Chapter Text
Merlin woke up with a yell and a crash.
The “yelling” was Gaius shouting his name; the “crashing” was all the contents of his room, including his bed, returning to the ground after floating a foot off the ground. Still fuzzy from strange dreams, Merlin flailed a little at Gaius’s despairing, “Oh, Merlin! Again?”
“Yes,” Merlin mumbled. “Again.”
“Merlin, you simply must speak with him!” Gaius, looking as stern as he ever did, with his arms akimbo and eyebrows raised, surveyed the damage.
Merlin rubbed his eyes and sat up. He waved his hands and the contents of his small room, such as they were, were put back in place. Gaius twice had to duck out of the way of flying possessions. “Merlin”!
“Sorry!”
“Now, get up! You’re going to be late.” The old physician turned away into his chambers, muttering and shaking his head.
Merlin glanced out his tiny window and winced, scrambling up and reaching for his day clothes. He really didn’t know how he was going to explain his request to the prince without revealing his secret. But something certainly had to be done – and soon.
It had started two weeks ago with a swarm of hummingbirds that followed him around all one day. Merlin hadn’t even known that hummingbirds could swarm! Then there was the time that the apple blossoms all turned blue, and that other time the castle animals had all started talking to him. Merlin could have dismissed these as “just one of those things,” but this last unintended magic had been no joke. The night before last, the plain around the castle, kept carefully clear of vegetation for tactical reasons, had become overgrown—overnight. Bushes had sprung up, grass grew in great billows, and vines creeped up the castle walls, looking for cracks—even small saplings had sprouted. Fortunately, Merlin had been up early picking herbs for Gaius and had managed to make it all go away before too many people had noticed it.
Still, people in the castle were starting to look uneasy, and he heard rumors about strange things happening whispered around the castle. What’s worse was Merlin’s feeling that the animals and vegetation had been looking for him, specifically. Calling to him.
His magic, so closely tied to the forces of nature, was simply blooming this spring, getting bigger and brighter inside him, slipping his control. He tried to tame it, under Gaius’ tutelage, using the techniques of calming the mind, grounding, and centering that the books spoke of. Obviously, it wasn’t enough.
Unfortunately, Arthur was demanding his presence nearly constantly. Not only did Merlin have to perform his regular chores, but he also had to run errands, deliver messages, and take on additional tasks for Arthur in his role as Prince Regent while the king was indisposed. As Arthur’s duties expanded with the king’s incapacity, so did Merlin’s, until not only was he run ragged, but he had no time for himself, let alone time to “fix” his out-of-control magic.
Gaius suggested a time away, alone in the wilderness, as a kind of retreat where Merlin could commune with the spirits of the land and open himself to guidance from the Old Religion. Merlin had to admit that having some time alone to himself so he could concentrate and refine has abilities without distractions sounded like a great idea.
All he had to do was tell Arthur. And that was a problem. Arthur relied on him and trusted him more these days, but – there was still a lie between them. More than one, if Merlin were to be absolutely honest.
Merlin thought about his problem as he headed to the armory. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but whatever it was, he’d better do it fast. Surreptitiously, he told the mice who were lined up on the fence to talk to him to go away!
And ignored the horses’ chuckles as he passed the stables.
***
Merlin did in fact, approach Arthur while he was helping him with his armor after drill. Quietly, he asked, “When you have a moment, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” Merlin was too distracted to even notice the golden skin revealed as Arthur changed clothes, as he usually did. With nothing more than a sharp glance at the unaccustomed serious tone, Arthur agreed. “Later tonight, then.”
It wasn’t too difficult to find a moment alone. Over the years, they’d fallen into the habit of sharing an evening meal in Arthur’s chambers, unless there was a formal feast or state banquet. Preparations for the Beltane feast were underway, and Merlin had been pressed into helping, on top of his other duties. Nervous and exhausted, he only picked at his food.
Arthur sighed heavily. “Merlin,” he said, in that particular way he had which indicated extreme exasperation. “You mope around like a girl. And eat like one, too. Except for Lady Louise.” The two men shared a smile. Lady Louise was a charming woman, but she did enjoy her victuals. The prince, relaxed, ate a slice of venison off his knife. He eyed his manservant, noting how tired he looked. He frowned.
“Here.” Arthur shoved a pitcher of good wine, well-watered, toward Merlin. “If you’re not going to eat, at least drink some wine. You look as tense as a cat. And tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?”
Merlin ignored the offer of wine, and got up to poke at the fire, knowing he had to talk fast, or risk the prince’s impatience. “All right, erm, Arthur. I – I would like to request a leave of absence.”
Whatever Arthur expected, it wasn’t that. “Is it Hunith? Is she all right?”
“No, no—she’s fine.” Merlin did the thing with his eyes that made him look shifty, but didn’t elaborate.
“And, what—you’re just going to leave me? For how long?”
Merlin smiled at the panic that Arthur disguised with belligerence. “A few months, maybe—I’m not sure. I know I’m indispensable, but surely you can get along without me for a short time.”
Arthur scowled. “A few months.” Petulantly, he motioned for Merlin to refill his goblet. “And are you going to explain why? And why I shouldn’t just sack you and let you go your merry way.”
Merlin nodded firmly. It was a time for courage. He had made his preparations in case this all turned out badly. He took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I’ll explain. But I have something to say to you first.”
Merlin looked directly at Arthur, counting on that connection which they never talked about, but was tacitly acknowledged, to keep him alive for the next few minutes. Slowly, he knelt on the floor at Arthur’s feet and bowed his head. Arthur’s face went blank.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. But it’s a secret worth my life, and I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position with your father. But I eventually realized you already hold my life in your hands, so that no longer matters.”
