Chapter Text
“You bumptious, churlish, imbecileic excuse for a fairy kingdom! If you don’t answer me this instant you’re going to wish you’d never discovered a way to cross into this realm!”
Arthur couldn’t say that was the first thing he expected when he emerged from the magical portal disguised as a lake that had existed in his kingdom for who knows how long, but the sight of his manservant standing ankle deep in water shouting at a bunch of grassy reads and one disinterested frog did make for an entertaining picture.
“How many times do I have to tell you Merlin, the secret to a good threat is using actual words. No one is going to be intimidated by your more creative vocabulary.”
He had just enough time to register the comically wide eyed expression on Merlin’s face before the other man’s embrace about knocked him flat on his back. He steadied the two of them at the last second and Merlin pulled back as suddenly as he’d rushed forward grabbing hold of Arthur’s shoulders.
He squeezed them hard, eyes silently raking in every detail of Arthur’s face, right hand wandering urgently over the king, first to his neck then to his chest as if counting heartbeats. He then nervously parted the broken chain mail at Arthur’s side to see the pink scar that was all that remained of the sword wound. Arthur allowed it all, squeezing the trembling hand reassuringly when it finally stilled, and waited quietly as the other man looked away and then back several times as if to reassure himself this wasn’t some dream.
Finally reality sunk in and Merlin let out the saddest laugh Arthur’s ever heard. His face said he wanted nothing more than to collapse in the king’s arms once again but was holding back for fear of rejection. A tortured moment of indecision passed before Arthur took pity on the man, closing the distance between them and pulling him into a tight embrace. Really, after everything he’d just learned, a hug was the least of what Merlin deserved.
Merlin clung to him with a surprising amount of strength but Arthur didn’t comment, focusing on holding his friend close in a display of tenderness that would be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that he suspected it was the only thing keeping the other man upright. The telltale wetness seeping into his collar lent credence to that assumption.
It was briefly tempting but he knew the tears - if that’s what they were - were nothing to joke about. His friend did believe him dead after all. And whether it was a result of learning the truth, an aftereffect of the healing done on him or just the relief that for now the worst was over, Arthur’s own emotions were less than steady.
After a long moment he allowed his hand, which had been resting comfortingly on Merlin’s head, to drift down to the back of his neck. Tracing a finger over the faint scar there, in exactly the place he’d been told it would be, he nodded once to himself. Grasping his servant by the shoulders, Arthur gently pulled him back.
“Merlin,” he said softly, trying to look him in the eye. “It’s alright.”
“You’re alive...I.. I thought..” more tears spilled down the other man’s cheeks and he hastily wiped them away.
‘I know, I’m sorry.”
Merlin made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sniff. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”
More than I ever imagined.’ But a more pressing thought escaped him. “Why are you back here?”
“Back here?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been here the whole time? I mean yes technically you could do whatever you wanted with those two days off - or two weeks off, or whatever it was - but spending them here is rather a waste don’t you think?”
The attempt at humor falls flat as Merlin’s bewildered expression only increases.
“Two weeks?” He repeated, appearing genuinely lost. “Arthur, you’ve been gone less than 10 minutes.”
“No it can’t be... I was, they...” Arthur shook his head and turned away from the lake. “Never mind, we can talk about it back in Camelot.” He made it halfway to the treeline before noticing Merlin hadn’t moved. “You coming?”
Merlin blinked at him. “You want to go back to...that is you want me..”
Arthur rolled his eyes, deliberately arrogant. “It’s hard to respond to incomplete questions Merlin, but I think the answers are ‘Of course I want to return to Camelot’, and ‘Yes I want you to come back with me.’ Unless something has happened that I’m unaware of, it’s still my kingdom and it’s still your home. And I’d like it to stay that way, wouldn’t you?”
Merlin’s stunned expression didn’t change as he gave a shaky nod in reply, his usual voluminous word flow completely dried up. Fortunately Arthur had a general idea of what he wanted to say, enough to make him reverse direction and pull him close once again. “It’s going to be alright, idiot,” he murmured, unable to stop a fond smile from forming on his lips.
The smile faded however as the king’s attention passed to his surroundings for the first time. Or more specifically, the other occupant of the glade they’re standing in.
“Merlin?” he asked quietly, unable to stop himself from tensing.
“Yes?”
