Archive of Our Own ^beta

People would describe Lancelot as many things: kind, heroic, and unbelievably brave. He was the noblest of nobles without even being a noble. He was a shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh with. However, one thing only a few people knew about him was his inclination to sew chaos. Yes, he was the best of them. But he still liked to have a little fun when he could.

After a morning training session, with sweat on his brow and Merlin on his mind (as he tended to be more often than not lately), Lancelot was surprised when Gwaine pulled him into an alcove with an uncharacteristically serious expression. 

Ever since he met Merlin and learned of his magic, Lancelot was prepared for the day that he’d need to break the Knight’s Code and lie for the sake of his friend—his best friend , if he was honest. He was ready with however many excuses and lies he needed to keep Merlin safe. So when Gwaine mentioned the word magic, Lancelot was ready. However, it was not Merlin’s name that the drunkard uttered, but another.

“Lance…I think Leon has magic.”

Lancelot’s mind went blank, his expression falling just enough for Gwaine’s eyes to shine with a moment of hesitance. But Lancelot had enough sense left in him to settle his features into a more neutral, listening look. Inviting enough for Gwaine not to leave him stranded.

“Why do you think Leon has magic?”

Gwaine guffawed and scratched his head, looking like he needed a drink. Which, knowing him, he probably did.

“Think about it! I learned he survived a deadly encounter only with the help of some druids. Why would druids help a Camelot knight unless he was at least somewhat magical? Plus, there’s no way he can be so…composed? Collected? I don’t know, but he can’t be so prepared at all hours of the day without using magic to keep him going.”

Now, the moral thing to do would be to assure Gwaine that Leon did not have any magic or was magical in any way. The noble, right thing to do would be to squash Gwaine’s suspicions before they spun further.

However, Camelot had been a little too calm recently. And if Gwaine thought Leon had magic, he’d be more likely to overlook Merlin during moments of evident sorcery and look instead at Leon.

“Well,” Lancelot scratched some of his stubble, catching Gwaine’s attention. “It is hard to imagine how he remained unharmed during the dragon attack while many others were injured or even killed.”

Gwaine’s eyes lit up, metaphorically, of course, and not with the golden glow of magic, before giving Lancelot a tremendous grin that did nothing to slow the growing sense of guilt in Lancelot’s chest. 

“See, I knew you’d see my point! Hah, imagine it: a Camelot knight with magic!”

Lancelot couldn’t contain a snort. While Merlin may not have been a knight in name, he was a soldier and a cornerstone of Camelot. He shook away the image and watched in slight amusement as Gwaine merrily hummed down the hall on his way back to the knight’s quarters.

“I have got to tell Merlin about this.”

~~~

“Gwaine thinks what ?” Merlin yelped, accidentally dropping the mortar and pestle he was holding, only to instinctively stop its descent in mid-air without even a word. (While Merlin didn’t think anything of it, Lancelot couldn’t stop his gasp of awe at the ease with which Merlin performed such amazing acts.)

“That Leon has magic.”

Merlin slowly put down his equipment, only to clutch the table from how hard he burst into laughter. Lancelot quickly followed as Merlin’s laugh was as contagious as a cold. 

“ Oh–oh, my gods ! I can’t believe that- he really–” Merlin couldn’t breathe from how hard he was laughing. “And you went with it?!”

“I just went along with it,” Lancelot readily admitted with a wide grin. It was nice to see Merlin happy for once. The man had been prone to falling into bouts of sadness recently, and Lancelot was getting worried. But for this moment, Merlin was the young boy who waltzed into Camelot with the confidence of a much bigger man.

“Oh, that’s hilarious,” Merlin giggled hysterically. At that moment, an idea popped into his head as his lips curled into a smirk. “I just had a very brilliant idea.”

He leaned over the table to cup his hand over Lancelot’s ear (either oblivious or just ignoring the way Lancelot’s face burned red from their close range) and whispered his plan. The room was empty, and nothing stopped him from speaking louder, but this was one of those times when he felt it was more appropriate to whisper. As if he were embarrassed to utter the words aloud in fear of the Triple Goddesses casting judgment on him.

But Lancelot proved why he was Merlin’s closest confidant (maybe even above Arthur) and just gave him an identical smirk, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Merlin, has anyone told you that you were a genius?”

Merlin just huffed and knocked their shoulders together.

“No, just you.”

