Archive of Our Own ^beta

Arthur wasn’t used to waiting. Not on his own and agitated, at least. So he paced, four steps, until he was in front of the wall. Then he turned around and paced four steps to the other wall. Shaking his head at the futile effort, he then went to sit on the bed. Which was a generous term, really. Soon his own bouncing leg annoyed him. So he started fidgeting, which helped for a while. Until he glanced down and quickly dropped the useless talisman after which he lunged backwards so fast his head hit the wall. He welcomed the brief pain, as everything was better than remembering how Merlin had snapped his talisman in two immediately after receiving it. He had been so stumped, and angry and confused that Merlin had already ridden off before he recovered. He had quickly climbed to the top of the ramparts where he could only helplessly watch as Merlin was riding in the opposite direction of Ealdor. On his own and now without a means to communicate with him. After almost a week he was no closer to figuring out why Merlin had been so angry about being excluded from the magic tournament. There was just no way that he could compete with only a couple weeks of training. Even if he had somehow won, he would still be completely ill suited to become the Court Sorcerer. Saying he had been born with magic and been using it for years, it was totally absurd. And why? They were now so in sync with each other in the roles they had, even if they professed the contrary. He had been totally blindsided that Merlin wanted to leave him.

Arthur’s face became grim as he rallied his determination. He couldn’t let the fate of the Kingdom depend on one man. He had promised the Disir that he would return magic. He sighed as he realized how easily his thoughts had circled back to Merlin. Merlin’s distraught face as he said there was no place for magic in Camelot, had reminded him of Balinor’s death. How Balinor had agreed to help the King who destroyed his kind for the simple reason that there were still good people in Camelot. Surely that meant that there were still good sorcerers too. He knew, deep down, that he had encountered more instances of benevolent magic. Though he couldn’t recall anything specific. In a way magic had already returned to Camelot unofficially, after he made peace with the Druids. Merlin’s worry and anxiety had been almost palpable as they stood before the Disir a third time. Yet he had been nearly euphoric when he finally exited their caves, after the Disir had confided something just to him. When he had pressed Merlin about it, he had just answers with ‘good news. the best’ after which he looked into the far distance. With a smile that he suddenly realized he hadn’t seen on Merlin in years. Had the Disir promised him he would become Court Sorcerer? It would explain why Merlin had ridden in that direction, though he couldn’t phantom why the Disir would have made such an empty promise. It also didn’t add up with how Merlin had raced into the arms of a totally surprised, yet fully healed, Mordred. Who when pressed had also responded along the lines of good news. Merlin had been relieved of a great burden, though what it was remained a total mystery. His happiness had been infectious, right until his exclusion of the tournament.

Arthur sighed, again. He had had such high hopes for this tournament. The only way he had been able to convince the Council to repeal the magic ban was to promise them that Camelot would soon get enough magical power to deter anyone from invading. That’s what the tournament was all about. Tiered duels until the strongest emerged while garnering goodwill and excitement from the people through the spectacle. It had been decided on the one session where Gaius had been indisposed. He could understand somewhat that Gaius felt he should have had a say in it, given his own history with magic, but he really had gone too far in trying to shoot down the idea. The rewards were staggering. The position of Court Sorcerer for the winner, which also meant becoming a Lord and his second advisor. All who got to the top half were welcome to serve as the freshly reformed Paladins. Honestly it was staggering how magical Camelot had once been. He both hoped and dreaded it would become so again. All the participants also received a sizable sum and could ask of a boon but the crown had no obligation to grant any. There were just over a hundred candidates, with hardly enough knights available to mentor them.

It was that mentoring that had first shown that something was amiss. Nearly all the candidates had started to frantically learn to fight with magic as they had learned of the tournament. It was staggering how people leaped almost desperate for a rise of station, now that they saw an opportunity. The duels had turned out to be mostly comical as the participants fielded all kinds of things, probably for the first time ever under pressure. Even the Council had gotten swept away by the resulting merriment. Which he would have considered a substantial win, if the threat of Morgana wasn’t also looming. It had been a couple of days before the knights had noticed that the participants were receiving tutoring. Always in hushed voices or away from prying eyes. They had identified about a dozen people, who clearly showed more mastery than any of the candidates and who also cautioned them out of trying dangerous spells. Intrigued why the tutors weren’t also participating, he approached them. Or at least tried to, but they always avoided him. Getting nowhere, he had told the knights to extract information about them from the participants, but they too didn't know anything about the tutors. Most hadn’t even said their names or shown their faces. Handing out official invitations through the participants had also proven to be ineffective. In a desperate moment he had ordered the knights to arrest the tutors, gently, though. But that had only resulted in them fleeing the city.

