Chapter Text
Merlin was crossing the courtyard one morning, running an errand for Gaius, minding his own business, when a voice called out to him.
“Help me!”
Mordred.
“Please! Help me!”
Merlin ducked into a doorway before he could think about it and scanned the area for the boy.
“Can you hear me?”
“Yes. Help me.”
“I will. When I tell you, I want you to run over to me, can you do that?”
“Yes.”
Merlin watched the guards moving around the courtyard and carefully timed a distraction before calling Mordred over to him. He carefully led the boy through the castle to Morgana’s chambers and pulled him inside without knocking.
“Merlin!” Fortunately she wasn’t doing anything indecent. “What is the meaning of this?”
“I need your help. This is the druid boy they’re looking for. Please, Morgana. I know you hate Uther’s blind hatred as much as I do.”
She looked between them, her face a complicated mix of understanding and concern.
There was a pounding from the hall, the guards getting closer, and Merlin opened his mouth to beg her …
“Back here.” She whispered, gesturing. “Quickly.”
Merlin pulled the boy into the alcove behind a changing screen and held his breath while Morgana blustered away the guards. Normally, declaring sympathy for an escaped Druid and announcing that “if I did know where he is, I’d be helping him stay away from you” in a kingdom run by Uther Pendragon would be asking for the pyre, but this was Morgana. She was the king’s ward and had a reputation. It only took a moment for the guard at the door to decide she was a conundrum he didn’t want to deal with today.
After the door closed, there was a long, tense moment of silence before Morgana appeared around the screen.
“He can’t stay here.” She looked concerned.
“No. I know. I just hoped … I’ve heard you speak against Uther’s purge. I hoped … I didn’t know where else to take him.”
She gave him an uncomfortable look before pulling a kind smile onto her face and crouching in front of Mordred. “My name’s Morgana. You’re safe here. At least for now. Can you tell me your name?”
Mordred glanced between her and Merlin before saying his name in Merlin’s mind.
“He says his name is Mordred.”
“How did you…?”
“Druids are able to talk to each other in their minds. That’s how I found him in the courtyard.”
She looked at Merlin in shock. “You’re a Druid?”
Merlin scratched his head. “Um, no. I’m … They have a prophecy about me. Me and Arthur, actually. It’s …” and here was another reason to help Mordred again. “Mordred? Can I see your arm? I'm not going to hurt you.”
The boy studied him for a long moment before shifting enough to uncover the cut on his arm. Merlin smiled at him and put his hand over the cut. The first time he was here, Merlin was barely learning to use his magic. He hadn’t had a reason yet to learn healing spells. (And he’d been hiding from Morgana.) This time, he murmured the single word that gathered his magic and wove it into the wound to bind together the broken flesh.
Beside him, Morgana gasped. “You have magic.”
Merlin turned to let her see the gold fade from his eyes. “I do. It’s my destiny to protect Arthur, to help him become the greatest king Albion has ever known.”
Arthur leaned against his throne, observing as his father held court and carefully biting his tongue every time he disagreed with a decision. A group of guards dragged in a man dressed in Druid robes. There was an accusation and a verdict while the man pleaded his innocence to deaf ears.
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but forced himself to silence again. It was too early to speak against Uther. He couldn’t until he knew Merlin was on his side. So he turned and left the throne room through the back door and let his silence speak for him.
He couldn’t say what triggered his memory, but several minutes later he realized the boy they were looking for was Mordred. And the man Uther had just condemned was his guardian.
Was this the event that led to Mordred’s betrayal? If Arthur saved Mordred’s guardian, would that keep the boy from one day turning against him?
Arthur paused to consider.
There was a Druid in the dungeon set to be executed at dawn. There was another Druid with either Merlin or Morgana who he captured trying to escape tonight. If Arthur let Mordred’s escape happen how it did last time, Mordred might still kill him. If Arthur did nothing, the guards would sooner or later find Mordred and carry out Uther’s orders to execute the boy. Mordred would never get the chance to betray them, but neither would he become Arthur’s friend. And who could say whether Merlin or Morgana might be caught and executed as well. If both Mordred and his guardian escaped, Uther would be furious and someone would pay the price. Would it be Arthur or Morgana or Merlin who caught Uther’s anger? Would it be the people of Camelot, most of whom knew nothing of what was happening? Would it be the Druids? Would Uther send Arthur and his knights to slaughter …
Arthur swallowed against the memory that nearly overcame him, the encampment when he was 16 and the ghosts just a few years ago. He would just have to warn the Druids to run.
Because Arthur already knew what his decision was. He couldn’t turn against Mordred any more than he could Morgana. He would not execute his people for crimes they had not yet committed.
In which case, he needed a plan.
