Battle Scars (Merlin)

Chapter 9

"I don't want to talk to you, sorcerer," Arthur spits. If he notices the pain or anger flash in Merlin's eyes he doesn't care.

"Don't you dare call me that," Merlin hisses, taking a bold step forward. "Don't you dare call me that, and just dump me into that category with all those others that have tried to kill you, like that" – he snapped his fingers – "like all I've done doesn't matter."

"What have you done?" Arthur's a little taken back by the bitterness that creeps into Merlin's voice but is quick to retort anyway. "What have you ever done – apart from push me out of the way of that dagger – that has ever saved my life?"

When Merlin speaks again, his voice is hollow. "More things than you can imagine. Want me to name one?"

"Please!"

"I stopped a dragon from killing you and all of Camelot!" Merlin's voice rings out in the dense forest, echoing back to him off the trees. "And do you know what the cost of that was? I had to let my own father die in my arms!"

Funny sometimes, how silence can say more things than words can.

"I know how that feels, and I'm sorry. But it doesn't change who you are." Arthur's voice takes on a hard edge again, and he pivots, storming away. He lets his feet guide him, eyes focusing on the job of stopping his tears from falling.

So focused, in fact, he doesn't notice the cliff edge until he steps over it and finds himself falling through the air. His thoughts become a mess of paranoia about witchcraft before he realizes, still within that split second, it's his own fault.

But before he hits the ground, and he's only about a foot above it, he stops and merely...hovers in a mid-air. Vaguely he becomes aware of shouting, and then hits the ground. A stone presses into his cheek and he raises his head, spitting dirt from his mouth. Arthur rolls over and then clambers up, just in time to see Merlin fall down the last few feet of cliff, regaining his feet at the bottom and stumbling towards the older man.

"That was magic you just used? You just used magic on me?" Arthur shouts at him, voice simply rolling in accusation.

Merlin rolls his eyes. "Get a grip, Arthur. I've done it before!" Then he adds in a mutter, "And I just saved your life with it."

Something inside of Arthur snaps. He draws his sword and aims a blow at Merlin, who after years as his sparring partner dodges it easily. This simple gesture infuriates Arthur beyond what he thought his anger limit was. He goes in, and this blow should definitely slice through his skin and pierce his heart, but Merlin's eyes flash golden and Arthur is thrown back a few paces.

The worst thing is, perhaps, just how natural the colour looks. Arthur takes a single step back, a broken man, and flees.

It takes a bit of time for Gwaine to find Merlin. For one thing, he doesn't know the exact route he took. For another, the cliff face is really quite steep, and Gwaine's really not in the mood for dying right now.

"I would ask where Arthur's gone, but I think we both know you don't want to talk about it."

Gwaine's voice startles Merlin out of his haze of pain, depression and cold. He scrambles to his feet and then stands both awkwardly and defensively before the knight, remembering the conflicted emotions that passed over his face.

"Relax. I don't bite on rainy days," Gwaine says, but without his usual humour, and instead with a touch of something that Merlin recognizes unpleasantly as prejudice. "Do you?"

"Gwaine -"

"Oh, you probably don't bite, do you? Just stick a snake thing onto someone's neck and torture them, like Morgana did to Elyan."

"Gwaine -"

"Well, do you?"

"No. I once had a snake thing put into my neck by Morgana, though, which made me try and kill Arthur."

"So you admit! You've tried to kill the king before!" Gwaine begins to stride off.

"What? No!" Merlin runs to catch up, and grabs his arm, spinning him around. "What's this about, Gwaine? Me having magic and not telling you, what?"

"This is about you having magic!" Gwaine yells. "I never told you, did I? I never told you exactly how my father died?" Gwaine nearly starts crying.

"How?" Merlin asks curiously, noticing the glimmer of tears in his friend's eyes. He gets the feeling that this friendship is one-sided now, though.

"At the hands of a sorcerer!" With that, Gwaine sprints off in the direction Arthur went, and let the first of his tears fall.

"How did you know?"

Percival looks up and meets Merlin's steady gaze.

"Know what?"

"That I'm Emrys."

"Ah. That." Percival sighs and looks down at the flints in his hands and the now roaring fire.

"Yes. That. The reason life is suddenly so shit," Merlin replies easily. Settling across the fire, he makes a nodding gesture with his head. "Go on."

Percival takes a deep breath and chucks the two stones into his ravel bag. "I was helping a druid child escape from a raid on her camp" – Merlin's eyes flicker up to Percival's and his face softens – "and just as I'd got her into Camelot we were seen by guards. She ran straight towards them to hand herself in so I wouldn't be caught, but before she did she said: 'One day Emrys will come. One day I'll be safe.'"

Merlin swallows a painful lump in his throat. He remembers that girl; Arthur had secretly sent her away to another camp that he chose to overlook and said in an official statement that she had used her powers to escape the dungeons. Merlin realizes with a sinking heart that any progress made towards Arthur liking magic he probably just set back a thousand years.

"And I was just about to ask her what she meant, when she said something else: 'You know Emrys right now, but not as Emrys. One day, he will be revealed to you.'" Percival looked at Merlin. "I know what she was talking about now." He settles the pot of stew over the burning logs. "We'll eat soon."

At the mention of food, Merlin makes a face.

"Not hungry?" Percival questions.

"Nope," is the curt reply.

Percival glances up, surprised by the harsh tone but is saved from asking anything when Arthur and Gwaine sit down on either side of Merlin, effectively boxing him in.

"But Merlin isn't evil," Gwaine repeated. "Maybe we should hear him out."

"Magic killed my father, Gwaine," Arthur said.

"Killed mine too," the knight said, so quietly Arthur thought he hadn't spoken for a moment. Gwaine sighed, stuck his sword in the ground and offered him a hand up, which the king grudgingly accepted.

"You're right. We should hear him out."

"Glad to hear it, princess."

"We think that we can forgive, and well, maybe not forget, but maybe try to start everything again. On one condition."

"Yes. Anything!" Merlin nods, eyes fever-bright with excitement.

"You tell us everything about the scars."

"Ah." The grin slides from Merlin's face.