Summary: Set during s4e7, The Secret Sharer -- When Arthur refuses to believe Merlin about the truth of Gaius's absence, he feels he has no choice but to reveal the real reason Gaius was hiding something.
Basically, what might have happened if Merlin revealed his magic in this episode and Arthur went with him to rescue Gaius instead of Gwaine.
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The door shuts behind Agravaine, and the gentle thud echoes through the council chambers.
“How can you believe this?” Merlin says, more accusation than question. Arthur hesitates before answering, chin falling to his chest for a moment before he looks back up at his servant.
“I know how you must feel. We questioned him. He’s been consorting with sorcerers, he more or less admitted to it.” Merlin keeps his eyes fixated in front of him, refusing to look at Arthur.
“And that makes him a traitor?” Anger bubbles up into his throat, bleeding into his words.
“Why run if you have nothing to hide?” Arthur says.
“He’s given his life to this kingdom. He would never betray you.” Merlin knows his words to be true, he knows Gaius would never leave like this. His fists clench behind his back and he desperately tries to push back the tears welling in his eyes.
“Then explain his actions,” Arthur says, exasperated.
“All right,” Merlin finally looks at Arthur. “They’re lies. Gaius would never run off in the night.”
Arthur sighs and looks away.
“Look, I know it’s hard. No break-ins were reported. His possessions are missing. A horse has been stolen,” The hurt is almost as obvious in Arthur’s voice as it is in Merlin’s tear-filled eyes.
“He would not leave without saying goodbye to me.” Merlin says in a rush. He jerks his head to face away from Arthur as the tears begin to fall, not wanting him to see. Silence stretches between the two and Arthur sighs, a sound that makes Merlin want to shake him. Doesn’t he see? Why can’t he see?
“Agravaine has made this story up.” Merlin says then, hoping, praying that Arthur will believe him for once.
“I shall ignore that last comment.” Of course he doesn’t. He never believes him.
“Because he’s your uncle you will not see who he really is--”
“Merlin!” Arthur shouts, and the sound echoes, ringing in Merlin’s ears. “I’ve had my heart broken enough already today. I don’t want to lose another friend.”
Merlin says nothing, eyes fixed on the stone wall across from him. Arthur pushes his chair back and gets to his feet, walking with purpose towards him and brandishing one of the damning books.
“Gaius condemned himself,” He slams the book back onto the table. “There’s no more to be said.”
Arthur makes to leave, but something wells up inside Merlin, some impulsive, desperate need for Arthur to just listen to him.
“He was protecting me.” He says, heart jumping in his chest. Arthur stops, his hand on the door.
“What?” His voice has an edge to it, a warning for Merlin to tread carefully. Merlin swallows and turns to face his King.
“You said he was hiding something. It was me. I--” He chokes on his next words, tears falling freely down his cheeks. “I’m a sorcerer, Arthur. I have magic.”
Anger takes over Arthur’s features and he storms over to where Merlin stands, crowding into his personal space.
“Don’t ever say that again. I know you love Gaius, and I know he was like a father to you, but telling lies like this--”
Merlin’s eyes flash gold, and wind rushes through the council chambers, rustling the pages of the books and ruffling the men’s hair. A look of horror dawns on Arthur’s face and he stumbles backwards until his back hits the table. Merlin chokes on a sob, ducking his head in shame.
“I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”
“How--how could you do this to me? After everything we’ve seen, everything we’ve done together--” Arthur’s voice shakes, and Merlin digs his nails into the soft skin of his arm.
“I was born with magic, Arthur. I’ve always had it.” He watches his tears fall on the stone floor, waiting for the sword in his chest, or the shout for the guards. When neither of them come, he looks back up at Arthur. “I use it to protect you.”
“That’s impossible,” Arthur whispers, shaking his head, but Merlin can see the gears turning in his head, the puzzle pieces all coming together. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Gaius was protecting me. He knew if you and Agravaine found out, you’d--” Merlin chokes on another sob. “But now he’s been kidnapped, Arthur, and I can’t--”
Arthur shakes his head, steadying himself with a hand on the top of a chair.
