlin sighed.

“I’ll deal with it” He said

He stood and walked off into the kitchen, leaving Arthur alone on the stairs. As soon as he was gone the former king groaned and pressed his forehead against the wall.

“Shit”

He was almost certain Merlin had said what he thought he had. He couldn’t blame him for not asking again after today. The question was, would he ask again? And if he did, what would Arthur say? He was definitely too tired to be thinking about it now. He rose and made his way up the stairs, collapsing into Merlin’s side of the bed. He’d be annoyed when he found him there, but Arthur was too exhausted to care. He closed eyes and drifted off, thinking for a moment that he heard a voice calling him from outside.

Downstairs, Merlin dropped the glass he was holding and began to sprint upstairs.

Chapter Text

“Arthur!” Merlin sounded terrified as he raced up the stairs, followed closely by Gwen and the knights. His eyes were blazing gold and the house shuddered slightly as every single protective ward on the house tripled. The voice continued to whisper into his mind, and though it felt like it was coming from outside, he had no way to be sure. Once he might have trusted his own judgement, especially knowing he was likely just as powerful as anything that could seek to harm them, but out was a risk he didn’t dare take. The door to their bedroom slammed open.

Arthur lay, perfectly unharmed, his face buried in Merlin’s pillow.

Leon scanned the room intently.

“There’s no danger” He announced, giving Merlin a rather worried look.

The sorcerer shook his head. “No, I heard it…didn’t you hear her?”

Gwen wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Hear who Merlin?”

Arthur mumbled something that was unintelligible to everyone but Merlin and Gwen, who exchanged frightened looks as the King continued to talk in his sleep. Just as Elyan opened his mouth to ask what had scared his sister, Arthur spoke again, this time clearly enough for them all to understand.

“Morgana…”

It was silent for a long time before Merlin spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

“Kitchen. Now”

Everyone took their seats around the table, leaving two empty seats where Arthur and Lancelot should have been. At some point on the way downstairs, Percival had put an arm around Gwaine, who was looking unusually pale. Elyan and Leon were whispering amongst themselves anxiously. Gwen reached for Merlin’s hand under the table and despite the current situation he felt a tiny bit of relief that despite everything they were still Merlin and Gwen. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he addressed the rest of the group.

“We can’t tell Arthur” He announced.

Gwaine raised his eyebrows in confusion. Elyan and Percival looked equally uncertain. It was Leon who had the most immediate reaction, shaking his head.

“You’re not serious?” He asked “We have to tell him”

“No you don’t”

“It’s treason Merlin! We can’t lie to our King!”

“Arthur’s not King anymore though, is he?”

Leon sighed, as though Merlin were missing something obvious.

“Even if he isn’t King” He said in an annoyingly patient voice “Arthur is very clearly the target. If we don’t tell him, then he won’t be prepared when Morgana comes after him. He would want to know. It’s his right to know”

Merlin wasn’t sure if it was the patronising explanation or the implication that he didn’t know how his own boyfriend thought, but suddenly he had dropped Gwen’s hand and was on his feet, glaring at Leon across the table.

“You’re right Leon. Arthur would want to know. And of course you don’t want to lie to him. I can understand that” The calm in his voice was completely at odds with the way his heart was pounding in his chest. “So you know what? You go tell him. And when he goes and gets himself killed by trying to take her on by himself, then you can come back here and answer to me”

Leon gave him an odd look.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes”

The knight frowned.

“That’s not like you, Merlin” He said.

Elyan nodded slightly.

“He’s right. Maybe you should have a rest while the rest of us talk strategy”

“What?”

Percival moved away from a scowling Gwaine to put a gentle hand on his back.

“Come on mate, I’ll take you upstairs”

Merlin took a hasty step away from him.

“I’m fine” He insisted. “I just-”

“Merlin, please, just let us handle this for once” Leon said “You’re clearly upset”

He could feel his face turning red. It was like being back at Camelot when they would ignore his advice. Well where had that led them? He knew how they saw him, like a little brother. They cared for him, they wanted to protect him, watch over him. He appreciated it, he really did. But it wasn’t the same way they cared for and protected each other. Merlin was the person you kept away from the fight, not the one you took battle strategy from. He wasn’t a person you respected in the way the way they respected themselves. It wasn’t their fault, he knew that. They’d never seen him fight, they couldn’t possibly know what he’d done, what he’d suffered to keep them safe. They could wield swords well enough, but Merlin could wield nature itself if they’d give him the chance. It was an odd situation he found himself in. His friends knew of his power, but they’d only seen him use it for the most mundane things. He told himself all of this in a desperate effort to keep calm, it wasn’t their fault, they didn’t understand, how could they possibly understand what they’d never seen?

Then he saw the worry in the three men’s faces as they continued to tell him how tired he was, how he really should just let them handle the strategy. And even if he knew it was coming from a place of genuine love and concern. He couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up!” He yelled “For once will all of you just shut up and listen to me!”

“Merlin, what’s gotten into you?” Leon demanded

“I don’t know Leon! Maybe it was the thousands and thousands of years of nothing but waiting! Maybe that changes a person! Maybe I was tortured by my own guilt for centuries and just maybe, I’ve been planning for something like this that whole time! None of you gets it, do you? I’m not a child! And if any one of you would just listen for a moment, you might realise what was actually going on in Camelot. You were never protecting me. I was protecting you, I was protecting the kingdom and I was protecting Arthur. And it would have been nice to have some fucking help! For one of you to listen to what I was saying, about Mordred, about the druids, about anything! And now there’s nothing stopping you from listening except your own damn pride, so maybe for once, sit down and listen to someone who actually understands the first thing about magic and how all this works and maybe then we’ll have a chance to make it out alive!”

Gwaine didn’t move from his chair, but nodded slightly.

“I’m with Merlin” He turned to the sorcerer. “I made you a promise. We’re not losing him”

Gwen rose from her seat and stepped between Merlin and the other knights.

“Merlin knows Arthur better than anyone. And he’s the only one with any experience in things like this” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I trust his judgement”

Percival walked back to his seat.

“You’re right. We should have listened to you then”

Elyan followed suit and sat back down.

“We’ll listen now”

Everyone looked to Leon, who stared back at Merlin in shock.

He nodded and took a seat. Merlin smiled at him gratefully.

Gwaine leaned forward slightly.

“Alright Emrys. What’s the plan?”

The water in the lake looked darker than usual as Merlin stood in front of it. It was getting close to midnight now, maybe slightly past actually, and it was definitely near freezing. It was strange to think that only a few hours ago he’d stood here and asked Arthur to marry him. It felt stupid now. They’d left it too late and missed their chance. The presence in the lake was coming, Morgana was coming, and she would see to it that what little pieces of life they’d managed to scrape together were destroyed unless Merlin was very, very lucky.

The water felt like ice as he walked into it, pulling every bit of magic he could into himself, focusing on what he was and what he wanted. The feeling of cold water seemed to vanish around him so that even as he stood waist deep in the lake, it felt as though he were standing out on the shore. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on the surface of the water and began.

“Ic pro styrman lýtesne ðone as wæter−scipe”

The water stirred slightly.

“Ic pro styrman lýtesne ðone as wæter−scipe”

He felt a faint pull, like something was resisting the command.

“Ic pro styrman lýtesne ðone as wæter−scipe!” He shouted “Ic pro styrman lýtesne ðone as wæter−scipe!”

Something broke in his chest and the magic came flowing through him completely unrestrained. Merlin could feel his skin growing warmer and suddenly he was saying words that weren’t his, even though he understood them as clear as day.

“Ic pro ûtm¯æran sê w¯æl! Ic pro spôwan êow! Ðú onspr¯æc hnot forcweðan!”

The surface of the water turned gold and burst, spraying Merlin with water as the trance broke. He gasped for air as a figure rose from the water. Her white dress dripped with water, and she held a sword in one hand. Her eyes found his and she smiled warmly.

“Hello Merlin”

Her voice had an unnatural echo to it that made the others shudder from where they stood on the beach. Merlin returned her smile.

“Freya”

“I cannot stay here too long” She warned “The barriers of Avalon weaken with each moment I remain”

“So it’s you, controlling the barriers?” Merlin asked.

“I can only open them as the gods command” She said, a touch of sadness in her inhuman voice “I cannot give you Lancelot, nor can I stop the forces that are coming”

Merlin looked at her with pleading eyes.

“There must be something to be done”

“I can prepare you. That is all. The moment approaches. When it comes Merlin, you must drop your pretences and remember what you are, what you might have been” She offered him the sword. “It is time for Arthur to be reunited with Excalibur. You must see to it he does not strike a blow with it until it is hit by another blade”

“If he does?”

“His death is as certain as it was then. But he must carry it”

Merlin took the sword carefully and nodded.

Freya looked back down at the water.

“I must return. Lancelot will be with you before long. Morgana will come soon after. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help Merlin”

“You’ve done more than enough”

She smiled.

“Goodbye”

The last of the gold faded from the lake, leaving Merlin standing alone in the freezing water. He walked back to the shore and ignored the other’s questions as they went back to the house.

While everyone else clustered in the kitchen, he walked straight into the back garden, over to the little strawberry plant he kept in the corner and let his legs give out. He’d thought about contacting Freya a lot while he was waiting for Arthur. This was why he’d never tried before. He felt completely drained after using so much magic at once, and it wasn’t likely he’d have the strength to do much for at least a day. He’d figured out a long time ago that contacting Avalon would require huge amounts of magic and a level of mental and physical control he still struggled with. If you were going to do it properly you had to be willing to give yourself up in exchange. He was certain if he’d tried it in Camelot the effort would have killed him. Merlin groaned and lay back so that the fence was propping him up. Lifting his head was too hard right now.

And then there was the emotional toll seeing Freya took. It was mostly guilt. Freya had all but confessed her love for him and yet he hadn’t intervened when Arthur and the knights attacked. Just remembering the fight made him feel sick, the thought of how he’d stood there, desperately wanting to save Freya but knowing he’d never be able to harm Arthur.

Oh gods, Arthur. He needed to give him the sword, but he highly doubted he’d make it past the first stair. And giving Arthur the sword meant explaining himself, which would cause a whole argument he couldn’t really be bothered to have. It also meant Leon had been proven right, which was really just irritating. He knew the knight wouldn’t say anything about it, but both of them would know. Not to mention he had to figure out what the hell Freya had meant. Why could nobody ever just explain what they meant? Being cryptic really didn’t help anyone in the end.

So instead of dealing with the issues right now, Merlin stared up at the sky and let the world fade to black.

Down at the lake a faint white glow began to dance along the water as the end began.

Chapter Text

He had watched his last few days from a distance. He’d tried desperately to intervene, but no matter what he did he couldn’t gain control. So he watched. He watched himself draw closer and closer to Gwen, saying things he would not have dared say, crossing lines he would not have dared cross. He watched the doubting looks she gave Arthur, while the King’s eyes began to brew with suspicion. Once the enchantment was in place it all erupted. Arthur raged and stormed against his would-be Queen, and Gwen wept and begged forgiveness. Amongst the ruins of it all, Lancelot received one final order and he watched himself carry it out. For a while it was dark, and he was frightened his actions had condemned him, that he was to stay trapped in his body forever. Then there was a light, a soft gold against the shadows that encased him, and in it he could see Merlin staring down at him. He whispered a soft thank you that he wasn’t sure the sorcerer had heard and then laid down and felt himself fade into the glow.

Now, he felt as though he was being shaken by some unseen force. It was like being dragged from a peaceful sleep, and he was determined to resist. The shaking continued as he clung to the quickly fading peace. He fought and fought for days on end, even as he felt himself being pulled upwards.

Arthur thought he should probably be concerned about finding his boyfriend asleep in the garden. He couldn’t really find the strength though. Merlin did strange things all the time, Arthur had accepted long ago that it was easier not to question them. He lightly nudged the sorcerer with his foot and got a faint whine in response.

“Merlin, what the hell are you doing?”

“Go away.”

“You realise you’re in the garden?”

“Tired.”

“Why are your clothes wet?” Arthur asked, noticing that his jeans and the bottom of his shirt were dark with water.

Merlin said something incoherent into the ground.

Arthur sighed and carefully helped him to his feet, letting him use him as support so he didn’t fall over. As Merlin stumbled forwards, there was a faint clang. Arthur turned and his eyes fell on the sword lying on the ground. Instinctively, he reached out to take it, only stopping himself when he felt Merlin slipping out of his arms. At the last minute, he caught him.

“Excalibur.” Merlin said quietly. “You have to take it.”

More carefully this time, he reached for it. It felt perfectly weighted in his hand, so that he could hardly tell where his arm ended and the sword began. Merlin pressed his face into his shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t use it.” He muttered urgently. “Promise you won’t use it until it’s struck with another blade.”

“Merlin-”

“Promise me.”

“Okay.” He said gently “Okay, I promise.”

He felt Merlin relax against him and began to lead him inside. He looked awful. Dark hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and he looked even paler than usual. Not to mention the water dripping from his clothes onto the kitchen tiles.

“Come on.” Arthur sighed. “Let’s get you out of those wet things and into bed.”

Despite his apparent exhaustion, Merlin opened his mouth to say something.

“Don’t you dare!” Arthur warned.

They both started laughing, and Merlin pulled him closer so that their foreheads were touching. Arthur pushed some of the hair back from his boyfriend’s face and once again wondered what might have happened on the beach if Gwen hadn’t arrived.

As if on cue there was a small cough from the doorway.

Guinevere was looking extremely awkward in her new clothes, a knee length dress with tiny flowers dotting the fabric, a few curls had escaped from her bun and she had dropped her gaze from where they stood.

“Sorry. I can go if I’m interrupting.”

Arthur could feel himself turning redder by the second.

“Guinevere! It’s fine, really, I was just taking Merlin to get some rest.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry if we’re in your way, we’re just-”

“No, you’re not I should-”

“No we should really-”

“Arthur!” She said loudly. “It’s fine. I’m…I’m going to go for a walk anyway.”

He was half-tempted to go after her as she rushed out of the back door, but then he looked over at Merlin, who was still leaning on him unsteadily. He’d probably only do more damage if he went after her. It had been awkward all day, and it wasn’t something that was likely to end soon. Besides, Merlin needed him. So he pushed the thought of his former queen aside and began to help his boyfriend up to bed.

Gwen was walking away from the house as quickly as she could. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of her current situation. Arthur had told her it was common for people who were unhappy to end their marriages, but she guessed it was less common for them to continue living together with their new partners. Not that she had a partner herself. She suspected that was part of it. It didn’t seem wholly fair that Arthur had someone, while she was back to being on her own. That made her feel even more ridiculous. Merlin had waited much longer than she could ever imagine, and yet she still felt she was owed something for all those years alone. She missed Lancelot.

The paper she was clutching in her hand made her feel like a child. It was a stupid plan, but she felt she had to try.

Dear Lancelot,
This letter will probably never find you, wherever you are. I had to do something. There is a danger drawing ever closer, and though your presence will perhaps only hasten it, I can’t help but think you should be here by now. We need you.
Or maybe only I need you. I returned only a day ago, yet in that day I have lost not only my kingdom, but my husband as well. Arthur and I have agreed to end our marriage. It seems he and Merlin have been seeing each other for a while now. I’m happy for them, of course, but I’d be lying if I denied having any feelings for Arthur. It makes everything rather awkward. I can hardly tell if I’m jealous that Merlin has Arthur, or that Arthur has Merlin. I think it’s probably the latter though.
I’m doing a terrible job of explaining this. But I can’t explain what I don’t fully understand myself. All I know is that it would be so much easier if you were here to help me sort through all of it. I love you, and I miss you. Please come home.
Yours,
Gwen

The letter felt stupider and stupider with each step she took towards the lake. It would never work. The only thing she’d probably manage was ruining the tranquillity of the lake and angering whatever spirit Merlin had been talking to last night. She was about to turn back when she noticed the crowd of people standing at the edge of the beach.

As she got closer, Gwen realised they were gathered around a person. She couldn’t see them properly through the people clustered around them, but from the anxious muttering going on, she gathered that they were hurt and rushed forward to help.

She was just starting to push through when a hand grabbed her shoulder and she was brought face to face with an irritable looking woman.

“Excuse me young lady.” She said coldly “What do you think you’re doing?”

Gwen gave her a confused look.

“I’m trying to help.” She answered. “I know how to dress a wound if needed. Or I could go and get my friend, he doesn’t live far at all and he’s a very gifted healer.”

The woman frowned.

“Merlin Emrys?”

Gwen nodded, not liking the tone her voice took when she said Merlin’s name.

“So you’re one of his lot are you?” The woman didn’t wait for a response this time before continuing. “Was it you I heard last night, shouting and crying? You ought to remember there are neighbours about. As for this young man, I doubt there’s anything to be done for him. My husband found him washed up on the shore this morning, completely unconscious. Certainly nothing your friend can cure with his…plants.”

“I’ve seen Merlin do amazing things.” She replied, matching the woman’s sharp tone. “He trained under one of the cleverest men I’ve ever known. He has more experience than anyone else, and we may not have time to argue. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to get him!”

Just as the woman opened her mouth, a nearby man looked over.

“You on about getting a doctor?” He asked.

Gwen hesitated slightly.

“Someone who knows medicine.”

The man seemed satisfied and came forward.

“They live round here?”

“Merlin. Merlin Emrys.”

The man nodded. “I’ll run round and get him. You mind going to keep an eye on the poor bloke till we get back?”

“Of course not.”

The man rushed off without another word, and before the rude woman could say anything else, Gwen slipped into the crowd. It wasn’t too difficult to get through, most of them seemed to have overheard the conversation and gathered that they should move aside for her. At the centre of the crowd a young boy, no older than thirteen, and his mother were leaning over the figure of a man. As she walked towards them, the boy looked up at her anxiously and nudged his mother, who gave her an equally terrified look.

“Please tell me you’re a doctor.”

*She met the mother’s gaze. The poor woman was scared obviously out of her depth. Her son was just as lost, muttering to himself about first aid lessons he hadn’t paid attention to. From where she was standing, Gwen couldn’t see the man on the ground, but she could see the blood on the mother’s clothes. Something in her head leapt to attention. These people needed help, they needed guidance, and they needed it now. Finally, something she could do. Compared to looking Arthur in the eye, this was nothing. She brushed off her skirt and turned to them.

“No. But help is on the way, I promise. I’m going to stay with you until it’s here. Is he bleeding?”

The boy sounded close to tears when he spoke.

“I can’t make it stop.”

Gwen moved closer, so she could kneel down beside him.

“It’s alright, we just need to slow it down as much as we can. Do you think you could get me a towel to-”

She glanced over to the unconscious man. She saw his face. She saw the blood coming from the wound on his side. She screamed.*

“Get up!”

Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur standing over him, glaring at Gwaine. After a few seconds, he realised why, and sat up so he was no longer lying on the floor. Arthur held out a hand to help him up, and as he took it, Merlin noticed the panic on his face.

“What’s happening?”

“Mr Smith’s downstairs.” Arthur explained. “There’s a man down by the lake. They found him unconscious in the water, bleeding, it looks like he got thrown around by the current and he’s hurt his side. Gwen told him you might be able to do something, she’s down there trying to help him now. I don’t know what the hell you lot did last night, I know it took a lot of magic out of you but-“

“They need a physician, not a sorcerer.” He stood, still half using Arthur for support. “I can still help him.”

“Are you sure you’ll manage?” Gwaine asked “You look like the living dead.”

“It’s fine. Besides the lake’s not too…”

No. No, it couldn’t be. Not on top of everything else. Gods, Gwen. Gwen was down there. How long did he have until she saw? She’d probably already seen. He tried to run for the door but stumbled and landed in Gwaine’s arms.

“Merlin!”

“Calm down princess, I’ve got him.”

“We need to get down there.” Merlin insisted “Gwen needs me, they both need me.”

“Both?” Gwaine echoed.

Arthur went pale and wordlessly helped him up, practically carrying him as they rushed towards the door. Behind them, Merlin could hear Gwaine’s footsteps as he followed them downstairs and outside.

“What’s going on?” The knight demanded.

Merlin looked over his shoulder so he could see his friend.

“It’s Lancelot.”