~~~

Elyan was minding his business in the lower town on his way back to the castle after eating lunch with Gwen at her home when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder.

“Hello, Elyan.” The man turned and grinned when he saw Lancelot. The two have never been the closest, definitely not as close as Lancelot and Merlin were, but he liked to believe that the two of them were good friends. They were Knights of the Round Table together, and that inspired a sense of belonging with someone.

“Hello, Lancelot. How are you?”

The man smiled easily and replied, “I am good, my friend. How are you? You’re returning from Guinevere’s house, yes?”

The two continued their conversation to Elyan’s room in the knight’s quarters. Elyan was about to bid Lancelot goodbye when the man suddenly looked uneasy and whipped his gaze around the empty hall.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Elyan was worried. Lancelot never looked uneasy; he always faced every challenge with determination and valor.

“Yes, yes, I am fine. It’s just…” Lancelot hesitated before leaning closer to whisper, “Have you ever noticed anything weird about Gwaine?”

Elyan’s brows furrowed as he took in the question. “Weird? Weird how?”

“Just…have you ever noticed how he never runs out of mead? Or how he always has an apple on him? Or how he’ll have a hangover in the morning yet be completely fine not an hour later?”

Elyan thought back, and he realized that all these statements were correct. However, Elyan couldn’t see where his fellow knight was going with them.

“Do you imagine he’s a bit,” Lancelot looked around the hall once more and murmured the word “magical?”

Elyan gasped and held up a finger to shush Lancelot.

“Are you mad?! You can’t say that!”

Lancelot at least looked contrite. “I apologize. I just felt the need to confide in a close friend.”

Something warmed in Elyan’s chest, and he seriously considered the question.

“Well…now that you mention it, it is strange.”

“Also, Gwaine seems to have a way with words that I’ve noticed many sorcerers share.”

Elyan nodded slowly at first, then sped up as he connected the dots in his head. Many instances made much more sense when he remembered close saves and lucky moments.

“Yes, I do believe you’re right! But…” Elyan felt lost, “what do we do?”

Here, Lancelot hesitated.

“I do not know. Merlin is afraid of magic and hates any mention of it, and King Arthur doesn’t feel too positively about it either.”

“Do you think our friend would be accepted if we tried to shed a more positive light on magic?”

Lancelot shook his head with a helpless smile.

“I do not know, my friend. But I would not be opposed as to show some subtle support for Gwaine. He is my friend, no matter if he has magic or not.”

Elyan felt a little guilty of his thoughts after hearing that. He himself has had both good and bad moments with magic. His father, for instance, was killed on suspicion of magic. His sister almost burned as well. But he’s seen the usefulness of magic on his travels. And Gwaine was his friend and fellow knight. So, despite his hesitance, he was ready to be there for his friend in whatever way he could be.

“I do believe you’re right,” Elyan nodded. “For my friend.”

Internally, Lancelot’s heart flipped as he imagined Merlin in Gwaine’s place. His magic accepted by his friends, and finally free to express his true self.