“You’ve just admitted to lying to me for the past seven years Merlin, and committing treason on top of that.” He grits out.
“I know. I know, and you can execute me as soon as we save Gaius. Please, Arthur.” Merlin lifts his head, finally meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Please.”
Arthur swallows, pain-filled eyes boring into Merlin’s, before he nods.
“How?”
Merlin nearly starts sobbing all over again with relief, his shoulders dropping and his arms falling back to his sides.
“We need to search your uncle’s chambers. Hopefully, he’ll have something that will help us find Gaius in there,” Arthur lets out a pained noise, but nods.
“I can distract him.” He says, pressing his lips tightly together. “I can’t buy you a lot of time.”
“It will be enough,” Merlin says. Awkward silence falls over the room.
“Thank you,” Merlin finally blurts out, chest constricting. “I -- I figured you’d run me through when I told you.”
Arthur looks away.
“I thought about it.” Merlin flinches. “I’ll go find my uncle. You won’t have long.”
With that, Arthur pushes out of the council chambers, leaving Merlin alone.
Later, Merlin returns to Arthur with his finger stained orange with the unfamiliar substance he found on Agravaine’s boots.
“Do you recognize this?” He asks, showing it to Arthur in the candlelight. Arthur jerks away from Merlin as he thrusts his thumb toward him, and something crumbles in Merlin’s chest. Arthur reaches out hesitantly, swiping some of the substance onto his own thumb before sniffing it.
“That’s iron ore,” He says, brow furrowing. “There’s only one place in Camelot where you can find it.”
“Where?” Merlin asks, itching to jump to his feet and run to wherever it is.
“Ridge of Chemary. Agravaine has no reason to have been there.” Merlin watches Arthur steady himself, the almost-proof of his uncle’s betrayal heavy on his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” He says, clenching his fists to keep from reaching out. Arthur shakes his head and gets to his feet.
“Ready the horses. I’ll meet you at the stables.” Merlin nods, and gets to his feet.
“What are you going to do?” He asks, hesitating at the door. Arthur’s face looks gaunt in the faint glow of the candle, shadows stark and eyes hollow.
“Nothing that concerns you.” The words hurt, like a dagger to the chest, but Merlin understands. He nods, and leaves for the stables.
The night is dark and moonless, thick clouds blocking the sky. It makes navigation difficult, and Merlin wants to scream that they’re going too slow, that they won’t make it in time. Arthur rides ahead, a stoic and silent shadow. He doesn’t speak until the Ridge is in sight.
“Were you the sorcerer that killed my father?” He asks, and the question is so shocking that Merlin can’t help but answer honestly.
“Yes and no. I was trying to heal him, but Morgana found out about your plans to heal your father using magic. She enchanted a necklace and had Agravaine make sure Uther was wearing it when I performed the spell. It twisted my healing magic into a weapon.” Merlin’s throat closes up as he speaks, grip on the reins tightening. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”
He can’t see Arthur’s reaction in the dark, can only see his terse nod before he urges his horse to go faster, pulling ahead.
They reach the cave soon after, the same orange dirt dusting the rocks around them.
“This is the place,” Arthur murmurs, creeping inside. He plucks a torch off the wall, using it to guide them through the dark tunnels. Merlin walks as close behind him as he dares, casting his gaze about looking for any tunnels branching off from the one they’re in. They step out into a wider area, the ceiling now tall enough for them to straighten up fully.
With a shout, a man leaps out from behind a rock at Arthur, sword clanging against the torch. Merlin’s eyes flash gold as he effortlessly tosses the man backwards, his head cracking hard against the rocks before he slides to the ground. Dead. Arthur whips around to look at him, eyes wide with an emotion Merlin can’t identify.
“We should split up.” Merlin says, avoiding Arthur’s gaze. Arthur nods, looking between the two tunnels and choosing the one on his right.