“I’m not angry about it at the moment. Truly. But would you care to explain just what, exactly, a massive, very much alive dragon, is doing standing within twenty feet of us?”
Merlin stiffened and slipped from his arms. Taking a step or two back he glanced over his shoulder. Then back at Arthur. Then back toward the other.
“In your own time Merlin.”
Scratching his head the manservant gave a sort of helpless shrug and answered, “If I’m not mistaken he appears to be gaping in disbelief Sire.”
Indeed the dragon’s jaw could not have hung any lower had it become unhinged. With eyes as large as dinner plates it surveyed the king and dragonlord, at last giving a slow blink as if coming back to itself. A deep chuckle sounded from its throat prompting Arthur to grab a handful of Merlin’s jacket and shove the other man behind him.
“He won’t hurt you” Merlin protested, a series of exasperated and indignant noises coming from him as he tried to break Arthur’s hold.
“I wasn’t worried,” Arthur answered back, a touch indignant himself.
“Oh this is beyond what even I could have predicted.” A voice responded before Merlin did. The dragon’s tone was deep and rich and held none of the malice or evil Arthur had been raised to believe it would. Instead it seemed almost...happy. Resting a hand on his sword’s hilt - better to be safe than sorry - he took a small step forward studying the beast curiously.
The dragon’s lips curled up in what he guessed was a smile as Arthur approached it.
“Honestly I admit I am speechless,” it said - obviously not completely speechless. “When I told the young Warlock of the destiny entwining the two of you this was not the outcome I had foreseen.”
“Surprised are you?” Merlin spoke up, sounding more bitter than Arthur had ever heard him. “So all that stuff you were just spouting about how he was destined to die didn’t quite pan out. Whatever are you going to do?”
“Your anger is more at yourself then it is me Young Warlock,” the dragon’s demeanor was unruffled. “I warned you many times was likely to occur if you did not follow my counsel. It is not my fault you could not follow through.”
“Tried to follow through twice. Unfortunately we mere humans balk at murdering people over something they might do.”
“You are far from being a mere human Merlin. I think even Arthur can see that now. Perhaps it is not too late for your destiny after all.”
Merlin’s expression morphed from moderately resentful to downright furious. “I’ll tell you what you can do with my destiny you overgrown garden lizard! If you think-”
“Enough!” Arthur snapped, surprising both dragon and dragonlord into silence. “It’s obvious there is much to discuss and argue over. Not the least of which is what you,” he gave the dragon a pointed look and ignored Merlin’s cringe, “are still doing in the realm of the living. But too much has happened lately and I very much would like to inform my kingdom and my wife that I am still here. Despite whatever destiny seems to think I shouldn’t be. So if you’ll excuse us..”
Turning his back deliberately on the dragon, he grabbed his servant and gave him a shove towards the forest that would lead them home.
Midday had come and gone and they were still a fair distance away from the city, pushing both men into adopting a hurried pace despite the fact adrenaline had long since worn off and the effects of the last few days were setting in. But the speed did have the benefit (at least in Arthur’s mind) of forcing them to save their breath for walking and only talk if it were critically important. As such the first part of their journey passed in almost total silence.
Eventually Arthur couldn’t help but notice the way Merlin turned to glance at him every so often. He was purposely trailing behind the younger man, taking advantage of his first clear headed and pain free opportunity to study him. He couldn’t help but marvel a little at what he saw. It’s become clear what his friend is capable of, and Arthur’s been told some (not all by far) of what he’s sacrificed for the sake of Camelot and her king, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. He may have more power than any sorcerer living or dead - and truthfully Arthur had little basis for comparison - but he still just looked like well... Merlin.
As if on cue the man in question half turned as if to say something and promptly tripped over a tree root in his path. He blushed furiously when the king caught his elbow to keep him from falling and (knowing it was what was needed) Arthur rolled his eyes and gave him a good-natured shove when he recovered his balance. A tiny smile formed on the other man’s lips but he stayed quiet.
They moved on and while Merlin didn’t protest Arthur’s retained grip on his arm, the glances he sent the king became more frequent and the curiosity in his expression slowly bled into anxiousness. Finally it occurred to Arthur that his friend might be afraid he was being kept in sight for a whole other reason.
“You’re not under arrest Merlin,” he promised in as soothing a tone as he could manage.
