Archive of Our Own ^beta

“All these years, and you still have no skill for stealth,” Arthur teased. He rolled his eyes at Merlin, who was riding beside him along the forest path.

Merlin scowled, pulling his jacket tighter around his body. “All these years, and I don’t know why you insist on dragging me hunting.”

A pang of guilt went through Arthur as his gaze swept over Merlin. He didn’t miss the faint shivers wracking Merlin’s shoulders or the slight downturn to his lips. With one hand on the reins, he guided his horse closer to Merlin’s, the other hand jerking loose the clasp of his cloak.

“You know it’s not just about the hunting.” Arthur tugged his cloak off and tossed it over Merlin.

The cloak fluttered over the back of Merlin’s horse and would have slid to the ground if Merlin hadn’t grabbed a fistful of the fabric just in time. Merlin’s frown melted into a fond smile as he wrapped the cloak around himself.

“Thanks,” Merlin murmured, brushing a light touch over Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur caught Merlin’s hand, only untangling their fingers when his horse veered back to the left side of the path to avoid a collision. “You can say no, you know. About hunting,” Arthur said, casting a sidelong glance at Merlin and trying not to look too put out.

Merlin laughed lightly and shook his head. “I know,” he admitted. “But like you said, it’s not just about the hunting. We have so many responsibilities these days, I can deal with the odd hunting trip if it means we can have a whole day to ourselves.”

Merlin’s eyes were soft, if a little weary, when Arthur met his gaze again.

A scream sounded in the distance.

Arthur’s head whipped around, scanning the forest. “Did you hear that?”

Merlin peered around, squinting through the foliage. “Maybe it was just a bird?”

The scream rang out again. A woman’s voice.

“Probably not a bird,” Merlin conceded with a wince.

Arthur spurred his horse toward the noise, and Merlin dug his heels into his horse’s sides to keep up. With his magic, Merlin spread his senses through the forest until he encountered a bundle of negative energy, just beyond the outskirts.

“There,” he said, jabbing a finger to their left.

Arthur gave a tense nod and urged his horse faster.

They burst out of the forest to find a cluster of people just outside a small village. An old woman was tied to a pyre, villagers surrounding her. One man was brandishing a torch.

Arthur leaped off his horse and ran for the gathering, Merlin at his heels. The crowd parted for them. In front of the pyre, Arthur drew himself to his full height and held up a hand to halt the proceedings. “Let the woman go.”

“This woman has been sentenced to death. It does not concern you,” the man with the torch said. He spared them barely a glance, waving an impatient hand in their direction.

“I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, and your village is in my lands.”

The man did a double take but did not move to obey. “Her sorcery has brought sickness and suffering to this village.”

Merlin burst forward. “Magic is no longer outlawed in Camelot, this woman has committed no crime!”

The man with the torch sneered at Merlin and jabbed the torch at him, forcing Merlin to step back to avoid the flames. Arthur planted himself in front of Merlin, his sword leveled at the man’s chest. “Leave my consort out of this.”

The man with the torch faltered and took a half step back. His eyes darted between Arthur and Merlin. “Your father would have shown her no mercy.”

Arthur bit back a snarl. “I am not my father. Now cut her down.”

The man stared at Arthur, then shook his head and moved toward the pyre again. “I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.”

Arthur’s sword flashed upward, the tip kissing the man’s throat.

“I said cut her down.”

--

Back in the forest, Merlin tended to the old woman. She was laid on a bedroll that they had made as comfortable as they could.

“I lifted the ban on magic two years ago, and yet there are still sorcerers being burned at the stake,” Arthur muttered, pacing beside them, running angry fingers through his hair.

“The firewood, Arthur.” Merlin cast a pointed glance at the pile of wood that Arthur had haphazardly dropped to the ground.

Arthur grunted, kneeling to arrange the sticks in a pile. Merlin waved a hand and a fire crackled to life.

“These things take time, Arthur. Especially in small villages far from the citadel, people are hesitant to trust sorcery. The Great Purge and the fear that was drilled into the people is not easily forgotten.”

Arthur scrubbed weary hands over his face, then cast a concerned glance at the unconscious old woman. “Is there anything more you can do for her?”

“She won’t make it through the night.” Merlin laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice heavy with sorrow.

Arthur dropped to one knee on the woman’s other side. “Make her as comfortable as possible.”

Merlin nodded silently, dabbing at her forehead with a damp cloth.

The woman’s eyes snapped open, and she grabbed Arthur’s arm in an iron grip. “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely.

“You should try and get some rest,” Arthur said, patting her hand with his.

The woman shook her head. “My time has come. When you have lived as long as I, you no longer fear the journey to the next world.”

She held out a small bundle of cloth. “A gift for you. You showed kindness and compassion. Those are the qualities of a true king.”

When Arthur did nothing more than stare at the bundle, she gestured to it and whispered, “Open it.”

Arthur accepted it and gingerly unwrapped the cloth to find a small horn within. “It’s beautiful,” he said, nodding gratefully.

“It has the power to summon the spirits of the dead,” the woman croaked.

Merlin and Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. Before they had the chance to ask more, the woman’s breathing quickly became labored and then stopped altogether.

--

Upon their return to Camelot, Merlin and Arthur immediately made for Gaius’s chambers.

Arthur handed the horn to Gaius, fingering the delicate detailing as he passed it over. “What is it, Gaius?”

Gaius stared at the horn, turning it over in his hands, his touch reverent. “The Horn of Cathbhadh. When Uther attacked the Isle of the Blessed, the Horn of Cathbhadh was smuggled to safety before the temple fell. It hasn’t been heard of since.”

“The old woman said it could be used to open a door to the spirit world,” Arthur said, shifting from foot to foot uneasily.

“I have seen it with my own eyes. Long before the time of the Great Purge, I took part in such ceremonies. Each year at Beltane, the High Priestesses would gather at the Great Stones of Nemeton and summon the spirits of their ancestors. It holds powerful magic.”

Gaius returned the horn to Arthur and warned, “You must keep it safe.”

--

Late at night, Arthur returned to his chambers, expecting Merlin to already be asleep. He was surprised to find the room still lit with candlelight.

“You’re up late,” Arthur murmured.

Merlin rose from the bed and padded over to Arthur to help him remove his chainmail and clothing. “It’s the anniversary of your coronation and your father’s death. I didn’t want you to be alone,” Merlin said softly. “You left the feast to visit your father’s tomb, didn’t you?”

Arthur nodded wearily, lifting his arms to let Merlin pull the chainmail over his head.

“How are you feeling?” Merlin asked. His hands were gentle and soothing as they peeled the tunic and breeches away from Arthur’s skin. Arthur reached for his sleeping breeches that were draped over the chair beside them. He pulled them on gratefully as Merlin tossed his day clothes into the pile of laundry.

“It’s been three years already, but it never gets easier.” He gestured to the chainmail Merlin had piled on the table and said, “Leave it, George will take care of it tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded, a sympathetic look on his face as he allowed Arthur to draw him toward the bed. “I don’t think it ever gets easier. He was your father, and you loved him.”

“Yes,” Arthur said, climbing into bed and staring up at the canopy. Merlin followed suit, laying down facing him, one hand laced with Arthur’s. “Isn’t this hard for you?” Arthur asked, turning his head to search Merlin’s face.

“For me?”

“My father. He was the reason you feared for your life every day you lived here during his reign. He caused so much pain for you and your kin. And even when he died, you spent an entire long night on the cold floor, just waiting. He deserves no kindness from you, Merlin.”

Merlin’s lips curled into a melancholy smile. He dropped his gaze to their joined hands, thumb rubbing over the back of Arthur’s hand.

“That may be true, but you do. Everything I did was for you. I waited outside the throne room that night for you. And even now, no matter my personal feelings for him, he was your father, and for that reason alone, I am here for you.”

Arthur lifted their joined hands to his lips to press a kiss to Merlin’s knuckles. “Sometimes I wish I could tell him how wrong he was to mistrust magic so much. Magic is the reason I have you, and you are my greatest gift.”

With a whispered word, Merlin extinguished the candles. Arthur watched the gold blaze in Merlin’s eyes, mesmerized even after the glow of magic receded, leaving only soft blue eyes filled with love, lit with a light entirely separate from magic. Merlin wriggled closer to wrap Arthur in his arms. Arthur leaned into Merlin, his presence dulling the wave of grief that always felt so insurmountable this time of year. With Merlin’s warmth surrounding him, Arthur let himself drift.

It wasn’t until the next morning, at breakfast, that Arthur said something Merlin could not have expected to hear.

“I would like to take another trip today.”

“Another trip? Where to this time?” Merlin regarded Arthur with a curious gaze from across the table, munching on a slice of bread.

“The great Stones of Nemeton,” Arthur said, affecting a nonchalant air, resolutely keeping his eyes on his food.

Merlin froze with a piece of cheese halfway to his mouth. “You’re going to use it?”

Arthur chanced a glance at Merlin’s face, finding apprehension and resignation written all over it. “This will be the only chance I’ll have to see my father again. I can’t let it pass, Merlin.”

“This is powerful magic, Arthur,” Merlin warned. “This is magic we don’t even understand."

"I know," Arthur whispered. “But my father was taken from me before his time. There isn’t a day that passes when I don’t think of the things I wished I’d said to him. If you were given the same chance, to see your father, talk to him again, wouldn’t you do the same?”

Merlin was silent for a long time, first studying Arthur, then his breakfast, then the activity outside the window. Eventually, he heaved a sigh and nodded.

--

Merlin and Arthur traveled alone, without a word to anyone, to the Stones of Nemeton.

Arthur swung off his horse and handed the reins to Merlin, fumbling at his side for the horn.

“Be careful, Arthur.” Merlin’s brows knitted together in worry.

Arthur stepped close, grasped Merlin’s chin gently in one hand, and brushed his lips across Merlin’s in a gentle caress. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Merlin bit his lip and nodded wordlessly. He stepped back, fidgeting with the reins as Arthur walked into the circle of stones and blew the horn.

A bright light engulfed Arthur, and Merlin could do nothing but watch Arthur disappear into it.

--

Arthur ventured forward into the blinding light, searching desperately for any hint of movement ahead.

His heart leaped into his throat as a silhouette began to emerge, the outline at first hazy, then clearer as it approached.

“Father,” Arthur said, emotion choking his voice.

“Arthur.” Uther’s voice washed over Arthur, a long-forgotten sound that knocked the breath from his chest.

“I thought I’d never see you again. There isn’t a day that passes when I don’t think of you.” Arthur had to fight to keep his voice even.

A ghost of a smile passed over Uther’s face. “And I, you.”

“There are times when I feel so alone, I wish more than anything that you were by my side.” Arthur dug his nails into his palms, wanting desperately to reach out to Uther, to affirm that he was there.

Uther looked back at him with a sad expression. “If I were at your side, I fear you would not like all that I have to say.”

Arthur reeled back as if he’d been slapped. “What do you mean?”

“Many of the decisions you’ve made since you’ve become King go against all that I taught you.”

“I have done what I believed to be right,” Arthur protested, feeling Uther’s words as if they were physical blows.

“You ignored all I had built, all our ancient laws. You have allowed magic to roam free once again in Camelot,” Uther spat.

Arthur straightened, pressing his palms to his thighs to disguise their trembling. “Magic is not the evil you believed it to be, father.”

“You have been blinded. Enchanted,” Uther said, eyes glittering with disbelief.

“I am under no spell, father.” Arthur injected every ounce of conviction he could into his words. He would not allow his father to undermine the life he had built.

“There are more ways than magic to enchant a man,” Uther sneered. “That consort of yours, the sorcerer I appointed your manservant. It is I who allowed this to happen to you.”

“Merlin has saved my life time and time again. If nothing else, he is a living, breathing reason to believe in the good of magic,” Arthur said incredulously.

“Good in magic,” Uther despaired. “Do you hear yourself? He has led you down this path.”

“The path I walk is my own. I am proud to walk it with Merlin at my side.” Arthur held his head high, unflinchingly meeting his father’s gaze.

“He questions your judgment. He makes you look weak. You are a king who allows a sorcerer to pull the strings of your own kingdom.”

“Listening to others is a sign of strength, not weakness. I am not arrogant enough to believe mine is the only opinion that matters. That does not make me a puppet,” Arthur shot back.

“Is it your sorcerer who has fed you those lies? How do you expect anyone to fear a king who does not know his own mind?”

“His name is Merlin. I don’t want my people to respect me because they fear me.”