Gwen was barely holding back tears as she pressed the towel to Lancelot’s side. The bleeding had slowed now, and the mother had reluctantly left her to go and fetch some bandages. She felt pathetic enough about her earlier outburst without the pitying looks the other woman was giving her. She was supposed to be good at dealing with emergencies, yet the sight of Lancelot lying on the ground had ripped straight through her. Even now her mind was racing with what it all meant. On the one hand, she had him back after all this time. On the other hand, Morgana was coming and there was no guarantee Lancelot would even wake up. She put even more pressure on the wound, hoping it would disguise the shaking of her hands.

When Merlin finally arrived, it did nothing to ease her mind. He looked worryingly pale and there were dark circles around his eyes. Gwen remembered how awful he’d looked this morning and looked away from him, realising he must have dragged himself from his sickbed to come help her. He was completely silent as he moved, unsteadily, to her side. He didn’t seem surprised to see Lancelot as he gently pushed her hand aside so he could see the injury. A few whispers went up through the crowd as people leaned in to see what was going on. Gwen had always thought there was something fascinating about watching Merlin at work. In Camelot, people had been even more enthralled by the sudden shift in his demeanour, the methodical way he examined patients and the precision with which he cured them. As he studied Lancelot, the mother and her son returned with a little box Gwen could only assume held medical supplies, and handed it to Merlin as though it were the most precious thing in the world. He thanked them and they scurried back into the crowd to watch with the others. After a while, Merlin looked up from his patient and exhaled.

“I’ve cleaned out the wound and bandaged it up, but he needs stitches and I don’t want to do it out here.” He announced. “If we get him back to the cottage, I’ll be able to do more.”

The rude woman from earlier sneered.

“And what gives you the right to take him in?” She asked.

Merlin glared at her.

“My uncle was an army doctor, I’ve been trained to deal with wounds like this since childhood.” He said calmly. “And even if that wasn’t the case, Lance is my friend, he was here to visit me and I’m not leaving his side until he’s healed. So unless you want me to stay at your house Gillian…”

A couple of people shrugged and came forward to help Arthur and Gwaine carry Lancelot back up to the house. Gwen saw a slight hesitation from Arthur, who looked back at Merlin and then to her. Carefully, she helped Merlin to his feet and Arthur seemed to relax slightly, turning his attention back to the task at hand. Merlin seemed reluctant to lean on her as he had been with Arthur, despite looking even worse than he had when he first arrived.

“I’m fine.” He said, seeing the concern on her face. “Just a bit…drained.”

“Merlin, what did that spell last night do to you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“It wasn’t just a summoning, was it?”

He didn’t answer.

“Merlin!” She hissed. “Tell me what you did last night!”

“It was a summoning. Just a complicated one.”

“Complicated?”

“I knew Freya would answer if she heard me. I just had to thin the barrier out a bit. But since Avalon is basically a pocket dimension…” He sighed. “It’s like trying to talk to someone through five stone walls. They’ll hear you eventually, but you’ll probably hurt yourself from all the shouting. Reaching into Avalon took a lot of power. It’s made my magic get a bit…restless.”

“Can that happen?”

“To me, apparently.” He said. “My limits are sort of self-imposed. Because I’m human, there are things I can’t do, but because I’m Emrys, I can do those things if I let go of my magic.”

“Let go of it? What do you mean?”

“I was the most powerful sorcerer in the world thousands of years ago. Magic grows over time. Who knows what could happen if I didn’t hold mine back.”

“Last night,” Gwen remembered “When you were chanting, you looked almost like you were glowing.”

“It felt like I was being taken over. It was my spell, but it didn’t feel like I was the one casting it. At first I just felt tired, but now…it feels wrong. Less like my magic’s within me and more like it’s trying to get out of me.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

“A few times. It takes a day or two for me to get control again. But it keeps getting harder to restrain.”

“Does Arthur know?” She asked looking slightly ahead.

Merlin stopped dead in his tracks and turned her so they were face to face.

“No.” He said darkly. “And you have to swear to me that no matter what happens you’ll never tell him. Or anyone.”

“Merlin-”

“Gwen. Please.”

She hated herself for doing it, but she couldn’t say no to him when he looked so fragile. So she nodded slowly.

“I swear.”

He gave her a grateful smile and resumed leaning on her as they headed up to the cottage.

When they arrived the people who’d helped Arthur and Gwaine with Lancelot were already leaving. As they entered the house, Merlin picked up speed, pulling away from Gwen and rushing towards the kitchen, leaning on the walls for support. The table had been cleared and covered in towels so Lancelot could be placed on it. The knights were gathered around him whispering amongst themselves anxiously.

“It’s started.” Leon announced.

“What’s started?” Arthur demanded “Will someone tell me what the hell happened last night?”

Merlin felt every eye in the room go to him and his throat tightened. He focused on Lancelot, not wanting to look Arthur in the eye. He couldn’t, not knowing what he was about to say. It had been foolish to think he could protect him from this forever, and yet he’d so badly wanted to. His hands curled into fists as he spoke, fighting against his emotions in fear of triggering his magic.

“We summoned the lady of the lake.” He said quietly. “And she gave us Excalibur and the warning I gave you this morning.”

“What else?”

It was painfully clear in his voice that he already knew. Merlin hated him a little for making him say it out loud, as much as he could ever bring himself to hate Arthur.

“She said the moment was coming. That once Lancelot arrived…” His eyes stung with tears. “Morgana would soon follow.”

There was silence.

Arthur nodded calmly and walked out of the room.

Chapter Text

Dear Father,
I really don’t know why I address these letters to you. I know you’d hate me if you could actually read them. Merlin calls it daddy issues, but Merlin’s an idiot. I suppose I’m just missing you. In spite of everything, you were my father. Perhaps you weren’t very good at it, but you were all I had. And right now, I wish you were here to advise me.
Morgana’s return isn’t far away. They’ve known for a whole day and they kept it from me. Their hearts were in the right place, I think. It was probably Merlin’s idea. He tries so hard to protect me from anything that might upset me. As if I’m incapable. Truthfully, I’m scared for him. He’s been alone for so long, he’s convinced he has to save us by himself. I don’t want him doing something stupid and getting killed. I don’t want to lose him again.
Seriously, why am I asking you for advice? You never liked Merlin and you’d have had him executed if you ever found out about us or his magic. You slaughtered his people in cold blood. You forced them into the shadows and called it evil when they sought retribution. It doesn’t really matter what you’d have thought, does it? As long as I stand with magic, I’ll be a disappointment to you no matter what I do.
Sometimes I wonder if Morgana had it right. She blamed you for all her suffering, and when she died that blame transferred to me. She should have been my sister. Instead I’m planning to kill her. And part of me can’t help but wonder why I’m still fighting the battles of a tyrant.

Arthur crumpled the bit of paper up and threw it out of the window. He should stop writing the letters. When he’d first returned, he’d written a few, hoping it would help him work out his feelings towards his family. It hadn’t taken long for him to realise that the issues of the Pendragons were too complicated to work through on paper. Uther would throw a fit if he saw him now. He’d gone insane when he found common men as knights and a serving girl as Queen, there was no telling what he’d do if he found Camelot reduced to a haunted pile of ruins and Arthur as a student living with his sorcerer boyfriend.

As though summoned by his thoughts, there was a light knock on the door.

“Arthur?”

He didn’t answer.

“It’s Merlin.”

No. He wasn’t giving in.

“I’m sorry. I just thought…” Merlin sighed. “I was scared, alright? All of a sudden it was Camelot, and you were in danger and the best way I knew how to protect you was to let you think you were safe. And I know it’s been hard for you, with Gwen coming back, and everyone being together again is bringing up a lot of emotions, I just didn’t want to burden you until-”

“Until what Merlin?” Arthur snapped. “Until Morgana had a blade to my throat?”

“No, I-”

“I’m already burdened Merlin. I worry about Gwen, about Lancelot and Elyan, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and most of all I worry about you. You’re obsessed with this idea of destiny-”

“I’m not, I just-”

“You are! You overthink and you overcomplicate-“

“I’m trying to protect you-”

“And it just makes things ten times worse than they would have been-”

“Arthur stop it, that’s not fair-”

“You don’t always have to get involved-”

“Shut up, just-”

“You think you’re some kind of martyr-”

“It’s my destiny to serve you-”

“I don’t want a servant you idiot!” He shouted. “I want you, Merlin, I want my boyfriend! And I want you to stop talking about your stupid destiny! Because in case you forgot, it’s my stupid destiny too. We’re meant to do this together, aren’t we?”

There was silence on both sides of the door for a while. When Merlin spoke, his voice was numb.

“I’ve tried to kill her before. Morgana, I mean. I made her drink poisoned water. She thought I was being kind. I hated myself for it, even if it was the right thing to do. She was a danger to Camelot, a danger to you. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still see the look on her face as she choked. She was crying. To be honest, so was I.” He paused, and though he couldn’t see through the door, Arthur knew he was fighting tears. “You don’t understand, Arthur. You can’t even begin to know how important you are to me, or imagine the things I’ve done to keep you safe. To protect you from the people and choices that would have hurt you. If I let you get hurt now, then all of that will have been in vain, just like it was the first time I lost you. Now I have a second chance, a chance to make it all mean something. So you don’t get to do this with me, because you don’t have to live with the things I do if it goes wrong. Alright?”

The worst part, Arthur thought, was that he wasn’t surprised. It was too easy to picture Merlin, his Merlin who grew flowers and conjured little pictures out of smoke and scared off animals on purpose during hunts, standing over a terrified Morgana and watching the life leave her eyes. He’d seen it once before, seen the sword go through his sister’s body as he lay dying, but knowing it wasn’t a first attempt unsettled him. It made him wonder how many others Merlin had betrayed. How many people had died because Emrys had fallen in love with his King? How many times had Merlin sacrificed parts of himself for Arthur’s sake?

He should have been disgusted, or disturbed. Instead, he was heartbroken. Because he knew Merlin, and he knew that the sorcerer would never harm anyone unless his hand was forced. And if he’d been willing to let Arthur suffer, he would have had another way. Faced with a choice between Arthur’s happiness and his own soul, Merlin had chosen Arthur.

Merlin stared at the door, tears blurring the edges of his vision. Slowly, the handle began to turn and his breath caught in his throat. He dropped his gaze before it opened. After what he’d just confessed, he doubted Arthur would ever want to look at him again. He didn’t blame him. Arthur had killed before, but never like that. Arthur would never do something so cruel and underhanded, least of all to someone who trusted him. His ears were ringing with the memory of it. It was terrifying how even after all these centuries he could remember the exact sound of Morgana gasping for air. Everything from that moment stayed with him in horrific detail. He could feel practically feel her hands trying to shove him away as he desperately tried to hold her, to tell her he was sorry, that it was the only way to protect Arthur. Arthur who would surely hate him now that he knew the truth, now that he knew how unworthy Merlin was of his very presence. He was everything Arthur had been taught to fear about sorcerers, everything Uther Pendragon had believed his kind to be. He could feel his eyes on him now, watching in silent judgement as yet another wound from a different lifetime reopened.

A hand firmly lifted his chin, demanding he face the Once and Future King, and as always, Merlin could not refuse him in spite of the pain it would cause. Arthur’s face was completely expressionless, but there was a resolve in his eyes that confirmed Merlin’s worst fears. He was a liar and a murderer. He had betrayed him in Camelot and he had betrayed him again today. It was over. There was nothing else it could mean.

Then Arthur kissed him.

Merlin felt the tension in his body break, and he was kissing him back desperately and Arthur was holding him just as fiercely. The grim reality that had hung between them mere seconds ago was forced out to make space for the two of them, and yet he could still feel it, driving them on with the constant threat of separation. Arthur broke the kiss, and in spite of himself Merlin let out a noise of disappointment that seemed even more childish when he saw the serious look on his face.

“No more secrets. Promise me, whatever happens we deal with it together.”

Merlin wasn’t sure why it suddenly sounded so right. Maybe it was the way Arthur said it, or the resolute look on his face that told him there was no arguing on this point. Maybe it was just that easy to manipulate him. But he nodded.

“Together. I promise.”

For a moment, they stood like that, foreheads pressed together as they studied each other intently. In any other situation, Merlin might have been the first to close the infuriating gap that kept Arthur barely inches out of his reach. Now though, they were staring the prospect of losing each other in the face, and he wanted this memory more than anything. This moment alone would be worth a century or two of waiting. He didn’t dare move until he was absolutely certain he’d acknowledged every single detail. Then he met his boyfriend’s eyes, silently asking for permission, and the two of them collided again as Arthur pulled him into their room and Merlin closed the door behind them.

Gwen jumped slightly at the dull thud that came from upstairs, almost dropping the cloth Merlin had told her to fetch after he’d finished working on Lancelot. Elyan raised an eyebrow slightly at the sound before slowly turning his attention back to his book. Leon frowned.

“What the hell are they doing up there?”

Percival shot Gwaine a warning look, but the knight was already grinning wickedly as he threw an arm around Leon’s shoulders.

“Sounds like Merlin’s teaching our dear princess some poetry.”

Leon scowled.

“I told you about that in confidence.”

“Can’t tell me anything Leon, you ought to know that by now.” He said, drawing a laugh from both Percival and Elyan.

Gwen went back to making sure Merlin’s handiwork stayed clean. She didn’t know exactly what they were talking about, but she had her guesses. There were more important things to worry about now. It certainly wasn’t worth thinking about. Lancelot stirred slightly in his sleep and for a moment, she thought of going to fetch Merlin, but quickly decided against it. He’d already done so a few times and hadn’t woken.

Behind her, the knights were still laughing. Gwen didn’t understand how they could, if she was honest. Lancelot was half dead, Morgana would be here any day, and even Merlin seemed to be struggling to find hope. She supposed it was second nature to them by now. When she’d asked Elyan about it in Camelot, he’d simply shrugged and told her it was easier to focus on the present than whatever monster they were facing down. She’d tried it herself before to no avail. Even now as she tried to focus on the present, she couldn’t think of anything but how bleak the present was. So she let herself sit quietly in her own fears and pretend that if she willed it hard enough, Lancelot would come back to her.
It was with that childish though in mind that she softly kissed his brow, before leaning down so she could whisper in his ear.

“I need you.”

Lancelot kept fighting, even as it got harder and harder to resist whatever was trying to pull him out of his little haven. He had realised some hours ago that he’d returned to his body, at least in some way, but stubbornly refused to let himself be returned. He shouldn’t have been able to return to his body at all, not after Merlin burned it, and he was almost certain that whatever was calling him back now was dark magic. He couldn’t let go. Whatever was trying to claim him, he wouldn’t let it use him to hurt his friends anymore. He had to stay this way in order to protect them, in order to protect Gwen. He couldn’t go back knowing the pain it would cause her.

Then he felt it. It must have been years since he’d felt anything. But clear as day, he could feel someone pressing a warm cloth to his side. He felt them lean over him and kiss him gently. And he heard her, her voice a sad, lonely whisper. And it didn’t matter if it was a trick, or dark magic. If there was the slightest chance Guinevere Pendragon needed him, he had to be at her side.

He let go.

He opened his eyes.

And he saw her.

Gwen’s heart stopped. The knights went silent and turned to stare at him. Lancelot couldn’t tear his eyes away from his Queen. A piece of crumpled paper fell from the open window upstairs, but nobody noticed as the wind carried it towards the lake, which glowed in the fading sunlight.

Below the surface, a set of chains was broken.

Chapter Text

She’d been so close.

He was already half dead. All she had to do was wait. Any minute now it would finally be over. Everything Uther had done to her, everything Arthur had done to Mordred and their people, and everything she’d done in the name of her revenge. Any minute now, she might find some peace.

It wasn’t the glorious moment she expected though. Arthur didn’t cower, he didn’t even speak. He just looked at her, sadness in his eyes where there should be fear. She hated him even more for it. She called him brother out of spite, and his stare became even more mournful. Arthur never truly hated her, she realised. He was willing to forgive her because she was his sister, because they were all they had left and Arthur was nothing if not pathetically sentimental. When fear finally did creep into his expression, it wasn’t her doing. It was Emrys, taking up his King’s sword and turning it on his own kind. The last thing she saw as she fell was her brother looking at her in horror, a whispered protest on his lips.

She didn’t know who brought her to Avalon, though she supposed she should be grateful. Nor did she know why she wasn’t asleep. The woman watching over them told her prophecies and gave her glimpses of the future, but she never learned why the others were allowed to sleep peacefully while she was chained to the bottom of the lake, unable to join them. Perhaps it was so that she had time to think. That was all she could really do to pass the time after all. After a few hundred years she reached the conclusion that maybe she wasn’t as justified as she’d thought. After all, Arthur had never really taken issue with her magic, but how she used it. And he’d been lied to by their father just as she was, so there was no way he could have known she had a claim to the throne until she told him. True, he’d taken it anyway, but wouldn’t she have done the same in his place? If the roles were reversed and Arthur did what she’d done, would she have ever willingly let him rule a kingdom? Probably not.

She passed the next few hundred years like that, held down by her chains as she floated in the dark water and re-evaluated everything that had taken place, listening to the stories of her guardian. Until one day, the other woman presented her with a scroll of paper. She felt a rush of curiosity as she took it. Immediately she recognised the hand it was written in and wondered how he could possibly know she’d find it. Carefully, she unrolled the somehow completely dry paper, and began to read.

Hello Morgana.
Since you’ll never read this, I don’t mind telling you that I’ve been putting this off for about 300 years. I’ve written to everyone except you now. I’d call it strange, if we didn’t both know better than that. In a twisted sort of way, you were the only person in Camelot who understood me. Mordred liked to pretend he was like us, but he wasn’t really. He would come to me sometimes, trying to offer solidarity, and I would have no choice but to stand there biting my tongue. I know you thought the world of him, and there was a time I did too, but I truly hated him as he grew older. He was a child, albeit a gifted child, who dared to come into my home and threaten the fragile little life I’d built, who explained the suffering of my own people to me as if I had not seen it first-hand and would not hear me when I asked to be alone. You alone, Morgana, understand what it is to live as I did, to know that the people you love could have you put to death at any moment. And that is why I’ve put this off for so long. Because you’re my kin, and I hate you.
I mean that, by the way. I really do hate you. You can’t even begin to imagine the rage that goes through me whenever I think of you and what you did. Mordred’s blade dealt the blow, but you gave the order, you delayed us on the way to Avalon. Arthur’s death is on your hands. You’re probably happy to hear that. Congratulations. You murdered the greatest King Albion will ever know.
You once asked me why I stood by him. Why I protected him, even though he would gladly see me dead. The truth is, I loved him. I still love him. I knew what he’d do if he ever found out about my magic. I just didn’t care. I don’t expect you to understand that. But when you love someone the way I loved him, you’d give anything to protect them. It doesn’t matter what happens to you. I did horrible things for Arthur’s sake, but if I could see him smile once more, I’d do them again. Because that’s what it is to love someone. When you lose that person you lose everything. You didn’t just kill Arthur that day, you killed part of me too.
I hope you’re getting what you deserve Morgana. I hope the gods make you suffer for all of it. Killing you was the best thing I ever did, and I’ll gladly do it again.
Merlin.

On closer inspection she saw marks in the paper where he’d crumpled it up, presumably before throwing it into the lake in a fit of temper. A small twinge of regret went through her. Of course she’d known about Merlin’s little tryst with her brother, but she’d never thought it was anything more than a quick affair. They were certainly protective of each other. She couldn’t really imagine being loved like that. Perhaps her sister had tried, but Morgause had always been too preoccupied with their revenge to waste much time seeing to her happiness.

Much more overwhelming than her regret, was the anger. She could practically hear the disdain in his voice when he wrote about Mordred, young, naïve little Mordred who had adored Merlin and wanted to be just like him only to be disappointed. How dare he call her his kin, when he’d refused to help her in her moment of need? If he’d been willing to teach her himself, instead of trying to push her off onto the druids, she might not have felt so alone. Not to mention how he’d betrayed her. That was Merlin, she thought bitterly. He’d try to hold you, even as you were dying by his hand. It enraged her. He tried so hard, to deny the bad things he’d done, and yet condemned her for trying to free them both. That was the difference between them. Merlin had never been able to fully justify his actions, because he was never fully sure of his own cause. How could he be? When faced with doubt about his actions, he’d tried to be more committed, until finally, he’d driven himself to ruin. It was sad really, how easily he’d thrown aside his own judgement in favour of obeying the words of prophecies and visions. All to secure her brother’s safety.

She pitied him.