Merlin looked up, his expressive face serious, its unusual contours only enhanced by the illumination of the fire. “Whatever happens, know that I am your man, to the death. For Camelot, and for you, Arthur. That’s the reason I’m here, and that’s the reason I need to leave. My life is forfeit, because I’m a sorcerer.”
Arthur swallowed, and wished he hadn’t had that last glass of wine. “Well, that – explains a few things.” He paused, then blurted, “Merlin, you idiot!”
Merlin’s eyes went wide. This wasn’t any reaction he’d expected. “You knew?”
“I suspected. Oh, for a long time, I just thought the things that happened were coincidences. And then, one day, I had a thought. It was after I noticed one too many fallen branches taking out a bandit while on patrol. I thought,” and here Arthur exaggerated, putting his finger under his chin like a simpleton—“‘What if Merlin were a sorcerer?’ An absurd thought—almost as absurd as you.” Arthur kicked Merlin with his socked foot. “I tried to dismiss it, but the more I thought about it, the more certain things made a lot of sense.”
“Oh,” said Merlin, somewhat deflated. At least Arthur didn’t look homicidal. “You’re not mad?”
“I’m furious, or at least—I was. I kept thinking about how you lied to me.”
“Well, yes, but surely you understand why. Your father would have tied me to the stake himself!” Pleading for understanding, Merlin said, “I would never hurt you, Arthur. I’m supposed to protect you!”
“You, Merlin! You couldn’t protect a kitten!” Arthur scoffed, striving for normalcy. He reached down to pull Merlin to his feet.
“Fat lot you know. I’ve saved you dozens of times,” Merlin sulked.
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll figure out an appropriate punishment later.”
“But--!”
“No, don’t thank me!” Arthur smirked. Then, more seriously, “Just tell me what this has to do with this request for leave.”
Merlin sat down again. “I have to leave Camelot, Arthur. Just for a while. I need to get away and concentrate on refining and controlling my magic. It’s been,” Merlin did the shifty-eyed thing again, “getting away from me a bit, and Gaius thinks--”
“Gaius knows?” Arthur interrupted.
“Of course he knows. He’s been helping me.”
Arthur couldn’t help but feel he should have been helping Merlin. Arthur got up and walked around, pacing his chambers while he thought. When Merlin started to babble nervously, trying to explain, Arthur said, “Shut up, Merlin. Let me think!”
“Don’t strain yourself, Sire,” replied Merlin, automatically. Arthur just gave Merlin a dark look.
“So, you came here to Camelot to be guided by Gaius. That answers one of my questions—why here? But Gaius renounced his magic.”
Merlin nods. “That’s right, he did. He did it for the love of Uther, I think. And he’s done some terrible things in your father’s name, which I know he regrets. He teaches me out of guilt, I guess. And because my mother asked him to.”
Arthur stopped by his desk and fiddled with the writing implements. Without looking at Merlin, he said, “Would you do that for me? Give up your magic?”
“For love of you, Arthur?” Merlin smiled, but it was rueful. “Arthur, um, I don’t just have a little magic that can be learned or coaxed with cantrips and charms. Technically, I’m a warlock—someone with instinctual magic, and not a sorcerer. I have a lot of magic, from deep within. So, I don’t think I could, actually. Give it up, I mean. In a way, I’m a creature of magic, like the unicorn. That’s part of the problem.”
“What problem?”
Merlin supposed Arthur could be forgiven for losing track of his request right now. “The problem I’m trying to solve with this leave of absence.” Merlin fumbled, trying to explain. “My magic is getting out of control. It feels huge inside me, Arthur, and it leaks. And I’m quite fond of my head where it is, thank you very much, but it keeps getting worse. Remember that swarm of hummingbirds the other day? And yesterday, the plain around the castle was overgrown with plants overnight! I had to destroy them, and they screamed, Arthur.” Merlin shuddered at the memory.
“I’ve got to get out of Camelot. Gaius has been teaching me disciplines that can help me focus and control my magic, but I have to concentrate, and have some uninterrupted time for myself. I need to find a quiet, safe place, alone, to work on it—someplace in the forest, maybe, off the trails.”
Arthur stopped pacing and gave his friend a strange look. “Merlin, what the devil am I to do with you, hmm?”
Merlin had a few ideas that he wasn’t necessarily prepared to share with Arthur now. Or ever. There was that one other secret, after all.
Arthur considered him for a moment more. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime while you’re off gallivanting around in the woods contemplating your navel or whatever?”
“Well, I know a likely kitchen lad that could help you out,” Merlin said, hesitantly.
Distracted, Arthur rejoined automatically, “And I’m sure he’d be ten times better, too,” but it was clear he was still thinking. “Did you mean what you said before—that you’re my man until death?”
“Of course, Arthur. You should know that by now.” The two men shared a long, intense look.
“I’d take your oath then, as much as a peasant can swear.”
“Well, I’m a sort of a lord, maybe,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur snorted. “Lord of the Chambers?” he sneered.
Not knowing what that meant, Merlin merely shrugged, and said, “No, a Dragonlord. Balinor, the Dragonlord, was my father, although I didn’t know it until I met him that time.”
Arthur stared. Dragonlords had been nobility before the Purge, and were known to have very strong magic. After a minute, he just shook his head and said, “Any other juicy magical tidbits you’d care to share with me, Merlin?”
“Oh, loads!” Merlin shot back, with his usual impudence. He grinned then with relief, knowing he wouldn’t have to disappear tonight. He trusted Arthur, and had hoped the prince wouldn’t have arrested him (or worse), but a wise man made contingency plans. Greatly daring, Merlin put his hand warmly on Arthur’s arm. “I don’t really need to swear, anyway—it’s written in the stars. Your destiny, and mine.”