“Then they won’t respect you at all. Your marriage should have served to form an alliance with another kingdom. Not only did you fail to accomplish that, you chose to marry a man, a sorcerer. You chose to turn your back on our ideals,” Uther snarled.

“I married for love. I love Merlin. More than you will ever know,” Arthur choked out.

“There are certain things that are more important than love. It is your duty to strengthen and protect the kingdom. You have failed.” Uther’s words rang with a crushing finality inside Arthur’s head.

“I have always strived to make you proud.”

“How can I be proud of a son who ignores everything I taught him? Who is destroying my legacy?”

“I’ve brought peace to the kingdom,” Arthur whispered, his voice breaking.

“At what price? Peace cannot last. If you are not strong, the kingdom will fall. You must go now.” Uther waved a hand as if to dismiss Arthur.

Arthur felt like a small child being scolded by his father for the first time in years. “I need more time,” he pleaded. “There’s still so much I wish to say.”

“If you stay, you will be forever trapped in the world of the dead. You must go now. Go,” Uther ordered, every inch the king he was in life.

“This can’t be the last time I’ll ever see you!”

“Think about everything that I have said to you. It isn’t too late. Now go.”

Arthur struggled against the wave of grief that threatened to overpower him. Left with no other choice, he turned away from Uther, putting one foot in front of the other to return to his world.

“I will always love you, Arthur,” came Uther’s emotion-laden voice from behind him.

Arthur’s heart thumped painfully in his ribcage. The young boy in him that would always crave his father’s love yearned for the father that accompanied that soft voice.

He turned his head, just in time to catch a final glimpse of his father gazing back at him before the bright light swallowed him.

When Arthur turned back around, he was at the Stones of Nemeton again. Blinking back unshed tears, Arthur walked back towards Merlin, who was practically vibrating with anxiety.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, the smile pasted on his face doing a poor job of hiding his concern.

Arthur didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. The only response he could offer was a squeeze of Merlin’s hand when he passed the reins to Arthur. They rode for Camelot in silence. Arthur stared straight ahead, ignoring the worried glances Merlin sent in his direction until the sky began to darken.

“We should rest for the night,” Arthur said quietly and led them to a small clearing in the woods.

“All right,” Merlin murmured. They busied themselves setting up camp – Arthur collecting firewood and settling the horses, and Merlin setting up their bedrolls and rummaging for food in their packs.

Before long, the fire was crackling and handfuls of dried meat, cheese, and bread were spread on a small blanket in front of a log in the clearing. Arthur sat on the log, staring despondently into the flickering flames. Merlin approached slowly, and sat down beside Arthur, within reach but not touching.

Arthur was the one to close the small distance, pressing their legs together all down one side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Merlin asked softly.

“It seems my father doesn’t approve of the way I’ve chosen to rule his kingdom,” Arthur said flatly.

Merlin nudged his knee against Arthur’s. “You mean your kingdom.”

“He is furious at me for lifting the ban on magic.” A corner of Arthur’s lips lifted in a bitter smile. “For marrying you.”

Merlin clasped his hands together in his lap and stared down at them. His voice was strained on his next words. “It’s a position I never wanted to put you in.”

A fierce protectiveness rose within Arthur. His father was not going to ruin this. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand, making Merlin jump and look at him with wide eyes. “I don’t regret any of it,” Arthur vowed. “Not you, not the magic, none of it. Not ever.”

The guilt in Merlin’s face melted away, replaced with a fond exasperation that Arthur saw so often. He lifted Arthur’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it, then returned it to his lap, their fingers still entwined. “I know, Arthur. But what your father said still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Arthur nodded, his eyes sliding away to stare off into the distance. “He said I’ve been weak. That I’ve failed to strengthen and protect the kingdom. What if he’s right?”

Merlin knelt in front of him, one hand still clasped in Arthur’s, the other coming to rest on Arthur’s cheek to tilt his face down to look Merlin in the eyes.

“Listen to me, Arthur,” Merlin said, eyes burning with such conviction that stunned Arthur into silence. “Your father is wrong. You have always done what you believe to be right, and you are the greatest king Camelot will ever know. You are far from weak, and you have brought peace to the kingdom.”

“I told him that,” Arthur said, smiling faintly. Then his smile dropped. “He said I’ve destroyed his legacy.”

Merlin scoffed. “Arthur, you are his legacy. Not his laws, not the decisions he would have made in your place, and certainly not the ban on magic. And he should be immensely proud of the man and king you have become. If he cannot see that, he is the one destroying his own legacy.”

Arthur gazed at Merlin for long moments, drowning in the devotion and ferocity swirling in the blue of his eyes. “You have such endless faith in me, Merlin. Sometimes I fear that I am not the man you see, and one day, you will realize that and leave me too.”

“Never,” Merlin promised, brushing a thumb across Arthur’s cheek. “You are, I know you are. But no matter what you do, I will never leave you, Arthur.”

“You make me want to be that man. For you, if for nothing else,” Arthur murmured, turning his face to press a kiss to Merlin’s palm.

--

The next day, Merlin was sitting beside Arthur at a meeting of the round table when he felt it – a prickle at the back of his neck, a sign that something was not quite right.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the fog in his brain from the report Leon was droning on about.

“We covered the area from Paulet down to Meldreth. This includes thirty troops at Bawtry, fifteen at Tallen, ten at Chime, nine at Broom – “

Before Merlin could fully gather his thoughts, the doors to the hall burst open, crashing with a great bang into the walls on either side.

All members around the table jumped, heads turning as one to stare into the empty doorway. After a few beats, it became clear no one was going to burst in. Arthur exchanged a tense glance with Merlin, then turned to Leon and nodded at him to continue.

“ – Eleven at Bowell – “

The chandelier above the round table gave a loud creak, then with a metallic clang, the chain snapped, and the chandelier came crashing down upon the center of the round table.

Merlin shoved his chair back, half risen into a standing position, one hand outstretched toward the chandelier in preparation for attack. The knights startled, some leaping to their feet, some flailing back in their chairs, others simply staring in bewilderment at the center of the table.

Merlin cast a glance at Arthur, who was staring at the chandelier with trepidation, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Warily, Merlin sank back down in his seat and nudged Arthur’s knee with his own under the table.

Arthur snapped out of his reverie and swept a glance around the table. “Meeting is adjourned for today. We shall reconvene tomorrow.”

Merlin waited for everyone to file out, then caught Arthur’s arm as he tried to stand. “Arthur, something doesn’t feel right.”

Arthur shot Merlin a questioning look. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. “But I felt something before those doors flew open.” He shot a wary look at the now shut set of doors to the hall.

Arthur still looked unsure, but kept silent and nodded for Merlin to continue.

“It was like the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. But with my magic. I can’t say what it was, but I don’t like it.”

Arthur twisted his arm out of Merlin’s grip to instead catch Merlin’s hand in his own, rubbing soothingly at the back of it. “Look into it then,” Arthur encouraged. He flashed Merlin a teasing smile. “I sincerely hope it’s nothing, this isn’t the first time you’ve had a ‘funny feeling’.”

When Merlin’s drawn expression didn’t change, Arthur’s smile slipped off his face. He gave Merlin’s fingers a comforting squeeze. “I believe you,” Arthur reassured. “Not that you need my permission, but you’re excused from the rest of the morning’s meetings. Go speak to Gaius.”

Merlin startled. “How did you know I was going to go to Gaius?”

Arthur shot Merlin an amused smile. “Where else would you go?”

“I am the Court Sorcerer, I’ll have you know that I have many resources at my disposal,” Merlin sniffed, crossing his arms and trying not to pout.

Arthur snorted a laugh. “Yes, yes, the first of which is our esteemed Court Physician, who you’ve gone running to for advice since the first day you set foot in Camelot.”

Then Merlin did pout, muttering, “I was going to do my own research after that.”

“I know you were,” Arthur said, grinning as he leaned in to press a kiss to Merlin’s cheek.

The corners of Merlin’s lips quirked up despite his best efforts, and he allowed Arthur to wrap a hand around his arm and tug him to his feet.

“Now, go, Court Sorcerer,” Arthur said, giving Merlin a gentle nudge toward the door. “I’ll see you in our chambers for lunch.”

Merlin swooped in to drop a kiss on Arthur’s lips, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Arthur’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He felt Arthur reaching for him, felt Arthur’s fingers lighting on Merlin’s side, but he danced out of the way, shooting Arthur a cheeky smile before darting out the doors.

As Merlin strode down the corridors toward Gaius’s workshop, he felt that odd prickling feeling on the back of his neck again. Suspicious, Merlin glanced around, hoping to find anything out of the ordinary. A slight breeze brushed past him, the rustle of his robes the only indication that Merlin wasn’t imagining it. An ominous feeling settled in his chest, spurring Merlin to pick up the pace the rest of the way to see Gaius.

Merlin burst into the physician’s workshop, without bothering to knock as usual. “Gaius!”

Gaius held up a hand. Merlin practically vibrated with tension while he waited for Gaius to finish bandaging his patient. When he saw who the patient was, Merlin covered the distance between them in two quick strides. “Percival? Are you all right?”

Percival grimaced up at Merlin. “I am now, thanks to Gaius.”

“What happened?”

Percival looked puzzled. “It was strange, I was in the armory when there was a gust of wind, and then a shield fell to the floor. When I went to investigate, an axe fell off the wall as well, right into my arm.” He gestured to his newly bandaged wound.

“You’re lucky you weren’t more severely injured,” Gaius said, eyebrows climbing up his forehead. “I’m surprised that a falling axe would cause such a deep wound.”

“Not as surprised as I was,” Percival responded, bending and unbending his arm gingerly to test its mobility. “It’s strange though. Just before it happened, I sensed something, like there was someone there watching me. I'm sure it was just my mind playing tricks on me.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. He bit his lip to avoid bursting out with anything that would rouse unnecessary concern.

Gaius shot Merlin a searching look, then turned back to Percival. “Apply a second poultice in the morning and no training.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” Percival said, giving Gaius a grateful smile.

Once Percival was out the door, and Merlin was quietly helping tidy up, Gaius turned to Merlin. “Is there something wrong, Merlin?” When Merlin didn’t meet Gaius’s eyes, Gaius pressed again. “Merlin, I get the distinct impression there’s something you are not telling me.”

“Why would you say that?” Merlin hedged, still avoiding Gaius’s gaze by keeping his eyes trained on a roll of bandages that he was slowly winding up.

“Because you burst in here as if the castle was on fire, and now you are startlingly quiet.”

Merlin sighed and flopped down into a chair. He peered up at Gaius nervously. “We went to the Stones of Nemeton.”

“Merlin, I warned you of the dangers!”

Merlin winced. “I tried to stop him! He was insistent.”

Gaius sighed heavily and sank into a chair opposite Merlin. “What is it, Merlin?”

“Today, in the Council Chambers, that huge chandelier fell from the ceiling. Just before it happened, the doors to the hall burst open on their own, with no one on the other side. In the Council Chambers and afterward, when I was on my way here, I could sense something. It was like Percival said – a presence of some kind.”

“In the days of the Old Religion, the priestesses trained for years before entering into the spirit world. It was fraught with danger,” Gaius scolded. “There was one thing they were schooled never to do. As the Veil closed, they were never to look back at the spirit.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “What happened if they did?”

“They’d release the spirit into this world.”

Merlin shot to his feet, horror setting in. “Arthur must have looked back,” he whispered, then took off for his and Arthur’s chambers, fear quickening his step.

--

Merlin burst through the doors to find Arthur sitting at the table, waiting for him to arrive.

“Merlin, there you are,” Arthur said, waving him over. “Not exactly on time, but you just missed George, and I’ve only just sat down, so I suppose I’ll take it.”

“Arthur.”

At Merlin’s tone, Arthur’s hand froze in the middle of lifting his goblet to his lips. Slowly, he set it back down. “Merlin.”

Merlin took his seat across from Arthur, fidgeting under the intent gaze Arthur fixed on him.

“Gaius said something,” Arthur said, voice far too certain for someone who had no idea what Merlin found out.

Merlin nodded. “At the Stones of Nemeton. I think that you may have released your father’s spirit.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in disbelief. He blinked at Merlin for a moment, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “And what makes you think that?”

Merlin took a deep breath, then said all in a rush, “Did you look back? As the Veil closed, did you look back at your father?”

The horrified look that flashed across Arthur’s face told Merlin all he needed to know.

“I may have glanced around for a second,” Arthur said feebly. There was a tremor in his hand as he reached for his wine goblet.

“Arthur,” Merlin said gently, reaching over the table to rest a hand over Arthur’s. “That… that unleashed Uther’s spirit. There have been strange things happening since then. Like the chandelier falling onto the round table.”