“No?”
“No! Not now, not ever.”
“Oh.” Merlin looked at him curiously, “Why the hand then?”
“I’m just..” Arthur stopped walking and waited for Merlin to do the same. “You keep turning around like you’re afraid I’ll disappear when you’re not looking. I thought if I kept a hand on you you’d -” he stopped, shifting unsurely from foot to foot. “I’m just letting you know I’m still here.”
Merlin swallowed, blinking quickly. “Thank you.” It was barely a whisper but Arthur understood the depth those words carried.
Ruffling the other’s hair indulgently he laughed when Merlin fell in with the change of mood and tried to push him off. “Come on, we have a ways to go still.”
By the time the castle came into view Arthur’s steps were dragging and Merlin had to brace him with an arm around his shoulders as they descended the last hill to the path leading to town.
Catching his muttered words of surprise over the exhaustion Merlin informed him, “Your body has been through a trauma Arthur. Magical healing aside, it will need to recover. You need to be prepared to be tired for awhile still.”
With that fact in mind, Arthur directed him along the outskirts of town to enter the citadel via a side gate closest to the royal chambers. It felt criminal sneaking into his own castle, the people of Camelot needed to see their king alive and well, but Arthur didn’t have near enough energy to give them the triumphant return they deserve to see. A proper public appearance would just have to wait until after he’d seen Guinevere, checked on the status of the kingdom, and taken a nap. In whatever order those things chose to present themselves in.
They’d made it to the hallway just outside his room, Arthur now leaning more than half his weight on his servant’s ever present shoulders, when said servant abruptly jerked them to the side narrowly avoiding a collision with someone rushing along from the opposite direction.
“Whoa, watch where you’re- Gaius!” Merlin’s eager grin quickly faded as he took in the look on his mentor’s face.
Arthur noticed it too and drew himself up, reducing his hold on Merlin to a hand on his arm. “What is it Gaius?”
“My lord, forgive me.” The physician gave a shallow bow and stepped forward to examine him. “It’s good to see you on your feet. Are you well, when did you return?”
Arthur waved him off. “Never mind me, what is it? Is the queen well?”
“She’s fine Sire, I was just coming to inform her majesty of Sir Gwaine’s condition.”
“Sir Gwaine? Was he injured in the battle?”
“What happened to him?”
“Ah no.” Gaius answered the king’s question first. “His injuries were incurred after we returned to Camelot. It’s my understanding that he and Sir Percival attempted an attack on Morgana and she caught them. Percival suffered nothing worse than a blow to the head, he should recover in a day or two. Gwaine…”
"What Gaius?” Arthur asked urgently.
The old man sighed, his face haggard and sad. “He was tortured Sire. The work of the Nathier serpent if I’m not mistaken.”
The name meant nothing to Arthur but Merlin’s recognition of it was clear from the way the other man sucked in a pained breath, growing paler by the minute.
“Can anything be done for him?” the king asked.
“I’m doing my best, but I’m afraid the chances of survival for those who fall prey to as much of the serpent’s venom as he did are not reassuring.”
Arthur turned to Merlin without hesitation. “Is there anything you can do to improve those chances?” he asked, surprised at the lack of hesitation the idea caused. Whether it was due to the urgency of the situation, or whether this was how it should have been all along, he couldn’t say. Either way he was grateful when Merlin met his look with one of determination.
“There might be,” he said slowly, testing.
“Then go,” Arthur released his grip and nodded him forward. “Both of you, I mean it.” He looked at Merlin intently. “Whatever it takes.”
Merlin stared at him a moment longer then flashed a grim smile and took off at a jog, a puzzled but unquestioning Gaius following after him.
The sun had long since set by the time Arthur made his way to Gaius chambers to check on his knight and his sorcerer. No that wasn’t right. He hardly deserved to call Merlin his - be it sorcerer, friend, or anything else.
Said friend looked up immediately as the door opened, his relief to see his king so obvious that Arthur had to resist the urge to apologize for not being there sooner. It was pointless to explain all the things he’d had to do - Merlin knew them already and it’s clear they were meaningless to him. He was just grateful Arthur was there now.
“How is he?” the king asked softly not wanting to pull Gwaine from what appeared - at least to his untrained eye - to be a restful sleep.