Not that it made any of it okay. Hundreds of years might have softened her towards Arthur, but Merlin had done inexcusable things to her. And she was fairly confident not even an eternity of this would be enough to make her forgive him.

It was thousands of years until she was finally freed. The chains snapped and whatever magic had been preserving her dissipated. She could no longer see her guardian and the water that had never bothered her all this time was suddenly unbreathable. Above her, the moonlight shone through the water. After all these years, it seemed it was finally time. She swam upwards as quickly as she could. It wouldn’t take long for Merlin to sense her, if he hadn’t already, and she needed him vulnerable for what was to come. Morgana finally understood who had caused all of her suffering. If he wanted to fight her again, so be it.

By morning, it really would be over.

Chapter Text

Merlin had been feeling brilliant until he went downstairs.

His fight with Arthur was over. In fact, they would probably be stronger than ever now they’d gotten it all off their chests. Morgana was coming, but they had more than enough time to plan, and he was fairly confident in his ability to heal Lancelot. So when he and Arthur headed downstairs, hand in hand, he was feeling pretty confident.

Then he walked into the kitchen and saw Lancelot, awake and sitting at the table. The knight took one look at Arthur and dropped Gwen’s hand like it had burned him, obviously not noticing Arthur’s own hand was intertwined with Merlin’s. A look passed between Arthur and Gwen, and despite knowing it was petty, Merlin felt a twinge of jealousy go through him. Gwen noticed his face before Arthur did and quickly looked away from her ex-husband, turning back to Lancelot, causing Arthur to frown slightly. After a few seconds he seemed to remember his boyfriend was standing next to him, but Merlin had already let go of his hand and was walking over to his friend, good mood quickly deteriorating.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you Lance.”

Lancelot grinned and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Merlin. For everything. It’s good to see you.” He turned to Arthur and bowed slightly. “Sire. I understand if you wish me to leave your presence. I want you to know that it was never my intention to come between you and Guinevere. I wasn’t myself. If I’d had control-”

“Lancelot.” Arthur interrupted. “I know. Merlin told me what happened. Consider it water under the bridge."

Merlin was about to casually remark that it didn’t matter now anyway, when he felt something brush against the wards on the house. It was only for a moment, a flicker of magic that wasn’t his own gently testing his protections. It was all he needed to recognise it though. He’d trained himself to do so in Camelot, he’d spent hours learning how to focus on it, attuning himself to it in preparation for a day like this.

It was time.

“She’s here.” He whispered.

Every head in the room turned to look at him in horror.

“Morgana?” Arthur asked. “Are you sure?”

He nodded.

“Positive. Last time, it was just her voice. What I felt just now was her magic interacting with mine. She couldn’t do that in Avalon, she’d have to be physically present to get near my wards. She’s testing them, trying to find a weakness. It felt…targeted.”

“Maybe she wanted you to sense her.” Lancelot suggested.

“A trap?” Leon asked.

Elyan shook his head.

“A challenge.”

“If she wanted to challenge us, why be so subtle?” Percival argued. “It must be a slip up.”

Gwen frowned.

“Morgana doesn’t make mistakes.” She said. “No matter how angry she is, she’d never charge in blind knowing how we outnumber her. There’s something we’re missing.”

“Only Merlin could sense her.” Gwaine pointed out.

Arthur went pale.

“You think she wants Merlin?”

“Well, he is the one that killed her, isn’t he?”

Merlin nodded. Gwaine’s theory made the most sense. Of course Morgana would want revenge. And out of everyone there, Merlin was the biggest threat to her. If she took him out of the equation, killing Arthur and the others would be all too easy. Without him there to protect them, they’d be relatively defenceless against all her power.

He was still trying to put the pieces of her plan together when there was a sudden flash of gold on the table. Everyone flinched back slightly as a piece of paper materialised. Merlin saw his name written across it and drew closer, leaving it on the table as he read.

Hello Merlin.
I hope you didn’t mind my little intrusion. I’m impressed. Not even I could break those wards. You must be protecting something very precious to you.
I’m eager to see more of your skills when you meet me on the island in an hour. If it were anyone else I’d demand their presence, but we both know you’ll come. Bring my brother and his gallant knights with you if you like. Not that they’ll be much use. This has always been between us.
You once said you’d be glad to kill me again. Come prove it.
Morgana.

He could feel the others reading over his shoulder. When they’d all finished, everyone was looking at him expectantly, as though waiting for some master plan. But there was none. Morgana had timed everything perfectly. Here they were, no weapons except Excalibur, one of their best fighters injured, out of ideas and out of time. And of course she knew that Merlin would go, that he couldn’t allow her to live as long as she was a threat to Arthur. Because he’d told her as much in that stupid letter when he threw it into the lake all those years ago.

“I’m going.” He announced.

Arthur frowned.

“No. You’re not.”

“It’s me she wants. If I don’t go, she’ll just come here and that puts everyone in the village in harm’s way.”

“He’s got a point.” Leon said. Behind him Percival and Elyan nodded thoughtfully.

“He’ll get himself killed Leon!” Gwaine snapped.

“Look, you can come with me if you want.” Merlin told him. “But Morgana’s right, it won’t make much difference. You’ll only be giving her extra targets.”

“What would you have us do instead?” Lancelot demanded.

“Stay here. Make sure the village stays defended and protect the house. There are things in here that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. My wards should keep her out, but if something happens to me…”

“Don’t say that!” Gwen said fiercely. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. But I agree, we should stay here. There are innocent people in this village, and we might be the only thing protecting them from Morgana if she gets past Merlin.”

“Fine.” Arthur said, obviously upset at being overruled. “But I’m not letting Merlin go alone. You stay here and protect the civilians. We’ll deal with Morgana.”

Merlin’s heart froze. Before his mind could catch up with what his body was doing, he had turned on his boyfriend and the word was halfway out of his mouth.

“No.” He said flatly.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice carried a low note of warning. “I’m not asking. I’m your King and I’m telling you I’m going.”

“Well I’m the King’s boyfriend and I’m telling you, you’re not.”

Both ignored Lancelot’s confused expression at the last remark. They stood staring at each other, and Merlin couldn’t help but feel a little guilty when he thought about how great they’d been just ten minutes ago.

“Please.” Arthur whispered.

His expression was one Merlin rarely saw around anyone else. It was open, and vulnerable, and scared. He was pleading.

“Please.” He repeated. “You promised we’d do this together.”

How was he supposed to say no to that?

“Alright.” He sighed, defeated. “But you stay behind me and let me do my job.”

“What job?”

“Keeping you alive."

They said goodbye to the others fairly briefly. There was no point in wasting time repeating things that had already been said. They knew what they all meant to each other, if the past few weeks had taught them nothing else it was that. Once everyone was dressed appropriately, the knights in the clothes they’d risen in, and Gwen in a pair of jeans and a thick jacket Merlin had loaned her, they were ready.

Merlin had changed his clothes too. Before they left he stopped to look at himself. The clothes he’d chosen weren’t an exact match to what he’d worn the last time he’d seen Morgana, but close enough. Black jeans, blue shirt, brown leather jacket. He didn’t really know why it mattered, it just did. He tied his scarf around his neck tightly and pressed it to his face for a moment, trying to conjure some advice from the past. When that failed, he decided it was best not to overthink it and went back to helping Arthur fasten his armour properly.

The walk felt much longer than the minute or two it probably was. When they reached the lake, Merlin held out his hand and summoned a boat to the shore, thankful that his magic seemed to have returned to normal after the ritual he’d done the previous night. It was past midnight now. As they climbed into the boat, he couldn’t help but notice how similar it looked to the one he’d set Arthur adrift in. The thought gave him chills, which he quickly pushed down.

“It should take us about ten minutes to reach the centre.” He said. “Then maybe another five or so of walking uphill to the ruins. I’m guessing that’s where she’ll be waiting.”
“Fifteen minutes.” Arthur echoed. “We’ll be right on time then.”

“Yeah.”

“First time for everything I suppose.”

Merlin laughed softly, grateful for the attempt to distract him. He reached out and took Arthur’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“I was going to marry you Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin was aware it probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it felt important that Arthur heard it. That he knew, no matter what happened, he would have wanted to be with him. He didn’t seem surprised by the confession. If he was he was hiding it very well. Merlin was still waiting for him to say something when Arthur let go of his hand and pushed the chainmail on his arm up so he could rip off part of his sleeve.

“Arthur, what are you-?”

“Give me your hand.”

“What are we doing exactly?” Merlin asked, doing as he was told.

“We’re getting married.”

Merlin looked down at their joined hands and realised what was happening. It was freezing cold, pitch black and they were in the middle of a lake, possibly heading to their deaths. And he couldn’t stop smiling.

Arthur looked slightly self-conscious as he continued to explain himself.

“I know it won’t be official. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

Merlin grinned.

“Miles better.”

They smiled at each other as Arthur carefully began wrapping the torn piece of fabric around their intertwined hands. In the dim light of the moon, Merlin could barely see his face, but he could feel the slight tremor of anticipation in his hands. He wondered if Arthur could tell what he was feeling in this moment, the odd sense of closure mixed with adoration and excitement. If after tonight, he had to go back to waiting, at least he could wait knowing there was something that connected them, something binding their souls as their hands were now being bound.

“I don’t remember the words.” Arthur confessed.

“Gaius once told me, the binding of hands with the cloth represents the binding of two souls. Two hearts. It creates a tie that not even death can break. When members of the Old Religion performed a hand-fasting ceremony, they would announce the union in their own words, because they believed that love was the greatest form of magic known to man. And if the way I feel about you is any indication, then they were right. I don’t remember what they used to say in Camelot, but I remember watching the ceremonies and thinking that I loved you, and that I wanted nothing more than to be standing there with you. I wanted to be bound to you, because even though you’re a royal prat, I love you. You know what I mean?” Merlin could hear his heart racing as he spoke.

“I do.” Arthur said warmly. “Merlin you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I love everything about you. You’re brave, and selfless and caring. I mean, you’re a complete idiot, but when I think of all the time we wasted, I wonder if maybe we’re both stupid. And now, if we make it through the night alive, we can get some of that time back. If you want to, that is.”

“I do.” He said, feeling tears begin to form in his eyes. “I really do.”

“Then I now pronounce us married.”

“Yfel tôscêadenes mîn ferhð wið êow.” He was definitely crying now.

“Don’t be such a girl Merlin.” Arthur said, as though his own voice didn’t sound close to breaking. “Just kiss me.”

For a single moment, they were wrapped in each other’s arms, shielded from the danger that seemed to pervade the air. Just for a fleeting second, Merlin forgot where they were, where they were going, and allowed himself to believe they were okay. There were no swords hanging over them, no dark or coldness in their surroundings. Just Merlin and Arthur, floating across the lake in a tight embrace.

Then they hit land and reality came crashing back into place.

They were silent as they walked up towards the ruins. Merlin might have thought Arthur had abandoned him if they weren’t clutching each other’s hands. Once they’d nearly reached the top, he paused and turned back to look at him.

“Remember what I told you about Excalibur.” He warned. “Only when it’s struck by another blade. Until then, stay behind me and don’t get involved unless I say so.”

“Since when do you give the orders Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“Since always. You just never noticed.”

“Everything you’ve done for us Merlin…”

“Don’t. We’re not saying goodbye again. Not twice in one night.”

Arthur nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

It was starting to drizzle slightly as they reached the ruins. The rain was fell on Merlin’s face, leaving cool drops of water to stream down his cheeks like tears as he slid his hand out of Arthur’s, abandoning him by the tree line. Leaves crunched softly beneath him as he exited the darkness of the woods and entered the clearing. He dared to look back at Arthur once, before stepping into the pale wash of moonlight that dimly lit their surroundings.

She was sitting on a fallen pillar on the other side of the rubble, looking out over the lake. He couldn’t see her face from here, but he could hear the venom dripping from her voice as she spoke.

“It’s a lovely view, don’t you think? I thought it was appropriate for us to meet here, in a place sacred to our people. Well, my people. You turned your back on us long ago, didn’t you Merlin?” She turned so he could see the hatred burning across her features, her face wet from the rain. “You stood by and watched them suffer. You watched me suffer. You refused to help us.”

“No-one could have helped you Morgana.” Merlin said coldly. “I tried.”

“How?” She demanded. “By sending me to the druids so you didn’t have to deal with me? By having Gaius mix me all those little potions to keep me from learning about my gifts? You could have taught me yourself, so why didn’t you?”

“I saw the darkness in you. I knew what you were destined to do to Camelot, to Arthur-”

“I did those things because you gave me reason to and you know it. You’re no hero Merlin. You just tell yourself you are so you can sleep at night.”

He couldn’t remember saying the spell, but suddenly Morgana stumbled back as though she’d been struck. The air tingled with an almost electric scent as she glared at him, blood dripping from the cut on her cheek.

“Did I hit a nerve?” She asked in a saccharine voice. “I imagine it must have been difficult for you too, living in the castle with your position in court, thousands of sorcerers hanging on your every word-”

“Stop it.” He growled.

“Willing to serve your every whim-”

“I said stop.”

“Just waiting for the day the mighty Emrys would set them free. Tell me something, won’t you? How many did you watch burn?”

The smell of ozone worsened as Merlin clenched his fists tightly at his sides, refusing to let her get a rise out of him again. The rain was beginning to fall properly now, and it did so in icy sheets that would have made him shiver if not for the absolute rage that was quickly overtaking him. Morgana tilted her head expectantly.

“You don’t want to talk about the burnings?” She asked. “Well what about the beheadings? The hangings? What about when parents began drowning their children if they were suspected of having magic?”

“Morgana.” Merlin dared to breathe at the sound of Arthur’s voice as he emerged from the trees. “That’s enough. Your quarrel is with me, not him.”

Morgana rolled her eyes theatrically.

“Surprisingly Arthur, my world does not revolve around you. My quarrel is with Emrys. And it ends tonight.” She turned to look back at Merlin. “You hated them, didn’t you? It didn’t matter how much they worshipped you. How desperately they tried to prove their loyalty. At best you thought them beneath you, like poor Mordred. He adored you, you know. As a child he wanted nothing more than to make you proud of him. He did everything to win your favour, but it was never enough, was it? Nothing any sorcerer could do would ever win your favour, because you hated them, almost as much as you hate yourself.”

“Mordred was a killer.” He said darkly.

“Then I suppose he lived up to your example.”

The wind let out a soft howl as it broke through the trees surrounding the clearing, whipping the rain into a frantic torrent that Arthur could feel soaking through his clothes. The two sorcerers stared each other down, hands outstretched slightly. Despite the building storm, the air felt static. His hands were numb from the cold as he tightened his grip on Excalibur, though he wasn’t sure what good it would do. The most powerful witch and warlock to ever live were squaring up to fight, and even though neither had made a move yet, Arthur questioned what use a pointy bit of metal could be.

The standoff could have only lasted a moment before Merlin’s eyes flashed and he threw a hand up towards Morgana. The wind screamed as it was forced back on itself, but before it could hit its mark, Morgana raised her own hands in response. The trees on either side of her swayed and bent dangerously as she parted the blast, her eyes glowing the same gold as Merlin’s. Her opponent gave her no time to recover, as the rain in front of him froze mid-air, sending hundreds of tiny shards of ice towards her. Before it could touch her, the ice melted and she shot the water directly at Merlin, who barely had time to dodge before it struck the nearest tree with a loud crack, becoming ice again on impact. A piece of rubble behind Morgana went flying in her direction, and there was another crack as one look split it into pieces. Merlin, now back on his feet, wasn’t deterred, sending wave after wave of boulders at her, some coming close enough to crush her before she had time to destroy them. On instinct, Arthur drew further back into the trees as the battle raged on. His father would have called him a coward for it, but this was terrifying. The grass around Merlin’s feet began to grow wildly and wrap around his legs, ensnaring him. It didn’t get far before it started withering and dying, along with all the grass around him, which shrivelled and blackened until there was nothing but a huge ring of scorched earth and a choking smell of sulphur. Morgana looked as disturbed by it as Arthur felt, hesitating slightly before making her next move. Seeing her pause, Merlin turned his golden stare back on her and with a few whispered words, Morgana was frozen in place with her legs and arms pinned together, unable to move or speak.

Still clutching his sword, Arthur slowly re-entered the clearing. Merlin didn’t look at him, his eyes still glowing and fixed on his prisoner.

“You were right Morgana.” The warlock said, his hollow voice echoing around the clearing. “It will end tonight. Kill her Arthur.”

His legs were shaking slightly as he approached her, blade half raised. As he stood before her, he raised it to strike and she looked up at him, eyes shining with tears. She looked so vulnerable, so scared, like the girl she’d been in Camelot before she learned who she was, the shameful daughter of a father who’d have killed her if he’d known what she was. His sister, who he’d grown up playing with, who’d bandaged his wounds when he first began training, who’d teased him and kept all his secrets. His sister, who’d he’d abandoned and turned on for having power she never wanted, who he was now charged to kill. Charged? No. He didn’t have to listen to Merlin if he didn’t want to. And Morgana was wrong about her fight being only with Emrys. All three of them had done this. Merlin hurt Morgana, so Morgana hurt Arthur, so Arthur hurt Merlin and Morgana, who went on to hurt each other. Sister kills brother, so brother should kill sister. They’d created this mess together. Someone had to put an end to it.

He let it fall.

He dropped his arms and let the sword thud into the half dead grass.

“No.”

Morgana’s eyes filled with stunned gratitude. He could feel the anger coming off Merlin behind him.

“Arthur. Kill her.”

“No. No more bloodshed. No more vengeance. The time for that is over. Let her go.”

“You were given that blade for a reason. Use it.”

“I…” He looked down at the sword again, realisation setting in. “I can’t.”

“You can. You will.”

“No.” Arthur repeated. “I can’t. You said if the sword was used before it was struck with another blade, it would lead to my death. Merlin, this isn’t right. She hasn't even struck me with magic yet. I don’t think Morgana is the danger to Albion.”

“She is. She has to be.”

“Says who? Think about it. Has anyone ever specifically said it’s her? You said Mordred was my bane, where’s he? If we can all come back, what’s to stop anyone else? Or maybe it’s someone else, someone we’ve never even met before.”

He looked back at Merlin and saw the rising doubt in his face, though his eyes still glowed golden.

“It…no. We can’t trust her.”

“You must have some way of finding out.” Arthur pressed. “Some potion or spell. She’s my sister, Merlin, she’s the only blood relative I have left. And she’s right. We didn’t give her a chance back then. It’s time she had one.”

The gold in his eyes flickered, and Morgana gasped for air as her face was fully unfrozen.

“I swear on the goddess.” She panted. “If you let me live, if you let me come back with you, I won’t harm a soul unless Arthur says otherwise.”

“On the goddess?” Merlin repeated.

“On the goddess.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what it meant, but he assumed it was a fairly serious vow, because Morgana fell to the ground as the spell was released. He helped her to her feet before retrieving Excalibur. She and Merlin were still glaring at each other, but at least they weren’t fighting to the death anymore. The rain was still coming down over the clearing, but without the magic of the sorcerers to add fuel to it, it was beginning to wear down. Merlin held out a hand to Morgana, as though offering a dance.

“Do you mind?”

“I’d expect nothing less.” She said coldly, taking his hand. “Binding spell?”

“Just for the moment. Nothing like what you did to me. I just don’t want you able to cast anything too powerful.”

Merlin said a quick chant, his eyes turning gold once more as he dropped Morgana’s hand.

“So what now?” Arthur asked.

Morgana paled slightly.

“I suggest you take me back to the others and get me that potion or spell so I can warn you properly.”

“Warn us?”

“You’ve been seeing things.” Merlin guessed.

“Hearing, mostly.” She admitted. “I’ll explain more when we get out of here.”

“Tell us now.” Merlin demanded.

“It’s complicated. Put simply, Arthur’s right. I’m not the reason for Albion’s need. But I’ve been awake this whole time, listening.” Morgana hesitated slightly. “And I think I know who it is.”

Chapter Text

They didn’t get far before they found the knights and Gwen, standing by the shore of the lake with the first rays of dawn illuminating their weapons. The walk back to the boat and the journey across the river had been mostly silent, with Merlin and Morgana refusing to even look at each other. A few times, Arthur had dared to try and break the silence, but to no avail. So it was almost a relief when the boat hit land with a dull thud and the others all pointed their weapons directly at his sister.