“Yes, because the chain broke,” Arthur tried to protest.

Merlin hesitated, then went on. “When I went to see Gaius, Percival was there. An axe fell on him in the armory.”

“Is he all right?” Alarm flashed across Arthur’s face.

“He’s fine,” Merlin quickly reassured. “Gaius bandaged him up and he will make a full recovery. But it wasn’t an accident. He even said that he sensed a presence with him.” After a beat, Merlin added, “As did I, on my way to Gaius’s chambers.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that my father’s spirit is responsible for these things?” Arthur demanded, hand curling into a fist under Merlin’s palm.

“The round table represents the many things you’ve changed since you became king. You told me that Uther disapproved of what you’ve done. He’s angry with you, and that makes him dangerous.”

“I know my father. He wouldn’t do these things,” Arthur insisted, the stubborn set of his jaw enough to tell Merlin not to push it.

Merlin looked away, squeezing Arthur’s hand before drawing his own back to his side. “I think he would do anything to protect his legacy. Who knows what he is capable of?”

Arthur screwed his eyes shut, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He’s my father, Merlin. As a father, even he has his limits, I have to believe that.”

Merlin smiled sadly but nodded. “I’ll keep looking into it, shall I?”

Arthur gave a jerky nod in response. He made a vague gesture at the food laid out before them, and Merlin took that as his cue to pick up his fork. They sat and ate in uncharacteristic silence, both too lost in their thoughts to hold a conversation.

Halfway through the meal, Arthur extended his hand across the table, palm up. Merlin hid a smile, but placed his hand in Arthur’s, accepting the wordless apology. Arthur didn’t let go for the rest of the meal, the slightly too tight grip of his fingers letting Merlin know that Arthur was far more unsettled than he was willing to express verbally.

After George returned and took their plates back to the kitchens, Merlin and Arthur found themselves alone again. Merlin rested his hands on either side of Arthur’s arms, rubbing up and down soothingly.

“I’ll use the afternoon to do some research in my books. If you’ll excuse me from our meetings again.” His voice took on a teasing tone, hoping to draw Arthur out of his dark mood.

Arthur gave a hollow chuckle. He leaned in to rest his forehead against Merlin’s, his arms coming up to encircle Merlin’s waist and pull him close. Merlin relaxed into Arthur’s embrace, letting his eyes fall shut and wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck.

“I shall have to come up with a suitable punishment for you,” Arthur retorted weakly, trying for their usual banter. It didn’t quite hit the mark, but Merlin appreciated the effort all the same. “As my consort and Court Sorcerer, it’s awfully remiss of you to skip an entire day’s worth of duties.”

“I’m certain you’ll think of something, sire,” Merlin teased. He pressed his lips to Arthur’s ear and dropped his voice low. “Perhaps you can show me tonight. In bed.”

Arthur shivered, and his arms tightened around Merlin’s waist. “Minx,” Arthur breathed.

“You love it,” Merlin shot back with a smirk, nipping at Arthur’s ear.

A tiny bitten back whimper escaped Arthur’s lips. He groaned, “Gods help me, but I do.”

Then Arthur’s hands were everywhere all at once, stroking up Merlin’s back, cupping his arse, then sliding into his hair and crushing their lips together. Merlin moaned into Arthur’s mouth, knees gone weak from the desire that crashed over him. As quickly as it started, Arthur was gone, smirking at Merlin from several steps away as he straightened his clothes.

Merlin stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the back of a chair to avoid tripping over his own feet. “What – “

“You’re not the only one who can be a tease,” Arthur said, heading for the door, a self-satisfied smirk still plastered on his face.

Merlin caught him from behind with an arm looped around his waist before he could make it to the door, pressing his front all down Arthur’s back, relishing the thrill of triumph when Arthur’s step faltered and he stuttered to a stop. Merlin ran a hand down Arthur’s chest, trailing lower until he cupped the bulge of Arthur’s cock through his breeches.

Merlin grinned at Arthur’s sharp intake of breath. “I’m the one being teased, am I?”

“Merlin,” Arthur said through gritted teeth, valiantly trying to ignore Merlin’s hand running up and down his length, even as his cock jumped at the touch and hardened eagerly.

Merlin barely suppressed a laugh. “Yes, sire?”

“Did you want to get anything done today, or is your sole ambition to make me throw you into bed and fuck you until you beg for mercy?” Arthur growled.

Merlin shuddered, a moan spilling from his lips, hips rolling against Arthur’s backside. “Is that second one actually an option?”

“It’s going to be the only option if you don’t desist,” Arthur groaned. He leaned back into Merlin, tipping his head back against Merlin’s shoulder. Then, seeming to steel himself, he straightened and grabbed Merlin’s hand, pulling it firmly away. “As much as I would like nothing more, you know we’ll only be mad at ourselves tomorrow.”

Merlin sighed and dropped his forehead to rest on Arthur’s back. “I know,” he mumbled. “Would be nice though.”

“Would be,” Arthur echoed, heaving a sigh before extracting himself from Merlin’s arms.

They kept a careful distance, collecting themselves. Then Merlin gestured for Arthur to lead the way out of their chambers and said, “I’ll come find you once I find anything.”

--

Merlin spent most of the afternoon poring over his books, sequestered in his tower, trying to find anything that included more information on the Horn of Cathbhadh or the Stones of Nemeton. It was a frustratingly slow process, with Camelot still working to replenish their library of books on magic and Merlin’s lack of formal training.

It was after the tenth book that Merlin had flipped through and tossed aside that he felt that prickling again. Immediately, Merlin was on high alert, hand raised in front of him, magic gathering at his fingertips in anticipation.

There was a gust of wind again, more powerful than the one Merlin had felt in the corridor. Merlin spun in a circle, suspicious of anything and everything. “Uther,” Merlin called sharply. “I know it’s you, what do you want?”

In a flurry of motion, an entire shelf of Merlin’s books flew at him. Merlin waved a hand, and they all fell harmlessly to the floor at his feet.

It was a distraction, Merlin realized, as his feet were swept out from under him. His arms pinwheeled in the air as he fell, then he landed hard on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Wheezing, he struggled into a crouch, glancing around wildly to find anything he could direct his magic against.

Even now, after everything Uther had done, Merlin could not forget that Uther was Arthur’s father, that Arthur loved his father, no matter what else Uther had done. And to Merlin, Arthur’s heart would always be more precious than anything else in the world.

Merlin didn’t know if his magic could affect Uther’s spirit, but if it had been anyone else, Merlin would have tried by now, tried some all-encompassing spell that would fill the room and stand a chance at banishing Uther from the world of the living.

But it wasn’t anyone else, and Merlin could not bring himself to take Uther away from Arthur a second time.

Uther had no such qualms. He took advantage of Merlin’s hesitation to strike, sending a jug hurtling at Merlin’s head.

Merlin barely had a chance to register the object flying at him, then the jug shattered against the side of his head, and he toppled over, falling into darkness.

--

“Is Merlin not joining us again?” Gwaine asked, frowning at Merlin’s empty seat beside Arthur.

Arthur sighed. He’d been answering the same question all day from all directions. “He’s busy in his tower,” Arthur said shortly.

“Sure, I get that excuse for everyone else. But this is just us,” Gwaine said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He jerked his chin at the few members around the table consisting only of Arthur’s closest circle of advisors. “Merlin wouldn’t want to miss this.”

“Why don’t you go ask him then?” Arthur snapped.

Gwaine grinned and leaped to his feet. “Happy to, but you know you’re the only one Merlin listens to.”

Arthur snorted. “If you call what he does listening to me, I’m frightened to find out what you consider not listening to be.”

Gwaine rolled his eyes and gave a vague wave of his hand, heading for the door.

“I’ll follow shortly,” Arthur called to his retreating back.

Gwaine whistled as he wound his way through the corridors and up the steps to Merlin’s tower. As he drew closer to the top, he felt a strange sense of foreboding. Tense, Gwaine rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Merlin?” he called, giving one sharp knock on the door.

No answer came, but Gwaine could swear he heard a sound from within. Fear prickling at him, Gwaine rammed his shoulder into the door, falling into the room as the door flew open. To his horror, Gwaine found an unconscious Merlin in a heap on the ground, a sword rising off the rack on the wall and flying straight for him.

With a yell, Gwaine leaped into action, drawing his sword, lunging forward to deflect the blade before it could connect with Merlin’s prone form. The sword was knocked back, but halted in midair and reversed direction, swinging angrily back at Merlin as if it was held in a man’s hand. Gwaine had no time to wonder what was happening, to wonder why a magical blade appeared intent on hurting Merlin in his own tower. Gwaine planted himself in front of Merlin, batting the sword away again and again.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s worried voice carried up the tower steps.

“Arthur,” Gwaine yelled, beating the sword back with a vicious cut that knocked it halfway across the room.

“Is that a sword I hear?” Panicked footsteps thundered up the stairs.

Before Gwaine could respond, Arthur was in the doorway, scanning the room, his face a mask of fear. Arthur had his sword drawn in a heartbeat, rushing forward to put himself between Merlin and the invisible attacker.

The moment Arthur planted himself in front of Merlin, the sword clattered to the ground. Arthur and Gwaine stared at the sword for several moments, holding their breath as they waited for it to rise again.

It did not.

“Keep watch on that sword,” Arthur barked at Gwaine. Gwaine’s eyes didn’t leave the sword, but he gave one jerk of his head.

Arthur sheathed his sword and fell to his knees at Merlin’s side, hands shaking as he reached out to touch Merlin’s unmoving form. “Merlin?” he asked fearfully.

When Merlin didn’t stir, Arthur ran his hands over Merlin gently, searching for any obvious wounds. Only when he found none did Arthur let out a shaky breath.

“Guards!” he shouted at the open doorway. “Guards!”

There was a pounding of footsteps, then a guard appeared. “Sire?”

“Fetch Gaius. Now!”

--

“Will he be all right?”

Arthur helped Gaius up. “He will be fine once he wakes, sire,” Gaius said, relief evident in his voice. “He is lucky that all he suffered was a blow to the head. A bit of extra rest is all he will need.”

“Good,” Arthur said, heaving a sigh of relief. “Can I move him?”

“Please.”

Arthur wasted no time, dropping to one knee beside Merlin to gather him into his arms. Merlin’s head lolled against his arm, and Arthur cupped his cheek briefly, brushing a thumb across one cheekbone, hoping Merlin would open his eyes.

Merlin didn’t stir.

Arthur wrapped one arm securely around Merlin’s back and slotted the other behind his knees, lifting him into Arthur’s arms easily. Arthur picked his way carefully down the tower steps, taking care not to jostle Merlin too much, internally cursing the winding staircase as he barely avoided banging Merlin’s head into the stone walls.

Perhaps he should convince Merlin to move his workshop somewhere closer to the center of the castle.

Arthur felt like he could breathe again once he stepped back inside their chambers. Ever so gently, Arthur laid Merlin down on the bed, drawing the blankets over him and tucking him in.

Gaius followed Arthur in and set down a small vial on the bedside table. “A tonic for Merlin when he wakes,” Gaius explained. “He may not need it, but should he wake with a headache, this should help soothe it.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur murmured, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and picking up Merlin’s hand.

“Call for me as soon as he wakes, sire.”

Arthur nodded, not taking his eyes off Merlin as Gaius took his leave. Once the doors clicked shut, Arthur surged forward, clutching Merlin’s hand in both of his own, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s chest.

“Merlin,” he whispered desperately. “I’m sorry, I should never have let you out of my sight. Please wake up.”

Arthur stayed like that, murmuring the occasional tender promise and worried plea until he dozed off.

Arthur woke to the sensation of fingers in his hair. He nuzzled into the touch, then his head shot up at the throaty chuckle that came from above him.

“Merlin!”

Merlin smiled, fingers continuing to card through Arthur’s hair. “You saved me, didn’t you?”

A tendril of guilt wound its way around Arthur’s heart. He gripped Merlin’s hand tight enough to make Merlin wince. “You wouldn’t have needed saving if not for me.”

Merlin pushed himself into a sitting position and gestured for Arthur to come closer. Arthur scrambled up into bed beside Merlin, drawing Merlin close to his chest and folding his arms around him.

“It’s not your fault, Arthur. Anyone would have done the same,” Merlin said, stroking reassuring fingers down Arthur’s chest.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change anything. If Gwaine and I had been even a few seconds too late, you would’ve been dead.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said, pressing his palm firmly to Arthur’s chest. “We can’t focus on what ifs. I’m here, you’re here, and we’re both safe. That’s all that is important.”