Merlin rubbed his forehead. “I’ve done all I can. Chances are...well.. I really don’t know. It was dark magic that caused his wounds, and I’m not the best healer when it comes to even regular injuries.”
The king clapped his shoulder. “Give yourself more credit. I’m sure what you’ve done is enough.”
“I just..” Merlin trailed off picking at the end of his shirt sleeve.
“What is it?”
“Is this my fate?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight back tears. “Will I defeat all my enemies only to be too late to save my friends?”
Arthur moved to crouch on the floor beside his friend, grasping him firmly by the shoulders.
“Listen to me,” he urged. “You’re not too late. You weren’t too late for me, and you’re not too late for Gwaine. He’s one of the strongest, most stubborn men I’ve ever known. You’ve given him a chance, a chance no one else could. He’ll recover, you have to believe that.”
Merlin nodded but didn’t meet his gaze.
“That’s not all that’s worrying you though, is it?” his servant gave him a wary look and Arthur’s heart sank. “Are you really so afraid of me?”
“NO! I’m not. Of course I’m not..That is, I’m not afraid of you hurting me, or, or banishing me or anything like that.”
“What is it then?”
“I’m just....” Merlin hesitated, looking everywhere but at Arthur. “Out there...I didn’t think about this part. I just wanted you to live. Now I’m not sure about... about what’s going to happen now that...now that you know. I mean, you deserve to know! I’ve wanted you to know for so long. But now that you know… I’m not sure if you know what to do, or if you do know what to do, how you feel about what you’re going to do. How you feel about me.”
“How I feel about you - Merlin!” Arthur growled barely containing the urge to shake the man. “I told you I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. I owe you - Camelot owes you - a great debt.” Leaning closer he took Merlin’s chin in his hand, forcing his servant to look at him. “Merlin, think for a moment. You know me better than anyone ever has. Do you really think I could thank someone I hadn’t forgiven?”
Merlin’s eyes shone with grateful tears as he studied Arthur’s face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment he looked truly happy. Then a shuttered look crossed his face and he dropped his gaze, leaning back from Arthur’s touch.
“I believe you meant what you said Arthur. But I also know it’s far easier to forgive someone when you’re convinced you’re never going to see them again.” In the stunned silence that followed that statement, Merlin stood and wandered over to the small window overlooking the courtyard, staring out it without really seeing.
Acting more on instinct then with an actual plan in mind, Arthur followed him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, he rested his forehead against the other man’s hair. Merlin stiffened at the contact, but Arthur gave him a brief squeeze and he gradually relaxed in his king’s hold.
“I know you’re scared. I understand. Somewhere inside that thick skull of yours you’ve gotten the idea I should hate you. For any actions I’ve taken to substantiate that, I am truly sorry. It isn’t true.” He paused and gave his friend a considering look. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know if I’d be capable of hating you even if I wanted to.”
A ghost of a smile crossed the younger man’s face which Arthur counted as a win.
“You’re not the only one who’s had time to think. I promise you, if there was a way to turn back time there would be many things I would change. But since there obviously isn’t, we’re just going to have to find a way to go forward now. Things will be better, you have my word. For you and your people.”
“You’re sure about that?” Merlin asked, tension returning to his body even as his voice remained steady. “If you knew what I’ve done-”
“I know more than you think,” Arthur interrupted softly. Merlin gave him a questioning look, but he shook his head. “Now is not the time. No, I mean it, you’re exhausted. Check on Gwaine one more time and then get some rest. I’ll send someone to sit with him.”
“I’m fi-”
“Do not finish that sentence!” Arthur ordered, holding him just a bit tighter. “I haven’t been completely oblivious this whole time. I know you haven’t slept since before the battle started and you’ve been expending god knows how much amounts of energy these last two days. Magic or no magic, you’re a human being. You need rest.”
Merlin’s retort died on his lips at the sound of an awkward clearing of a throat behind them. “Is this a private cuddle or can anyone join in?”
“Gwaine?” Merlin pulled away from Arthur and rushed over to the bedside, aiding the knight as he struggled to prop himself up on an elbow. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”
“Like I lost a battle with a bar keep and his entire stock of ale. What about you, last I remember…,” he sucked in a pained breath. “Morgana! She found you didn’t she? I sent her right to you.”
“Sent her?”