“Why,” Elyan hissed. “Is she still alive?”

Arthur climbed out of the boat, and cleared his throat.

“She surrendered.” He announced. “And she vowed never to harm anyone without my consent again, on the condition we bring her back with us.”

“With all due respect Arthur-” Lancelot began.

“Have you gone mad?” Gwaine demanded.

“It doesn’t seem wise to trust her sire.” Leon agreed.

“She’s an enemy of Camelot.” Percival said, as though Arthur could have possibly forgotten.

“She’s a Pendragon.” He replied. “And she wants to help. I know it was a long time ago, but Morgana was once my friend. And the same can be said for most of us here. We owe her at least a chance. Guinevere, surely you of all people understand.”

Gwen looked to Merlin.

“What do you think?”

Merlin shrugged.

“I don’t like it. But she made a vow on the goddess. That’s old magic. She can’t break it. And just in case she tries, I’ve bound her magic to mine until we’re sure she’s telling the truth.”

“About what?”

Arthur looked towards where lights were starting to come on in people’s homes.

“Not here.” He said “We can talk inside.”

Gwaine shook his head.

“No. I’m not going anywhere with her.”

“Gwaine-”

“Do you have any idea, what she did to me? To any of us?”

“I know it’s difficult but-”

“No, Arthur.” Elyan interrupted “It’s not difficult. It’s impossible. She tortured and murdered us in cold blood. She captured and enchanted my sister, more than once. She brought Lancelot back from the dead to use as a puppet. Because of her, Percival’s whole family was killed. And you want us to trust her?”

"She isn't the real threat!" He insisted. "And she's willing to tell us who is. Leon-"

“Elyan's right. You’re my King, Arthur, and my friend, but this is insanity. I won’t have any part of it.”

Desperately searching for any kind of support, Arthur looked to Lancelot, only to see him look away. Percival already had. Gwaine shook his head.

“Come on lads. Let’s get back to the house.” He glanced at Merlin and Gwen. “You two coming?”

Arthur wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. Maybe for Gwen to give a speech about forgiveness and her friendship with Morgana, or for Merlin to make a stupid comment. Instead, Gwen spoke with a pained voice, refusing to look at him or Morgana.

“I’m going to stay. If she really knows something…I suppose we don’t have a choice.”

“Merlin?”

The sorcerer’s hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white as he shook his head.

“I want to.” He said, bitterly. “But I can’t.”

Gwaine glared at Arthur.

“You can. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“You know I can’t Gwaine.” Merlin replied. “Morgana has a role to play in what’s to come. As much as I hate it. We need her.”

The knight shook his head in disgust.

“All that talk of stopping her then. That was all just empty promises? I knew she was a liar Merlin. I didn’t know you were one too.”

Arthur saw Merlin open his mouth to respond but it was too late. Gwaine and the others had walked off.

“Thank you.” Morgana said softly. “For believing me. I’ve missed you Gwen.”

“No you haven’t.”

“I have. You might not believe me now, but I will prove to you that I mean no harm. To any of you.”

Gwen ignored her, instead addressing Arthur and Merlin.

“We can’t take her back to the house.” She pointed out. “So where to?”

Arthur looked over his shoulder and his eyes landed on the only public building that was currently available.

“The tavern’s open. Nobody in there at this hour will overhear us.”

Merlin shrugged.

“Fine. I could use a drink.”

Merlin wasn’t happy. It didn’t matter to him if she was telling the truth now. Morgana was, at her core, a liar and a murderer, and he was only allowing her to live because she might be of some use to them. Even as he thought it, he registered it wasn’t true. It was easy enough to dismiss. After a few hundred years of lying to yourself, you’re bound to start seeing through it. It might have driven other people mad, but at some point, Merlin had simply learned to stop questioning it. Whatever made reality seem a little less horrifying than it was.

Still, as he glared at Morgana from across the sticky wooden table, he couldn’t help but feel…something. Burning hatred, of course, but there was something else too. A feeling of nausea and a sudden drop in his stomach. Disgust? Despair? He didn’t know, but one emotion he could place was the irritation at his own inability to figure it out.
Arthur had been right about the pub being their best bet. The only people inside were a few drunk old men, who looked as though they’d barely be able to remember their way home, and the exhausted woman behind the bar, who’d raised an eyebrow at Merlin ordering a pint at six in the morning, then retreated into the back room without a word. Before they’d entered, Merlin had spun a quick illusion to hide Arthur and Morgana’s archaic clothes, so that they were both in jeans and t-shirts. Now, sitting in their booth, they looked like four students coming in from a night out.

“Get on with it Merlin.” Morgana said. “Or do you need me to tell you the words?”

He scowled as he leaned over to reach her, flicking through a list of spells in his mind, trying to find the right one. Finally, he thought of it, and pressed a hand to her forehead, swiping away the strands of dark hair that clung to her temples.

“Sprecan sôðfæstlic.”

As he spoke, Morgana’s eyes clouded over for a moment before returning to normal and he felt his magic take its effect.

“Done.” He said coldly. “She’s physically incapable of telling a lie. I doubt she’ll be able to get a word out.”

“I hate you.” She responded, smiling coldly.

Merlin grinned at the pathetic attempt to get under his skin and leaned over the table further.

“Likewise.”

As he spoke, his view of her was partially blocked by Arthur’s arm quickly coming between them.

“Merlin. Enough.”

The sorcerer frowned, but held up his hands and backed off. He was mature enough to admit he found the situation frustrating. Even if Arthur couldn’t kill her, Merlin certainly could have. He had no shortage of ideas. All the years he waited gave him plenty of time to get creative. Maybe once she’d served her purpose she’d turn traitor. Killing her wouldn’t be fun, or particularly pleasant, but it would be a pretty decent form of therapy. He turned to give Arthur a dirty look, but as their eyes met, he suddenly registered what he’d been thinking and looked away again, as a sick feeling came over him. He didn’t really want to hurt Morgana. He couldn’t. He was better than that. Better than her.

Wasn’t he?

Arthur looked between the two, as though checking they weren’t going to murder each other, before he spoke.

“Morgana. You said you knew what the threat to Albion was. Tell us.”

Morgana nodded as she began.

“I heard things while I was down there. Prophecies. That girl, the guardian, she told me what was to come. And she told me about you, how you hated me and how I’d struggle to regain your trust. But she also said you had questions, about why. Why you’re here. Why now. You might not like it, but my destiny is to help you. And that starts by answering those questions. So…let’s begin.”

Chapter Text

“The first thing you need to understand,” Morgana began. “Is that you weren’t brought here because Albion is in peril. As I understand it, it’s quite the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“You aren’t the response to the danger,” She said. “You summoned it. More specifically, you Arthur.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Gwen snapped. “Arthur would never bring harm on us, would he Merlin?”

Merlin wanted nothing more than to agree with her. Instead he could only shake his head slowly.

“The spell doesn’t lie Gwen.”

“I don’t think he meant to.” Morgana continued. “He didn’t understand what he was doing. But emotion has power in Avalon. If you feed too much into it, you can wake something. And if you call on that thing, it will be summoned. A few months ago, someone began reaching out, and a presence began gathering. It’s incorporeal for now, but its gathering. Soon, it’ll return to its physical form and come for revenge.”

“Who is it?” Merlin asked.

Morgana glanced at Arthur nervously. When she looked back at Merlin, he already knew her answer. There was only one person who could inspire that much fear in Morgana Pendragon. For a moment, the only sound came from the men at the other table, laughing and clinking their glasses. When Morgana finally broke the silence, she sounded as disgusted as she did terrified.

“Uther.”

Merlin tightened his hands around his glass.

“How long do we have?”

“I don’t know.”

“But we have magic.” Merlin said, temporarily forgetting his animosity towards her. “If he’s returning in a physical form, without his armies he’s nothing. How can one old bigot be a threat to a group of skilled fighters the two most powerful sorcerers in history? We’d barely even have to lift a finger.”

“It’s not so simple Merlin. Uther’s return has weakened the barriers of Avalon. People are slipping through the cracks. I saw visions of the army he’ll raise. I saw Mordred and Nimueh at his side.”

“Why would they ever work with Uther? They hated him!”

“They have reason to hate us more.” She reasoned. “You killed Nimueh yourself, then I took her position as high priestess. As for Mordred...I don’t think he ever cared about avenging magic so much as he did avenging his lover. With them at his side, he’ll be able to retake Albion for himself.”

“But why would Uther ever work with them?” Gwen asked.

“Because he’s a hypocrite.” Morgana replied.

“An insane one.” Merlin added.

Arthur shook his head, confused.

“But how? Surely if I’d summoned our father, I’d know.”

Merlin felt Morgana’s summoning spell before it happened. She carefully tilted her face away from the other people in the pub so that only their table could see her golden eyes, and when she turned back, she was holding a handful of letters. Carefully, she placed them on the table so they could all read them.

Dear Father,
I miss you. Do I miss you? I should miss you. Maybe I just feel alone. This is a strange new world, a world with no Camelot, where I’m not a King and most of my friends have been dead for centuries. I probably shouldn’t tell you that, I’ll start again.
Dear Father,
I miss you, and I’m in desperate need of your counsel. I wish I could talk to you. That’s a lie. I’ll try again.
Dear Father,
I hate you. You ruined my life, you kept me from my sister, you murdered my mother and you persecuted thousands upon thousands to ease your guilt. You were a terrible king, a terrible father and a terrible person and I’ll never forgive you. But I loved you, didn’t I? This is too hard, I’m not writing any more of these.
Dear Father,
I just need you to know that I’m not a King anymore. Camelot is gone and all that’s left of it is me and Merlin. Merlin’s a sorcerer and my boyfriend. We were seeing each other on and off for years behind your back and I think he’s my soulmate. I’m not going to be King again either. I’m learning about history so I can become a scholar. I’m happy and I don’t need your approval. What do you think of that?
This is pathetic.

There were a few more littered across the table, most of which were crumpled or torn or covered in scribbles where things had been crossed out. Merlin read each one carefully, a sense of pity rising in him each time Arthur’s writing asked for his father’s approval. Arthur himself was looking at the papers in horror.

“I threw these away.” He insisted. “I swear, I put them in the bin.”

Merlin glanced at the date Arthur had written atop the first one and felt the colour drain even further from his face.

“Wasn’t this around when we first came back here?”

“The first week I think.” Arthur agreed. “Why?”

“The weather was really bad. And on the Saturday, we met Mrs Clark. She came over to complain. The bins had blown over, remember?”

Arthur paled, suddenly feeling sick.

“You couldn’t have known.” Morgana said quietly.

For a while, the four of them sat in silence, an odd sense of nostalgia filling the spaces between them. So much felt wrong with the scene. The way Gwen cringed away where she might have once put a comforting arm around Morgana, his sister’s proud expression now replaced with a sort of tentative pleading, at least towards Arthur and Gwen. The emotions between Merlin and Morgana seemed to be currently caught in a strange state between loathing and kinship. When Uther had first been mentioned, they’d seemed to forget themselves in their mutual terror. It might have given him hope, if it hadn’t broken his heart to see the two of them so afraid of something he had a hand in. He wanted to put an arm round Merlin, but he sensed it might not be appreciated given the subject. Truthfully, Arthur himself was scared of what Uther’s return might mean. He wanted to believe his father would never hurt the people his son cared for, but he knew it was only wishful thinking. His begging had never stayed the tyrant’s had before, so why should it now? Still, he didn’t want to fight his father. Surely, fighting him would be stooping to his level? Uther was hateful, but he was reasonable, wasn’t he? And he loved Arthur and Morgana, even as part of him seemed to hate them. A plan began to take shape in his mind. Surely, if they could just talk to him, make him understand…

“I know that face.” Merlin said, interrupting his thoughts.

“What face?” He asked innocently.

“The ‘I’ve had a stupid idea and I’m going to drag Merlin into it with me’ face.”

“He’s my father, Merlin.”

The sorcerer’s face went rigid.

“You’re joking. You’re fucking joking.”

“I know he’s done some horrible things, but-”

“Horrible? Try monstrous.”

“He’s my family. I have to try”

Morgana scowled.

“I’m your family and that didn’t stop you from turning on me.” She snapped. “Uther is everything that was ever wrong with Camelot. If he lives he will destroy everything you love Arthur.”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s right.” Gwen agreed. “He murdered my father, he tried to have me killed at every turn and he’ll do the same to you if he thinks you’ve strayed from his path.”

Arthur looked to Merlin pleadingly.

“Merlin. Please listen to me. Less than a day ago you swore to stand by me. You said we were bound together. You owe it to me to at least let me try.”

Merlin looked at Morgana and Gwen, then back to Arthur.

“I love you Arthur.” He said slowly. “And I don’t want to cause you pain. But either you kill him, or I will.”

Chapter Text

“It’s bloody freezing out there!” Gwaine announced, slamming the back door behind him.

Merlin didn’t look up from his laptop as he responded.

“Boots off.”

The knight glared at him before taking a few pointed steps forward. Merlin frowned but still didn’t look up from what he was doing, refusing to give Gwaine the satisfaction of a response. For a brief second they appeared to be at a standstill. Then, suddenly, Gwaine threw a punch at the nearest wall at full force. There was a sharp cracking sound as he immediately withdrew his hand. On instinct, Merlin rushed to his side and began examining it carefully.

“I’m fine.” Gwaine insisted.

“You will be in a minute or two, yes. Now go sit down.” Merlin instructed, opening the cupboard he’d recently taken to storing some emergency medicines in. He grabbed a roll of bandages and a bottle of the pain remedy Gaius had taught him.

The knight stared as Merlin neatly placed it all on the table and quickly went to wash his hands.

“Is this going to hurt?” He asked.

“I don’t know why you always ask that.” Merlin said, avoiding the question. “You’ve broken bones before Gwaine.”

“Just making conversation I suppose.”

“So you getting mud all over my floors and breaking your hand on the wall is a conversation starter now?” As he spoke, Merlin took a seat at the table and held out his hand for Gwaine’s.

“Well, I am a bit out of practice with talking to you.” He joked.

Merlin stayed silent as he began gently trying to reposition the bone. Gwaine frowned.

“Merlin. I’m sorry alright? But I have a right to be angry. First you spare that hateful witch, and now not only is she living with us, you have us running around like madmen every night trying to catch Arthur’s dead father on her word alone. It’s madness.”

“It’s been almost two months Gwaine. If Morgana wanted us dead, we’d be dead. The others have settled down around her. We’re not lining up to be her best friend, but we’re dealing with it. Do you think I like having her here? After all I lost because of her? I hate her, but I’m getting on with it and being civil because as bad as she is, Uther is ten times worse.”

“You hate her? Is that why she’s helping you plan your wedding?”

Merlin felt his shoulders tense.

“That’s not fair. You know that wasn’t my decision.”

“You could have told Arthur no.”

“I could, but it’s not worth the fight.”

“In other words, you tried and he wasn’t having it. I don’t understand why you’re even bothering, you already said your vows. This is nothing but an excuse for a party, why does the witch have to be there?”

“Because, Gwaine, she’s Arthur’s sister and it’s important to him she be there.”

He recognised the tiredness in his own voice as he spoke. This was the same argument they’d had every day for the last two months. Everyone else had grudgingly accepted that Morgana was, unfortunately, a necessary ally if they were going to win. Nobody really liked it, but a mutual tolerance had been established for the sake of Albion. For the most part, they all just stayed out of each other’s way. The only people Morgana really bothered with were Arthur and Gwen. Merlin had no idea where Gwaine had gotten the idea the two sorcerers were friends again. They only really spoke if Arthur was present, or one of them needed help with a spell, and usually their conversations consisted of little more than backhanded compliments at best. And yet Gwaine seemed convinced the two of them were suddenly inseparable, as though Morgana hadn’t taken away everything Merlin had ever loved. As though he didn’t hate her just as much as the knight did. But Gwaine seemed to prefer locking himself in his room, which ironically, he wouldn’t have if Morgana hadn’t helped Merlin with that extension spell.

Merlin really was trying his best to mend his friendship with Gwaine. But it was difficult when the knight insisted on dragging Arthur into it, and as a result, their engagement. He was getting pretty sick of listening to all the snide comments about his relationship.

“You’d think.” Gwaine said. “That he’d be more concerned with whether or not you wanted her there. Seeing as how it’s your wedding too.”

“That’s not how it works Gwaine.”

“No.” He mused. “It never works that way with you two, does it?”

Merlin gritted his teeth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on Merlin. You know exactly what I mean. You’ve spent the last thousand years convincing yourself there’s some great cosmic rule that says you have to obey Arthur, and because you believe it, he does too. Wake up. There is nothing keeping you here. All he’s ever done is use you. You had an affair back in Camelot, then when he was done with you, he married Gwen. And for some stupid reason, even though you were completely ruined by it, you kept doing whatever he told you to. That’s what your relationship is. Right now, he needs you to help him keep his bitch of a sister alive and once she’s safe, he’ll throw you away again. I’ve been there for you, ever since we first met, and you’re still choosing him over me! He’s bad for you Merlin!”

“And what? You weren’t? I thought you liked Percy, why are you suddenly-”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you think I don’t know what a mess we were? I’m just saying-”

“What? That Arthur doesn’t love me? That I can’t make decisions for myself? That I’m some naïve child who needs protection?”

Gwaine met his gaze steadily.

“Yes.”

Merlin suddenly felt very cold.

“Unbelievable. No matter how many times I spell it out for you, it’s never going to matter is it?” He dropped the knight’s freshly bandaged hand. “You’re done. Now get out before I do something I regret.”

Gwaine stood and moved for the door, pausing briefly as he passed the sorcerer.

“Like letting my murderer live because you didn’t want to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings? Admit it Merlin. You’re as selfish as she is.”

There were several things Merlin could have done in response to Gwaine’s comment. He could have chosen to ignore him and gone about his day. He could have said something cruel back to him. Not to mention the endless ways he could have used his magic to either retreat or get back at him. In the end, he didn’t make any conscious decision to do any of these things. One minute he was sitting, feeling his hands curl into tight fists, and the next he was on his feet throwing a punch at his supposed friend.

Gwaine staggered back as Merlin’s fist made contact with his jaw, caught off guard. For a moment the two simply glared at each other. Then the knight launched himself at his opponent at full force, knocking them both to the ground.

Merlin shouted as he was slammed into the kitchen tile, and began kicking and shoving. There was a sharp snapping sound as Gwaine got a solid hit on his nose, followed by a crash as Merlin’s magic finally kicked in, sending his opponent flying onto the table. Both scrambled to their feet, panting, as the door burst open and Lancelot and Leon came running in.

“What happened?” Leon demanded. “Where’s the danger?”

“Merlin, are you alright?” Lancelot asked. “You’re bleeding!”

Merlin touched a hand to his nose and realised, it was indeed bleeding where Gwaine had hit him. He noticed the knight in question was cradling his hand. He must have re-broken it when he hit him. He muttered a quick healing spell and winced as the bone snapped back into place and the bleeding stopped.

“There. Good as new.” He said. “Where’s everyone else?”

“As far as I know, Arthur and Gwen are still out.” Leon replied. “Elyan’s taken over patrol and Percival said he was going for a run. Morgana must have heard all the noise…”

“I did.”

They all turned and saw the sorceress standing in the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Merlin still found it strange to see her in modern clothes. Her plain black jeans and blouse looked unnatural on her, made more obvious by the complex style woven into her long dark hair.

“I need to talk to Merlin.” She said. “I think…I need him to verify something for me. A spell I’m working on.”

Despite her apparent calm, Merlin could sense her anxiety. It was radiating out of her even as she tried to supress it. Something was very, very wrong. He nodded and followed her out of the room without even bothering to look back at Gwaine. He probably should have healed his hand, but part of him insisted that the knight deserved it. He could deal with it once both of them had time to calm down.

Technically, the extra rooms that had been added didn’t exist. From the outside, the house looked perfectly normal, but inside it was now completely changed. The living room and kitchen had remained the same, but on the second floor, Merlin and Arthur’s room had been joined by Elyan, Gwen and Lancelot’s rooms respectively. There was now a third floor for Gwaine and Percival’s rooms and a basement level for Morgana and Leon, who had insisted someone should keep an eye on her. A bathroom had been added to each floor, as the landings had been widened to accommodate for the number of people. Merlin and Morgana now headed downstairs, but instead of entering Morgana or Leon’s room, they stopped at a third door.