“Yes,” Arthur murmured, unsure if he was agreeing with Merlin or trying to convince himself. “Why would my father do this? I’ve always known he could be cruel, but he knows how much I care about you.”

Merlin chose to ignore the question. “You’ve accepted that all this is your father’s doing?”

Arthur clutched Merlin closer to his chest, the image of him crumpled on the floor flashing through his mind’s eye. “I don’t exactly have another choice.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur laughed humorlessly. “For what?”

“That you have to go through this. I know how much you love your father.”

“I do,” Arthur sighed. “But a father who would do this… what sort of father is that?” Mentally, Arthur shoved away the feelings of betrayal, to be dealt with in the morning, he told himself.

“You need rest,” he told Merlin softly. “It’s late, I will summon Gaius to examine you in the morning.”

Merlin looked as if he wanted to protest, but instead pressed his lips together and nodded, allowing Arthur to pull him up so they could change into their sleeping clothes.

“How does your head feel? Gaius left a tonic in case you woke with a headache.”

Merlin rubbed the side of his head that was struck with the jug. “A bit sore,” he admitted. Merlin glanced around, squinting in the dim light, spotting the small vial on the bedside table. “Is this it?”

At Arthur’s nod, Merlin uncorked it and tossed the potion down his throat, wincing as he swallowed it down.

“Terrible,” he gasped, wrinkling his nose and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve.

Arthur gave a sympathetic hum, then instead of following Merlin into bed, headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Merlin asked curiously.

“To speak with the guards.”

Arthur opened the door and beckoned two guards inside. In hushed tones, he explained the concern of a potential magical attack on Merlin as they slept. He gave no details or explanation, but ordered them to stand guard as usual, inside the King’s chambers instead of outside. To his relief, the guards asked no questions, simply shot worried looks at Merlin and took their places just inside the doors, eyes alert and scanning the room.

“Arthur?”

Arthur crossed the room in a few quick strides to fall back into bed with Merlin. Merlin resisted when Arthur tried to maneuver him into a more comfortable position for Arthur to hold him.

Finally, Arthur sighed. “It’s for your protection,” he explained. “Neither of us will be awake if you are attacked again. I cannot take the chance that I will wake to find you… no longer with me.”

Merlin softened immediately, curling into Arthur’s side and burying his face in Arthur’s neck. “Dollophead,” he murmured into Arthur’s skin, then pressed a kiss to the same spot. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I will make certain of that,” Arthur vowed.

--

Arthur woke the next morning with a racing heart, terror coursing through him at what he might have missed in the night. The only thing that prevented him from bolting upright was the feel of Merlin’s warmth heavy beside him. Arthur took several deep breaths, the panic receding with each subsequent inhale. He opened his eyes and sought the gaze of one of the guards from across the room.

The guard gave him a single nod, reassuring Arthur that nothing had been amiss in the night.

Merlin began to stir beside him, so he mouthed an order to the guard to fetch Gaius.

Gaius appeared not long after Merlin fully woke, disapproving eyebrow arched at them when he learned that Merlin had awoken the night before, but he had not been informed. After an examination where Merlin grumbled at being poked and prodded, Gaius announced that Merlin would be just fine within the week, provided he did not overextend himself.

“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur said, fussing over Merlin’s blankets and batting away his attempt to wave Arthur off. “Now that Merlin’s health is settled, we should discuss the situation at hand.”

“Your father,” Gaius said, looking as if he’d aged a decade in the span of a moment.

“My father,” Arthur confirmed. “Gaius, do you know what can be done?”

“There is a potion,” Gaius said haltingly. “I have not made it before, but I know of it. The potion will allow you to see Uther in his spirit form.”

“That’s a start,” Arthur said. “And what then?”

“We must force Uther's spirit to return to the other world before he does any more harm. You must use the Horn of Cathbhadh to reopen the veil between the worlds. But we must remember one thing: only the person who summoned the spirit can force it from this world.”

Arthur drew in a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, there was a renewed pain and determination shining in them. “This was my doing. It is only fitting that I be the one to fix it. Will you prepare the potion, Gaius?”

“I shall start immediately, sire.”

“How long will it take?”

Gaius paused, fingers tapping thoughtfully against his arm. “Most of the day, but I believe it will be ready by sunset.”

Arthur nodded firmly. “Then sunset it is. I will be prepared by then.”

Merlin cut in, voice brooking no protest as he said, “I’m coming with you.”

“Merlin, you’re hurt – “

“Gaius said I would be fine with rest!”

“You would not be resting – “

“Arthur.”

Arthur fell silent. He had never once won an argument against that tone.

Merlin shot him a small smile. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Arthur tried to glare Merlin into submission, but Merlin met his gaze with calm eyes and waited patiently until Arthur wilted. “Fine,” Arthur muttered. “But you are not to leave these chambers until Gaius and I return with the potion tonight.”

Merlin made an indignant noise and leaped out of bed, looking about as threatening as a particularly ruffled rabbit in his rumpled sleep clothes. “I most certainly will not! There are still duties I could attend to while we wait, and even without those, there is more than enough time for me to continue my research!”

“Stop your squawking and just do as you’re told,” Arthur said irritably and tried to wrestle Merlin back into bed. Merlin flailed at him and shoved him away with enough force to make Arthur stagger backward two steps.

“I am being perfectly reasonable!” Merlin snapped. “I am not an invalid just because I’ve had a blow to the head. Hell, if that’s all the criteria needed for a day of bed rest, you should have spent half your life confined to this bed!”

“Oi!” Arthur barked. “We’re doing this for your own good! My father is clearly out for your blood, and you think running all about the castle is a good idea?”

“I didn’t say I was going to do it alone,” Merlin retorted, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at Arthur. “I’ll take someone with me – Gwaine, maybe. But I am not any safer in this bed than I would be anywhere else in this castle.”

Arthur faltered. It was hard to argue with that when they were dealing with a ghost who did not have to obey the rules of man. “Fine,” he said begrudgingly. “You’re taking two knights, Gwaine and Leon.”

Merlin brightened and immediately sidled up to Arthur, giving him a cheerful peck on the cheek. “Gwaine and Leon it is,” Merlin said, looking satisfied as he bustled around the room to select proper clothes for the day.

Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose and muttered to Gaius, “Why do I put up with this?”

Gaius gave him an amused smile. “Well, sire, we are all fools for love sometimes.”

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, a snarky retort on the tip of his tongue. But as he watched Merlin flutter about the chambers they had shared for years, still tripping over objects that Merlin himself left lying about just as he had in his servant days, he found the retort melting away, instead replaced by a soft smile that crept its way across his face.

Fools for love indeed.

“Do let us know if you need anything from us, Gaius,” Arthur murmured. “And tell the guards to fetch Gwaine and Leon for me, won’t you?”

“Of course, sire.” Gaius bowed and quietly slipped out of the room.

When Gwaine and Leon arrived, Arthur briskly informed them of the full situation, stressing how much danger Merlin could be in and that Arthur was putting Merlin’s life in their hands.

“You need not ask, we will defend Merlin with our lives, sire,” Leon said firmly, hand already wrapped around the hilt of his sword, tension clear in every line of his body.

“There will be no defending with anyone’s life necessary,” Merlin scowled. “I’m asking for you both to watch my back because I don’t have a death wish, not because I can’t take care of myself.”

“Nevertheless,” Arthur cut in, shooting Merlin a glare to shut him up. “We do not know what the day will bring or what my father may have planned, so I am asking you, once again, to ensure Merlin’s safety.”

Arthur ignored Merlin’s grumbling under his breath, comforted by the firm nods he received from both of his knights.

--

Much to Merlin’s dismay, he ended up spending most of the morning in his and Arthur’s chambers, catching up on paperwork. It had only been a day, but he’d missed an awful lot of meetings and meeting notes managed to be even more dry than the meetings themselves.

It was practically lunchtime by the time Merlin finished his review of the stack of parchment he’d been given. Once the final report was filed away, Merlin gave a great yawn and stretched his arms upward, twisting his back to loosen muscles wound tight from spending several hours hunched over a desk.

He stood, and Gwaine and Leon’s eyes snapped to him.

“Lunch?” He inclined his head at the door and took a couple of hopeful steps.

“Could be best to summon a servant to fetch it,” Leon suggested.

Merlin huffed impatiently. “Come on, I’m sure the three of us can manage a walk down to the kitchens without me losing my head. Besides, I want to see if I can catch the steward to have a word with him about the upcoming state visit.”

Somewhat begrudgingly, Gwaine and Leon relented but insisted on keeping Merlin between them the entire trip through the castle – Leon ahead of Merlin and Gwaine behind.

They had nearly reached their destination when it happened.

They were so close to kitchens that all three men had let their guard drop. It was at that moment that the windows on the right side of the corridor flew open. Startled, Merlin stumbled, then felt an invisible force give him a great shove, sending him hurtling toward the wide-open window.

Merlin yelped a command and the window slammed shut. In an instant, Gwaine and Leon’s hands were on his arms, halting his momentum before he could crash headfirst into the wall.

Once Merlin was safely back on his own two feet, Gwaine drew his sword and put himself in front of Merlin, glaring around the empty space as if he could find Uther if he only looked hard enough.

“This is too dangerous,” Gwaine snapped. He reached behind him to grab Merlin’s arm again and dragged him back the way they came.

Merlin jerked out of Gwaine’s grip and started back for the kitchens. “We’re already here, we should at least take the food with us.”

“Fine, but you’re staying here with Leon. I’ll get the food.” Gwaine sheathed his sword with an angry click then marched down the corridor, disappearing through the doorway to the kitchens.

Gwaine left in a huff so quickly that Merlin didn’t even get a chance to protest. He made an exasperated noise, then turned to Leon. “Tell me you agree this is all a bit ridiculous.”

Leon shot Merlin an incredulous look. “Merlin. I wasn’t going to say anything, but you’re the only one being ridiculous here.”

“Me?” Merlin yelped.

Leon leveled a long-suffering look at Merlin. Merlin bristled – he was quite sure Leon had picked up that particular expression from Arthur.

“The former king is trying to kill you, that is not something to be taken lightly. I know you don’t put much stock in titles, but you are the King’s Consort. Have you really never thought about how important you are to this kingdom?”

Merlin flinched. He curled in on himself, shoulders rounded, hands twisting themselves together in front of him. “I’m not taking it lightly, I suppose I’m just not used to being the one everyone’s trying to protect,” Merlin admitted softly. “Arthur’s the king, he’s the important one here.”

Leon’s expression softened, and he put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “He’s extremely important. But so are you.” At Merlin’s blush, Leon held up a hand to stop any denials that were forthcoming. “You’ve done so much for Camelot, and I’m not just talking about magic. You give the common people a voice, you don’t let the court pander to Arthur, and most important of all, you’ve made Arthur a better man.”

“Leon…”

Leon plowed on, a serious look on his face. “I know you might not believe me, but it’s all true. I’m only adding this next part because I think it may be the only thing that will get through your head. If anything happened to you, what do you think Arthur would do? What kind of king do you think he would be without you?”

Merlin froze. “He would still be a great king with or without me.”

“Perhaps,” Leon conceded. “Arthur is an honorable man that puts all his heart into his duty. But he’s also only a man. And men can be fragile, especially in the face of love. Is Uther not proof of that? Arthur is a far cry from his father, but if he lost you, I fear I would not be able to vouch for the kind of man that would remain.”

“Arthur wouldn’t take his grief out on innocents,” Merlin protested.

Leon nodded. “True, he is far too kind for that. But a broken man does not make for a good ruler.”

Merlin found that he could not refute that. He swallowed hard. “Thank you, Leon. I… will be more careful.”

Leon visibly relaxed, a relieved smile crossing his features. “Good, that’s all we ask.”

“In the spirit of being careful, will you tell me if I’m being reckless again?”

Leon chuckled. “Certainly. But I must say I’m sorry Arthur wasn’t here to hear that. I daresay he’s been hoping you will ask that of him for years now.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and flashed a cheeky smile. “For the record, I only asked you to tell me if I’m being reckless. I didn’t say anything about if I would listen.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence while waiting for Gwaine to return with the food. When Gwaine did reappear, tray in hand, the three of them wound their way back across the castle to the King’s chambers.

Merlin waited until they were nearly done with their meal to ask, “This afternoon, I’d like to search through a few more books in my tower. Will you accompany me?”

“You’re not going back to that tower,” Gwaine said shortly, viciously stabbing a piece of chicken.