But, at the end of this charade, that dream may well become a reality.

~~~

Merlin was on his way to bring Arthur his lunch when he caught sight of two of his friends whispering to each other with serious faces around the corner. Merlin, an expert at hiding himself after around 10 years, tried to erase his presence as much as he could and pressed up against the wall on the corner. He internally apologized to Arthur as he dumped his lunch on the floor to look around the corner using the silver platter.

‘I’ll get him a new lunch after this.’ Merlin thought, watching Percival and Lancelot cautiously position themselves against the hallway wall. While they were muttering to each other quietly, Merlin’s big ears weren’t just for show. He’s also realized he can use magic to bring sounds closer to his ears.

“What you’re saying is treasonous, Lance,” Percival murmured, though he didn’t look as outraged as he did concerned.

“I know, my friend. But I just had to get your opinion on this, seeing as I know you have the most knowledge on this particular subject.”

Merlin had to give it to him; if he hadn’t known Lancelot as well as he did, he would have never known his friend was lying. 

“Well,” the gentle giant sighed, “I suppose I could hear your reasoning. However, Elyan is one of my friends, and if I feel as though you’re treading into disrespect, I will not stand for it. Even though you are also a friend.” 

Lancelot nodded cooly, but Merlin could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to burst into laughter. That caused Merlin to stifle a snort that would have gotten him caught.

“I understand, Percival. And I mean no disrespect. I just wish to educate myself on this subject, as I have no knowledge of magic and I know you spent time with druids. There are just some things about our friend that don’t seem to add up to me without the idea of magic being involved.”

Merlin shook his head. Lancelot was truly convincing, and Percival seemed to think so, too, as the large man’s entire demeanor softened.

“Of course, my friend. If what you’re saying is true about Elyan possessing magic, wouldn’t Guinevere know?”

“I was speaking with Guinevere the other day, and she mentioned something strange to me that made me begin my questioning. She said that her and Elyan’s mother was,” here he hesitated, before continuing on in a much quieter voice, “burned by Uther on suspicions of sorcery.”

A shudder went down Merlin’s spine because he knew Lancelot would not lie about this. The man may lie on behalf of Merlin or about the chaos they cause together, but never on something as serious as this. And that made Merlin all the more regretful of his actions from his first year in Camelot. When he almost condemned Gwen to the pyre because of his actions. Did she feel like her mother when she was walking to the gallows? Could she smell the burning wood and call out her mother’s name?

He shook away those thoughts to further explore later, adding his rising guilt to the magnificent pile in the back of his head.

“Ah,” Percival looked remorseful, “my condolences.”

Lancelot just shook it away as it wasn’t him who deserved the thought. “Yes, however what I mean to say is that Elyan has magic in his blood. Guenivere too, but she has never expressed any sign of sorcery.”

Well, that one time was Merlin’s fault, but he figured he proved it wasn’t her enough to let it go.

“And Elyan has been outside of Camelot long enough to develop and train any magical abilities he may have. That’s why I came to you, my friend. After your time with the druids, have you noticed anything…magical about Elyan?”

Percival thought about it for a second before his eyes widened a bit.

“Now that you have mentioned it…One time when we were on patrol together, I noticed Elyan gripping protectively at a charm around his neck. I don’t know what it’s for, but it reminded me of a druidic protection symbol. Do you think he made it using magic to protect himself?”

“I don’t know. However, what I do know is that even if Elyan has magic, he is still our friend and we should support him.”

The shocked look in Percival’s eyes melted away into a determined gleam.

“I promise you. No matter what, Elyan is still my friend. And I shall protect him from any unnecessary harm.”

When Lancelot smiled and patted their giant friend on the arm, Merlin couldn't contain his glee.

“Right with you, friend.”

And with that, Merlin decided that he’d heard and seen enough. Grabbing the food he’d left on the floor, he bit into the slice of bread as he returned to the kitchens, only half annoyed at the right fit Arthur would be in once Merlin decided to show up.

The other half, though, he could only call it something like hope.

~~~

“And how did you manage to convince Leon that Percival was using magic?” Merlin asked over their cups of (stolen) mulled wine. They were in Merlin’s bedroom for privacy, and Lancelot had just finished spinning the tail of their latest con.

“Well,” Lancelot hummed, “I just casually mentioned the giant race and how the women like to seek companionship with those of different species. Specifically human males. And he seemed to come to the conclusion on his own.”