He finally conceded that he really needed to listen to a sorcerer if he wanted to figure this out. Unfortunately Mordred was currently reconnecting with his former Druid clan, Gaius still wasn’t really speaking to him and Merlin wasn’t here either. The ache of missing him had dulled, a bit. But it had never persisted for so long before. Had never needed to since there were less than a handful of instances where they had been separated for even a day. Surely this meant as much to Merlin as it did to him, even if they had never spoken about it seriously. He jumped off the bed and started pacing again. After a couple of passes he bent down and picked up the talisman again. He sighed deeply. He should have given Merlin something as unbreakable as their bond deserved. If only he hadn’t chickened out of giving Merlin his mother’s sigil. Even as he was readying himself to meet his end, he hadn’t been able to let Merlin go. It often frightened him, how much he needed Merlin. A king was supposed to be strong and detached, so he could place the kingdom first. It was always such a struggle when he was torn between Merlin and Camelot. A struggle which he often, too often really, lost.

At last he heard someone coming up the stairs and he steeled himself. This was his only change to sort this mess out. For the tutors had a tutor themselves, who had remained deep in the shadows, to safeguard the audience from the candidates excesses. He was unarmed and dressed in a simple outfit. He felt naked, even as he understood that it made little difference to a sorcerer of this strength. He sat himself on the floor against the far wall, looking at the door.The sorcerer opened the door, with the usual shadowy shroud around him. It seemed like a thick black cloak at first glance, but it never moved with the wind. Golden light gathered in the sorcerer's right hand as he noticed his visitor. It faded before something happened.

“Get out”

Ok, not a good start. “Just answer a few questions and then I’ll take my leave.”

The sorcerer simply turned around and then froze just outside of the door, evidently also now hearing the large band of merry knights who had just entered the Rising Sun’s common room. The sorcerer glared at him over his shoulder. Or at least that’s what he assumed, as he couldn’t actually see the sorcerer’s face within the hood.

“Why did no genuinely skilled sorcerer join the tournament?”

The shroud moved a bit around the shoulders. “Usually people don’t like being insulted.”

He opened his mouth but shut it before he could make a sound. What did that even mean? He had created a position of such honor and prestige. Multiple even but-

Something between a snort and a scoff interrupted him and he realized that he had been muttering. “It’s not the positions, but how you fill them.” The sorcerer shook himself as if trying to get rid of something. “If you had consulted any genuine magic user, they would have told you these duels were a horrible idea.” The sorcerer turned around then and continued after he saw his undoubtedly frowning face. “What good could it ever do to throw the spells your people have learned to fear into their faces? Most magic users abhor using their magic for violence to begin with.“

He scoffed. “That’s preposterous. It’s all they do!”

“Then what about all your puppies? Most of them have had magic for years. Some even since childhood. But it never occurred to them to fight with it.”

He pursed his lips some. That matched with what the knights had been telling him, but it still didn’t make any kind of sense. “You’re wrong.” He simply said, trying to fool himself that it was that simple.

“Of course your highness.” The sorcerer said while bowing. “I am ignorant of magic, I was only born with it.”

He stiffened all over, trying not to fall into another lamentation about Merlin. Born with it? That was truly possible? He got a sudden terrible feeling in his gut that he now knew why his father had executed babies. And that this was one of the reasons behind Merlin’s behavior.

After a deep breath he said “We need fighters to stand against Morgana.”

The sorcerer rolled his eyes. Or at least, he assumed those two glowing orbs were eyes. “I guess finding out where she’s gathering her forces isn’t useful. Nor is enchanting shields so they could block magic. Or concealing your forces so you can ambush her army. Nor is providing nourishment so the army can move without a supply train.”

Slowly, reluctantly, he started to realize he had made, in this case, a mistake. He had been so focused on the battle that he forgot about the war. Intelligence gathering, troop movement, logistics, preparation, … Those determined the outcome of battles more than the strength of any fighting force. He had been involved in all those aspects since childhood, in some kind of capacity. It had never occurred to him that magic could have a place in all of that. His breath escaped him in a long exhale as he realized that would have been far easier than asking people to die for the Kingdom that had had only just stopped persecuting them. They could have made a craft and trade fair or a talent show. But no, he had asked strangers to fight for him. Even as he knew how hard it was to find genuine recruits for the army.