“Gwaine, come on,” Merlin whined. “It’s not the tower itself that’s a danger.”

“I bet Arthur would agree with me.”

“Since when has that mattered to you!”

“Why don’t we just discuss this a little more?” Leon cut in, holding out a placating hand toward both Merlin and Gwaine.

When both men turned to look at Leon expectantly, Leon cleared his throat. “I happen to be aware that Arthur ordered any and all items that could be used as a weapon to be removed from your tower.”

“Temporarily,” Leon added hastily at Merlin’s furious look. “So I will admit that it is not an entirely terrible idea for you to go back there, Merlin. However, I will insist that you fetch the books and return here to read them.”

Merlin considered the offer. “Fine,” he eventually agreed.

A frantic knocking came at the door.

Merlin, Leon, and Gwaine shot to their feet. Merlin stalked over to the door and yanked it open. The tension bled out of his shoulders when he saw it was only a wide-eyed servant on the other side.

“Yes?”

“My lord, the Court Physician requests your presence. As soon as possible,” the servant squeaked.

“Gaius,” Merlin breathed, panic flooding through him. Without even checking if Gwaine and Leon were with him, Merlin took off at a sprint through the corridors, tripping around servants and skidding his way around corners. He thought he heard exasperated shouts of his name and the sounds of boots pounding on the flagstones behind him, but he wasted no time to turn and check.

Merlin was breathless when he crashed his way into Gaius’s workshop. His mouth dropped open.

Gaius had never been the tidiest, never one to keep a surface clear unless he was currently working on it. And the clutter had certainly grown worse over the years since Gaius had been moved into a more comfortable set of chambers around the corner – at Merlin’s insistence – and his old chambers now functioned only as his workshop and a place to treat patients.

But the room was an absolute mess. The floor was littered with shattered glass, magical and non-magical potions alike spilling their contents across the floorboards.

Gaius was clutching a broom, sweeping broken glass into a pile on the other side of the room.

“Gaius!”

Merlin waved a hand and the shards of glass collected themselves into a neat pile in the trash. He was about to vanish the puddles on the floor as well when Gaius held up a hand and said, “Merlin, stop.”

Merlin met Gaius’s weary gaze with one of confusion. “Why? Are you all right, Gaius? What happened?”

Gaius tossed a few rags onto the floor, stepping on them gingerly to make his way across the room to Merlin. Gaius gestured toward a set of chairs by the door. He sat in one and waited until Merlin sat in the other before he said, “I’m fine, Merlin.”

Gaius’s face looked ashen, and Merlin saw guilt carved in the lines of his face. “Are you?” Merlin prodded gently.

A tired smile crossed Gaius’s face, and he patted Merlin’s arm. “I am, my boy. As for what happened, I am almost certain this was Uther’s doing.”

Merlin’s anger flared, only Gaius’s hand firm upon his arm stopped him from leaping out of his seat.

Gaius’s voice turned stern as he continued. “Let me finish. I just returned from collecting the final ingredients for the potion.” He pointed at the pouch hanging from the back of the door, bulging with flowers and herbs.

“When I came in, I hung those up and went to check on the tincture I’ve been purifying as an experiment for a new remedy. I suspect that the remedy will work if I only find the correct level of purification… ah, but that is neither here nor there. I added a few drops of the tincture to the remedy and cast a spell – a very short, simple one – to see the effects. I expect the remedy to change color to silver if what I’ve done is effective.”

“And then Uther…” Merlin whispered, eyes widening in horror.

“Yes,” Gaius sighed. “He must have been in the room with me. All of a sudden, vials were flying off the shelves and tables, ingredients were thrown to the floor as if a gale whipped through the room. Then as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. It didn’t take long for me to put the pieces together. That’s when I sent for you.”

Merlin shot to his feet, shaking Gaius’s hand off his arm, and began to pace. “I would ask if you’re sure it was Uther, but I don’t see who else it could be.”

“It is the only logical explanation,” Gaius agreed. He cast a sad look around his workshop. “I should have known he would be angry with me. I made him a vow once,” Gaius mused, half to himself.

Merlin bent to take hold of Gaius’s shoulders and shook him lightly. “No, Gaius, this is not your fault. You spent so much of your life bowing to Uther’s twisted vengeance against your own better judgment. The least he could do is leave you in peace now.”

“Forgiveness did not come easily to him,” Gaius murmured.

“You do not need his forgiveness,” Merlin said hotly.

“No, you’re right. But it would be nice to have it, all the same.”

To that, Merlin had no response. He supposed that, in some ways, it was not unlike his need to seek Arthur’s forgiveness for his own magic. Unneeded – magic was not something to apologize for, after all – but wanted all the same.

“I understand, I think,” Merlin whispered, dropping into the seat beside Gaius again, feeling the anger from earlier drain out of him.

Gaius glanced around his workshop with weary eyes once more. His gaze sharpened when it landed back on Merlin. “Thankfully, this mess has no bearing on the timeline of the potion. I still expect it to be ready by sunset, so we will be rid of this soon.”

Merlin nodded, his expression tight as he gazed around the room. “Let me clean this all up for you, at least.”

Gaius shook his head sharply. “No more magic here, Merlin. We have no way of knowing where Uther is, and that’s what started this in the first place.”

Merlin scowled and jutted his chin out stubbornly. “If my presence here isn’t sending Uther into a frenzy, nothing else will. I think it’s fairly safe to assume he isn’t in this room with us any longer. It’s ridiculous to clean up this entire mess yourself.”

Gaius looked skeptical, but eventually gave a short sigh and acquiesced. A small smile flitted across his lips. “I suppose I don’t have an assistant to do the picking up for me anymore.”

Merlin grinned, then hopped to his feet to direct his magic to set the room back to rights. “I keep telling you that you should hire another. Gods know that’s not why you kept me around,” Merlin quipped, keeping one eye on the rags that were scrubbing stains out of the wood and another on the objects flying around the room to their rightful places.

Gaius just laughed, watching with fond amusement as Merlin dodged a book that barely missed his head as it flew by.

Once the last of the potions were vanished, Merlin spread his arms and announced with a flourish, “All done.”

A frown creased Merlin’s face even as Gaius ruffled his hair. “I feel that I should stay here with you until the potion is ready.”

Leon hurried to cut in, making Merlin jump. He had forgotten that Leon and Gwaine had trailed him to Gaius’s workshop. “I don’t think that’s wise, Merlin.”

“Why not?” Merlin demanded.

Leon grimaced at him. “We don’t know what Uther is after, but it’s quite clear that while he is angry with Gaius, he is not threatening Gaius’s life. Not like he is with you. Gaius may be in more danger if you are with him, Merlin.”

Merlin turned that over in his head and eventually nodded, begrudgingly accepting that Leon had a point. He spun around, regarding the room critically. Merlin flung out his hand and incanted three spells in quick succession, allowing his magic to fill the room. He summoned a small river stone to him, one that he recognized as a pebble Gaius had intended to toss back outside. Merlin waved a hand over it, his eyes flashing gold.

“Merlin?” Gaius asked.

Merlin pressed the stone into Gaius’s hand. “It’s for protection. I’ve infused it with the strongest protection charms I know of. Keep that in your pocket until this is all over.”

Gaius’s face softened, and he accepted the stone, tucking it in his breast pocket. “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled tightly, then gestured around the room. “And the workshop. I’ve cast warding spells on it. I don’t know what Uther can do exactly, but if he tries to come here again, it will not be as easy as the last time.”

Gaius pulled Merlin into a brief hug. “Thank you, my boy,” he said quietly. “I’ll be all right, it’s yourself you should be worried about.”

“I can take care of myself,” Merlin said, flashing Gaius a cocksure grin.

Gaius gave an exasperated sigh even as a fond smile crept across his face. “Off you go, I have things to do.”

Leon and Gwaine took the opportunity to grab Merlin’s arms and drag him out the door. Merlin went, but not before calling over his shoulder, “Be careful, Gaius!”

Merlin had barely made it around the corner from Gaius’s workshop when his face contorted into a scowl once again. “We are going to my tower. Now.”

Leon and Gwaine winced but didn’t argue. It was quite clear what was driving Merlin’s need for research this time. They escorted Merlin up the steps to his tower, but at the entrance to Merlin’s workshop, Gwaine insisted that Merlin stay put while he did a sweep of the room. To their collective relief, Gwaine appeared in the doorway minutes later, proclaiming the room safe to enter.

“Be quick, Merlin,” Leon still warned as they filed inside.

Merlin nodded, rifling through his bookshelves and scattered books as quickly as he could. He could feel the tension rolling off Leon and Gwaine, and he had no intention of making them put up with this for a second longer than he had to.

Despite Camelot’s need to grow their collection of magic related books, Merlin did have quite the assortment of them, and he couldn’t be sure which, if any of them, would hold further information about the Horn of Cathbhadh or the ritual.

By the end of his search, he had accumulated a stack of eight books, promising enough to flip through and enough to occupy him for the rest of the afternoon. Merlin quickly split the books up between the three of them. He handed Leon and Gwaine two books each, thinner ones that could be carried under one arm, to ensure they could keep one hand free to reach for their swords. Merlin took the rest in his arms, balancing the thickest ones carefully to ensure he could carry them securely down the winding steps.

“Back downstairs?” Merlin asked, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Thank gods,” Gwaine ground out, marching straight for the door and dragging it open, gesturing sharply for Leon and Merlin to head down.

Leon shared an amused look with Merlin – Gwaine on edge was not a sight they normally encountered.

When Gwaine thumbed his sword out of its sheath with a warning click, Leon said, “All right, we’re going, calm down, will you?” Then he shuffled out the door, glancing back just once to confirm that Merlin was following.

They trekked down the long spiral staircase, listening to Gwaine’s impatient huffs from behind Merlin with barely suppressed laughter.

They had made it more than halfway down the tower steps when Merlin felt a cold wind gust toward them. He knew he wasn’t the only one by the way both Leon and Gwaine stiffened, their hands flying to their sword hilts.

Merlin looked around wildly, blindly groping with his magic to try and identify where Uther might be. Before he could figure it out, Leon gave a shout and his entire body lurched.

Merlin lunged for him, his armful of books spilling to the floor. He briefly caught hold of Leon’s sleeve, but it wasn’t enough, the fabric slipped from his fingers and he and Gwaine could only watch in horror as Leon fell forward, tumbling down the steps, crashing into the curve of the wall, and continuing his tumble around the bend.

“Leon!” Merlin shouted, running to follow Leon’s falling form. He flung out his hand and willed his magic to cushion Leon’s fall, protect him, damn it. He just made it around the bend in time to see Leon roll to a gentle stop at the bottom of the steps, unmoving but clearly still breathing.

Merlin didn’t even get a chance to catch his breath when he felt the distinct sensation of hands on his back, shoving him with such force that he had no hope of catching himself before hitting the ground.

With a startled cry, Merlin followed Leon’s tumble down the steps. Automatically, he curled in on himself, protecting his head to avoid cracking it open on a stone step. It was a small mercy, for he could still feel the edge of each stone digging into his skin as he rolled down, the impact still enough to knock the breath out of him as gravity took him down, down, down.

Merlin collided with Leon at the bottom of the steps with a grunt. Merlin laid there, dazed and feeling bruises forming all over, just thankful that his magic that had answered his call to cushion Leon’s fall had done the same for him.

In a clatter of armor, Gwaine dropped to one knee beside him.

“Merlin! Leon!” He sounded frantic, but his hands were gentle as he lifted Merlin carefully off of Leon.

“Gwaine,” Merlin gasped. He glanced up, noting with relief that it did not appear as though Gwaine had been pushed down the stairs as well. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Gwaine said curtly. “He tried to push me too, but I was too far down the stairs already chasing after you. I tripped a little down the last few steps, but nothing as bad as the two of you.”

Merlin sat up, wincing and holding a hand to his head to try to steady the wave of dizziness that washed over him. “Is he still here?” he mumbled.

“Not that I can tell,” Gwaine replied, letting go of Merlin when it became clear he could sit on his own and moving over to check on Leon.

Merlin gulped down several deep breaths, the oxygen helping a little to clear his head. When he felt as though the world was no longer spinning, Merlin crawled shakily over to Leon’s other side, skimming his hands over him to try and identify how badly hurt he was.

“He’s not conscious, but we should be able to move him,” Merlin said. He sat back on his heels, clenching his fists against his thighs to still their trembling. “We have to get him to Gaius as soon as we can.”

Merlin had barely finished speaking when the corridor was filled with guards. “My lord!” one shouted. “Where can we be of assistance?”