“Arthur,” Merlin starts, pausing as he makes his way into the tunnel to their left. “If you find him, don’t wait for me.”
It feels unnecessary -- why would Arthur wait for him anyway? He betrayed him. A series of emotions cross his King’s face before settling into a scowl.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. I told you already,” He swallows, and meets Merlin’s eyes. “I don’t want to lose another friend.”
A knot forms in Merlin’s throat, but by the time he opens his mouth to speak Arthur has disappeared into the tunnel. He takes a moment to compose himself, and then does the same. Dirt and rocks crunch beneath his feet as he walks, the tunnels getting ever darker as he winds his way further into the mine. A light flickers at the end of the tunnel -- a torch. His heart races, and he quickly ducks into a crevice in the tunnel wall. A bald man wearing purple robes walks by, torch in hand. Merlin doesn’t recognize him, but he feels the way his magic reacts to his presence, coiling tight in Merlin’s chest as though preparing for an attack. The man stops, feet mere inches from Merlin’s face, and Merlin wonders briefly if this is where he dies. After a moment, the man moves on, and Merlin scrambles from his hiding place. The tunnel ahead is dark without the man’s torch, but he forges on regardless. He has to find Gaius.
A little farther, and the rocky walls of the cave open up, stretching high above his head. He looks around briefly, not paying much attention at all once he realizes Gaius isn’t in here. He turns back the way he came and finds himself flying backwards, landing on his back a few yards away. Morgana.
“You really are a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” She says, voice sending shivers up Merlin’s spine. Metal scrapes against metal as she unsheathes her dagger, advancing slowly toward him as he writhes in pain on the ground.
“When will you learn not to meddle with things you couldn’t possibly understand?” Merlin almost wants to laugh, but fear chokes him, robs him of his breath. Morgana’s eyes flash gold, and her dagger spins through the air toward him. He scrambles backward until he can go no farther, his back pressed against the craggy rock.
“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” Morgana continues, and Merlin meets her cold eyes with his own. “When there are so many different and painful ways for me to finally be rid of you?”
Merlin wonders if he deserves this, if this is the price he must pay for not helping Morgana so long ago. He wishes he could see Arthur one more time, tell him everything he’s hidden for so long. Wishes he could apologize.
“I don’t care what you do to me. I want to know what you’ve done to Gaius.” He demands, voice steadier than he expected, eyes flickering between Morgana and dagger aimed at his throat.
“Gaius had some information I needed -- the whereabouts of the sorcerer Emrys.” So that’s what this was about. Merlin almost wants to tell her the truth, to admit his well-kept secret for the second time that day.
“If he gave it to me willingly, his suffering would not be prolonged. But, if he did not…” Morgana’s face twists into a cruel smile.
“If you have harmed him--” Merlin starts, anger boiling in his stomach, all the fear from moments before burning away with the heat of his rage.
“Why are we discussing his fate when it’s time to decide yours?” Morgana taunts. “Not whether you’re going to die alone here in this godforsaken place. That’s going to happen anyway. But how? And precisely -- how painfully?”
Movement draws Merlin’s eyes behind Morgana, to the man from earlier. His face is an emotionless mask as he steps up beside Morgana, eyeing Merlin with calculating eyes. Morgana turns to face him.
“Alator.” She greets. “This is Merlin.” She juts her chin out at him, and the look of dawning realization on the man’s face is enough to let Merlin know that he knows.
“He’s just a serving boy, but he’s the most troublesome serving boy I’ve ever known.” Morgana continues, unaware of the newfound tension between Alator and Merlin. “I take it your time with Gaius was fruitful?”
Alator turns away from Merlin, calculating eyes shifting to Morgana.
“Gaius told me everything.” He says, and Merlin’s chest constricts, fear coiling in his stomach and urging him to run.
“So you know who Emrys is?” The thinly veiled fear mingles with the hope in Morgana’s voice, and Merlin almost feels sorry for her.