Merlin burst out into peels of laughter, spilling drops of his wine onto the hardwood floor. “And he believed that?!” His voice rose in pitch as he leaned his whole body into Lancelots, who himself was chuckling at the humor.

“I know,” Lancelot breathed, leaning his head on Merlin’s shaking one. “I almost couldn’t go through with it with how innocent he was. It was as if he was just looking for an excuse to question Pervical’s height.”

“I bet he feels jealous,” Merlin scoffed in good fun, putting on an act, “that there’s a new knight stronger and taller than him, the first knight.”

Lancelot snickered and played along. “Maybe after all the mythical creatures he’s seen and faced, he’d much rather believe that Percival was related to one rather than accept the man was more gifted by the gods than him.”

That caused Merlin to crack up again, his lips breathing puffs of air directly onto the connecting skin of his shoulder and neck.

“Maybe he believes that Percival is related to bears. It’d sure answer a few questions.”

“Hah!” Merlin gasped into Lancelot’s neck, causing the man to stiffen slightly. He then shuddered and held onto the back of Merlin’s neck with his free hand. He decided to put down their cups of wine so as not to spill anymore, seeing as Merlin was laughing a little too hard, and they only had one bottle.

“Oh, I wonder what he’ll think after it’s all revealed. Do you think he’ll still believe it?”

Lancelot chuckled and ran his hand through Merlin’s raven locks. His hair was dry and a little curly; surely, it would twist around his ridiculous ears if he let it grow. “I don’t know.”

Merlin settled down but didn’t move from his close spot. Lancelot just let out a fond sigh and laid them both down on the bed, both on their sides facing each other. The bed was small with one thread-bare blanket under themselves. Meaning there was little room between their faces, their noses a slight distance from touching.

“Thank you, Lancelot, for helping me with this,” Merlin whispered, the air in the room becoming more serious. 

“Anything, Merlin,” Lancelot whispered, nothing but truth in his eyes, which were subtly glancing down to Merlin’s lips. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Merlin just smiled, something affectionate yet unbearably sad.