Gwaine beat Merlin to it. “Sir Leon needs to be taken to the Court Physician immediately! You two.” He pointed at the two closest guards. “Carry him carefully and ensure his safe arrival there.”

Merlin tried to protest, wanting to take Leon to Gaius himself, but Gwaine gave him a hard look that brooked no argument.

Gwaine waved forward another two guards and barked, “Fetch Sir Elyan and ask him to meet us in the King’s chambers.”

The guards looked to Merlin uncertainly, so Merlin gave a firm nod, confirming that he agreed with Gwaine’s orders. The guards scurried off to follow their instructions, leaving Merlin to stare at Leon’s retreating form, limply carried between two guards, until they turned a corner and were gone.

Gwaine rested a warm hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault,” he said, voice softer than it had been all day.

Merlin sighed and looked over at Gwaine, seeing his worry reflected in Gwaine’s eyes. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmured, eyes flicking back down the corridor where Leon was taken away. “But neither of you would be involved if not for me. I just want to know he’ll be all right.”

“Uther never liked me anyways,” Gwaine tried to joke, a flash of his usual roguish smile appearing on his features before he sobered. “Gaius will send word once he’s examined Leon, you know he will. Besides, I saw you use your magic to protect him. If only because of that, I’m sure he will have avoided any serious injury.”

“I hope so,” Merlin murmured. He slumped down, staring at his hands, suddenly feeling all the exhaustion of the day weighing down on him.

Gwaine’s hands were gentle as he tugged Merlin to his feet. “Let’s go back to your chambers.”

Merlin nodded mutely. They were halfway down the corridor when Merlin’s head snapped up and he whirled around. “My books!”

Those books had been the reason Leon had gotten hurt, Merlin would be damned if he wouldn’t at least make that worth it.

Gwaine gave his arm a hard yank, forcing him to continue down the corridor away from the tower. “I’ll send a few servants to collect them. Right now, I’m getting you far away from that tower.”

“I’m not letting someone else get hurt because of this,” Merlin snapped.

Gwaine didn’t let go of Merlin’s arm. “They will be fine,” he stressed. “Uther is after you, he’s not going to care about a couple servants picking up some books. Now let’s go.”

Merlin grumbled his assent, conceding quietly that Gwaine likely had a point. Uther had always been the type to overlook servants, after all.

Elyan was waiting for them when they returned to Arthur and Merlin’s chambers. Merlin offered Elyan a tired smile, then collapsed into a chair at the desk, dropping his head in his hands and wondering if there was anything else he could be doing to make this easier.

Dimly, he registered Gwaine ordering three servants to fetch the books on the tower steps and then quietly briefing Elyan on the situation.

“Merlin, are you all right?” Elyan asked softly once he’d been caught up on the day’s events.

Merlin lifted his head to give Elyan a weak smile. “Depends how you define ‘all right’. I’m bruised, and I’m sore, but I’m alive. But Arthur’s father is trying to kill me and doesn’t seem to care who he hurts in the process, even if it’s a man who’d never been anything but loyal to him while he was alive.” Merlin barked a slightly hysterical laugh. “Gaius’s potion can’t be ready fast enough.”

Elyan’s face was the picture of sympathy. “Sunset, right?”

Merlin glanced out the open window, where the sun was only beginning its descent in the sky. “Yeah, sunset,” he sighed.

Merlin spent the remainder of the afternoon poring over his books, frustrated that he’d found barely any new information about the Horn of Cathbhadh. It was nearing sunset when a servant slipped inside to bring news of Leon’s condition.

“My-my lord,” the servant stammered, dropping into such a low bow that Merlin almost winced.

“Can I help you?”

“Gaius sent me, my lord. To inform you Sir Leon is doing better.”

Relief flooded Merlin, and he slumped back in his chair. “What else did Gaius ask you to tell us?”

“That Sir Leon suffers a concussion, my lord. He is also dealing with many bruises all over him, but he is awake and lucid. Sir Leon asked me to tell you thank you, since he suspects his lack of further injuries is due to your intervention, my lord,” the servant said all in a rush.

“Thank gods,” Merlin breathed. He rolled his eyes at Gwaine, who was standing across the room, grinning at Merlin as he mouthed, “Told you so.”

Merlin turned back to the servant and offered a grateful smile. “Please tell Sir Leon that I will come by and see him tomorrow.”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant squeaked, then scurried back out the door.

Merlin had scarcely had the chance to process his relief when the doors flew open again.

Merlin jumped. Elyan and Gwaine spun to face the doors, hands flying to their sword hilts. They all relaxed when they saw that it was only Arthur who had burst through the doors.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, leaning back in his chair and letting his head fall back against the wood. “You scared us all half to death.”

Arthur folded his arms across his chest and pinned Merlin with a glare. “Oh, I’m the one who scared you, am I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve just come from Gaius’s workshop, where I received a very enlightening report from Leon of how there were two attempts on your life today,” Arthur said in clipped tones.

Merlin winced. He rose from his seat and approached Arthur, hands held up in a placating gesture. “Arthur – “

“What did I say about being careful?” Arthur snapped.

Merlin’s hands fell back to his sides. He thought back to their conversation from the morning. “Well, technically, you didn’t say specifically to be careful – “

“Merlin!”

Merlin quickly backtracked. “Yes, yes, I got the general idea. And I promise we were being careful. I didn’t leave this room all morning until we went to get lunch from the kitchens – “

“And I suppose you have a good reason why a servant could not fetch the food?”

“I wanted to talk to the steward too,” Merlin said defensively, crossing his arms and glaring back at Arthur.

“Which could not possibly have waited one more day,” Arthur replied dryly.

“I am just saying that it seemed like a good opportunity, and how dangerous could it be to walk to the castle kitchens?”

“Yes, how dangerous indeed.” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Merlin muttered, a mulish expression on his face.

“Are you?” Arthur shot back. “So you didn’t fall down the tower steps?”

Merlin winced and refused to meet Arthur’s gaze.

“Tell me, Merlin, why did you feel the need to return to the place my father tried to attack you the first time?”

There came a cough from Gwaine that sounded suspiciously like, “Told you.”

Merlin shot Gwaine a glare. He was thoroughly miffed to receive only a wide innocent grin in return.

“I wanted some books,” Merlin said sullenly. “Leon even said it wasn’t a terrible idea, and he made me promise to bring them straight back here. As plans go, it was a pretty good one.”

“I said you wouldn’t like it,” Gwaine piped up unhelpfully.

Arthur shared an approving look with Gwaine. He turned back to Merlin and sighed, “Now you’ve made me agree with Gwaine. I feel as though that should tell you all you need to know.”

Merlin threw his hands in the air. “All right, all right! Forgive me for thinking that two knights and a Court Sorcerer would be safe walking around the castle.”

Abruptly, he straightened, it finally sinking in that Arthur had been to see Leon. “Is Leon really all right?” he asked in a small voice.

Arthur’s eyes softened, and he closed the distance between them, gently laying his hands on either side of Merlin’s arms. “Yes, aside from his concussion and some bruising, he’s perfectly fine. He won’t be swinging a sword in a hurry, but considering those stairs, it’s a miracle that he’s not much worse off.”

Merlin swayed forward and leaned his forehead against Arthur’s shoulder, letting his eyes flutter closed. “Good, that’s good,” he breathed.

Merlin felt Arthur twist around and heard him give a hushed command for Gwaine and Elyan to wait for them outside. As Arthur’s arms wrapped around him, the door shut with a quiet click. “Where are you hurt?” came Arthur’s quiet voice.

Merlin stiffened. “I’m fine.”

“You are not.” Arthur pushed Merlin away and steered him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come on, take off your tunic and let me look at you.”

“I told you that I’m fine,” Merlin insisted.

Arthur took hold of the bottom of Merlin’s tunic and gave it a rough jerk upward, ignoring Merlin’s squawk of protest. “Don’t be an idiot, Merlin. You fell down the stairs, you couldn’t possibly not even be bruised.”

Merlin grumbled his displeasure but reluctantly allowed Arthur to wrestle the tunic over his head. “I did used to be the physician’s assistant. I can deal with my own injuries, you know.”

Arthur’s face was pinched with worry as he glanced over Merlin’s body. With a gentle touch, he skimmed his fingers across the bruises blooming on Merlin’s arms, chest, and back. “This is what you consider to be fine?”

“They’re just bruises, I’ll deal with healing them once this is over,” Merlin said with a shrug.

“Why is it so hard to get you to take care of yourself?” Arthur’s fingers dragged up Merlin’s back, his hand coming to rest on the back of Merlin’s neck. Arthur tilted Merlin’s face up gently to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Too busy trying to take care of you,” Merlin quipped, the corners of his lips turning up in a joking smile.

Arthur smiled back, but the worry didn’t leave his eyes. He stepped away, letting his hand trail over Merlin’s neck and shoulder, as if unwilling to break contact. He rummaged through his desk drawer, returning to Merlin’s side with a small pot of salve in hand.

“Hold still, let me put this on your bruises,” Arthur said softly, popping open the top of the small pot. Merlin opened his mouth to protest but relented at the pleading look in Arthur’s eyes.

Merlin obediently presented his back to Arthur. “They really are just bruises, Arthur. I trained long enough with Gaius to know that.”

Arthur’s hands were gentle and warm against Merlin’s skin as he rubbed the salve in. “I believe you. I still want Gaius to look at you once my father is found. For me?”

“All right,” Merlin conceded.

Arthur worked in silence, tending to each mark on Merlin’s skin with loving precision. When he was done, he put the top back on the pot of salve and set it down on the bedside table with a clatter.

Merlin jolted at the loud sound, jerking around to face Arthur. To his surprise, Arthur’s face was like a storm cloud.

“Arthur?” Merlin reached out and laid a careful hand on Arthur’s arm.

“What was my father thinking?” Arthur ground out, eyes flashing with anger as they roved over the bruises littering Merlin’s body.

Merlin winced and made a grab for his tunic. Arthur’s fingers closed around his wrist in a vice grip. “No, don’t try to cover them up for his sake.”

Merlin slowly drew his hand back, resting his other hand over Arthur’s. “It’s not for his sake, it’s for yours,” Merlin murmured.

Arthur’s jaw clenched, and he glanced away sharply. Merlin waited patiently for Arthur to find his voice.

“I am more than aware of the hatred my father has for magic. I am under no illusions that he would have approved of our marriage, or even tolerated it, in fact.” A bitter laugh tore out of Arthur’s throat.

“What’s bothering you then?” Merlin gently uncurled Arthur’s fingers from around his wrist and laced their fingers together. Arthur’s fingers tightened around his, and Merlin gripped back, scooting closer until their legs were pressed together.

“A fool’s hope,” Arthur said, his voice like the crack of a whip. “He knows what it is to love. He knows better than anyone what it is to lose the one you love. I never imagined he would be willing to inflict that on me.”

Arthur paused, pain rippling over his features. He drew in a shaky breath, his next words furious and broken in equal measure. “If nothing else, I believed he loved me enough to protect me.”

“I think he believes he is protecting you,” Merlin said softly.

Arthur barked a laugh. It was a hollow and disbelieving sound. “If that’s true, his idea of protection is an awfully cruel one.”

Merlin did not bother to deny that. Instead, he opted for silently running his fingers along Arthur’s arm, keeping their hands clasped together in an effort to anchor Arthur.

A humorless smile crossed Arthur’s face. “Then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a cruel man, a cruel father even. To be willing to go to such lengths to hurt the man I love, my father is clearly not the man I thought he was. What else is there to hold onto?”

“Stop it, Arthur,” Merlin said sharply.

Arthur startled, finally turning to meet Merlin’s gaze. “Excuse me?”

“Stop it,” Merlin repeated. “You don’t really believe all that.”

“I do,” Arthur snapped. “You’re not going to tell me you don’t?”

Merlin flinched and looked away. “I do believe that he was a cruel man. But I also believe that he was only human and that he had a heart before your mother passed away. Afterward, the cruelty within him may be all that was left, but if anyone could remind him of what love is, it was you, Arthur.”

“Are you trying to tell me that my father’s redeeming feature was that he loved me, his son? That’s an awfully small thing in the face of all that he’s done,” Arthur said incredulously.

“I’m not trying to justify his actions, those are irredeemable,” Merlin snapped. He stopped himself, took a deep breath, and carried on in softer tones. “But I am trying to remind you that your father loved you – in whatever way he was able. And I know, I know, Arthur, that you loved him. And will always love him.”

Arthur’s throat worked furiously, trying in vain to come up with a retort.