“Indeed I do.” Alator says, before walking forward and crouching in front of Merlin. Merlin tries to beg with his eyes, to plead with this stranger not to tell her. To let him hide a little longer.
“Not only do I know who Emrys is,” He says, eyes fixed on Merlin’s. “I know exactly where he is.”
Merlin’s breath quickens, fists clenching as he fights the urge to reach out and cover Alator’s mouth, as if that would stop the inevitable.
“Then tell me.” Morgana demands, no longer bothering to hide her desperation. Alator turns to look at her, eyes cold as ice.
“Never.” He stands and aims his staff at her, shouting a spell that sends her flying back into the rock. She slumps to the ground, unconscious, and Merlin scrambles to his feet, putting distance between himself and the man who saved him.
“Merlin, I am Alator of the Catha,” he says. “I am honored to be of service.”
“You have magic,” Merlin says, accusatory and loud in the cavernous room. Alator nods, and straightens.
“I understand the burden you carry. I have lived with it all my life. I have been shunned, persecuted, and sometimes even hunted in every corner of the five kingdoms.” Tears spring to Merlin’s eyes, drawn forth by the raw emotion in Alator’s voice. “I understand what that feels like. You’re not alone. From what Gaius told me, I do not have your great powers, Merlin. But I share your hopes.”
Merlin stares at Alator, wonder unfurling in his chest. His eyes catch movement behind the man, and he catches sight of Arthur standing in the doorway to the cavern, listening intently.
“For I, and others like me, have dreamt of the world you seek to build.” Alator continues. “And we would gladly give our lives to help you do it.”
He drops to one knee before Merlin, head bowed in reverence. Merlin hears Arthur’s soft gasp, but Alator doesn’t appear to notice.
“I don’t know what to say,” Merlin says, voice shaky with emotion. Alator lifts his head, a smile on his face.
“You could start with a thank you,” Arthur suggests, sending Alator jumping to his feet and whirling around to face him. He aims his staff at him, and Merlin lets out a pained noise.
“No! No, it’s okay, he’s--” A friend, he almost says. “he’s with me.” Merlin says instead, placing a hand on Alator’s shoulder. The man relaxes, resting his staff against the ground once more.
“Did you find Gaius?” Merlin asks, taking a step towards Arthur. He nods, jerking his head back towards the tunnel behind him.
“I hid him in a crevice back there. He’s alright, weak and shaken, but alright.” Relief floods Merlin’s system at Arthur’s words, and he nearly falls with the weight that’s been lifted from his shoulders. Alator steadies him with a hand on his shoulder, then looks pointedly at Morgana’s unconscious form lying on the ground a few feet away.
“You should leave before she wakes,” He says, and Merlin nods. Arthur’s eyes linger on his sister, hand twitching towards the sword at his waist, but he shakes his head as if to clear it and turns to the tunnel. Merlin turns to face Alator, biting at his lip before nodding his head respectfully.
“Thank you, Alator. Your actions will not be forgotten,” He says, holding out a hand. Alator grins, wide and proud, and firmly shakes Merlin’s hand.
“Until we meet again, Merlin.” he says. Merlin releases his hand and hurries down the tunnel after Arthur. He finds him crouched in the same crevice Merlin hid in earlier, arm around Gaius’s waist as he helps him back up to the path. Merlin reaches down, taking hold of Gaius’s hands and lifting him. He mumbles something, leaning heavily against Merlin, but is otherwise incoherent.
“If we hurry, we should make it back to Camelot by morning,” Arthur says, and Merlin nods. Together, they help Gaius out of the mine.
The gates of Camelot come into view just as the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon, illuminating the castle walls with golden morning light. It’s beautiful, and Merlin wishes he had more time to take it in. The knights greet them in the courtyard, helping Gaius off of Merlin’s horse and steadying him as he sways. Merlin slides off after him, and Elyan takes the reins of his and Arthur’s horses.