“I know.”

~~~

Arthur groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face, almost feeling the stress lines grow in the grooves of his skin. He was seriously debating overhauling his entire council. They did nothing but give him stress and torture him.

“Why am I king,” he whined, “why couldn’t I be a farmer or something?”

Hearing a knock at his door, he wondered if Merlin had finally learned some propriety, then immediately dismissed the thought because Merlin would never learn manners in his life. Even right now, he was late with Arthur’s lunch.

“Come in.”

He was surprised to see his lovely Guinevere fidgeting with her beautiful purple dress. It was one Arthur commissioned the royal seamstress to make after their wedding. 

“Guinevere! What are you doing here–Not that I don’t want you here,” Arthur panicked, standing away from his desk to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I know that you were supposed to be with Lady Madeline at this hour.”

“I know, Arthur,” Guinevere giggled before becoming serious again. “I just needed to discuss something with you–something I feel is important.”

“Anything, Guinevere, you can discuss anything with me,” Arthur smiled, though he felt some of his hackles raise at her sad look.

“I overheard something just now that I think you should know.” At his nod, she continued, “I overheard a conversation just now between Lancelot and Merlin.”

“So?” Arthur raised a brow, “They are good friends, are they not.”

Guinevere looked at him momentarily as if he were missing something right before his eyes but quickly shook it off to get back on topic. “Well, yes, but this was something else. I think that…I think that Lancelot has magic.”

Something inside Arthur went cold as he stumbled back.

“No,” he whispered in horror. “No, no that can’t be true.”

“Think about it, Arthur,” she whispered, melancholy in her sweet, brown eyes. “It makes sense. Remember the Griffin? You told me that Gaius said it can only be killed with magic. And then Lancelot killed it? He might have left because he realized how it would look to your father. And when he came back, he helped defeat the immortal army, which could only be fought with magic. There are so many instances where there is magic surrounding him, Arthur.”

No, no, not Lancelot. Daring, noble Lancelot. If he had magic, he wouldn’t be so pure of heart. He would be as corrupted as Morgana.

But Morgana was also kind-hearted once. Did that mean that there was a waiting period? Would Lancelot eventually turn cold as ice and betray him, too?

“And I know how awful it is to accuse someone of sorcery, trust me Arthur, it is not pleasant,” she clenched her fists in horror, and Arthur, despite his racing thoughts, comforted her the best he could by taking her hand in his.

“I know you are not the type to lie, my dear Guinevere. You wouldn’t lie to me about this.”

She smiled, though it was a bitter thing. It made him remember how close she and Lancelot were, how he saw a budding affection for each other in their eyes before he let his selfishness get in the way, and how she must be feeling to accuse the man of this.

“I don’t want to believe it, Arthur,” she confided, her voice shaking slightly. “But I can’t forget what he and Merlin have said.”

“What did they say?”

“They said that…that magic has been in Camelot for years, by your side. That magic was beautiful,” here, she blushed as if remembering some perverse act, “and that Lacelot enjoyed magic. That he saw the usefulness of it and how it's been protecting you all these years.”

Here, Arthur couldn’t help but stumble back into his desk chair. He knew how scared Merlin was of magic, so maybe Lancelot was trying to convince his friend to see it more positively because he himself had magic.

“But if he had magic, why would he be a knight of Camelot? Wouldn’t he rather stay in a different kingdom and be a knight there?”

“Maybe,” Guinevere bit her lip, “maybe he wanted to be a Camelot knight to try and change peoples minds about magic?”

“ Why ?” Arthur all but growled, “we know magic corrupts. It is evil and has done more harm than good.”

Guinevere looked at him, then, and saw the fierce state of his emotions battling it out in his chest. 

“But…Lancelot has done nothing but good.” Even she sounded half-hearted as if trying to look on the bright side.

“So did Morgana,” they both flinched at her name, “she was good, too, before magic got to her.”

Guinevere bit her lip again before sighing and walking over to behind Arthur to lay her arms around his shoulders. Arthur would never admit it, but he appreciated the closeness. It was hard to think of Morgana and not feel a warring mix of guilt, betrayal, anger, and grief. She was his sister, and he had loved her like it. 

“ Why ,” Arthur whispered, age-old anguish deep in his voice. “Why must he have magic?”

“Perhaps to show us the good side of it?” Guinevere murmured. “Maybe he was sent here by the Gods. He sure acts like it sometimes.”

Arthur huffed with stinging eyes. “He does,” he scoffed, “he’s my best knight, yet he acts like a king himself with how dignified he is.”

“I think that even with his magic, he’s loyal to you, Arthur. And if not to you, then definitely to Merlin.”

Here, Arthur shot her a confused glare. “ Merlin ? He’s more loyal to Merlin than to me? His king?”

Guinevere blushed but kept her gaze firm, a smile pulling up her lips. " Yes, you unobservant idiot. He basically follows Merlin like a dog, always chasing after his heel.”

“ You spend too much time with Merlin if you’re calling me an idiot, ” Arthur muttered before really thinking about it. Huh. “They always pair up together—even during the immortal army, when Merlin must have been scared out of his wit. I assumed he’d want to stay close to me because he knows my strength.” Guinevere puffed, “but he went off with Lancelot.”

“They’re always together, Sweetheart,” she mused, “they’re like peas in a pod.”

“Like what?” He turned a confused look at her.

“Peas in a pod. Merlin says it describes two people joined at the hip.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” he muttered. “So Merlin’s also been lying to me. He knows Lancelot’s magic and has kept it from me?”

He tried to sound angry but knew he sounded crossed and hurt. Merlin, his servant–no, his friend —had lied to him about this for years.

“But…I thought he was afraid of magic?” Arthur looked toward Guinevere for answers.

“Maybe he was scared for Lancelot?”

“Maybe…He did always say he wasn’t afraid, but his obvious apprehension said otherwise.”

“Well, whatever Merlin thinks, he’d be devastated if anything happened to Lancelot,” she shot Arthur one of her looks.

“But,” he sputtered, “but he has magic! It’s outlawed!”

“Arthur, you changed the laws to knight him, to marry me . You control the laws, Arthur. And I know you’re feeling awful right now, but please give it some thought. My father died because of your father’s laws. I don’t want anyone else I love to end up like that.”

The guilt crashed into him like a wave on a beach. He knew he could never bring Tom back and couldn’t imagine sending Lancelot to a similar fate.

“I’ll…think about it.”

Guinevere kissed his temple and made her way out of their chambers.

“That’s all I ask.”