Over the years, quite a few people had escaped from Camelot’s dungeons. After Merlin’s confession, Arthur was fairly certain his idiot manservant had a hand in it, but Merlin was still new to Camelot. He hadn’t time yet to learn all the hidden ways into or out of the castle, so Arthur would have to give him a clue. He would need to tell Morgana not to take Mordred through the streets, and one of them would have to get Mordred’s guardian (the man must have a name, but Uther hadn’t even asked that much of him). And Arthur couldn’t be directly involved because he had to lead his knights to do the one job he hated more than any other that Uther assigned him: search the town for whomever was hiding the sorcerer.
With a new sense of determination, Arthur made his way through the castle to Morgana’s chambers. There was a long silence after he knocked before the door opened and Morgana leaned against the frame, her face pulling into a slightly mocking smile.
“Arthur. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Arthur nodded his head in greeting. “Morgana. The King has ordered me to search all of Camelot for the missing Druid boy.”
“Of course he has. I suppose he intends to—“
“Morgana.”
“What?”
“I’ve come to ask you a favor.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”
“You see, I’ve asked Merlin to organize the armory as it’s gotten a bit of a mess, but I’m afraid the idiot can’t tell the difference between a mace and a morningstar. In truth, I’d be surprised if he even knew which end of a sword to hold. Since I’ll have the knights and most of the guard otherwise occupied, I was hoping you might help him out.”
Morgana’s expression turned thoughtful. “You want me to spend the evening helping your manservant organize the armory?”
“Precisely. While I lead my men through town and harass anyone who might be hiding the boy.” He let his voice show how much he hated that idea. “I don’t expect the boy to make it far without his guardian.”
She hesitated, hopefully hearing what Arthur wasn’t saying. “What happened to the guardian?”
“Uther has ordered his execution. He’s spending his last night in the dungeons, of course.”
“Of course.” She grinned, then. “So what will you give me in exchange for babysitting your manservant?”
Arthur let himself be flustered. “What will I give you?”
“That’s what I said. If I’m to give up my evening for you, I expect something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you could convince the King to allow me to train with one of your knights.”
“You know he’ll never agree to that.”
She shrugged. “You could always find another task for your manservant and organize the armory yourself. It is your responsibility after all.”
Arthur sighed in annoyance. “Fine! I’ll talk to him, but you know as well as I do what the answer will be.”
“Just do your best. I’m sure you could find some way to convince him.”
Arthur turned to leave but paused. “Oh. You’ll need the key to the armory.” He took the key ring from his belt and carefully removed a specific key. “Make sure to return this in the morning or Uther will have me skinned alive.”
Morgana accepted it. “I’ll remember.”
Arthur’s next task was to track down said idiot manservant—which, as usual, took significantly longer than it should have—and drag him to the armory.
“I want this place sparkling before you go to bed tonight.” He announced. “Morgana will meet you here to make sure you do it right because I have to go search for that missing druid.”
Merlin … sagged at something he said. “Yes, Sire.”
“Good. Just make sure you don’t put anything in front of this shield.” Arthur made sure Merlin saw how to unlatch the shield to reveal the escape tunnel behind it. “It can only be opened with a key, and the other end is blocked by a grate, but it needs to remain accessible.”
Merlin looked confused, but smiled. “I think I can manage that.”
“Good. Now.” He led Merlin back out of the armory and locked it with the key on his belt before removing the key and holding it threateningly towards his manservant. “Make sure this door stays locked when you’re not in there, and if anyone finds out you have one of my keys, you will spend the next week in the stocks. Got it?”
Merlin, for some unfathomable reason, grinned. “Are you threatening me with a key?”
Arthur scowled, reminded almost painfully of another conversation when he threatened Merlin with a spoon. “Do you understand?”
Merlin tried to hide the smile, but it lingered in his eyes. “I understand.”
“Excellent. In the meantime, I believe you have chores to be doing, and I have a child to hunt. He likely won’t get far without his guardian.”
Arthur was acting differently. Sure, there had been little things for months now, conversations (about magic!) that hadn’t happened the first time, but this? Merlin knew for certain that Arthur had not said anything about the secret tunnel from the armory until after he caught Morgana trying to sneak Mordred out of the city, and she then begged him to help. This time, it was almost like he knew they were hiding him and already had a plan. On top of that, Arthur’s last comment about Mordred’s guardian made it sound like he wanted to get both Druid’s out of the city tonight.
Merlin tried not to think about it as he went about his day, but that had never been one of his strengths. He ran from one chore to another, dropped things, crashed into other servants, and once almost fell down a flight of stairs because his mind was caught up in why Arthur would do something so different.
The only thing Merlin could think of was that Morgana must have talked to him early (which made as much sense as Arthur changing things on his own).
When Merlin eventually finished his normal chores and made it to the armory, Morgana was already there, struggling with the door.