Merlin smiled tiredly. He lifted a hand to cup Arthur’s cheek, drawing him in for a slow, lingering kiss. When they parted, Merlin kept his hand on Arthur’s face, keeping him close.

“I know you’re angry with him. And you’re grieving. And thank you, Arthur, for putting me above all the many things you’re feeling right now.”

Merlin pressed another kiss to Arthur’s lips.

“But I know you, Arthur. Don’t let the fury and the hatred you’re feeling right now be the last memory you have of your father. If you do, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

“But he tried to kill you,” Arthur whispered, untangling their fingers and wrapping shaking arms around Merlin.

Merlin let himself be drawn close to Arthur, pressing his forehead into Arthur’s neck, letting himself – just for a moment – relax into Arthur’s strong arms. “He failed though,” Merlin reminded him.

“It was enough that he tried,” Arthur insisted.

Merlin pressed a hand to Arthur’s chest, feeling his racing heartbeat beneath his palm. “I know. That’s why we’re going to find him tonight and send him back where he belongs.”

Arthur’s breath hitched, and his arms tightened around Merlin. Merlin closed his eyes, smiling sadly to himself. There was the difference between Arthur and Uther. No matter what Arthur might say, he could never shut people out of his heart.

“In the meantime, don’t let your father draw you into doing something you’ll regret.”

Arthur let out a shaky sigh against Merlin’s hair. His voice was trembling when he said, “He doesn’t deserve this from you, Merlin.”

“He doesn’t,” Merlin agreed. “But you do. It’s your heart I’m worried about.” Merlin lifted his head to look at Arthur. Arthur’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and Merlin shot him a playful smile, pressing his hand against Arthur’s chest again, just over his heart. “Protect it for me, will you?”

A sound that was half laugh, half sob ripped its way out of Arthur’s throat. He leaned into Merlin, burying his face in Merlin’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll try,” Arthur breathed. “In return, promise me you’ll protect yourself?”

Merlin dropped a kiss on Arthur’s temple. “Anything for you.”

They sat in silence in each other’s arms as the sun dipped below the horizon, shadows lengthening and sweeping their way across the room. By the time a knock came at the door, the room had gone dark.

“It’s Gaius,” came Elyan’s voice from the other side of the door.

Arthur lifted his head from Merlin’s shoulder. He took a few steadying breaths and rose to his feet, walking toward the door as if he were walking into battle.

Merlin followed, hastily pulling his tunic over his head. He waved a hand at the hearth, and a fire sprang to life, the wood crackling merrily. With another wave, the candles lit themselves, bathing the room in a warm glow.

“Enter,” Arthur called.

The doors opened, admitting Gaius. Gaius set two vials down on the table. “As I said previously, the potion will allow you to see Uther in his spirit form. Once you are in his presence, you must blow the horn. It's the only way you can force him to go back to the Spirit World.”

Arthur picked up both vials, examining them with a resigned look on his face. Merlin approached Arthur’s side and reached for one of the vials.

Arthur held them out of reach, fixing Merlin with a pleading look. “You don’t have to take this.”

Merlin scowled and his eyes flashed gold. One of the vials jerked itself loose from Arthur’s hand and floated over to Merlin, where he snatched it out of the air.

“I’ve already told you, I’m not letting you do this alone.” Merlin uncorked the vial and gave it a sniff, then promptly recoiled at the smell.

“Is it safe?” Arthur asked Gaius.

Gaius hesitated, then said, “As safe as any potion I’ve made for the first time, sire.”

Arthur exchanged a look with Merlin. Merlin shrugged, then held the vial out to Arthur with a raised eyebrow, as if asking “What are you waiting for?”

Arthur sighed and clinked his vial against Merlin’s. Eyes locked, Merlin and Arthur tossed the contents of the vials down their throats.

Immediately, both men doubled over, gagging and coughing at the taste.

“That is the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Arthur choked out.

“This might be one of your worst, Gaius,” Merlin gasped.

“Everything okay in here?” Elyan poked his head into the room, concern etched across his face.

Arthur waved in Elyan’s general direction. He swallowed hard, then gasped, “Fine. Or eventually we will be.”

Merlin fumbled to grab hold of two goblets and filled them magically with water. He thrust one at Arthur. “Here.”

They both gulped down the water, feeling marginally less like something died in their mouths after the goblets were drained.

“Ready?” Merlin croaked.

Arthur squared his shoulders and retrieved the Horn of Cathbhadh. He grimaced. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

--

Arthur stepped out into the corridor with Merlin at his heels. He held out a hand to Gwaine, who picked up the torch hanging on the wall to his right and handed it to Arthur.

Arthur looked back at Merlin, a silent conversation held in the exchange of a glance. Merlin gave a firm nod, and Arthur inclined his head toward the rest of the castle. They set off down the dimly lit corridor, pausing when they heard the sound of footsteps following.

Tense, Arthur and Merlin swung around, only to find Gwaine and Elyan bare paces behind them.

“Gwaine. Elyan,” Arthur said, looking each man in the eye in turn. “There is no need to accompany us.”

“Arthur,” Gwaine said, shooting them a disbelieving look. “You’ve seen what that ghost will do. It’s madness for you to go alone.”

“I won’t be going alone, I’ll have Merlin.” Arthur tried for a lighthearted smile.

Gwaine responded by crossing his arms over his chest and standing his ground, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Merlin stepped toward Gwaine and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be able to see Uther this time, it won’t be like the other times. And if anything goes wrong, we’ll call. It’s likely you’ll hear us while on your normal sweep of the castle.”

It wasn’t until Merlin flashed one of his characteristic bright smiles that Gwaine looked slightly mollified. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “Elyan and I will be doing our usual circuit. Don’t you dare hold back if you need help.”

“We won’t.” Merlin gave Gwaine’s shoulder one more squeeze, then returned to Arthur’s side.

They ventured further away from the King’s chambers, ignoring the feel of Gwaine and Elyan’s gazes trained on their backs.

“Gwaine has too much of a soft spot for you,” Arthur muttered after they turned the corner and were out of earshot, swinging the torch in a sharp half-circle in front of them.

Merlin shot him a reproachful glance and laid a hand on his arm, stilling Arthur mid-swing. “He does not. He’s a good friend. To both of us,” Merlin said pointedly, an edge to his voice betraying that this was not the first time they’d had this conversation.

Arthur grumbled under his breath, then said loud enough for Merlin to hear, “We both know he came to Camelot for you, not for me.”

Merlin sighed. “So what if he did? He stayed for you. Because you were a king worth serving.”

They turned another corner. Both men fell silent, listening intently for the smallest sound. When none was forthcoming, they continued down the corridor.

“I’m pretty sure it was still at least half because of you,” Arthur muttered petulantly. “And I’m being generous.”

“Maybe years ago,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “But we’ve all changed over the years, Arthur. You’re the one I married, after all.”

Arthur couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed his lips. He glanced over at Merlin, and his heart skipped a beat, even after all these years, at finding the same affection reflected on his face. He caught Merlin’s hand in his own, tangling their fingers in a brief squeeze.

“He still looks at you the same way,” Arthur added, his jab softened by the tenderness in the curve of his lips.

“Possessive prat,” Merlin said, amused.

“And I’m pretty sure he would still whisk you away from here if I ever hurt you.”

“All the better to keep you in line,” Merlin said, eyes twinkling mischievously. Then his expression softened, and he darted in to brush his lips against Arthur’s. “But I would never leave you.”

Arthur chased after Merlin’s lips as he retreated, tugging Merlin back in with a hand fisted in his tunic to deepen the kiss. “And I would never hurt you,” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s lips.

“I know,” Merlin whispered into the space between their mouths.

When they pulled apart and turned to continue their search, Arthur and Merlin froze in their tracks.

Uther – pale as moonlight – stood at the end of the corridor. He met each of their gazes coolly, then slunk away, out of sight once more.

Merlin swallowed hard, throat suddenly paper dry. “Was that - ?”

“My father,” Arthur said darkly.

They hurried to the end of the corridor, looking both ways to try and ascertain which way Uther went.

“We should split up to look for him,” Merlin said.

“I am not letting you out of my sight,” Arthur snapped.

“Arthur, he can’t have gone far now that we’ve spotted him. You go left, I’ll go right. As soon as one of us sees him, we’ll yell, all right? We have no time to lose.”

Arthur pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Fine,” he finally ground out. “Don’t go far. If you find him, you are to use any means necessary to protect yourself. Shout, and I’ll be there right away.”

“Promise,” Merlin said. He sent Arthur a soft smile, then conjured an orb of light in his palm that cast a muted blue glow around them.

Merlin spun on his heel and headed down the right side of the corridor. With more than a little trepidation, Arthur went the opposite way, barely restraining the urge to look over his shoulder. Arthur had only made it halfway down his side of the corridor when a cold gust of wind rushed at him, extinguishing the flame of his torch.

“Father,” Arthur whispered, apprehension crashing over him in a wave.

Uther appeared at the end of the corridor, then promptly stalked away, disappearing around the left corner. Arthur took off at a run to catch him, pulling the horn out of its place tucked into his belt as he went.

Relief coursed through Arthur. If Uther was here with him, that meant Merlin wasn’t in any danger. If he could find Uther and send him back to the spirit world himself, then Merlin need never be in danger from him again.

Arthur skidded to a stop where Uther had been standing. Cautiously, he crept around the corner, wondering if he was about to come face-to-face with his father.

Dread settled around Arthur like a blanket. The throne room lay just ahead, its doors swung wide open. Arthur took a deep breath, adjusted his grip on the horn, tossed his shoulders back, and strode down the corridor and into the throne room.

The doors slammed shut behind him in a gust of bone-chilling wind. Arthur whipped around, eyes searching for any trace of Uther. “I know it’s you, Father.”

Arthur felt a faint prickling on the back of his neck, as if he was being watched. Slowly, he turned around.

Uther lounged on Arthur’s throne, as comfortable as if he’d never left.

“Why are you doing this?” Arthur demanded.

“I did not spend my entire life building this kingdom to see my own son destroy it,” Uther said, his cold voice echoing through the empty hall.

“You tried to kill Merlin.”

Uther sneered. “For your own good,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He glanced around the throne room, gaze lingering on the empty throne beside him, disgust curling his lip. “That sorcerer was clouding your judgment, leading you astray from all I have sought to teach you.”

“Clouding my judgment,” Arthur said incredulously. “Merlin has been my staunchest supporter, my wisest councilor. Even while you were alive, you saw his unwavering loyalty. How can you sit there and hurl these accusations?”

“I was blind,” Uther snarled. “Sorcery is insidious, it seeks to ingratiate and corrupt. I will not allow it to dig its claws into Camelot once more!”

“You are wrong,” Arthur declared, standing firm, determined not to bend under the weight of his father’s anger. “Merlin is the farthest thing from that. He has shown me over and over that magic is so much more than the narrow view of it you taught me.”

“You have turned your back on your own father,” Uther roared.

Arthur flinched but held his ground. “I have done no such thing. For my entire life, you were my greatest role model, a great king I sought to emulate. You’ve made me the man I am today. But do not mistake me, Father, Merlin has made me a better, kinder man than you ever would. I trust him with my life, and you would do well to remember that.”

“That is your weakness,” Uther growled. “You put too much trust in other people. You have allowed a sorcerer of all people to become your greatest weakness. I heard you in the corridor. Fighting with a peasant knight over the affections of that sorcerer.”

Arthur flinched. He had not expected Uther to be listening.

“He does not deserve your regard, much less your love.”

“Merlin deserves everything I have to give,” Arthur retorted, fierce protectiveness surging within him.

"If that is what you believe, then I have failed you. I have watched you today.” An expression akin to pity crossed Uther’s face. “I am disappointed in you, Arthur.”

Arthur staggered backward. Uther’s disappointment, something he thought he’d long put up defenses against, was like a knife to the heart even now.

“You have allowed your heart too much sway in your decisions. You, and you alone must rule Camelot,” Uther declared, taking advantage of Arthur’s momentary silence.

“I would rather not rule at all than rule alone,” Arthur said hoarsely.

“Your whole life I tried to prepare you for the day you would become King. Did you learn nothing?” Uther snarled.

Arthur’s temper flared. He drew himself up again and took a step toward Uther. “I watched you rule. I learned that if you trust no one, you'll always live in fear. Your hatred came from fear, not strength.”

“How dare you,” Uther shouted.

“I loved and respected you, but I have to rule the kingdom in my own way. I have to do what I believe to be right.” Arthur took another step toward Uther, gripping the horn more securely in his hand.