~~~

It had been a couple of months since his and Lancelot’s deception started. From then on, the rest of his friends have been not so subtly trying to mention magic at any chance they got. At first, Merlin was worried that Arthur would send them all to the dungeons for treason, but soon, he stopped looking constipated whenever sorcery was mentioned and instead looked a weird mix of resigned and curious.

They were all under the impression that only one other group member had magic and that the rest were uncomfortable with it. They were the only ones who knew that someone else had magic. So, whenever someone mentioned the words ‘magic,’ ‘sorcery,’ and ‘sorcerer,’ they all jumped at the chance to discuss the benefits of magic while also trying to say in different words that they were okay with it.

Merlin and Lancelot watched all this go down with confused masks yet maniacal laughter in their hearts. They spent nights, more often than not, huddled together in either of their rooms, cackling about the day's events.

Once, during a hunt, without any preamble or transition from the last conversation, Gwaine outright stated that he knew a sorcerer and believed them to be one of the bravest people he’s ever known. Everyone had clambered over each other to mention how they were learning to open up to sorcery, how they had met a friendly magic user or druid or magical creature, how they were “completely fine with giants, found them to be quite fascinating, really” from Leon who was sizing Percival up. It took everything in their combined powers for Merlin and Lancelot to not burst into laughter. Especially once they caught a look at Arthur’s horrified face.

So it is to say that when Arthur called them all, including Guinevere, to sit at the Round Table after he had replaced all of his council members just the week prior, and sat with a stack of scrolls on his desk almost half a book think, Merlin felt as if something extraordinary was about to happen.

He stood holding a pitcher of watered-down wine against the wall, smiling at all his friends sitting at their rightful places. From Lance's glance, he figured the man was imagining Merlin sitting at his rightful place, too. But Merlin was just a servant, and his place was in the shadows, despite anyone’s (Lancelot and Gwaine) protest.

“I have gathered you, my closest and most trustworthy knights, to discuss an important decision I have recently made.”

They were all looking at Arthur with clear, proud eyes aimed at their king.

“And I know that my next few months as newly crowned king will set the tone of my reign over Camelot. That is why I am informing you all first of this decision. I have thought long and hard, almost desperately so, and have consulted many advisors, including our physician, Gaius, over–”

“We get it, Princess. Just tell us why we’re here!” Gwaine cut in, ignoring the glares and grins thrown his way. Merlin couldn’t contain his snort, even when Arthur set his glare on him instead.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted ,” Arthur grouched, “I have made the incredibly hard decision to start the process of repealing the ban on magic.”

Merlin heard a gasp, and only after feeling multiple sets of eyes upon him did he realize that it was him who gasped. But he couldn’t even feel embarrassed as he bore his gaze into Arthur.

“Sire, are you sure that’s wise to do that so quickly?” Leon questioned, not out of hate but from a place of concern.

Merlin watched Gwaine shoot Leon a confused look.

“I thought you’d be the first to rejoice, Leon,” Gwaine had a questioning grin, only faltering at Leon’s weird look.

“Why would I be the first?” Leon shook his head. 

“Don’t you have magic?” Gwaine asked, earning multiple surprised glances between him and Leon.

“What?” Leon pushed back from the table a bit, eyes wide in shock. “I don’t have magic?”

“Really? But you’ve been making many comments on the usefulness of it?”