The third door was the change Merlin was most proud of. He’d made it by himself, not trusting Morgana with something so powerful. She couldn’t even use it. Unlike the rest of the house, it abandoned all pretences of modernity. It was made of dark wooden planks and iron bolts, the same as the door to Merlin’s chambers in Camelot. It hummed in recognition as Merlin gently placed a hand against the rough wood, which cast a warm golden light over his skin.

“The lab please.”

The door was swept open by a warm breeze. On the other side, lay the crystal cave. Over the years, Merlin had managed to turn it into a sort of magical research centre, a place he could experiment with his magic safely. The entrance to the cave had collapsed long ago, but that wasn’t much of a deterrent for him. He wouldn’t have even bothered with creating the portal, if not for the fact the knights needed somewhere to train. He and Morgana had cast wards and glamours over a field so that it was invisible from the outside and only accessible through the portal. In hindsight, he really should have done it sooner. Unlike the others, the portal was completely open to him, so he could use it to get anywhere. He walked through the door, Morgana following behind him, and over to the workbench he’d set up some time a hundred years ago. His eyes flashed gold as a spell book floated over from the bookshelf on the other side of the room, past the centre crystal.

“What’s happened?” He asked.

“I had a nightmare.” She explained, moving over to join him by the workbench. “I saw…it looked like a dragon.”

“So you had a bad dream. Great, is that all?”

Morgana frowned.

“No. This was a vision.”

Merlin opened his book and began flicking through it. He sighed.

“The last dragons were Kilgharrah and Aithusa. Kilgharrah disappeared after Arthur died. And after I ran away from Camelot, I tried looking for Aithusa. I never found anything. That was thousands of years ago. Even dragons don’t live that long.”

“I know what I saw Merlin. It was a golden dragon. It looked like a real version of the one on the Pendragon crest.”

The book fell from Merlin’s hands. He went over to the main crystal and pressed his hands on either side of the cool stone.

“Show me the great dragon. Show me Kilgharrah.”

The crystal flickered to life, revealing a flash of golden scales and a pair of crooked white wings.

“Merlin, those wings. Is that-?”

“Aithusa.” He confirmed. “And Kilgharrah. They’re alive. In hiding, but alive.”

“Why would they be in hiding?” Morgana asked.

“He’s been hiding from me for centuries. Probably because he knows I’d kill him if I found him.”

“Why?”

“A lot of reasons.” He said, going back to the workbench and grabbing a pen and paper. “It doesn’t matter now. If Kilgharrah is out there, then he might know something useful. And even if he doesn’t, it can’t hurt to have a dragon on our side.”

“You think he’ll help us?”

“He hates Uther just as much as you. Besides, he won’t have a choice.”

As he spoke, he started writing.

Dear Kilgharrah,
Have you really spent the last thousand years in hiding? That’s pathetic even by your standards. There’s a lot I could say about it, but luckily for you, we have bigger problems.
We think Uther is returning. He’s going to raise an army from Avalon and attempt to retake Albion. I’m offering you a chance to redeem yourself and get revenge on Uther once and for all. I want to meet. Tomorrow, at midnight. At the Avalon ruins. Bring Aithusa. If you choose not to show up, I’ll force you to.
You owe me this much.
Merlin.

He muttered a spell under his breath and the note disappeared.

“We should get back.” He announced. “Before the others notice we’re gone.”

“I assume you’re not going to tell me what you just did.” Morgana said, glaring at him.

He shrugged as the two of them walked back through the portal.

“You don’t need to know the details. Just go tell Arthur and Gwen to meet us in your room tonight.”

“Last time I checked, you were the servant.”

“And last I checked, you were only alive because you’re useful. Now go. We have work to do.”

Chapter Text

Dear Merlin,
I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any longer. I can’t stay in this house with that woman. I need some space. Percy and I have both found jobs in town, and between us we’ll be able to afford a flat. I’ve left the address, to be used in emergencies only. Percival says he’ll still come by and help with patrols. I won’t. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and this afternoon, I realised it was for the best. None of us will be able to do anything about Uther unless the in-fighting stops. It should be Morgana, but I understand why it can’t be.
See you around mate.
Gwaine.

Merlin stared at the note and wished he had time to unpack the mess of feelings that came with reading it. He understood why Gwaine had chosen to leave, but it worried him all the same. It wasn’t like him to plan ahead or spend time thinking over his options. Gwaine tended to make decisions in the moment based on a gut feeling. The fact he’d admitted to having considered this meant he’d been unhappy for a long time. Merlin had known that, but he hadn’t realised the extent of his friend’s distress until this afternoon. Both Percival and Gwaine had been absent at dinner, prompting him to head upstairs to apologise. Their rooms were stripped bare, leaving only the furniture and the crumpled scrap of paper Merlin now held in his hands behind. He wanted nothing more than to go to the address Gwaine had scrawled at the bottom of the note, but he knew it would be pointless. Besides, he didn’t have long until he had to meet Arthur and the girls. Not for the first time, he felt a bitterness towards his destiny. Just once, he thought he might appreciate the chance to deal with issues in his personal life instead of constantly being whisked away from them every five minutes. Still, there wasn’t much he could do, so he folded the letter away in his pocket and headed back to his own room to get ready.

He could tell he’d just missed Arthur from the state of the floor. Clothes and shoes had been haphazardly thrown across the room so that as he entered, Merlin could hardly see the carpet. He gave the mess a stern look with golden eyes and it all flew back into its proper place, ready for Arthur to toss onto the floor again next time he couldn’t find something. He quickly changed into an older pair of jeans and his warmest jumper, a warm white cable knitted thing he’d bought while still posing as an old man, throwing on a pair of walking boots for good measure. A quick glance at his watch told him they’d have to leave soon, so he grabbed a waterproof jacket and started towards the door. He was just about to leave when it occurred to him that he would be facing the dragons unarmed. Technically, he didn’t really need a weapon. If they tried to cause any harm, he could send them away easily enough. But if they found a way to circumvent him, or acted before he could stop them, Gwen and Arthur would be left defenceless. With that in mind he returned to the wardrobe and began searching around in the very back, where he and Arthur kept some technically not legal weapons. Finally, he pulled out a small wooden box, magically locked and marked with the image of a dragon. Unlike the Pendragon crest, this one had its wings spread wide as it soared upwards. Before he fled Camelot, Merlin had looked over some old texts on dragonlords and found his father’s crest among them. He’d also found several interesting spells, and as he unlocked the box, he studied the two knives he’d used them on. He had made them in a fit of rage, thinking he would use them to take revenge on Kilgharrah. Now he carefully removed both of them from their box and left the room, gripping one in each hand.

They were all waiting for him in Morgana’s room. It seemed the sorceress had offered to help Gwen with her hair and was currently standing behind her, braiding it, as Gwen sat at the vanity and cast uncertain glances at her in the mirror. Even now, Gwen favoured skirts, so it was strange to see she’d taken the same approach as Merlin, throwing on a pair of jeans and a thick purple hoodie, her puffer jacket resting over her knees. Morgana had gone a slightly different route, opting for black jeans and a red wool tunic, over which she wore a black corset that Merlin knew to be magically reinforced. The slightly messy ponytail she’d thrown her hair into made him doubtful of her braiding skills, but he said nothing and turned his attention to Arthur, who was currently lounging on the bed behind them. Despite the mess he’d made while getting ready, it didn’t appear he’d bothered with armour, apart from Excalibur which rested at his side. Instead, he’d opted for semi-formal attire, a white shirt and a grey overcoat that was currently abandoned on the floor. Merlin frowned as he sat beside him.

“We’re not going on a night out, you know.”

Arthur turned his head slightly to look at him.

“Obviously Merlin. But considering this dragon friend of yours wanted me dead last time I saw it-”

“Having seen the mess you made putting this outfit together I can see why.” Merlin said, neatly dodging the lazy jab directed at him.

“I thought I should try to appear as non-threating as possible.” Arthur finished, sounding rather proud of his own logic. “Since you claim this thing is on our side.”

“I never said that. He wants the prophecy fulfilled, and he hates your father. Don’t think that means he doesn’t hate us just as much.”

“Why would he hate you?” Gwen asked as Morgana finished her hair and tucked the braid over her shoulder. “I thought you were a friend to the dragons.”

“We have a complicated history. I honestly can’t tell how he feels about me. I think he fears me. He knows I could kill him. I’ve threatened to do it before.”

“Why would you do that?” Arthur asked, a tinge of worry creeping into his voice, though for what Merlin wasn’t sure.

“He made me do terrible things.” He explained. “He had me barter with Nimueh for your life, knowing my mother’s would be taken instead of mine. He convinced me to hate Mordred until he hated me back. He was the one who told me to poison Morgana.”

“You never did apologise for that.” The sorceress said.

“Just like you never apologised for stealing my magic and leaving me to die.”

“An apology would imply I’m sorry. Besides, I only tried to kill you once. You stabbed me.”

“Evidently not hard enough.”

Gwen looked horrified.

“Don’t be so dramatic Gwen.” Morgana told her. “A few attempted murders is nothing among friends, isn’t that right Merlin?”

Just as Merlin opened his mouth to say something scathing in response, Arthur stood up, looking at the small alarm clock on Morgana’s bedside.

“Enough you two. We need to leave now if we want to get there by midnight.”

As he spoke, he threw on his coat, the long garment covering his scabbard. Gwen, eager to end the conversation, also rose to her feet and pulled on her coat.

“Before we go,” Merlin began, holding out the knives to Arthur and Gwen. “Take these. Just in case. If things go wrong, I’m not sure how much damage Excalibur will do, but these should do the job. I threw every spell I could at them. I’ve never used them, but in theory…”

“In theory?” Arthur repeated, as his hand closed around the hilt. “You’re giving us weapons that work, in theory?”

Gwen took her knife and slid it into her boot carefully.

“I’ll take theory over being eaten by a dragon.” She said.

Morgana frowned.

“What about me?”

Merlin looked at her over his shoulder and shrugged.

“I guess you should’ve apologised.”

The four of them made their way to the front door, trying not to disturb the knights as they slipped out into the frozen night air. The streets were empty, the only sound came from Morgana’s boots, the rhythmic click of heels against stone that followed them as they made their way to the lake. Arthur reached for Merlin’s hand and pulled him close so they were walking shoulder to shoulder, fingers interlocked. Gwen shivered slightly, and Merlin felt a slight pull as Morgana’s magic tugged against its restraints, asking for permission to cast. He heard her whisper a spell, her eyes lighting up as Gwen’s shivering eased. She gave the sorceress a grateful smile as the spell warmed her through. Arthur gave Merlin a confused look.

“Why don’t you do that?” He asked.

“I’m saving my strength in case I need to override a dragon’s free will. And I wanted you to do this.” He added, gesturing to their current position with his free hand.

“I’m freezing you idiot!”

Merlin let go of his hand in favour of putting an arm around him.

“Better?”

“Morgana!” Arthur whined. “Can you cast that spell on me?”

She shrugged.

“If Merlin lets me. It’s more fun this way though.”

“Careful Morgana.” Merlin warned. “That was dangerously close to agreeing with me.”

“Not to worry Emrys dear. I still think you’re an insufferable treacherous fool who's too afraid of his own power to use it properly.”

“Well that works out well because I think you’re an unhinged power-hungry bi-”

He was cut off by Arthur stepping deliberately on his foot.

“That’s enough, Merlin.” He said firmly. “You too Morgana. Look, we’re here.”

Merlin summoned a boat and they began climbing in. Gwen sighed as she settled in beside Morgana, casting a wistful look towards the shore.

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming along Arthur.”

“I’m glad you did, or else I’d be stuck listening to these two.”

Both sorcerers glared at him.

“Does it ever feel strange to any of you?” She asked quietly. “Being here? Knowing that Camelot’s gone? Our home, the people we knew, the lives we lived there. There are times when I forget, that it’s not there anymore, and when I remember, I feel lost. As though I don’t belong.”

Arthur nodded.

“Sometimes, I look at something, somewhere I’ve been before, and it’s like I have double vision. I see it as it is and as it was at the same time. I open the curtains and part of me expects to see the fields, and the woods. When I first woke up, I wandered around town for a bit, trying to find the place where I died. Sometimes I still do. But I can’t.”

“I know where it is.” Said Merlin. “I can show you, if you want.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t think I do. It’s sort of comforting in a way, to have no reminders of the past. When I was hiding out in Camelot…it was horrible. I used to walk around at night when the place was empty calling out, as if someone familiar was going to walk around the corner at any moment. Seeing it like that, in ruins, it felt like my past had been destroyed. I felt…” He paused struggling to find the words.

“You felt unmoored.” Morgana chimed in, staring out across the lake as she spoke. “Like everything you’d known, all the rules you lived your life by, had been taken away. Part of your identity was just…gone. And now, you don’t know who you are. You’re not who you were and you don’t want to be. But how can you be anything else when people look at you like you’re a monster? Like the word witch is branded into your forehead? I know I deserve every piece of it, but-” She faltered as she felt their eyes on her and clasped her hands in her lap, staring down at them resolutely. “I mean…I imagine that’s how it feels.”

“I feel it too, Morgana.” Merlin confessed. “I shouldn’t. I’ve lived through all of it. But I do. I watched the life I had, the past I was clinging to, rot away and be replaced. I wrote pages and pages of letters to nobody just to stay sane. Normal people forget what day it is, I forget what year, what era. My entire religion is gone from existence. Ealdor, my village…do you know what’s there now? It’s a supermarket. They dumped a fucking supermarket on my home.”

“I remember when we visited Ealdor together.” Gwen said wistfully. “Before everything went wrong.”

Morgana grinned.

“Uther was furious when we returned. Do you remember how horrified he was when we realised I’d been in battle? I was our best fighter that day!”

“You fought well, I’ll give you that.” Arthur admitted. “But I’d hardly say that you were our best fighter.”

“I didn’t have to cover Morgana with magic.” Merlin pointed out.

“Well obviously her own magic was protecting her and she just didn’t realise.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Gwen laughed.

In spite of himself, a small smile spread across Merlin’s face.

“We were unstoppable. The four of us against the world. I thought we’d stay that way forever.”

“So did I.” Morgana said softly. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if it had.”

For a moment, Merlin allowed himself to imagine it. He saw the four of them in Camelot, Arthur as King and Gwen as a lady of court, married to Lancelot. Merlin and Morgana both at their King’s side, working together instead of against each other. The golden age of Albion, exactly as it should have been.

The boat hit land with a dull thud, and the group walked the rest of the way in silence. At one point Arthur leaned over, his eyes full of concern.

“Are you alright?” He whispered so Gwen and Morgana wouldn’t overhear. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Just thinking about what Morgana said.” He replied under his breath. “I’m fine.”

They had just reached the clearing where Merlin and Morgana had fought, when they spotted the two winged figures framed against the moon. Merlin clenched his fists tightly.

“Stay close.” He told them. “No distractions.”

The group huddled around him as the dragons drew nearer. Kilgharrah looked almost completely unchanged, and Merlin gritted his teeth at the dragon’s obvious health. Aithusa had grown to apparent maturity since he’d seen them last. They were still smaller than Kilgharrah, though not by much, with a distinct arch in their spine. Their wings were slightly raised from their back, and smaller than the older dragon’s, but they moved just as easily as the pair descended.

Merlin deliberately placed himself between the group and the dragons, glaring up at Kilgharrah.

“You said you were dying.”

“It is good to see you too, young warlock.”

“You lied to me.” He growled. “Tell me why.”

The dragon folded his wings.

“As petulant as ever I see.” He sighed. “I feared you would seek my help at Camlann. Afterwards, you made it quite clear you did not wish to speak with me. Which brings me to why you have called us here.”

Merlin noticed Morgana edging forwards and held an arm out to hold her back. Kilgharrah titled his head.

“You have brought the witch with you. Why?”

Morgana shoved past Merlin and approached the white dragon, ignoring his protests.

“Aithusa?” She called, her voice tight. “It’s Morgana.”

The smaller dragon leaned down to inspect her more closely, their eyes narrowed. Morgana slowly stretched a hand out towards them.

“Do you remember me?” She asked.

Nothing happened. Morgana stared up at the dragon longingly. Kilgharrah watched intently, as though unsure if he should intervene. Behind him, Merlin felt Gwen and Arthur both tense, ready to move if needed. Merlin followed their example, the order to leave her hanging on his lips. Aithusa studied the sorceress closely. Then they smiled and pressed their huge snout against her hand. Morgana’s eyes caught the moonlight, shimmering.

“Aithusa!” She cried, throwing her arms around the dragon as best she could.

They made a soft cooing sound in response to her. Kilgharrah scowled.

“Why have you brought her here?”

“She’s on our side.” Merlin replied.

“She is your enemy.”

Before Merlin could stop him, Arthur had stepped forward his sword drawn.

“She is my sister.” He growled. “And she has suffered enough without your slander.”

The Great Dragon laughed and leaned down so his gaze could meet the knight’s.

“You have not changed, young Pendragon. You know you cannot harm me. Perhaps Merlin could, but he will not. He is too much like his father for that. Regrettably, it seems you have at least that in common.”

“I’m sorry, for what my father did to you. But-”

“Silence! Do not speak to me of your father’s deeds as though you understand them! You, Arthur Pendragon, were raised in a palace built by magic, while I wasted away in the cells below your feet. And now you dare to come before me and my kin, and speak of our suffering? You do not, and you cannot know, what torment it was to be of the Old Religion in your kingdom.”

Gwen raised her hands slightly and made to step into the fray until Merlin glared at her over his shoulder. Unlike the Pendragons, she took his warning and stayed at his side as she spoke.

“I’m sure Arthur meant no offence. We only wished to show sympathy-”

“Hold your tongue girl. You have no place here. The witch will leave, or this discussion will end.”

Aithusa looked up from where they were still being held by Morgana and bared their teeth, moving so they were between the sorceress and the older dragon. Merlin smirked.

“I think you’ve been outvoted.” He said.

“Why have you summoned us?” Kilgharrah asked begrudgingly.

Merlin took another step forwards, so he was once again shielding Arthur and Gwen.

“I wrote to you, after Arthur died. Do you remember what you wrote back?”

“It will happen again.” The dragon answered. “But young warlock, I cannot see the future. I only knew what the prophecy warned of. That you all would be restored and face a great threat. The rest, I could only assume.”

“But that’s not true.” Merlin argued, confused. “The prophecy was wrong. Freya, the lady of the lake, she told Morgana that our return was the trigger, not the response.”

“I said Arthur would return, when Albion’s need was greatest. Not because.”

Of course. Of course, even when his world was lying dead in his arms, Kilgharrah would never give him a straight answer. His magic twisted viciously with the urge to lash out, but he pushed it down, trying desperately to stay diplomatic in his approach.

“Do you know why?” Arthur asked.

“Avalon is a powerful place.” The dragon mused. “It rests on the borders between our world and that of the Sidhe. When Merlin laid you to rest there, he gave you great power. You became a beacon, attracting the spirits of those you held dear, drawing them into Avalon with you. You heard their voices, when you woke, did you not? It took all of the lake’s power, but in time, you had brought them all to your side. All but one.” His eyes fixed on the dark-haired sorcerer standing in front of his King. “The prophecy claims, that you shall break free out of love. I expected you to return for your queen. Only now, do I understand completely. Merlin could not join you, so you joined him. Then, you used your connection to draw spirits from Avalon as you saw fit. It is as I told you, young warlock. You are, each of you, one side of a coin. You cannot be parted, not while one of you still lives.”

Merlin could hardly hear the explanation over his own heartbeat. It suddenly occurred to him, that Gwaine had only returned after Arthur had seen Merlin cry for him. It had been the same with Leon. Arthur had wanted a friend, and not hours later, Leon had appeared. Now that he thought about it, before Percival had returned, Arthur had mentioned that Gwaine seemed upset, and they’d been talking about Elyan the day before he showed up. And of course, Elyan had done nothing but talk about Gwen, who in turn had been desperate to see Lancelot again. And hadn’t Arthur himself said before that, in spite of everything, he missed his sister?