“Hang on. I have —”
She jumped, turning quickly and bringing a hand up in front of her. “Merlin. You startled me.”
“Sorry about that. May I?”
She gestured to the door, a different key already in the lock. “Go ahead, but I think Arthur gave me the wrong key.”
Well that was puzzling.
He pulled the key out and handed it back to her. “I imagine that’s because this is the correct key.”
The door opened easily, just as it had for Arthur earlier, and Mogara followed him into the armory.
“Why would he give me the wrong key then? What key did he give me?”
As she spoke, Merlin’s eyes fell on the shield covering the secret door. He crossed the room to uncover the door how Arthur had shown him. “Maybe here?”
Morgana gave him a considering look before trying the key in the lock. It fit, and the door opened with a metallic screech.
“Did you plan this?”
“I was thinking you must have. I hadn’t seen him since I took his breakfast up this morning, and then he brought me down here and showed me this door.”
“Do you think it’s a trap? He could be waiting at the other end with all his knights to arrest us all when just as we think we’ve escaped.”
That was a reasonable fear. It was absolutely something Uther would do.
“Does Arthur seem … cunning to you?”
Morgana sagged. “No. I’ve always hoped Arthur would be a better man than his father. Perhaps this is his way of proving he is.”
“I trust him. Do you?”
She was quiet for a long minute before speaking. “Yes. He wouldn’t hurt a child. Magic or no.”
She locked the door closed again and moved to the rack of swords, picking through them before taking one to a small open area in the middle of the room.
“Get to work.”
“Yes, My Lady.” And Merlin began sorting through the racks of weapons, checking for sharpness and damage, setting aside any in need of repair and organizing those in good condition.
Morgana, meanwhile, worked her blade through familiar forms and patterns. There was little room for footwork, but even Merlin could see she was more skilled than many of the noble sons who came through hoping for a knighthood.
Eventually, darkness fell and the castle went silent around them. With only a few words, they parted ways and Merlin headed for the dungeons. As he walked, Merlin sent a silent prayer to whatever entity had given him this second chance that everything would go smoothly for them both.
Merlin’s task went easily enough. The few soldiers he saw were quickly distracted by guttering torches or rattling door latches. When he reached the dungeons, a whispered spell put the two guards to sleep and Merlin lifted the key ring from one of their belts without even crossing the room. Only one of the cells was occupied, the man roughly the age Merlin had been before coming back in time, dressed in the familiar greys and browns of the Druids.
“Are you Mordred’s guardian?”
The man looked at him in surprise. “Emrys? You have my apprentice?”
“He’s with a friend. Come. I’m getting you out of here.” Merlin inserted a key into the lock, but it didn’t turn.
“But the guards … ”
“They’re asleep. We should be fine.” He tried again with a different key.
“If Uther finds out …”
Merlin sighed in frustration and tried a new key. “He won’t.” The next key finally worked and the door swung open. “We have to hurry. Come on.”
The Druid moved finally, but paused in the open door. “Why are you helping me?”
Merlin seriously considered that, but the answer was so obvious. “Because my King, the Once and Future King, told me to.”
Apparently it was enough of an answer for the elder man, too, because he quit arguing and silently followed Merlin through the castle to the armory.
Morgana was already back, sword in hand again, though she lowered it as they entered.
Merlin’s companion went very still at the sight of her. Merlin pushed him into the room so he could close the door behind them.
“Where’s Mordred?”
She gestured towards the shield. “I thought he would be safer out of sight.”
“Probably wise. Did you want to come with us? Or stay here in case anyone comes by?”
“I’ll stay here. I can distract anyone who might show up.”
“Thank you. Come on.” He added to the Druid, and led him to the hidden tunnel entrance.
When he climbed through, Merlin didn’t see Mordred initially, but when he conjured a blue light into his hand, the boy’s shape resolved from the shadows.
“Cerdan!”
The older Druid, Cerdan apparently, crouched and took Mordred by the shoulders. “Hey. Are you alright?”
“Yes. Emrys took care of me.”
Cerdan looked up at Merlin with that same wonder and devotion that always made him squirm. Maybe if he told Arthur, his King would teach him how to react to such things.
“We should get going.” He said instead and headed off down the tunnel.
The tunnel was narrow and rough-hewn. It sloped slowly but clearly away from Camelot, and ran in a nearly-straight line. It should have been a fairly easy route, but both Druids were clearly tired. It had been a long, stressful day for both of them. Cerdan likely hadn’t eaten anything since they left their camp that morning, and Mordred, despite Merlin’s healing, was still recovering from his injury.
The journey took longer than crossing the lower town on a busy market day with Arthur’s full entourage, but eventually Merlin spotted the faint silver-blue of moonlight on birch. A few minutes later, the grate became visible and the tunnel ended.