He raised his head to look at the sorcerer, who had closed the door but still stood right beside it. “So, how would you propose we find a Court Sorcerer?”

“Stop assuming loyalty is something you buy.” Was the swift, clipped response.

“What would you know about it?”

The sorcerer only shrugged. “You're planning to give a total stranger the keys to your Kingdom. While you have no way of supervising nor containing them if need be.”

He struggled not to raise his hands to his face, or his hair. Because this was startlingly correct, again. He had made the position to be enticing, but the people he had hoped to lure with that could easily rule something on their own, couldn’t they? Morgana or a foreign power could have sent in infiltrators too.

After another sigh he said “It’s not like we could have found sorcerers fighting for Camelot’s sake alone.”

“And yet” the response was flat but powerful. “They already have. Are you truly still so blind to magic that you can not see where it helped you in the past?”

He sucked in a breath, eyes going wide. Again he couldn’t remember specifics yet he knew this was true. He quickly brushed it all aside again. “Why didn’t these people come forward then when magic got legalized?” He demanded, indignation heavy on his voice.

“Why didn’t you approach the sorcerers you knew?”

He managed to stop himself from blurting out he didn’t know sorcerers. Because he did, even outside of the castle and beyond his Kingdom. The city of Helva, the Druids, Dragoon, Isildur, the unicorn fellow. Dammit, none of those approved violence. He had gotten so fixated on this one issue, in his own country, that he had allowed himself to be blinded. Let alone Gaius and Mordred. And Merlin, always Merlin. He never could get a win there.

“What about you?” He blurted out. He didn’t even understand what had possessed him to ask this, but he had asked and there was no point in retracting it. Offering the keys to the Kingdom to a stranger. Right. Such a good plan!

The shining orbs flattened. “What about me?”

He did the only thing he could to salvage this inappropriate question. The only thing that somehow made sense, even when it shouldn’t. “You’ve been using your magic on behalf of the Kingdom the entire week. Preventing the tournament from blowing up in my face. Protecting my people.”

“Someone had to.” Said the sorcerer with a simple shrug. So that squashed pretty much any hopes of offering the position to this enigmatic fellow. Then the sorcerer said something so unexpected he almost didn’t catch its meaning “In Merlin’s absence.”

There was a maelstrom of thoughts, emotions and memories this simple statement evoked, which all came down to an equally simple statement. “He lied to me.” The quiet volume did nothing to detract from the fury he felt.

“Did you expect him to climb his own pyre?”

That visual burned into his mind so intensely, he was sure to have nightmares about it for years. “I would never have hurt him” he whispered faintly.

“Really?” Gods, the sarcasm was just dripping from that one word. “Not even in an uncontrolled moment?” He wanted to rebuke this but his mouth clamped shut despite himself. He had always struggled with his temper and regretted its emergence often. Regarding Merlin most of all. What would he have done? What should he have done? “Do you even have the slightest inkling of how deeply you’ve hurt Merlin when you threatened him with exile?” His breathing stuttered again. He had assumed Merlin had moved past that. “Or when you gave up on Gaius? When he got left behind in Ishmere? When you made him perform for queen Annis?”

He jumped on that last statement, desperate for a life line. “That was just some harmless fun! He was happy to do it!”

The sorcerer sneered. “You were planning to let him make a fool of himself. In the court of a Queen who has nearly killed him for being a lowly servant. You even know some of the abuses he has suffered due to his low station.”

He didn’t get to contemplate if he had put Merlin at risk or not, because that ‘know some’ grasped all of his attention. Again that maelstrom almost pulled him under. What did he miss? How had he missed all of this? “He should have trusted me.” He muttered.

“Sure, blame the victim.” Was the sorcerer's quick and scornful answer.

“He should have known better after all I've done for him!”

“What did you do for him?” The sorcerer cut him off before he could give a long list. “Despite fulfilling your own need of keeping him beside you to ease your life?”

There were dozens of instances that fought for his attention yet all of them now felt wrong. He had largely overlooked Merlin’s many faults and mistakes regarding his service, but they hadn’t been talking about his job. He had been very, extremely, indulgent with Merlin as a royal. Yet again that wasn’t what he had really wanted. He also couldn’t help remembering, with Ealdor fresh on his mind, that Merlin had never actually become a citizen of Camelot. When had he done something for Merlin? Just simply from person to person, between friends. Try as he might, he found nothing. Even when he had gone to Ealdor, it was only to make sure that Merlin would come back to him. He suddenly remembered Merlin’s friend, who had died saving him. Could this be him? Had his death been a ruse to prevent a raid by Camelot’s knights? He put the thought aside, like many others who weren’t for the benefit of the Kingdom.