He turned and saw Arthur was looking at him in awe, golden hair turning silver against the night sky, his eyes glowing brighter than any star, any magic the sorcerer had ever known. His whole being seemed to ache softly, pulling at him to cross the oceans of centimetres between them, as if there was a line between them being pulled taut by a mutual yearning. He wanted nothing more than to let gravity have its way and fall into orbit alongside him. The rest of the world was gone, and through the abyss, he found his way to Arthur’s side, the only home that mattered, the one that refused to be destroyed by even time, and kissed him fiercely, lost in loving and in being loved. His magic cried out in triumph, and he didn’t bother stopping it as it flowed from him in golden waves that swept across the clearing, warming the air and littering the grass with primroses and forget-me-nots.

After a few moments, Gwen cleared her throat, quiet enough that the cue was only audible to them, and they broke apart. Both she and Morgana had smiles across their faces, though where Gwen’s was warm and soft, Morgana’s was small and restrained, as though she was trying to stop it. Aithusa had broken away from Morgana in order to study the red and blue flowers more closely, while Kilgharrah stared at them with narrowed eyes.

“I will hear what you have to say.” The dragon announced, forcing Merlin to fight back the urge to scoff at the implication he had any choice.

“Kilgharrah,” He began, trying to sound authoritative. “I know how you feel about Morgana, and Camelot. I could try to change your mind, to talk you into trusting us, or believing in our cause, but we both know you wouldn’t hear it. The truth is, nothing I can say to convince you really matters. Except for the fact that we have a common enemy now. Uther Pendragon. His spirit has found its way to Avalon, and as we speak he is rallying his forces to retake Albion. We don’t know when, or how he’s going to rise. Morgana had a vision of him fighting with both Mordred and Nimueh at his side.”

“Why come to us? You have defeated them before, have you not?”

“I have.” Merlin agreed. “And I believe that together, Morgana and I will be more than a match for them. But we don’t know how big his army is. Maybe the knights and Gwen will be able to defeat them, maybe not. If you fought with us though, our victory would be assured.”

“I am old, Merlin.” The dragon sighed. “I have lost my fire. If you seek counsel, I will readily provide it. But fight, as I fought against Camelot? That I cannot do. Unlike you, the last few centuries have left their mark on me. I am sorry.”

Aithusa raised their head slightly.

“Ic gewill feohtan.” They said, roughly.

Morgana stared at them in shock.

“Merlin?” Gwen asked. “What does that mean?”

“They will fight.” Merlin translated, his eyes never leaving the dragon.

“Morgana sy mín cynren.”

“Morgana is their family.”

“ðú, Merlin hǣtst mec.”

“And I named them.”

“Ic gewill bewarian ðú.”

“They will protect us.”

Kilgharrah smiled.

“Aithusa rarely speaks. You have moved them deeply. As for my contribution to this battle…” He paused, thoughtful. “You must attempt to find out what numbers Uther is bringing with him. Gather your forces and bring them here tomorrow evening at the same time. This is best discussed by a council.”

“Thank you.” Arthur said, bowing his head. “We won’t forget this.”

“Do not thank me yet, Pendragon. The war is only just begun.”

Chapter Text

The journey back was quiet, each of them caught up in their own thoughts. The dragon’s words echoed in Arthur’s ears. It shouldn’t have been possible. He wasn’t a sorcerer like Merlin or Morgana. In fact, they’d both told him countless times that most sorcerers hated him. Merlin seemed to think it was true though. And something in the back of his mind made him inclined to believe it too. He just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the information. It was darkly ironic. All those people he’d seen executed as sorcerers, and he’d not only fallen in love with the most powerful one of them all, he’d unconsciously used magic to keep them from being separated. And now he’d used that same magic to unleash his father on the world. He shook his head at his own stupidity.

Merlin squeezed his hand.

“Alright?”

“I just found out I’ve been using magic this whole time without even knowing. I’ve been better.”

“It could be worse.” Morgana pointed out. “You could be a proper sorcerer.”

“At least that’s something I could understand.” Arthur sighed. “I’d almost prefer it.”

“If you want to trade before Uther comes back, I’m happy to oblige.” Merlin said, the laughter in his voice just a shade too hollow to be genuinely teasing. “Although, he’ll probably still try to kill me. He never liked me much.”

Gwen gave Merlin and Morgana a worried look and Arthur knew exactly what she was thinking. Neither sorcerer would admit it, but Arthur knew they were afraid of what his father’s return meant. He wondered what it said about him, that two people he loved so much, were so fearful of someone he had once idolised.

“I won’t let him hurt you.” He said. “Either of you.”

“I’m not scared of Uther.” Morgana replied. “I could kill him without ever lifting a finger.”

“So could I.” Merlin added darkly. “And I will.”

“No, you won’t.” Arthur argued. “He’s my father Merlin, I won’t let you hurt him.”

“He’s my father as well.” Morgana pointed out. “And I would have killed him before any of this happened if you hadn’t stopped me. If you’d just let me be queen-”

“It wasn’t your destiny to rule Camelot.” Merlin snapped.

“How do you know? Because that vile creature told you so? It may have escaped your notice Merlin, but he’s not exactly an unbiased source.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Well you were stupid enough to trust him!”

“I didn’t know any better!” Merlin argued, raising his voice. “I was a frightened child!”

“So was I!” Morgana screamed. “So was Mordred! We all got scared and did fucked up things Merlin! We weren’t given the luxury of that excuse so why should you be? You aren’t better than us just because someone told you so! I wanted to help people, I wanted to put an end to Uther right then and there, and you stopped me! That’s the difference between you and me, Merlin. You were ruled by your fear. I used mine to do something. I tamed it, and I put it to work. Fear was to me what a dog is to a skilled hunter. We were both frightened children. Only one of us ever grew out of it.”

Merlin scoffed and shook his head.

“You know, for just a few minutes I actually thought…”

“What?” Morgana spat.

Merlin didn’t answer. All he did was shake his head again, his bitter laugh echoing across the water as he turned his face away from her. Morgana scowled and copied his movement, looking in the opposite direction. Arthur sighed and reached out to put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, which was swiftly batted away by the other man. He tried not to be hurt by the obvious rejection. Morgana had obviously struck a nerve, as her talk of Camelot and other sorcerers often did, and it was understandable that Merlin didn’t want comfort from Arthur of all people. On the other side of the little boat, Gwen seemed to be having similar luck with Morgana. The sorceress was ignoring her efforts to interact with her, a haughty look on her face as she stared resolutely out at the water.

The silence dragged on for the rest of the journey. When they finally reached the house, Merlin walked straight upstairs without a single word, the dull slam of a door above them telling Arthur he had most likely gone to bed. Morgana scowled at the ceiling, throwing herself down into an armchair with an uncharacteristic lack of grace.

“Drama queen.” She muttered.

“In his defence Morgana,” Gwen began. “You could have been nicer.”

“Don’t.” Morgana said, glaring at her.

“I’m only saying-”

“You don’t get a say Gwen. You don’t understand. None of you do. He’s not helpless, or stupid. He’s not even a good person. The sweet little servant boy was just an act, a way to keep himself hidden in plain sight. It’s what he does. He’s a manipulator, and a traitor, and worst of all a coward, and until you wake up and see that, you don’t get to defend him.”

“That seems a bit far.” Gwen protested.

“Does it? So then, it was someone else who claimed to be your friend while having an affair with the man you were courting?”

Arthur felt a rush of anger come over him as he stepped forward.

“Morgana.” He said, fighting to keep his tone civil. “I was never unfaithful-”

“And Merlin moved on very quickly didn’t he?” Morgana asked, rising to her feet. “At least, that’s what Mordred heard down at the tavern.”

“It’s none of my business what Merlin did when we weren’t together.” Arthur said through gritted teeth.

“But you care. Because that’s the way it works, isn’t it? Merlin points and you all go running off in whatever direction he wants. It doesn’t matter how badly he hurts you, or how many other people he makes suffer. Because none of you want to see him as he is.”

“You’re being cruel.” Gwen said coldly.

“I’m being honest with you Guinevere. Unlike him.” Morgana pointed up to the room where Merlin presumably was. “When you’re ready to accept the truth, you know where to find me.”

And with that, the sorceress turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Arthur groaned and sank into the nearest chair. He rubbed his temples in a half-hearted effort to rid himself of the headache that had started brewing about halfway across the lake. He looked up and saw Gwen, still standing where Morgana had left her, shifting awkwardly from side to side. He leaned forward and sighed.

“Everything’s such a mess. How are we supposed to fight my father when we can’t stop fighting each other?”

“Well, for starters, we should get our sorcerers back on the same page. I’m going to talk to Morgana. You should go check on Merlin.”

Arthur nodded.

“Thank you Guinevere. For what it’s worth…”

Gwen seemed to realise what he was going to say before he said it and shook her head.

“Don’t. Please. Don’t.” Though her voice was soft, her expression was tense as she turned and walked out of the room. Arthur stared after her for a moment, then slowly started walking upstairs to talk to Merlin.

Merlin let his eyes drift open and shut as he watched the little gathering of dust he’d created swirl and pulse in mid-air. It looked like a miniature storm, illuminated by the gold glow of the lamplight. It was the same gold that now burned through his own irises. The dust storm moved a little faster where it was suspended over the bed. The door opened, and he felt the bed shift slightly as Arthur dropped onto it beside him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you followed me up here?” Merlin asked. “To tell me that I don’t want to talk about it?”

“Merlin.”

“Arthur.”

“I could order you to talk about it.”

“Prat.”

They lapsed into silence, both watching the dust as it shifted endlessly over their heads. After a few minutes, Arthur took his hand.

“Your eyes are beautiful when you do that.”

“What?”

“That.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw him gesture towards the cloud hanging over them.

“You can say magic Arthur, it’s not as if Uther’s going to pop up and have me executed. Not yet at least.”

“Merlin.”

“Shut up?” He guessed.

“I’m trying to be nice to you over here.”

“Well at least give me a real compliment instead of trying to make me feel better.”

He felt Arthur look at him.

“Have I never told you this before?” He asked, genuine surprise in his voice.

Merlin shrugged.

“Once or twice. I wish you wouldn’t, I know it makes you uncomfortable really.” He thought back to the first time he’d shown Arthur his magic, how he’d recoiled in horror. “You don’t show it as much as you used to, but I see you staring at me. It’s okay, I don’t mind that you mind.”

There was a hand on his chin as Arthur turned his head so they were lying face to face. He could feel the spell still above him and fought the urge to look away, knowing that his eyes were still glowing.

“Merlin. You really are the stupidest person I’ve ever met.”

“Are you still being nice?” He asked.

“I’ll admit, the first time I saw you use magic was…strange. And in the moment, I said and did things that I shouldn’t have. But it’s not strange anymore. I can’t explain it, it’s like, when you use magic, it’s not just your eyes that glow. It’s all of you.” Merlin opened his mouth to speak and he shook his head. “Not literally you idiot. But whenever you cast a spell, just for a moment you seem so much lighter. As if there’s something weighing you down the rest of the time that’s just…gone. You’re ethereal, and powerful, and so…you. If I stare at you it’s only because I’m too awestruck to look away.” He paused slightly. “So if I tell you, you have nice eyes, you’d better shut up and take the compliment. Alright?”

Merlin tried to think of a comeback, but his brain seemed to have short-circuited. He was staring into Arthur’s eyes, and in amongst the perfectly clear blue, he could see his own eyes reflected back. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed at how smug Arthur was currently looking. He loved him. He was so ridiculously, impossibly in love with this man. Still unable to summon any words, he closed the distance between them, catching him in a tight embrace and kissing him. The world narrowed down until it was only Arthur, kissing him back and holding him just as close. It was all that mattered in the end, Merlin and Arthur, together. Two halves of a whole. Just them, like this, for however long they had left.

Then the dust shower hit them.

Arthur made a startled sound as Merlin burst out laughing. He broke the kiss to see Arthur, the dust painfully obvious in his blonde hair and on the shoulders of his shirt.

“Sorry. I think you must’ve broken my concentration.”

“You think?”

Merlin just grinned and brushed some of the dust off his shoulders.

“I blame you.”

Arthur scowled.

“I blame the idiot who was levitating dust.”

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

“Help me!” He demanded.

Merlin laughed again and kissed him quickly before muttering a spell that vanished the dust. He watched Arthur’s face as he did it, the soft look that flickered into his eyes as the words took effect. Somehow, their hands found their way back together, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you.” He said quietly.

“I love you too.” Arthur replied. “Which is why I need you to at least try to play nice with Morgana. Because if my father really is coming back, then he’s going to target the two of you more than anyone. You’re our only to magic users, and it’s not like you can hide among an army. The best way for me to protect both of you, is if you stick together. You don’t have to like her, but at least be civil?”

Merlin sighed. He really hated when Arthur was right. Without an army to get lost in, or other magic users to provide targets, he and Morgana weren’t in the best position. None of them were really. It reminded him of what Kilgharrah had said earlier, that they needed to gather their forces. Not that there was much to gather.

Unless…

He looked up at Arthur, an idea slowly beginning to take shape in his mind.

“We need to get to the lake.” He announced.

“What are you on about?” Arthur asked, but Merlin was already grabbing his boots from where he’d kicked them off by the door.

“No time to explain. Tell everyone to get down there as soon as possible, including Morgana. I’ll go get Gwaine and Percival.”

“Merlin! What’s going on?”

He turned back to him, a brilliant smile on his face.

“I know how we’re going to beat Uther.”

Chapter Text

Gwaine was starting to regret moving out. In his haste to get away from Morgana, he hadn’t realised how little he still knew about the way things worked in this strange new world. A few times already he’d thought about going back, knocking on the door and asking Merlin to take him in again, but he knew there was no point. Even if he did go back, nothing would have changed. Besides, it would be humiliating to admit he couldn’t manage on his own. He groaned and wandered over to the window, looking out over the blackness, flecked with the golden glow of the lamps that hung in the street.

The flat was on the second floor of their building, directly above a little shop that Merlin had once called a newsagents. If Gwaine lived alone, it would have been perfectly fine, but for two people, it was barely big enough. The only furniture they had were the appliances that had come along with it, and what they’d managed to cobble together from the big shop up the road. He was fairly certain the little glass table and plastic chairs they had set up in the living room were intended for outdoor use, and it was possible the mattress they had to blow up was for camping, but he didn’t mind too much. He’d lived in far worse places, and all of this was only temporary anyway. Eventually, they’d get it set up properly, and he’d show them that he could cope on his own. He was coping on his own right now. Percival had left not long ago to start his patrol of the lake, and in the meantime, he had been unpacking their bags. Not that there was much to unpack. He paused as he drew out the leather jacket Merlin had given him. For a moment, he stared at it, softly brushing the material with his hands. Then he scowled and chucked it over in the corner. He’d send it back with Percival. Merlin could give it to someone else.

There was a loud ringing sound, and he reached for where his sword was lying abandoned on the floor beside him, before remembering there was a phone in the flat, connected to a device at the front door that acted sort of like a doorbell. He crossed the room and pulled the phone free, hoping he was using it correctly as he pressed it to his ear and spoke.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Gwaine?”

Merlin. His voice was oddly metallic and distorted by the device. Gwaine frowned.

“I told you not to come here unless there was an emergency.”

“There is an emergency.” Merlin said insistently. “Can you let me up?”

A wave of panic suddenly came over him.

“What’s happening? Is everyone okay?”

“For now.” Merlin answered. “But if we go up against Uther without any backup, I can’t promise anything.”

Gwaine shook his head.

“So there’s not an emergency?”

“Not yet. But if we don’t do something soon-”

“Merlin, I asked for some space. Please just go.”

“You’re not listening. I have a plan, a way for us to get the upper hand-”

“So ask for Morgana’s help.”

“Gwaine-”

“Good luck, Merlin.” He said, hanging up the phone.

He sighed and turned to go back to sorting through his things, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had barely made it two steps across the room when there was a loud slam and the window was thrown open of its own accord, letting the cold night air flood the room. He could hear Merlin shouting from the street, and he slowly moved towards the noise, careful to stay out of view of the window.

“Come on Gwaine! I can’t do this without you! If we’re going to pull this off, it needs to be all of us, working together!” There was a slight hesitation. “You know what he’ll do to us if he wins. What he’ll do to me. I’m scared, Gwaine. And you’re my friend, and I miss you, and I really don’t want to spend what could be my last days fighting with you. Please. Just buzz me up.”

Merlin’s throat was sore from calling up to his friend as he sat down on the steps leading up to Gwaine’s flat. It was starting to drizzle, spots of rain appearing randomly where the streetlights were brightest. The exhaustion of not having slept for almost a day was starting to set in, and a part of him insisted that this could wait, and he should go and curl up somewhere warm next to Arthur, but he didn’t dare give in to it. Once this was done, then he could rest. At least for a little while.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting now. There was no sign of the door opening, or even of Gwaine at the window. Still, he didn’t move. If the knight seriously thought he could wait out Merlin of all people, he had another thing coming.

It must have been another five minutes before the door swung open, revealing Gwaine, in jeans and the leather jacket Merlin had given him, a sword resting at his side. He offered a hand and Merlin took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

“What changed your mind?” He asked.

“You’re right Merlin. We’re friends. And I know if the tables were turned, you’d do the same for me.”

“Sorry I hit you.”

“Don’t be.” Gwaine grinned. “I’ve had it coming for at least a couple thousand years.”

Down by the lake, Morgana was watching the others as they waited, her arms crossed in an attempt to seem ambivalent. She was still furious with Merlin, but Gwen had made her promise to at least try and be civil with him, for her and Arthur’s sake. Besides, part of her was curious about this plan he’d come up with. Knowing Merlin it would be something ruthless. Knowing their odds, it would probably be their only hope.

After about half an hour, she spotted two figures approaching in the darkness, as Merlin and Gwaine came into view. The two men glared at her as they reached the shore, and she looked away. She felt bad about Gwaine, but she knew he’d never forgive her. Some of the things she’d done were too horrible to ever be forgotten. It was one of the many things she just had to accept.

“So,” Arthur said, looking to Merlin expectantly. “What’s the plan?”

Merlin stared out over the water, and Morgana fought the urge to roll her eyes. He really was ridiculously dramatic.

“The dragons told us to gather our forces before tonight.”

“Well, we’re all here.” Leon said, glancing around.

“This doesn’t do us much good though, does it?” Elyan pointed out. “Not if Uther’s bringing an army.”

“But Arthur said we have a dragon on our side now.” Percival noted. “Surely that tips the scales in our favour.”

Morgana shook her head.

“Aithusa’s not as strong as the Great Dragon.” She told him. “If enough of Uther’s men attacked them at once…”

She looked over at Merlin, and for a moment she felt a flicker of shared grief between them at the thought. Then he looked away and it was gone.

“She’s right.” He said, as though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “Aithusa buys us time, maybe a couple minutes of distraction, but we’ll still be outnumbered. We need an army of our own.”

“But that’s impossible, isn’t it?” Lancelot asked. “If we’re all that’s left of Camelot, then aren’t we the only ones who can fight?”

“We can get more people.” Merlin announced, his eyes fixing on Arthur.

Understanding hit Morgana at once. It seemed to strike Arthur at the same time, as he took a step backwards, his eyes wide.

“Merlin…I can’t.” He insisted. “I don’t even know how I brought you back, nevermind an army…”

“You can.” Merlin said, determined. “Maybe not on your own, but with all of us helping you, you can.”

“What are you suggesting, Merlin?” Gwen asked.

He grinned wildly. Morgana had forgotten what Merlin was like when he came up with ideas. His eyes scanned over each of them, frantic with energy as he spoke.

“We beat Uther at his own game. We know Arthur can draw people from Avalon. So we use magic to temporarily link our minds together, and we summon everyone we can think of. Knights, healers, sorcerers, everyone who would be loyal to Arthur over Uther.”

“Merlin,” Arthur protested. “Whatever’s happening to me, I don’t think it’s strong enough to-”

“You don’t have to be. I am.”

Morgana turned on him in disbelief.

“You’re not actually suggesting what I think you are, are you?”

“It’s the best chance we have.”

“Even if you could power a spell of that size while holding multiple minds together at once, which I doubt even you can do,” She argued. “Releasing that much magic into the lake at once would risk waking Uther and his forces.”

“Freya will hold him back.”

“She can’t, Merlin! Not forever. The barrier’s already weakening, and your brilliant plan is to tear it open!”

“We’re out of options, Morgana. At this point, it’s risk dying sooner, or definitely die later.” He paused, scowling. “And as much as I hate to admit it, I need another sorcerer to keep everyone linked together while I keep the spell going.”