“Yes, but that’s because I thought Percival had magic.”

“Me?!” Percival gasped. “I may have lived with the druids, but I am magic-free.”

“Wait, you lived with druids?” Elyan asked, eyebrows raised high.

“Yes, and that’s why I thought you had magic. From the pendant around your neck,” Percival admitted.

“What?!” Elyan shook his head frantically, “Not me! I was trying to be supportive of Gwaine’s magic.”

“Oh,” Gwaine laughed, clutching the table. “I don’t have magic! If I did, I’d make myself some mead every chance I got.”

“But I thought you already did that! Lancelot told me of how you seem to magic away your hangovers.”

“Lancelot?” Gwaine frowned, looking over at Lancelot’s empty seat. None of them had noticed Lancelot leave the table, all too busy accusing each other to see the man huddle together in the corner whispering with Merlin. “But Lancelot told me that Leon had magic.”

The whole table frowned, even the royals shooting each other wide-eyed looks.

“Lancelot told me that Percival had magic and was the son of a giantess.”

“My mother is not a giant,” Percival frowned, “she was a lovely woman smaller than Lady Guinevere. And Lancelot told me that Elyan had magic because of his mother.”

Elyan and Guinevere winced at the mention of their mother, both looking reluctant at her mention.

“Hold on, hold on,” Arthur said, raising his hands to quiet the table. “We thought Lancelot had magic.”

They all looked at him as if he were crazy, but Guinevere’s nod had them all glancing over to Merlin and Lancelot’s rising-in-volume conversation.

“So, you were all led to believe that another one of you had magic by Lancelot, and we believed that Lancelot himself had magic…I believe we are owed an explanation.” Arthur raised his voice at the end and turned to look at the two men, who stopped their hushed battle and finally looked at the table.

They reluctantly made their way over and stood, their arms brushing, at the head of the table. Everyone turned in their direction.

“So we may have maybe…misled you all,” Merlin admitted, fighting down a grin and losing. He stepped on Lancelot’s foot when the man dared to snicker.

“Why did you make us all believe that there’s magic among us?” Guinevere sounded crushed, and Merlin’s face flickered with guilt for a second before Lancelot’s hand on his lower back made him feel better.

“Well…because there is magic among us.”

Everyone sat up in their seats, looking at Lancelot, who just shook his head with an amused grin.

“Not me,” he professed before looking at Merlin.

“It’s me,” Merlin took a deep, calming breath. After Arthur’s earlier statement, he didn’t believe that he’d be burned, hanged, or beheaded. But he still wasn’t looking forward to Arthur’s anger at his lies. “I have magic.”

A heavy silence filled the room, and Guinevere had her hand over her mouth to cover her gasp.

“I was born with it,” Merlin admitted, shuffling on his feet for a moment before gripping the sleeve of Lancelot’s tunic. “I could always use magic as easy as breathing. It was as if I were connected to the Earth in a way no one else was.”

“It’s amazing,” Lancelot said quietly, looking at Merlin with such tenderness that all the air escaped Merlin’s lungs. “He does such amazing things and he doesn’t even realize they’re amazing.”

“Please,” Merlin chuckled, knocking their shoulders together as if forgetting the rest were even there, “I’m not the only amazing one here.”

They grinned at each other, and suddenly, Arthur saw him and Guinevere standing there so vividly it burned.

“Merlin? Magic ?!” Arthur burst out, ignoring the burning feeling in his chest.

Merlin, on cue, looked at the wine jug he had set on the table and, with golden eyes, lifted it in the air as if with invisible hands and refilled Gwaine’s empty cup. The man in question laughed hysterically as he downed the entire thing.

“I’m sorry for lying,” Merlin looked apologetically at Arthur before turning to the rest of the table. “To everyone. No one here has magic except for me. Lance and I created this whole thing to try and get everyone to see magic in a more positive light.”