“What now? Does this open?”
“Give me a moment.”
Merlin reached for his magic to look ahead and explored the forest around them for any signs of people. The woods were empty. He wrapped his magic around the metal bars and shoved. The noise felt deafening in the still night air, but there were no shouts of alarm that followed it.
“Can you make it on your own? I need to get back before someone notices.”
“Yes. We can find our way from here. Thank you, Emrys.”
Merlin tried not to squirm. “It was nothing.”
Cerdan looked like he wanted to argue, but he merely nodded (or bowed, really. That nod was definitely more of a bow.) and led Mordred away from the tunnel.
Merlin watched them disappear into the trees and waited a bit longer before pulling the grate back into place. He gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. Then he turned and began the walk back to the castle and his bed that he never saw enough of.
Arthur woke to the familiar double shock of bright sunlight and Merlin’s equally cheerful voice flooding his chambers and chasing away any illusion of peace. He grumbled and pulled a pillow over his head.
“Come on, Arthur. Rise and shine.”
The pillow was pulled away from his head, and Arthur turned to grab it back. He froze when his eyes fell on Merlin’s face. He looked so young. He was smiling.
Arthur had forgotten for a moment that he was in the past.
“Good morning, Sire.” His smile looked a little forced.
“What time is the execution supposed to happen?”
Merlin let his smile fall. “Cerdan was missing when the guards changed at dawn. The king has requested your presence after you’ve eaten.”
That was almost as bad as waking to an undead army on their doorstep.
“Thank you, Merlin.”
“Don’t worry. Your keys were all in their box when I came in this morning. No one could possibly think you were involved.”
Arthur sat up grudgingly. “Is my breakfast ready?”
Merlin hesitated like he wanted to say something, but then swallowed it. “Yes, Sire.”
“Find my clothes. Then get on with your chores.”
Arthur’s day went exactly how he expected it to. The King ranted at him and complained of the uselessness of the castle guards. He ordered Arthur to search for the missing man, and the city wasn’t enough for him this time. Arthur had to gather his men and search the surrounding area for a Druid encampment to terrorize.
He didn’t take Merlin with him or tell him he was leaving. After waking up and forgetting that this Merlin wasn’t his Merlin, and then his frustration at being stuck under his father’s rule again, Arthur just needed some space from everything. Maybe he was punishing himself. Maybe he was punishing Merlin.
He led his men through the forests around Camelot for two weeks, occasionally stopping a peasant to ask if they knew of any Druids in the area. Of course, none of them did. So he led his men back home and got lectured by the King for being incompetent and an unworthy heir.
Shockingly, when Arthur finally returned to his chambers, there was a hot bath waiting. He gratefully stripped and sank into the water.
“Feeling relaxed, Sire?” There was something … mocking or annoyed in Merlin’s tone.
Arthur decided to ignore it. “Yes. Thank you.”
There was a short silence. Arthur imagined Merlin gaping at him like a fish.
His amusement was interrupted by a sharp cuff upside his head.
He turned to face Merlin as best he could in the tub. “What was that for? I said thank you.”
“You did. But you also disappeared on me for two weeks. Do you know how hard it is to do my job when I don’t know where you are? You could have died and I’d have no idea. And then where would I be?”
Arthur stared at him for a moment. It wasn’t the first time Merlin had scolded him for something, but it was probably the first time Arthur really knew what he was saying. Merlin was here in Camelot, where his very existence was illegal. He would stay by Arthur’s side for the next ten years, despite all the reasons he had to leave. Did this Merlin already care about him?
“Alright. Next time I’ll give you a list of chores before I go hunting Druids at my father’s command.”
“At least so I know you’re gone.” He tried to smile, but it slipped and he looked away from Arthur. “Did you find any?”
“I did everything in my power not to.”
Merlin swallowed. “Were you successful?”
“Yes.”
Merlin relaxed fractionally. “Good.”
There was a long silence between them before Arthur settled more comfortably into the tub. He heard Merlin come kneel behind him. (The first time Arthur made Merlin wash him had gone much the same as it did the first time around.)
Arthur let the silence sit a while longer, but the ache in his chest had not lessened.
“It has become clear to me that I will never be the man my father expects me to be. And I will not become the king he wants me to be.”
Merlin paused in his washing for a moment before saying softly, “No. But you will be the kind of king Camelot deserves, and the kind of man people will willingly follow.”
Arthur let the words sit for a moment. Once again, Merlin had shocked Arthur with his wisdom. And his devotion.
Arthur didn’t squirm; because he was a prince. But he did change the subject. “And what did you do for two weeks without me?”
“Gaius made me memorize an entire anatomy book and scrub every inch of his workshop.”
“So you had it easy, then.”