“And you trust me to do it?” She asked.

“I trust that you hate Uther more than me.” He said. “That’s all.”

“Heart-warming stuff.” Gwaine chimed in, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But if she’s going to be messing around in my head, I’d prefer it if we could get it over with.”

She was genuinely surprised at the resignation in the knight’s voice. For a moment she considered asking about it, but based on the look in his eyes, she decided against it. Instead she turned to the rest of the group, who were watching the two sorcerers intently.

“You’ll need to be willing.” She told them.

Gwen nodded slightly, stepping forward. A tiny smile slipped across Morgana’s features, and she quickly fought to hide it. There was nothing but trust in Gwen’s eyes, and she smiled back softly. Arthur didn’t smile as he followed Gwen’s lead, but she knew her brother well enough to see the same unspoken agreement in his face as he regarded her calmly. It was an understood reconciliation. Forgiveness, however quietly given, from the two people that mattered the most.

Lancelot looked from Gwen, to Morgana, to Merlin, uncertainly.

“It’s safe.” Merlin assured him. “Her magic is bound to mine. If she tries anything, I’ll be able to stop her.”

Very slowly, the knight stepped forward. The movement seemed to encourage the others as one by one they followed, until they had all fallen into a sort of line along the shore of the lake. Pretending not to notice the nervousness that came with being trusted like this, Morgana joined them, slipping between Arthur and Gwen.

“You’re sure this will work Merlin?” Arthur asked.

“Mostly.” Merlin said, moving to stand between Arthur and Gwaine. “The worst that can happen is we die.”

“Well that’s reassuring.”

“Just try not to think about that part.” He suggested. After a moment, he leaned over to look at Morgana. “You get everyone linked up. I’ll help Arthur open the borders.”

She braced herself. This was it. This was how she proved herself. Such a simple spell for such an important moment. She looked out over the water and took a deep breath.

“Everyone join hands.” She instructed. “Close your eyes and think of Camelot. Think of the people you knew. Who would you most want at your side right now? Focus on them, on wanting them here. Don’t break concentration, no matter what happens.” She felt the restraints of Merlin’s magic lift as power flowed through her. Slowly, she brought her own magic to the surface, gently letting it wash over all of them. Gwen squeezed her hand slightly in encouragement. She opened her eyes. “Ic binde êow.”

She felt the link snap into existence as all at once all of them came crashing into her mind. She struggled against it for control, fighting to keep her own voice clear in her mind. It felt like trying to stay in command of a horse that was desperately trying to throw her. For a moment, she thought they might succeed, as the voices grew louder and louder, and her own mind began to seem more and more distant. She desperately clung to the little scraps of her that remained coherent, trying to remember where she was. When she was first learning to ride, she’d been thrown across the courtyard by a particularly angry mare. Uther had wanted to get her a new one, but she had refused. Instead, she insisted on taming the mare that had thrown her. She had learned to control it. She could control this. Morgana seized hold of the reigns and pulled sharply, directing all of them towards Arthur, even as they all unconsciously tried to overwhelm her. The pressure on her own mind was relieved as everything fell into its proper place. She let out a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to maintaining her spell.

Then Arthur started screaming.

He couldn’t see a thing. There was nothing except a bright golden light that seared his eyes, whether he opened or closed them, and a flurry of thoughts that weren’t his crowding his head. It hurt. Worse than that, it burned. The pain threatened to set him alight from the inside. He screamed, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. He couldn’t hear anything. There was only the pain in his head and the light shining in his eyes.

One of the thoughts in his head took his hand. It hurt too badly for him to know who it was, but it was there, warm and familiar. It wanted to help him, but it didn’t know how. It felt like it was trying to scan him as best it could, but it didn’t seem to be able to. It wasn’t like the other thoughts. It didn’t say anything, it was just there. It was doing something else, and Arthur knew he should know what it was, but he was in too much pain to remember. It hurt.

The thought was sorry.

Then it was in pain too.

Suddenly, he was aware of his feet touching the ground again, of a hand in his. Merlin. He held onto him tight amongst the rising tide of the other thoughts. He gritted his teeth and bore the pain as he forced them out into Avalon. He could feel something building in the back of his mind. Something reaching out to him. He reached back, pulling at the invisible force that seemed to hold it in place. It came loose, the recoil sending Arthur stumbling back as his vision cleared and the pain receded.

He gasped for air, his heart pounding. He was distantly aware of Merlin and Morgana on either side of him, each in a similar state. Merlin was doubled over, a hand on his chest in an attempt to steady his laboured breathing. Morgana was rubbing her temples as though trying to rid herself of a headache, and when she looked up, Arthur saw that her face was deathly pale.

“Alright?” He asked.

Both sorcerers glared at him in response.

“That…” Merlin panted. “Is the last…time…I use magic to save you…Arthur Pendragon. I mean it.”

“I heard screaming.” Lancelot said, looking between the three of them.

“Arthur’s.” Merlin explained. “Then mine. Used the bond to take on some of the side-effects.”

“So now what?” Elyan asked.

“We wait.”

“And if it didn’t work?”

Merlin shrugged.

“We’ll probably die.”

Chapter Text

It was cold. Black, icy nothingness stretched out in all directions, a seemingly endless abyss. It was swimming with a sense of wrongness, the dull hum of something unnatural ringing in his ears. There was a faint pulling sensation in the back of his mind, urging him upwards. He tried to follow it, more than once, but each time he only ever got far enough to see a faint shimmer above him, light coming through glass, or maybe water, before his strength failed and he fell back into the darkness. Each day, he tried, but just as he thought that he was getting closer, he was forced to give in to exhaustion again. Still, he knew he couldn’t stop trying.

Not when he knew what was up there. Not when his kingdom was in danger.

It had seemed so meaningless. He’d invited the boy into his house so thoughtlessly. He had trusted him, not completely, but enough. Enough to let him near his son. And from there, all the vile creature had needed to do was gain Arthur’s confidence, likely through some dark magic. Now they were up there, the two of them, with Merlin pulling the strings.
He’d been tricked, and now both his throne and his son were gone. A world without Camelot. That’s what had been written on one of the scraps of paper that had appeared beside him when he first found himself in this place, only to vanish as soon as he’d read them. He wasn’t sure how long ago that had been. Long enough for him to think of about a hundred ways to put an end to the sorcerer once and for all. Long enough for him to realise just how far he was willing to go to do it.

The heat came from nowhere, a sudden burning sensation sweeping over him as his surroundings turned blazing white. He was blinded, and he could see them, Arthur standing above him, Morgana and Merlin at his side. They seemed to be staring straight at him, their eyes a horrible, metallic gold.

What had they done to him?

Arthur couldn’t be using magic. It was impossible. And yet there he stood, his eyes glowing brilliantly golden. A sickness ran through him. Both of his children, taken from him. He cursed whatever had shown him this. He’d rather see them dead.

The hum of energy that he had learned to drown out began to build, growing louder and louder until he could hear a thousand voices talking all at once. Still he could not stop the vision of Arthur. Merlin had done this. Merlin, and Morgana. He wanted them dead. He wanted his kingdom back. He wanted to destroy anyone who tried to stop him. More than anything, he wanted revenge.

In the back of his mind something heard him. He felt it reach for him, its own desire for vengeance sweeping over him. It was offering to help, he realised. An alliance. The hum began to die down and the light faded away, but the ally remained. Uther smiled, and carefully began explaining their next move.

Chapter Text

“How do we know if it worked?” Gwen asked, taking a seat on the ground next to Merlin as he let his legs give in to exhaustion.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “I suppose we won’t. Not unless people start returning.”

“But how long will that take?”

“I don’t know.”

“Clearly you’ve thought this through very clearly.” Morgana said, lowering herself onto a nearby log.

“Sorry Morgana, why don’t you explain, since you know everything about it?” He snapped.

“I know I never should have agreed to this. It was a complete waste of time!”

“We don’t know that yet.” Arthur pointed out. “And even if nothing comes of it, at least we tried. All we can do now is make sure we’re ready.”

Leon nodded in agreement, his face grim.

“What would you have us do?”

To anyone else, it might have seemed strange to ask Arthur for orders, given the state he was in. His breathing was harsh and rapid, his movements unsteady. Merlin felt a stab of guilt that he locked away in the back of his mind to deal with later. Instead, he focused on Arthur as he drew himself up to his full height, forcefully ignoring the dark circles under his eyes, and the memory of the last time he’d looked this pale. Arthur was fine. They would all be fine. He looked over at Merlin, and seemed to guess what he was thinking, his shoulders tensing slightly before he turned to answer Leon’s question.

“For now, we assume it did work. Merlin, that training ground you connected to the house, can you send supplies there?”

He shook his head. Holding the barrier open had been too much. His magic had screamed in protest throughout the whole ordeal, and now it was exhausted. Whatever was left was being used to keep him conscious. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d used the bond to take some of the pain away from Arthur. Most, was more accurate, as much as he’d been physically capable of handling. He was just lucky he’d managed to do it before the worst of it kicked in. Without magic, it would have killed him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel even more guilt at the look on Arthur’s face.

“Sorry.”

“What about Morgana?”

“I can.” She said. “But I’ll need to be there to do it.”

“Alright. In that case, Leon, take Morgana, Elyan, Percival and Guinevere to the training grounds. Morgana, gather as many supplies as you can, tents, armour, anything we might need for as many people as possible. Percival and Leon, start making camp. Elyan and Gwen, see to it that anyone who needs a weapon gets one. Gwaine, Lancelot, Merlin and I will bring people through.”

Morgana stretched as she abandoned her seat and began to follow Leon, who wasted no time in beginning the walk back towards the house. Percival looked between Morgana and Gwaine for a moment, then fell into place behind them. Gwen smiled at Merlin, and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

“This will work.” She told him, taking the hand Elyan offered her and rising to her feet. “It’s a good plan.”

As he watched the siblings leave, Arthur dropped into the now empty spot beside him. He really did look awful. Up close, Merlin could see where his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and hear the slight gasp that came with each breath he took. It was his fault. He should have known the toll it would take. He should have been prepared to intervene. Arthur had suffered unnecessarily because he wasn’t. Then again, it wasn’t the first time Arthur had suffered because Merlin did something stupid.

“Merlin.” Arthur said, nudging him out of his thoughts. “What are you staring at?”

“You.” He said honestly.

“Because I’m so handsome?”

“Because I’ve seen healthier looking corpses.”

“I could say the same about you. The last time you looked this bad you were dying.”

“Likewise, but maybe that’s just the scenery.”

He would have stopped himself if he wasn’t so tired. Normally, he could have caught the words long before they ever left his mouth. He wouldn’t have said it if he wasn’t so tired. Saying it made everything real. He was suddenly, painfully aware of just what the lake was. All at once, the irony of the situation came over him and he looked out over the water. It was happening again. Everything depended on this, of all things. Merlin laughed bitterly. Arthur was watching him, worry and confusion in his eyes as he reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Merlin. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s just funny.”

“What is?”

“That after everything we went through to avoid it, the fate of Albion ends up being based on this. Me, sitting here. Waiting. Again.”

Understanding dawned on Arthur’s face.

“Oh.”

Merlin sighed. “Thousands of years, and here we are. I’m starting to think we’ll never be rid of this place.”

“We will be. Eventually.”

“Could be worse,” Gwaine said, sitting beside him. “At least you’ve got company.”

“Even if it does include Gwaine.” Lancelot added.

This time, when Merlin laughed, it was genuine. Arthur took his hand, smiling softly.

“You can still laugh.” Lancelot grinned. “I’ve barely seen you smile since I came back.”

“I was scared you were turning into Arthur.” Gwaine teased, barely avoiding the shove aimed at him by his king.

They all burst out laughing, and once more, Merlin found himself staring at Arthur. The pallor seemed to have faded from his face, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. His hair drifted in the warm breeze, the golden light turning his skin the same colour.

Golden light and a warm breeze. At half three in the morning. In January.

Merlin whipped his head round to face the lake. The water was no longer clear. Instead it was the colour of liquid gold, glowing and churning as energy rolled off its surface. Heads were beginning to break the surface, people starting to swim for the shore. In spite of his exhaustion, he jumped to his feet, grinning wildly. Gwaine and Lancelot were already running to help people out of the water. Arthur was standing at his side, seemingly unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of what he’d done. What they had done together. His eyes were shining as he looked back at Merlin.

“This is it, isn’t it?” He asked. “Our destiny. We’re finally going to fulfil it.”

“Yeah.” Merlin replied, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. “Yeah, we are.”

“Merlin! Arthur!” Lancelot called. “Over here!”

He turned his head, following the sound of his friend’s voice, until finally, he spotted him amongst the crowd that Gwaine was starting to lead away. Two figures stood beside him, their silhouettes clear against the light from the lake. Merlin dropped Arthur’s hand and sprinted towards them, ignoring how his body protested each step he took. At the same time, one of the figures spotted him and surged forwards. He was crying before he even reached her, the two of them colliding in a fierce hug. She was wearing the same dress she always wore, the old faded one that smelled like dust and well-worked earth. She made a soft shushing sound, her arms wrapping around him protectively as he clung to her, terrified that if he let go for even a moment, she would be gone again.

“Mother.”

“I’m here Merlin.” Hunith promised, the sound of her voice sending him into another round of tears. “I’m here.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He sobbed.

Behind him, someone cleared their throat.

“Would you mind if I interrupted?”

Gaius was smiling at him proudly, his eyes sparkling with tears as they met Merlin’s, and the younger man pulled him into the hug. They might have stayed like that for a minute, or a maybe a hundred, but eventually, the three of them pulled apart and turned to where Arthur was standing, looking unsure of himself.

“Gaius.” He nodded to the physician, who rolled his eyes and held out his arms.

“Come here, Arthur.”

It sounded more like a command than an offer, but either way Arthur didn’t seem to mind. Merlin grinned at the smile that spread over Arthur’s face as the two hugged, pretending not to notice the knowing look his mother gave him.

“It’s so good to see you again.” Arthur said breathlessly. “Both of you.”

“How did you do it?” Gaius asked Merlin.

“I didn’t. It was Arthur.” The thought made him smile even more as he stared at the Once and Future King. He grabbed the front of Arthur’s shirt and pulled him forwards, until their lips met. “You brought my family back. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Is there something you two want to tell us?” His mother teased.

“You’d better not say I told you so.” He warned.

She pulled him into another hug.

“I told you so.” She whispered.

“I missed you.” He whispered back.

Behind them there was a loud splashing noise as someone else exited the lake, followed by heavy footsteps headed towards them.

“Hunith? Merlin? Is that you?”

Both of them turned, eyes wide, as the man approached them, seeming almost afraid to get too close.

“Balinor?”

Merlin smiled as his mother rushed forwards, pulling his father into a close embrace. He couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other, but there were tears in their eyes as they spoke. Balinor looked over at him and smiled warmly.

“Hello son.”

“Father.”

“Father?” Arthur repeated. Merlin glanced over and saw that he was staring between the two of them in confusion. “But we’ve met before. You’re the sorcerer, the dragonlord. And neither of you ever...” He turned on Merlin. “You never thought to tell me he was your father?”

Merlin shrugged, awkwardly. “I told you I was a dragonlord, I just assumed you’d put two and two together. You knew it was passed down by blood.”

“I thought there must have been another. That he wasn’t really the last one.”

“It didn’t seem strange to you when Kilgharrah mentioned knowing my father earlier?”

“He’s a dragon! Everything he says sounds strange!”

“You two haven’t changed, I see.” Balinor said, pulling his son into a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Merlin asked.

“For giving me a chance to be a father to you. I have a feeling it’s something I’ll be very proud of.” He pulled away, suddenly serious. “But right now, we have bigger issues than a family reunion, don’t we? The pull that led me here, it warned of danger.”

Arthur nodded.

“We think so.”

“What’s going on?” The dragonlord demanded.

Merlin paused as Lancelot escorted another small group of people past them, before addressing his father.

“We’re going to war with Uther Pendragon. And we need all the help we can get.”

Chapter Text

Below the surface, the lake boiled with tension.

What have you done?

Only what you asked. If you wish to escape this place with an army quickly, there is no other way.

I don’t believe you.

Then don’t.

Why do we need him?

Because I’m the only one that can help you.

And in exchange?

Merlin and his beloved King are brought to ruin.

No. Do what you will with the servant. Kill Morgana if you must. But not Arthur. The boy has corrupted him. Let me bring him back to reason.

So you can betray us as you did me all those years ago? I think not.

I will swear on whatever you like. If you leave him be, I will let you go in peace. Take the boy, take Morgana. Take whatever’s left of them and their army. But not my son.

He speaks the truth.

I know.

I accept your terms.

This is not the revenge you promised me.

But it is revenge. A suitable one, don’t you think?

Very well.

How long do you need?

A few hours. All their meddling has weakened the barrier. We should be able to force it open by dawn.

And Arthur?

Will live. On one condition.

Anything.

When Merlin dies, I want him to watch.

Chapter Text

Arthur felt deeply uncomfortable as the boat made its way across the lake for the third time in two days. Merlin’s father was staring at him from the opposite side of the boat in a way that made him want to launch himself into the cold water below. He wished Merlin could have been at his side to meet with the dragons, but he’d collapsed shortly after reuniting with his parents and had only woken briefly to nominate Balinor to go in his place. Morgana had claimed similar exhaustion and suggested she and Gwen stay behind to organise the camp and watch for any signs of danger while Gaius went in her stead. The supposed war council hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. The two older men had spent much of the time talking over, or worse, talking for him, and much of the talk had little to do with the actual battle, and more to do with the days of the old religion. When they had talked about the matter at hand, only Gaius had been willing to listen to Arthur, rather than insisting the sorcerers would be able to manage the army even without the rest of their forces. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted. As soon as the boat hit the shore, he half climbed, half stumbled out, and started staggering back to the house, followed closely by the physician and sorcerer.

It looked like a hurricane had come through the living room. Muddy footprints covered the floor, which was slick with water from the lake. Someone had taken a swing at the television, which was playing the news through a cracked screen. The kitchen door was open, revealing a thoroughly raided fridge and empty cupboards. In the centre of the mess, stood Lancelot, attempting to mop up some of the water from the floor.

“You know Merlin can do that.” Arthur pointed out.

“I just thought I could make it easier for him.”

Balinor muttered a few words, his eyes flashing gold. In a moment, the floor was completely dry, and looked like it was brand new.

“There.” The sorcerer said. “Now. Where is everyone?”

“Still preparing.” Lancelot turned to Arthur. “Camp’s set up, everyone’s armed, and we managed to get a headcount.”

“How many are we?” Arthur asked.

“Not enough. Ninety fighters, four sorcerers, and three of them are healers, plus Hunith. Merlin woke up a little while ago. He and Morgana went to the crystal cave to see if they could find out how many Uther’s army is.”

“And have they?”

“We have.” Merlin’s voice rang out through the room. He stood in the doorway, Morgana at his side. The usual relief Arthur felt upon seeing him was replaced with a sense of dread. Merlin only looked like that when something was very, very wrong. “Morgana had a vision.”

“They attack at dawn.” She announced, her voice tense. “At least three hundred. Probably more.”

Arthur felt something in him twist at the thought of those odds. Not even a hundred of them, against an army. Their chances of survival were dwindling rapidly. He took a deep breath, slowly formulating a plan. The civilians were the biggest concern right now. They couldn’t fight here and risk bystanders getting hurt. They needed to take them somewhere else, somewhere they would still have a tactical advantage. Then there was the problem of being outnumbered. He’d learned a long time ago that numbers didn’t matter so much if you were smart about it. And he’d been in enough of his father’s war councils to know that Uther would come right at them without much planning. His father was angry, and anger made him predictable. Arthur could use that. An idea took root in his mind. Not a perfect plan, but a chance.

“We need to lead them to Camelot.” He announced. “It protects the village, gives us a tactical advantage, and leaves my father open to making mistakes.”

“What about the people there?” Morgana asked. “Didn’t you say it was open to the public now?”

“Not tomorrow.” Merlin remembered. “It closes on Sundays for maintenance. A fire broke out in one of the towers and ever since they’ve had to do a weekly inspection.”

“Merlin tried to burn the whole castle down.” Arthur said, ignoring the glare that was shot at him from across the room. “But in this case, it works in our favour. There won’t be many bystanders, and the ones that do come won’t get in.” He turned to Balinor and Gaius. “Do either of you think you’d be able to ward the castle?”