“I’ll take care of the horses, you focus on Gaius,” He says, giving Merlin a reassuring smile. Merlin nods wordlessly and leads the rest of them up to Gaius’s quarters.
“Lay him down on the bed,” He instructs, gathering water and a rag. He’d already given Gaius a brief once over and determined that none of his injuries were physical. The most they could do for him was make sure he was fed and hydrated, and let him rest. Once Gaius is situated and Merlin is caring for him, Arthur speaks.
“Gwaine, you stay here with Gaius and Merlin. If they need anything, give it to them.” He orders, and Gwaine nods. “Percival, Leon, come with me.”
“Do you mind my asking where we’re going, sire?” Leon asks, clearly reluctant to leave Gaius’s side. Arthur presses his lips together and looks away, steeling himself before he speaks.
“To arrest my uncle for treason.” He says, voice solid and sure, leaving no room for argument. The knights look at one another, eyes wide with shock, but they nod and file out of the room after Arthur without question.
A week goes by before Merlin sees Arthur again. Agravaine remains in the cells, and Merlin hears his shouting any time he gets too close -- demanding to be let out, to speak to Arthur. It makes Merlin’s blood boil, so he tries not to think about it.
Gaius makes a full recovery, and returns to his duties by the end of the week. Arthur visited him while he was still bedridden, though Gaius refuses to tell Merlin what transpired between them (much to his immense irritation). All Merlin wants to know is if he should be counting his days -- if his own execution is imminent, if he’ll be burned right alongside Arthur’s traitorous uncle.
For all his fretting, when the summons to Arthur’s chambers finally comes Merlin finds himself dragging his feet up the stairs and through the castle corridors. Will Arthur banish him? Has he decided to execute him after all? He passes the guards at the end of the corridor. Only a few steps farther and he’ll have reached Arthur’s chambers. He stares at the heavy wooden doors before him, swallowing before raising a shaky hand to knock.
“Come in,” Arthur calls, and Merlin pushes through the door, taking one final deep breath before facing his King.
“You summoned me, my lord?” He says, the picture of an obedient servant. Arthur stands at the window behind his desk, highlighted by the setting sun. He looks godly, and Merlin resists the sudden urge to drop to his knees, to pledge his undying loyalty to this man. He turns, then, ice blue eyes meeting Merlin’s. His expression reveals nothing, stony and unyielding as he gestures to a chair pulled in front of his desk.
“Have a seat,” he says, taking his own seat. Merlin walks across the room with jerky movements, as if being yanked by a string. He finally sits in the chair across from Arthur, poised on the very edge of it in case he needs to make a speedy escape. Arthur stares at him for a long moment, studying him, and Merlin squirms under his studious gaze.
“Did you need something, sire?” He asks, unable to help himself. Arthur huffs a laugh, his emotionless mask falling as he drops his chin to his chest.
“Will you ever change, Merlin?” He asks, looking back up at his servant. The easy fondness in Arthur’s voice relaxes Merlin a bit, and he allows himself to relax against his chair.
“Probably not,” He replies, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Arthur smiles, and silence falls between them once more.
“That man, in the tunnels. Who was he?” Arthur finally asks.
“He told me his name was Alator. He’s a Catha, a priest of the Old Religion.” Merlin explains, fiddling with the hem of his tunic. Arthur nods.
“What was he talking about? The stuff about the,” he waves his hands awkwardly. “The world you seek to build. What did he mean?”
Merlin sucks in a breath, looking away from Arthur and training his eyes on the wardrobe instead.
“It’s a prophecy,” He starts, glancing nervously back at Arthur. “A great sorcerer named Emrys is to help the Once and Future King return magic to Camelot and unite the five kingdoms. Together, they will bring about the time of Albion.”
Arthur stares at him, gesturing for him to keep going. Merlin takes another deep breath.
“To the druids, I am known by another name -- Emrys. And you--” he looks back at Arthur, pushing past the fear knotted up in his chest. “You are the Once and Future King.”