He shook his head slightly. “By that argument Merlin also did everything he did to stay beside me.”

“Merlin watched his best friend, his father and the only girl he ever loved die in front of him because he chose you over them.” The voice was calm yet noticeably strained and the shroud now had streaks of lighting. “He could have easily saved them by revealing his magic but he was paralyzed by the fear of losing you. That’s how much he sacrificed for you. And when the day finally comes that he can tell you about what he did, when he could finally lay down his burdens and start to heal, you DISMISSED HIM!”

The last two words rang his ears for several more seconds. Another maelstrom overtook him. Best friend obviously referred to the boy in Ealdor. Which also meant that Merlin indeed had magic for as long as he had known him. The father he realized was probably Balinor. Merlin’s horrible crying and desperate pleading for a burial made total sense now. ‘No man is worth your tears’ was about the worst thing he could have said. But the girl? When had Merlin ever been interested in a girl?

His stomach then let out a loud drawn out growl.

The sorcerer snorted. “Not used to going without food, are you? But still so quick to scorn Merlin and Gaius for the food they can afford.”

He was about to quip that Merlin stole plenty of food but had Merlin actually needed that food? Was the stealing out of necessity instead of jests and banter? His stomach cramped again then. The slop he had eaten in Ealdor, that porridge he saw Merlin and Gaius eat so often. That hadn’t been a preference or anything but just what they could afford? With a sickening feeling he started to realize that he didn’t actually know how much Merlin was paid. Too little to buy food? There was a time though, when Merlin had wasted the food he had pilfered. When Hilig had been about to rough Merlin up. Because he, like many really, thought he could simply get away with it. His frantic mind then suddenly remembered that a beast had escaped then, from Halig. Could that be her?

“Will and Balinor?” That received a curt nod. “And the girl that escaped from Halig?” He didn’t want to risk calling her a beast.

“Freya. She had been cursed and cast out of her tribe.”

A curse? So not some hideous monster like the Questing Beast or the Lamia after all. ‘Was it because I threw water over you?’ another stupid thing to ask, truly.

He swallowed, desperate for something he could control. “Do you know where he is?”

The sorcerer turned around and placed one hand over the door handle. “He doesn’t want to talk to you. Your rant about how he should accept his role in life as your servant finally broke him out of his obsession.”

“No! He said he would be happy to be my servant till the day he died!”

“Is that any reason to deny him his own happiness?” The sorcerer said hotly as he turned around again. It hurt him deeply, though he made sure not to show it. Or he tried, at least. In any case, the next remark bested his control easily. “A Court Sorcerer is still a servant anyway.”

He groaned as that realization hit him hard. “But he would be us-” That running gag was the only thing he had to fall back upon with all the turmoil he felt. Even if he hadn’t really meant any of it the last couple of years. But it didn’t feel right. So he swallowed and instead said “He would change. Everything would change.”

“So he needs to scrub your floors and clean your socks forever?” The sorcerer said that with a derision as if he knew that had never actually been a part of Merlin’s job.

He shook his head. "It's not about any of that. Before Merlin stumbled into my life I woke up nearly every morning wondering if it would be worth it and every night I wondered if I had actually lived. Now it's one big adventure, with good and bad days, but at least they all matter. He makes me, Arthur, matter."

“You would always matter to him.” For once the sorcerer didn’t sound abrasive.

He placed his hands on his shoulders as he started shivering. “He's like the blanket or the pacifier I could never have. I still dream of that one time he almost hugged me. I'm weak and a disappointment. I'll never be a good King. Why would anyone even love me?”

He hated himself for letting this weakness out and to a stranger no less. But, maybe that was why? It wasn’t like he could lower himself in this sorcerer's esteem even further. Everyone was always so judgemental about him. He was never good enough. He always had to be confident though, always had to be right. Nobody would follow a weak king!

“That's your father talking.” The sorcerer said, now gently. “He was wrong, Arthur. Many people love you and you are a good king.”

“How could I be?" He choked out.