“I could.” Balinor said. “But only from within. And I wouldn’t be able to fight, I’d have to hold it in place.”

“Then that’s what you’ll do.” Arthur told him. “Gaius, do you think you could get them there straight from the lake?”

“I believe so. It’s a simple enough spell. Once it’s in motion, I wouldn’t even need to maintain it.”

“How long until dawn?” He asked Lancelot.

“Eight hours? Maybe less.”

“We leave in three. Gather Gwen and the rest of the knights and have them start moving out. Gaius, do what needs to be done then find Hunith and get ready to treat a lot of injuries. Balinor, spend as long as you can helping Gaius, then start building those wards. Make sure there are no civilians inside. Merlin and Morgana, with me. We don’t have long. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Arthur hadn’t moved from the window since the others had left. Merlin watched him, from the kitchen table, glancing back at Morgana. He was relieved to see she looked as worried as he felt. The sky was getting lighter by the second. Arthur stared out at it, gripping the edge of the sink as though he thought he might fall without it. Merlin knew they were all thinking the same thing. Everyone else had already made their way to the battlefield. Wards were in place and Gaius had set up a portal by the lake to funnel their enemies through. It was time, and yet the three of them hadn’t left yet. They just sat there, Arthur and Morgana in full armour, Merlin with a sword at his side, just in case. Arthur carried Excalibur, despite Merlin begging him to leave it behind. All it would take was for Arthur to forget Freya’s prophecy and reach for it at the wrong moment, before whatever blade was meant to strike it could, and he’d be dead. He might die tonight anyway. Any of them could.

“We should pick targets.” Morgana announced. “Uther, Nimueh, Mordred. Three of them, three of us.”

“It always comes down to the three of us.” Merlin sighed.

“I suppose I should deal with father.” Arthur said. “I can actually fight him, if I have to.”

Sudden panic rushed through Merlin, every part of him tensing at the implication of what Arthur was saying.

“You’re not still seriously considering trying to reason with him are you?” He asked. “Arthur, you know he won’t listen. He’ll kill you.”

“He’s right.” Morgana agreed. “Once Uther has evidence that you’re on the side of magic, nothing will stay his hand. Believe me. I lived in fear of it my whole life.”

“I have to try.” Arthur insisted. “He’s my father. No matter what he’s done, I care for him.”

“More than your sister and fiancé?” She snapped. “You know what he’ll do to us if he has the chance.”

“You honestly think I would let him harm either of you? I’m not stupid Morgana. I know what he is. I know what I was. But I will not kill our father in cold blood. If we do that, how are we better than him? I understand, what he did. How both of you suffered at his hands for so long. But I won’t be like him. Besides, you know the prophecy Merlin got at the lake. I can’t use my sword to strike a blow until another blade hits it. That saved your life. Why can’t it save Uther’s as well?”

She shook her head.

“Fine. I’ll take Nimueh. I won’t harm Mordred. And I suppose you’ll have something planned for him anyway Emrys?”

Merlin didn’t answer, but a twisted sort of pleasure swept over him at the thought of getting to deal with Mordred. If he’d thought about killing Morgana, then he’d fantasized about ending the druid boy. Slowly. Painfully. In ways so monstrous that even he felt sick thinking about them. He nodded slightly towards Morgana, pretending not to notice the fear that flashed through her eyes for a moment, and ignoring how for a moment he thought about leaving Mordred unharmed, for her sake. He hated Morgana. Hated her with all his being. And he hated Mordred even more. Didn’t he? Before he could think about it anymore, Arthur closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Then it’s settled.” He said quietly. “Which I think means, we can’t put this off any more. It’s time.”

Merlin felt his throat tighten. This was it. If they lost today, if they were separated again, there were no guarantees. This could be it. Permanently. One last chance. One last opportunity to save everyone he loved. And if he didn’t make it count, then none of it would matter. All the things he did, everything he went through, the people he lost and the people he killed, all for nothing.

Morgana cleared her throat softly, rising as she did so.

“I’ll go ahead. Give you two some time. I…I don’t regret what I did. But that future we talked about on the lake, the night we met with the dragons…I think I might have liked that. And I’m sorry for my part in taking it away.”

Arthur frowned.

“Morgana-”

“I’d better go. I still need to fetch Aithusa. I’ll see you out there. Good luck.”

Before either of them could say anything else, she was gone. Arthur gripped the sink tighter, leaning on it for support. All the stoicism he’d been carrying before had left him, and he was the boy Merlin had met in the marketplace again. That arrogant, lonely, impossibly beautiful boy, with eyes that glittered like cold stone sapphires. He’d hated him, and pitied him, and wanted him all at once. Common sense had screamed at him to leave it alone, that this boy was dangerous and he should stay away. But something deep inside him had pushed him to stand his ground and speak his mind, urging him on when, if only for a second, Arthur’s eyes glittered with amusement. Even if he hadn’t realised it yet, Merlin had loved him in that moment and every moment since.

With a slight start, he realised Arthur was staring back at him, visibly trying to piece together what was going on in his head.  

“You know, you could just ask what I’m thinking about.”

Arthur grinned.

“Alright then Merlin. What are you thinking about?”

“Well, running away obviously.” He laughed, then paused and smiled to himself. “I was thinking about the first time I ever saw you.”

“You called me a prat.” Arthur remembered.

“Well you are a prat. You just happen to be my prat.”

“I hated you. When my father made you my servant I was sure we’d end up killing each other. Or well, I’d kill you.”

“And instead you fell for my rugged good looks and unstoppable charm.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I led a very sheltered life before you showed up.”

They both laughed at that, and Merlin made his way to Arthur’s side, leaning against him. The first rays of sunlight were starting to work their way over the horizon, washing everything in a soft gold.

“We have to go, don’t we?” Merlin asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Arthur kissed him once, quickly, then took his hand. “Are you ready?”

“No. But I suppose I have to be.”

When dawn finally broke over the shore, the little house stood empty. The lake stirred restlessly for a moment, before becoming still again. Then the water exploded.

Chapter Text

Arthur looked at the small force they’d gathered, all standing ready over the battlements of the castle. Camelot had crumbled and fallen in places, but for the most part, it stood firm, preserved, as though it had been kept for this very purpose. The last time he stood here, he had been a tourist in his own home, a man out of time, searching for the scraps of who he had been. But now, Camelot didn’t feel like home at all. Home was with Merlin, in their little country house by the lake. Camelot was Camelot, and it was important, but the ghosts who’d once trailed through the halls were gone now. The final battle for Albion was here, and it wasn’t for Albion. It was for his people. His family and friends. Arthur Pendragon stood in his former court not as a King, but as a protector.

“What we do today,” He announced. “Isn’t for honour, or glory. Today, we fight for ourselves. For freedom. The world will never know we fought this battle. And if we win, they never have to. Today, we let go of who we were in this place. King, solider, servant, sorcerer, it doesn’t matter anymore. After today, we are whoever we say we are.  And no-one will ever have to bend to the will of men like my father again. You know the plan. We move on my signal.” He raised his sword over his head. “For Albion!”

As the reply came screaming back at him with the force of a much larger crowd, Arthur glanced over to Merlin. The sorcerer’s eyes were shining with pride as he joined the cheer. For a moment, Arthur felt nothing but confidence as everyone rushed to their stations. He went over to where Merlin was waiting with Morgana and Aithusa. His sister was already perched on the dragon’s back, a sword at her side and a crossbow in her arms. Once Arthur reached them, Merlin casually swung himself up behind her as if he was climbing onto a horse, then held out his hand. Arthur let Merlin help him up in silence, but didn’t let go of his hand as Merlin said something he didn’t understand and the dragon took flight, carrying them forward and over the battlefield.

It was just as they’d expected. Uther’s forces had kept close to the point where the portal had dropped them, huddled together, awaiting orders. They were spotted immediately, the screams and calls of the army at the sight of the dragon echoing across the field. Still, they did not move.

“He wants to talk.” Arthur realised.

“It could be a trap.” Morgana warned.

“I have to try.”

“Arthur-” Merlin began.

“Merlin. I have this.” Aithusa landed, and Arthur squeezed his hand tightly, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Both of you, stay here. Be ready to move.”

As he climbed down, the crowd parted. Arthur turned slowly. He’d expected it, but regardless, his heart froze at the sight of Uther walking towards him. As Morgana had promised, there were two other figures at his side. Mordred and Nimueh said nothing to him, but the slight sound of anger he heard from Merlin made him suspect there was an entirely different conversation going on between the sorcerers. Uther looked him up and down with an exasperated expression, as though Arthur were nothing more than a child awaiting punishment. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand his ground. He wasn’t a child anymore. And this was his world. Uther had no right to belittle him here.

“Father.”

“Arthur, my son.” Uther replied, holding out his arms. “It’s alright. I am here now.”

“So you are. And I see you’ve made allies.”

“A necessary evil, I’m afraid. In order to save my kingdom, in order to save you, sacrifices had to be made.”

“Father. We can help you. Just stand down. Nobody has to die today.”

“No, Arthur. I cannot. This world has come to ruin. I will see it restored. And you with it.”

“Me?” Arthur asked, pretending not to notice how his own voice trembled slightly.

“None of this is your fault, Arthur. They have corrupted you. Morgana is too far gone. But you can be saved. Come back to my side, where you belong. We will rebuild Camelot, just as it was before I was tricked into inviting the sickness in.”

“Sickness?” Arthur felt a wave of nausea sweep over him as he saw who Uther was looking at. Merlin did not flinch under his gaze. He met Uther’s glare calmly and evenly as he slowly slid off of Aithusa’s back and approached them. Arthur broke free of the tension between the two men just in time to grab Merlin’s arm. “Merlin don’t-”

With unusual strength, the sorcerer yanked his arm free and continued to stare at Uther hatefully. For a moment Arthur thought his father looked almost impressed. Then he sneered.

“Do you suppose you frighten me, serving boy?”

Merlin grinned, not his usual soft smile, but a vicious, self-satisfied smirk.

“I am Merlin Emrys. The last dragonlord. Firstborn son of Hunith and Balinor. Magic incarnate. I am the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. I’ve lived for centuries, seen empires rise and fall to dust. I know I frighten you, Uther Pendragon. You may wish me dead, but you won’t dare raise a hand to me yourself. Which is why I can finally do this.”

Without breaking Uther’s gaze, Merlin spat at his feet.

Arthur stood frozen, not fully believing what he was seeing. Merlin bowed, then completely at ease, turned his back and walked back towards Morgana. But he was right. Uther said nothing, only watched him retreat with seething rage.

“Father.” Arthur pleaded. “This is the only warning you’ll get.”

“Enough of this! Arthur, I am your King and father and you will stand down at once! The sorcerers will burn and you will be purged of whatever vile enchantments have turned you against me! This is my kingdom! All of it will be restored! Camelot must be saved!”

Uther’s eyes were wide and angry as he made a desperate lunge for Arthur, which he barely managed to avoid. His breathing was heavy, his voice erratic. And for the first time, he saw what Merlin and Morgana saw when they looked on his father. Not a father, not even a king. The man before him was power-hungry, cruel, and more than anything else, unhinged.

“I’m sorry, Father.” He said, stumbling back towards Aithusa until he could feel Merlin’s hand slide into his. “I can’t let you do that.”

Merlin’s grip on him tightened as he drew his sword. He felt the sorcerer squeeze his hand once. He braced himself.

“Now!” He screamed.

Merlin pulled Morgana down from Aithusa’s back as the dragon launched itself upwards and let out a plume of fire. In an instant the two sorcerers were moving, Morgana screaming protective spells while Merlin drew a staff seemingly from nowhere and began hurling blasts at the enemy to hold them back. Arthur drew the sword that hung at his side, ignoring the urge to reach for Excalibur, strapped across his back, as knights began to swarm around him. Already he could hear the thundering approach of their own forces. Uther was bellowing orders, but he was retreating, letting his army fall between him and their three opponents. Mordred and Nimueh were moving as well now, spells of their own forming on their lips.  They needed more time. Through the horde surrounding him, Arthur caught a glimpse of Morgana, saw her realise what the other two sorcerers were doing. Suddenly, she and Merlin both dropped to their knees, digging their hands into the earth beneath them. Their eyes burned amber as the ground began to shake and Mordred and Nimueh fell backwards, along with a considerable number of their allies. Arthur fought to stay upright, barely managing to land blows against his current opponent. Still, at least they were coming more slowly now. He quietly thanked whatever magic gave his sister and fiancé the ability to communicate and pushed on.  Behind him, he heard Leon’s voice call out, signifying the arrival of the relief party.

“For Albion!”

Bodies slammed into each other. Cries exploded across the field. They fell back, slowly but surely, even as the warrior in Arthur insisted they should be gaining ground. But that wasn’t the plan.  For now, he focused on keeping them back, thinning the crowd.  He could no longer see Merlin among the chaos. Overhead, Aithusa roared, but they had bows and they were making full use of them. It was only so long before they found their mark, and Morgana had made Merlin swear he would send the dragon away before it came to that. Their advantages were running out.

Merlin had lost Arthur in the battle. He scanned his surroundings, frantically searching for a sign, a glimpse anything. Another wave came at him and he threw them back with a muttered spell and a wave of his hand. They were almost there now, so close to Arthur’s plan coming into play. If Arthur was alive to see it, he didn’t know. He could only hope now. Then through the madness, he saw him. Arthur, outnumbered, but winning. And slipping through the battle headed towards him... Merlin began to sprint at full speed, knocking people aside, not knowing whose side they were on. He shoved his way through until finally, he had him.

“Mordred!” He screamed above the sounds of fighting. “Why don’t you seek out a fair fight this time?”

The druid froze at the sound of his voice, turning slowly.

“Hello Merlin. Come to kill me?”

Merlin felt a fierce anger course through him.

“You have no idea.” He growled.

Morgana held herself up against Nimueh’s glare, as a ring of fire sparked to life around them.

“So,” The priestess said in a saccharine voice. “You’re the pretender.”

“I am the last high priestess.” Morgana replied.

“Your sister had no right to give you my title girl. A high priestess is trained from birth. The most skilled of sorceresses. You may be powerful, but you are nothing compared to me.”

“Would you like to test that theory?” She asked.

“I meant what I said, before.” Mordred said, as he slowly walked towards Merlin. “I will get my revenge.”

“If you touch him-”

“A little late for that, don’t you think?”

“I should have let you die.” Merlin said coldly. “None of this would have happened if I had.”

“You make it sound like this happened because of me. But we both know, don’t we Merlin? Deep down, we’ve always known. Arthur died, because of you.”

“Shut up.”

“Your choices. Your mistakes, your failures. That’s what killed him.”

“Shut up!” Merlin bellowed, so loud that he thought he might lose his voice over one word. “He was my destiny! And you, after everything I did for you, everything he did for you, you took him away! Why? Because you hate me? Because you wanted me to suffer?”

As he spoke the ground shook and the wind howled. Mordred was knocked into the dirt, the grass coiling over him, holding him in place. Still, there was only defiance in his eyes as they met Merlin’s.

“Not you, Merlin. Arthur. I want him to feel what I felt. I want him to watch the life leave your eyes. I want him standing by your pyre while you burn.”

“I’ll kill you.” He hissed.

“Then do it.”

Merlin stared at the boy opposite him. His anger raged through his body, strong enough that he felt sure he could tear all of Camelot in half with one word if he chose to. The power, the ability to destroy Mordred as he’d wanted to for so long was right there. All he needed to do was say a few words. And yet…

He fell to his knees as the battle raged around him. He tuned out from the sounds around him, instead listening to something else. The wavelength that connected him to Morgana, his father, Gaius and even Nimueh and Mordred hummed with energy. Morgana and Nimueh were fighting, so evenly matched that he had no idea who was winning. Gaius was with Gwen and his mother, already tending to wounds. His father was struggling against the weight of the wards, but they were holding. And Mordred…Mordred was boiling rage, hatred and betrayal. But underneath that, there was something else. There was the druid boy Merlin had been so desperate to save. The boy that had saved his life and kept his secret. The boy that loved his friends and idolised Arthur. A child, afraid of what would happen if he was found, clinging to hope. Clinging to Merlin. Waiting to be set free. He was the man who had hated and distrusted Mordred, and the man who had promised to save him. Mordred was the boy he had cared for and the man he had grown to despise.

He rose to his feet, approaching the young sorcerer. One look told him that Mordred knew his decision. The grass around him grew and pulled until the druid boy sank below the earth, leaving only his sword behind. Merlin picked it up, examined it for a moment, before throwing his own sword down, putting Mordred’s in its place. Around him the battle was raging as he raced back into the thick of it, content that Arthur was safe, for now at least.

Morgana dodged another of Nimueh’s attacks, feeling the heat of the flames as it barely missed her. No sooner had it passed her then she threw it right back at her opponent, relief sweeping through her as the attack found its mark. It was a small victory, not a guarantee, but they’d been fighting for so long she’d thought they were reaching a stalemate. Encouraged by the success, she pushed on, hurling flames at her predecessor while she scrambled for a plan. For a second, she was dimly aware of Merlin in the back of her mind. Then, she felt it. Her awareness of the other sorcerers near her flared as the presence she knew to be Mordred flickered like the last sparks of a dying fire, and vanished.

An enraged scream echoed through the battle.

Arthur froze at the sound of his sister’s cry, instinctively turning his back on his opponent to search for her. Too late, he remembered, spinning around to see the sword coming straight towards his face. Before it could strike him the man was thrown backwards, his head hitting a nearby rock with a sickening crack. Merlin seemed to materialise from thin air, grabbing Arthur’s arm and dragging him in the direction of Morgana’s voice.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur demanded.

“I’m assuming she knows what I did to Mordred.” Merlin answered bluntly

“Merlin, you didn’t-”

“I did what I had to. Now move.”

“Come now.” Nimueh smiled. “You must have known what he would do. Despite what they say, Emrys is hardly merciful.”

Morgana didn’t dare answer. The emptiness in her head where Mordred should have been seemed to be growing, swallowing her from the inside out. He was gone. The little boy she had loved so much, the young man who had stayed when everyone else deserted her. Dead.

Nimueh laughed.

With her vision blurred by tears and her mind occupied by grief, Morgana wasn’t completely sure what she did. She only knew that laugh was the last sound the other woman ever made.

The body dropped in front of her. She was unsurprised at the sight of blood on her hands. In the back of her mind, she felt something compelling her to stand. Merlin’s attempt at comforting her. As if he hadn’t killed Mordred for the things Morgana had made him do. As if she hadn’t just killed yet another person in cold blood.

“You were right Merlin.” She said aloud, not really knowing if he was listening. “It wasn’t my destiny.” A hand landed on her shoulder and she tensed. “I see you’ve finally joined us.”

“I didn’t think you would defeat her.” Uther mused. “I’m almost proud.”

“Like father like daughter.” She felt the cold steel of the sword press into her spine. “Get it over with.”

“I am sorry, Morgana.”

“No you aren’t.”

She felt him pull the blade back, preparing to strike. She waited.

Then she heard Arthur scream her name.

Uther went flying, and she turned in time to see Merlin and her brother fighting their way over to her with the force of a small army. With one hand, Merlin wielded the sword he carried, the other extended towards Uther, holding him back.

“I can’t hold it!” Merlin yelled. “Go!”

She could see he was struggling. The gold of his eyes flickered dangerously as he tried to fight off assailants while maintaining his spell. Arthur was doing his best to keep them back, but there were only two of them against maybe twenty of Uther’s men. It was only a matter of time.

She scrambled to her feet, as Arthur and Merlin broke free of their skirmish and raced towards her. She was about to make a dash for them when Merlin’s magic failed. Uther seized her by her hair, forcing her to let out a small yelp of pain as he yanked her back. The next thing she knew she was on the ground, a sword headed for her chest at a speed no spell would be able to stop. She shut her eyes.

“Don’t!” Arthur cried.

The vile sound of metal sliding through flesh rang in her ears as blood sprayed over her.

There was no pain.

A warm weight fell into her lap.

She opened her eyes.

Uther stepped back in surprise, his sword soaked in blood.

But not Morgana’s.

Her hands were shaking as she pressed them to the gaping hole in his chest, as if it stood any hope of stopping the bleeding. His blue eyes were flooded with pain as he rolled his head back to look up at her. He smiled at her.

“Merlin. What have you done?”