Arthur sits back in his chair, letting out a breath and staring at Merlin with something akin to wonder in his eyes.
“Merlin,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Merlin barks out a surprised laugh, expression one of astonishment.
“Arthur, when I told you I had magic you barely kept yourself from running me through. How was I supposed to tell you that not only do I have magic, but I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth? That our destinies are intertwined, and that you, the son of Uther Pendragon, are destined to bring magic back to these lands?”
“I would never kill you,” Arthur says, and Merlin really thinks he missed the point. “I couldn’t, you -- Merlin, you have to know that.”
Merlin looks away, biting back tears. He shakes his head.
“I didn’t. How could I?” His voice shakes, and Arthur lets out a broken noise, nearly knocking his chair to the ground in his haste to round the table and tug Merlin up into his arms. Merlin melts into the embrace, clinging desperately to the back of Arthur’s tunic.
“I wanted to tell you, Arthur, but I was so scared,” He chokes out, voice muffled in Arthur’s shoulder. “I was so afraid you would have me executed, or worse banished, and I -- I couldn’t -- I need to be here. I need to be by your side.”
“You are. You will be.” Arthur reassures him, one hand running up and down Merlin’s back as the other slides into the hair at the back of his head, holding him close. “As if I could ever lose you.”
Another sob rips from Merlin’s throat, and Arthur walks them back until they collapse on the side of his bed.
“I’m so sorry, Merlin, that I ever made you feel this way. That you -- that you felt that you couldn’t trust me with this,” Arthur says, hold on Merlin tightening. “I only hope that you can forgive me.”
Merlin laughs, a startled, wet sound.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mumbles, turning his head into Arthur’s neck as his sobs subside. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Arthur makes a face like he wants to argue, but Merlin continues before he can.
“Everything I am is for you, Arthur. I wouldn’t be mad even if you did kill me.” Merlin pulls away, looking into Arthur’s eyes so that he can see the honesty in his gaze. “I love you, Arthur. Nothing could ever change that.”
Arthur stares at him, awestruck and speechless, before surging forward and slotting his lips against Merlin’s. The kiss is sloppy, and their noses knock against one another painfully, but neither seems to care. They grab at each other desperately, as though trying to get closer, to crawl inside the other’s skin and make a home there. When they finally break apart, Arthur leans his forehead against Merlin’s, panting into the space between them.
“I love you too,” He breathes, and Merlin could cry all over again. Instead, he laughs, bright and happy, the force of his smile pressing his eyes into half-moons. Arthur smiles too, darting forward to press another kiss to Merlin’s lips.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asks, and Merlin nods.
“Do you even have to ask?” He teases, and Arthur kisses him again, as though unable to help himself.
They dress for bed in relative silence, Merlin helping Arthur undress as he always does (though with more lingering touches and kisses pressed against Arthur’s skin). Arthur pulls an old nightshirt from the back of his wardrobe and offers it to Merlin, cheeks pink as he does. Merlin smiles, fond and amused, and changes out of his everyday clothes, acutely aware of Arthur’s eyes tracking his movements.
When they finally fall into bed beside each other, Merlin snuffs the candles out with his magic, eyes flashing gold in the sudden darkness. Arthur gasps, and Merlin tenses.
“No, no,” Arthur soothes, running a hand down Merlin’s arm. “It’s just -- you’re so beautiful. Your eyes -- they’re beautiful.”
Merlin flushes, ducking his head into the crook of Arthur’s neck and earning a soft chuckle.
“Go to sleep, Arthur,” Merlin chastises, wrapping his skinny arms around Arthur’s torso and tangling their legs together beneath the blanket.
“Goodnight, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the man’s forehead.
“Goodnight,” Merlin returns, a gentle smile gracing his face. Even if there are still things Arthur doesn’t know, still things that need to be dealt with, inside the walls of Arthur’s chambers there is nothing but them. Merlin falls asleep with his head pillowed on Arthur’s shoulder, and it’s the best sleep he’s had in years.
By jailb1rd on ao3