The scruffy haired knight let out a sigh full of self loathing. “Eria... Eria was playing us...playing me. She was in league with that witch the whole time. The queen and I, we caught her sending a message telling Morgana where you were headed and managed to trick her into going the opposite way instead. I convinced Percival to follow her there. I thought we could take her by surprise, kill her before she realized it was a trick. But she was too strong. She knocked Percy out and set a snake on me. I don’t remember much but I must have told her where you were truly headed. My Lord, I have failed in my duty as a knight and as your friend. I’ll accept any judgement you mete out.”
“Gwaine-” Merlin’s protest was cut off at Arthur’s snort.
“Gluttons for punishment, both of you,” the king muttered. “Look, Gwaine, I won’t say you weren’t a fool for going after her - you know that full well on your own - but I thank you for the effort. Morgana would have discovered us eventually. You bought us time and I’m sorry you were put in that situation in the first place. You couldn’t stop her but we could. It turns out I possessed the only means of killing her.”
“She’s dead?” the knight asked, shock and hope fighting for dominance in his expression. At the king’s nod he collapsed back on the cot with a hearty laugh. “Well, ahem, I’m glad to hear it.” He frowned at the solemn countenances opposite him. “Are we not happy about this?”
Merlin rubbed a hand down his face. “I think it’s still sinking in.”
“Ah.” Unable to cope with the awkward silence Gwaine cast about for another topic, finally settling on the first words he heard upon awakening.
“Merlin?” Tired blue eyes meet his. “Was I dreaming or did Arthur say something about you having magic?”
The eyes widened in surprise and worry. Looking away Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly and tossed the briefest of glances over his shoulder at Arthur. The king shrugged slightly but said nothing.
“Um… you weren’t dreaming.” Merlin finally admitted.
Gwaine looked at him appraisingly. “Seriously?” The dark haired man gave a shaky nod. “Since when?”
“The day I was born.”
“Huh. So... you’ve been looking out for us this whole time?”
Another nod.
“Camlann? The old man? That was you knocking half the Saxon army on their collective rears with just a flash?”
A third nod, this time with a distinctly uncomfortable edge to it.
Gwaine stared for a moment then let out a long whistle. “Well I must say, I’m impressed.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. It’s just that-”
“Mate easy, easy, it’s alright.” Gwaine hushed him calmly. “I’m not angry, just a bit surprised. Although I suppose I really shouldn’t be. I knew there was something special about you all along I just couldn’t figure out what.” He chuckled at Merlin’s puzzled look. “Face it mate, you’ve long been synonymous with weird stuff happening. You’re drawn to it like a fly to firelight. That cave for example?”
“Cave?” Arthur asked.
“Long story,” Merlin quickly answered.
Gwaine gave Arthur a long look then, trying to read his reaction. The king appeared to be... well embarrassed mostly, but there was a slight scowl on his face that immediately raised all of the knight’s protective instincts. “You’re okay with this right Princess? Because if you try to punish this man for saving our lives-”
“Gwaine hush.” Now Merlin was attempting to be the calming one. An attempt promptly ignored.
“Law or no law I don’t take kindly to anyone hurting my friends.”
“I’m fine.” Merlin insisted. Both his companions rolled their eyes.
“ Fine doesn’t leave you near tears like you were just now.”
“I-I, it’s a long story okay? But it’s fine! You’re alive, Arthur’s alive - now - and you need to rest.”
“What do you mean ‘now’?” Gwaine’s voice hardened and he struggled to sit up. “What happened?”
“Not-not now. Please.”
The heavy note of grief in Merlin’s voice brought Arthur’s hand to rest on his shoulder and Gwaine immediately relented with a murmured apology, settling back down. The conversation was wearing on him and now that some of the emotional stress had been relieved, the aches and pains in his body were making themselves keenly known.
Sensing this Merlin handed over one of the pain draughts he’d prepared earlier and the knight swallowed it without complaint. A few minutes of comfortable silence passed and as their friend’s breathing evened out Arthur took a quiet leave, repeating his command for Merlin to get some rest of his own.
None of them would sleep as well as they had before all this happened, the king knew that. He also knew, much to his relief, that whatever sleep they did manage would be all the more restful for knowing they would awaken to healing bodies and intact friendships.
Given the way the day had started, that was a lot to be thankful for.