“I will not allow you to destroy all that I have built!”

“Then you'll have to kill me. I'm not you, Father. I can't rule the way you did.” Arthur met Uther’s gaze with pained eyes. “Father, you know the pain of losing the woman you love. I have seen what that loss has done to you my entire life. Why, now, do you seek to inflict that heartbreak on your son?”

Uther shot to his feet, fury in every taut line of his ghostly body. “Camelot must come before all else. Even you.” The words sounded as if they had been torn, jagged and raw, from his throat.

Uther flung out a hand, and a shield flew from the wall, hurtling straight for Arthur’s head. Arthur was frozen in shock, having never thought his father would resort to physically attacking him.

The air around Arthur rippled with golden light as the shield struck an invisible barrier in the space around Arthur. It bounced off and rolled away harmlessly.

“Merlin,” Arthur breathed, the name unconsciously tumbling from his lips. He didn’t know what Merlin did, but knowing what they’d set out to do, he found he was not at all surprised that Merlin had cast an enchantment to ensure his safety.

Uther threw back his head, roaring in fury. “How easily you trust magic. After all the evil magic has done, you put your fate in the hands of a sorcerer. This ends now!”

Arthur’s eyes widened, and he fumbled with the horn in his grip, hastening to raise it to his lips.

He was a moment too late. Uther gifted Arthur one last sneer, then faded from the room.

Arthur whirled around, frantically searching for any sign of him. The only answer he received was the dull thunk of the bolt falling into place on the other side of the door, trapping Arthur in the throne room. Alone.

--

Merlin heard a crash in the distance.

“Arthur?” Merlin called, whirling around in the storeroom he was investigating.

Merlin listened hard, but there was no answering shout of Arthur’s voice. His fear ratcheted up, and Merlin raced out of the storeroom, pelting down the corridor in the direction he knew Arthur went in. He skidded to a stop at the end of the corridor, glancing around frantically until he caught sight of a ghostly glow, hovering just outside the throne room doors.

Heart hammering in his chest, Merlin watched as Uther turned to face him, pinning him with an icy gaze.

“What have you done with Arthur?” Merlin shouted, taking off at a run to reach Uther.

Uther leveled another cold look at him, then turned and glided away, moving too swiftly for Merlin to catch but just slowly enough for Merlin to avoid losing sight of him.

Merlin gave chase, desperate not to lose Uther again. In the back of his mind, a small voice cautioned him that this was exactly what Uther wanted. To find Merlin alone and lure him away from Arthur. Merlin shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter, he would never let Uther hurt Arthur ever again.

It wasn’t until Merlin found himself in the armory that it dawned on him that he should have paid more attention to where Uther was leading him. He turned to face Uther, meeting his gaze square on. “You’ve caused enough harm, Uther. You don’t belong here. You must return to the other world.”

“This is my kingdom! You think you can drive me from it? You, who are nothing but a filthy sorcerer, a blight on my lands!” Uther shouted, heading straight for the rack of weapons.

Merlin grimaced. He released the orb in his palm, allowing it to float above them, illuminating the armory in an eerie blue light. His magic sprang to his fingertips, yearning to flow out of him and punish the man before him for all the bloodshed he’d left in his wake.

But Merlin reined it in. He would protect himself. He had made a promise to Arthur, and he would keep it. But he would not attack Uther. “Even while you were king, there was magic at the heart of Camelot,” Merlin taunted.

Uther snatched a throwing knife from the rack and flung it at Merlin with a snarl. Merlin didn’t move, just calmly flicked it away with a thought.

Merlin felt a thrill of dark satisfaction at the way Uther flinched at the gold flash of his eyes.

“I made you Arthur’s manservant,” Uther lamented, voice shaking with fury. “And from that day, you have enchanted him, bewitched him. You have twisted his heart!”

“You are wrong, Uther,” Merlin said, only the twitch of his fingers betraying the cold fury building inside of him. “You are wrong about so much. Arthur is a better and more worthy king than you ever were.”

Weapon after weapon flew at Merlin – knives, swords, arrows, even several axes. Merlin deflected each with ease, allowing his magic to rip free of him, gleefully thwarting the man who had been so undeserving of Merlin’s protection, but that Merlin had saved time and time again.

“You have turned my own son against me,” Uther spat, even as the weapons continued to fly, a wild manic gleam entering his eyes.

“I have done no such thing,” Merlin snarled, flinging out a hand and conjuring a glittering golden shield. “You have let your hatred blind you to all else. You have even let it override your love for your only son. You have left so many scars, Uther Pendragon, but I will allow it no longer! Everything I have ever done, yes, even including saving your miserable life, I have done for Arthur. I love him more than anything, and I will always protect him above all else. Even from the likes of you.”

Merlin balled his hands into fists to prevent his magic from exploding out of him. In his fury, he allowed his shield to fizzle out. Uther roared and took advantage of Merlin’s moment of distraction to pick up a spear and throw it at Merlin.

It was a lucky strike, the perfect moment where Merlin had not yet registered that his shield had dropped. When the spear flew through the air – closer, closer – Merlin’s eyes widened, and he instinctively shied to the side, the spear slicing through his robes and yanking him back with its momentum.

The spear thudded into the wood, and Merlin gasped as his back hit the wall. A quick glance down told him he was pinned to the wall.

For a moment, he felt like a nineteen-year-old boy again, stood in front of the King of Camelot, facing down certain execution for the crime of sorcery. The moment of fear paralyzed him. He could only watch as Uther picked up a sword and started towards him, a triumphant gleam in his eye.

“It will give me great pleasure killing you.”

--

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, running for the bolted double doors and slamming his fists into them.

He heard a muffled shout on the other side of the door. He strained to hear, it sounded like Merlin’s voice.

“Father!” Arthur shouted again, pounding his fists raw on the wooden doors. “It’s me you want, come back here and face me!”

Arthur rammed his shoulder into the doors again and again, even as he knew it was futile. The doors were not going to open.

But Arthur had to try.

Arthur threw himself against the doors, his hope soaring with every rattle of the hinges, then falling each time the doors did nothing more than creak and groan.

He had been foolish to not even bring a sword. If nothing else, he would have been afforded the chance to try and saw through the bolt on the other side of the door.

Arthur screamed and shouted, resorting to kicking, punching, and finally begging for the doors to open. It was as if his prayers had been answered when finally, he heard the sound of the bolt sliding from the door.

The doors flew open, and Arthur staggered out into the corridor.

Elyan and Gwaine stood on the other side, their faces pale and drawn. Arthur had no time for explanations, simply drew in a few gulps of air, then raced down the corridor in the direction he thought he’d heard Merlin’s footsteps running toward.

As he ran, Arthur’s blood ran cold as he deduced where Uther had likely been headed.

The armory.

He wanted to kill Merlin, after all.

Arthur ran faster. Faster than he’d ever run in his life.

Arthur burst into the armory, gasping for air, just in time to see Uther throw a spear that pinned Merlin against the wall.

“It will give me great pleasure killing you.”

Arthur was already in motion, raising the Horn of Cathbhadh high above his head. “Father!”

Uther swung around in disbelief, Arthur’s appearance sufficiently distracting to stop him from bringing his sword down on Merlin. “Arthur… no. Please – whatever I have done, I’ve done for Camelot.”

Each word from Uther was like a fresh wound on Arthur’s heart. But for the first time in his life, Arthur knew with startling clarity that he neither needed nor wanted his father’s approval.

“You’ve had your turn. Now it’s mine,” Arthur said. As the finality of his decision sank in around him, Arthur lowered the horn to his lips and blew, giving Uther no chance to protest further.

The last sight Arthur had of his father was Uther gazing at him scornfully, sword raised at the ready. Uther painted a picture full of pride, arrogance, and ruthlessness, just as he had been in life. For once, Arthur accepted that, watching his father’s ghost dissipate into glowing pale smoke, unsure if the way the edges of his form blurred was due to his father’s banishment or his own tears.

Arthur staggered to Merlin’s side, yanking out the spear with a vicious tug. They ended up in a tangle on the floor, neither sure if Arthur had fallen into Merlin’s arms, or if Merlin had fallen into Arthur’s. They remained in their position as the moments ticked by, silent – Arthur terrified for Merlin’s safety, and Merlin terrified for Arthur’s heart.

It was in a wordless exchange that Arthur and Merlin agreed to pull themselves to their feet and began the slow march back to their chambers, arms slung around each other’s waists. Neither was entirely sure who was supporting who.

Outside the armory, Elyan and Gwaine were waiting, turning worried faces toward them as soon as they emerged.

Arthur didn’t know how much they saw, didn’t care. But judging by the looks on their faces, it was likely enough to understand what had transpired. To alleviate any doubt, Arthur waved the arm not around Merlin tiredly. “It’s done. Leave us.”

Once safely ensconced in their chambers, Arthur and Merlin collapsed onto the bed, leaning on each other still, hands clutching desperately at a tunic or an arm, at once unwilling and too scared to let go.

“Are you all right?” Arthur whispered, his voice breaking on the last word.

“Yes,” Merlin breathed, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m safe, Arthur. Your father didn’t touch me.”

Arthur’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank the gods,” Arthur said, his voice a half-sob. “If I was a moment too late – “

“Shh,” Merlin soothed, a hand coming up to rub at the back of Arthur’s neck in gentle circles. “You weren’t. And even if you were, I made you a promise, didn’t I? I would have protected myself.”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the image from his mind of Merlin staring up at his father as Uther raised a sword over his head.

“Are you all right?” Merlin asked softly.

Arthur's answering laugh was hollow. “Yes. No. What’s the right answer here?”

“There isn’t one,” Merlin said ruefully. “Whatever is on your mind. Tell me.”

“All my life, I’ve looked up to my father,” Arthur said, the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “I admired and respected him more than anyone. But today, I didn’t see the man I’ve aspired to be. I saw a cold and ruthless tyrant who would stop at nothing to wrest back control.”

“Arthur…”

“No,” Arthur said harshly. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong. You know that I’m not. Is that the man I’ve bent over backwards for time and time again? Is it, Merlin?”

Merlin bit his lip. “Your father is more than just the man you saw today. You must know that.”

Arthur deflated slightly. “That makes it worse. Once, I know that he was the man I hoped to be. There were even times when that man would shine through despite everything. But the rest of the time, he was exactly what I saw today.”

Merlin kept silent. Arthur glanced at him, his lips curling into a sad, regretful smile.

“What does it say about me that his disappointment still cuts me like a knife?” Arthur asked quietly.

He didn’t know if he wanted Merlin to answer or not. He just knew he felt like a lost little boy, clutching at the hem of his father’s court robes, that he hadn’t been for years. By the quiet heartbreak in Merlin’s eyes, Arthur suspected that he could tell.

Merlin cupped Arthur’s face between his palms and gently tilted his head until he was looking into Merlin’s eyes. “It means that, even after everything that has happened, you still have room in your heart for love. That was something your father closed himself off to, something you would never do. Arthur, it is your love for your friends and your people that will make you a great king. It is that love that will guide you to make decisions both with your heart and your head, that will never allow you to make the ruthless decisions your father made that brought such pain to this kingdom.”

Arthur brought a hand up to his face to clutch at one of Merlin’s. “How is it that even in my darkest moments, you still know the right thing to say?”

Merlin smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Arthur tugged Merlin’s hands into his lap and pulled him close, pressing a kiss just beneath each eye.

“It’s because I believe in you,” Merlin said. “That has never, and will never, change. You will be a great king, Arthur. A far greater and kinder king than your father ever was. And I’m proud of you for that.”

Arthur felt a warmth spread through him at those words. The words he’d always longed to hear from his father, but that he would never be granted. The words that Merlin gave so freely, with such conviction that Arthur couldn’t help but believe.

“I have to accept that I can’t please him and be true to myself at the same time,” Arthur said, giving voice to the thought that he’d been suppressing for years.

Merlin didn’t speak, simply gazed back at him with unwavering affection and support shining in his eyes.

Arthur gazed back, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, the last dark weight of his father’s expectations. For the first time, Arthur felt free to be his own man, one who no longer needed to bow to Uther’s shadow.

“I want to build a kingdom that is fair and just. One where everyone is respected and has a voice, regardless of rank, regardless of what they can or cannot do.”

Merlin smiled, raising Arthur’s hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of each one in turn. “Then that is what we will do,” Merlin promised.

Arthur’s answering smile was weary but bright with possibilities. For in Merlin’s eyes, he could see the man that he wanted to be – a man that was a thousand times the man Uther wanted him to be.