“Really, this whole thing started with Gwaine,” Lancelot and everyone else looked at an indignant Gwaine, “he came up to me and thought Leon had magic, and I just decided to go along with it.”

“So you already thought I had magic?!” Leon shot at Gwaine, who looked somewhat contrite.

“Hey, I was hungover, okay? I can’t control what comes out of my mouth during those moments.”

“Or ever,” Arthur muttered, then hissed when Guinevere slapped his arm.

“Anyway,” Merlin cut back in, “We just wanted to bring up magic in a more positive light. It’s…It’s not easy having to lie to my friends about who I am, worried about the pyre, or worse, all of your condemnation. I was just…tired of it, I guess. I’m sorry about having to lie,” Merlin took a shuddered breath before straightening and standing at full height, steel in his eyes. “But I’m not sorry for how I was born. I will not apologize for who I am, only what I’ve had to do.”

It was silent before, surprisingly, Percival was the first to speak.

“I understand your plight, Merlin. And I’ll say the same thing to you as I said to Lancelot about Elyan. You are one of my closest friends, and I will do everything I can to protect you. Magic doesn’t change who you are.”

Merlin felt tears gather in his eyes when Gwaine raised his glass in a toast. “Yeah, mate. You’re what brought me here. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without your friendship. No matter what happens, I am here for you.”

Leon and Elyan had similar sentiments, hesitant smiles on their faces. Then, Guinevere stood up and looked at Merlin with a stoic expression that sent adrenaline racing down Merlin’s spine. But then he felt himself be pulled into a tight hug, and he couldn’t stop the singular tear from running down his cheek.

“It’s okay, Merlin. It’s okay. I’m sorry you couldn’t be more open to me.”

“It’s okay, Gwen,” he whispered into her hair. It was down today, and Merlin loved the feel of her natural curls. “I know. I promise to be more truthful from now on.”

“See that you do so,” she said diplomatically before giggling as if she were the innocent serving girl she once was. No matter what, she was still his first friend in Camelot.

“Merlin.”

He gulped at Arthur's blank tone. Seeing the hidden emotions in his eyes sent Merlin’s heart racing.

“Arthur,” Merlin spoke quietly, “I know my word may not seem like much right now. But I promise, promise you , that there was never a moment I didn’t hate lying to you. Every day I felt the mounting burdens of each and every untruth I spilled to you. And I promise that there’ll be no more lies from now on. I, Merlin of Elador and Camelot, son of Hunith and Balinor, swear on my life and that of my mother, that I never lied to you about being your friend.”

That seemed to be the right choice. Arthur’s eyes pinched closed as he took a deep breath, then let it out and relaxed his body from the tense state it’d been in since Merlin’s admission. 

“This will take some time for me,” a harsh breath, “Magic has not been kind to me, Merlin.”

“I know, I know it hasn’t. And I can’t say that there won’t be moments where it doesn’t seem like pure evil. But Arthur, magic is two sides of a coin. Please let me show you the bright side of magic.”

After a tense moment, Arthur reluctantly nodded, Allowing Merlin to finally take a deep breath and sag in relief into Lancelot.

“Thank you, Arthur. Thank you.”

“I have a feeling, Merlin,” Arthur got up and clasped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. It wasn’t the same skin and bones Merlin once had when they first met. A pompous prince and a naive country boy. Now, it was full of muscle and strained by the world's weight.

“That I have a lot more to be thanking you for.”

With one last clasp, Arthur left the room with Guinevere at his side. The Once and Future King and Queen. On their way to lift the ban on magic, to lift the burdens off of Merlin’s shoulders.

“You did it, Merlin,” Lancelot stepped closer to his friend.

“Not just me,” Merlin grinned, moving his hand to give Lancelot a soft squeeze. “You’ve been here for me, Lance–more than I deserve.”

“No, my friend,” Lancelot stepped closer, unbridled by the audience, now that the room was deserted. Their friends went to think about the recent event. “I can never deserve you.”

They shared an adoring grin, only stopping when their lips met in a much-anticipated union.