All the contradictions really hit him then. He needed to act for the good of the Kingdom. He hadn’t always taken that to heart and he hadn’t always known what the good was in the first place. But he had truly done his best to be a good prince and ruler. It had crushed him for most of his life. Merlin was the only one who helped him bear it, but he also had the highest expectations of him. He never said it, not really. But it was clear in his devotion and his confidence in him becoming the greatest king. It was suffocating at times. He sometimes worried Merlin would one day realize he had been mistaken in his assessment. He sighed. If he hadn’t been selfish and promoted Merlin along with Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival and Elyan would things have been different then? Maybe everything with his Uncle wouldn’t have happened then. But it could have very well led to another war. One to conquer Ealdor or maybe even Essetir. As long as Merlin was a servant he would never suggest something like that. Even if he did, it could easily be dismissed since it came from a servant. He started to hate himself even more as he realized he treated Merlin poorly out of his own insecurities and inadequacies. In many ways, Merlin was more powerful than Guinevere. Him reminding Merlin of his place as a servant was usually because he himself had almost forgotten it. The good for the Kingdom and Merlin, why could he never figure that out?!

“Why did you never show any of this to Merlin?” The sorcerer asked cautiously as he took a step closer.

His breath escaped him in a big huff. “Another reason for him to doubt me?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Then why did he leave?” Arthur said after his head had snapped up.

The sorcerer stumbled a bit then while muttering something incomprehensible. One syllable he could understand and it had his head snapping upwards and his eyes blowing wide. Prat. He lunged from his seated position in a heartbeat. Desperation driving his muscles in a way he would probably feel tomorrow. He still wasn’t fast enough. Merlin simply vanished and he crashed against the closed door. By the time he got up and opened the door, Gwaine and Leon already stood on the other side. One look at their searching eyes made it clear they had no clue about Merlin, hadn’t seen anybody leave in general. He turned around and plopped down on the bed, gesturing the two knights in.

“Tell me truly” He looked them in the eyes then. “Has Merlin been treated poorly?”

“Yes” said Gwaine, “No” Leon with the same quickness and intensity. They then looked at each other in clear disbelief. He needed to intervene before it became an argument.

“Leon, your council is valued but I need to pay attention to the unexpected here.” He waited until Leon nodded. “Gwaine, why do you say that so decisively?”

“Are you joking? You denied Merlin the agency over his life!” Gwaine then looked between him and Leon, as he saw his own confusion mirrored on Leon. “He’s not a slave!” Gwaine was almost yelling but that didn’t make what he was saying any clearer. “Merlin never needed permission to enter the tournament.”

He slumped, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Slave. Gwaine was right that Merlin did have a right to quit his job. Did have a right to a personal life and aspirations in general. He just couldn’t imagine his life without Merlin by his side.

“Gwaine it wasn’t about permission but about what’s good for him. He would have been humiliated, maybe even hurt.” Leon said in a soft, placating tone.

“And that is still his decision to make. Friends support each other, build each other up. You’ve made me forget that.”

Arthur wasn’t sure if Gawine directed that at Leon or himself. Probably both. When did he build Merlin up? Had he even truly cheered him up when he had intended that? His best friend, his father and the only girl he ever loved. He hadn’t paid attention to any of it. He just wanted to get Merlin out of his gloom. For his own benefit, really. There was so much more going on here than just this tournament.

“But any change could break his good luck charm.”

His head shot up and he looked at Leon with narrowed eyes. “His what?”

“You unbelievable bastard!” Yelled Gwaine. “You made him lose the gloves I gave him because of some bullshit superstition!”

Leon took a step closer to Gwaine and started yelling back. “It’s not-.” He then stepped back and took a deep breath. “Look; you never knew Camelot before Merlin was here. We shouldn’t have won half of what we did.”

“Yeah. Because of his magic.” Gwaine elaborated after seeing Leon’s bulging eyes. “What? "It's legal now.”

Leon’s mouth and hands did some uncoordinated movements but managed to communicate nothing. He got up then and regained as much regality as he could before he proclaimed “It’s his decision to tell people that.” The two knights focused on him. “I need to confer with Gaius how to tell Merlin about his new job.”

“Sire-”

“Merlin has decided the fate of the Kingdom several times and never failed me.” He said with full confidence and authority. “I should have trusted his judgment in this. I should have trusted all of them.” Which wasn’t said the same way. At all.

“Princess, you know you will still be his best friend, right?” Gwaine had placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. “You aren’t losing him.”

“I’ll still miss him every-” He couldn’t finish that sentence. He had already said too much, really. He looked down and to the side. Wondering how to regain some dignity.

Merlin’s head suddenly poked out from beneath the bed, looking straight at him with a cheeky smile on his face. “Would it help if I gave you a ring?”