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Chapter Text

Merlin stumbled into the tavern, apologising to the waiter he hadn’t meant to bump into. The door slammed shut and he collapsed into a chair at one of the tables in the corner. He never lost sight of the door.

Once he’d caught his breath and it became clear that no one would follow him through the door, Merlin felt more comfortable to lower his guard. He looked around the room. It wasn’t particularly crowded. Apart from a few solitary people – probably travellers – there was a group of friends close to Merlin’s age. They conversed in whispers. Something told Merlin that they were talking about him and that they were trying their best not to make it too obvious. Merlin suspected they were in a situation similar to his own.

When the waiter approached the group, he received friendly claps on the shoulder and his back. The waiter, a blond man who looked more put together than anyone Merlin had seen practising that job, laughed with them while he handed out their drinks. The group quieted after one of the girls told the waiter something teasing. A glance was thrown Merlin’s way and he quickly averted his gaze, pretending he wasn’t attempting to listen in.

A moment later the waiter came over to his table. Instead of the usual, “What can I get you,” the words that came out of the waiter’s mouth were, “Come home with me.”

Merlin nearly choked at his boldness. “Who are you?”

The blond man didn’t hesitate when he said, “The man who’s going to marry you.” Merlin raised his eyebrows. There wasn’t a trace of dishonesty in his expression. The man placed a mug on Merlin’s table. “My name is Arthur.”

Merlin looked over at the friend group who had encouraged this. They were making it no secret that they were listening in. “Is he always like this?” he asked them. He received nods and grins. “I’m Merlin.”

“Your name is like a spell.”

Merlin inspected Arthur more closely. He seemed a bit out of breath – nervous, though he had no qualms expressing what was on his mind. “Are you a witch hunter, then?” Merlin challenged him. “Or a sorcerer yourself?”

“Oh, no,” Arthur reassured him with fervent shaking of his head. “Neither.”

“He’s a special case,” one of the friends jested, a woman with long hair that was so dark it was almost black.

The girl with brown curls who had directed Arthur to Merlin’s table told Arthur, “Tell him what you’re working on.”

“Oh…” Arthur looked back and forth between the friends and Merlin, a blush on his cheeks. “I’m working on a way to bring back magic to the kingdom. This tavern is safe for anyone with magic and one day we’ll take down the king and no one will have to live in fear anymore.”

Merlin frowned. It sounded too good to be true. “Bring back magic?”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically. It was obvious he felt passionate about it.

“It has been outlawed since… I can’t remember.”

Arthur sat down opposite him with a smile. “That’s what I’m working on. I’m gathering all the kingdom’s magic users and their allies to organise an uprising against the king. Once he’s been overthrown, magic will be legal again. It can be used again without fear of persecution. Healers can use magic to cure their patients, druids can roam the streets again…” Arthur offered a hand. “When you become my husband.”

Merlin laughed and shook his head. “He’s crazy,” he remarked to the friend group. Despite their agreeing with Merlin, they seemed to have faith in Arthur. “Why would I become his husband?” he asked them.

The girl with brown curls answered, an empathetic smile on her lips, “Maybe because he’ll make you feel alive.”

“Alive…” Merlin had been on the run since before he could remember. He craved the safety and freedom Arthur promised. “That’s worth a lot.” He turned to Arthur, who watched him expectantly. Merlin leaned forward. “What else can you promise me? A magical handfasting? You know what the times are like.”

“When we’ve taken down the king, we won’t need to do it in secret,” Arthur promised him. “We will be kings. We’ll do whatever we like.”

“Sure,” Merlin humoured him. “So who’s going to lay the wedding table?”

“We won’t need to worry about that, we’ll have servants for things like the wedding table.”

Merlin crossed his arms. “We will?”

“Of course. They’ll be happy to serve the ones who brought magic back.”

“You have big dreams.” Perhaps too big, too unrealistic, but it was like a breath of fresh air. Not many people dared to dream like Arthur did – Merlin hadn’t even realised he’d stopped dreaming about better times until now. He glanced at the group of friends. They were watching the interaction with bated breath. “Who’s joining this uprising of yours?”

Arthur followed his gaze and stood up to introduce the members of the friend group. “This here is Guinevere-”

“Call me Gwen,” the girl with brown curls interrupted.

The dark-haired girl was Morgana, Arthur’s younger sister and a magic user. Arthur introduced the others as Lancelot, Gwaine, Leon, Mordred, Elyan, and Percival. He told Merlin he was teaching them to fight with swords. “Of course, there are more,” Arthur added. “They don’t all come here as often.”

Merlin felt uplifted by the hope in their faces. The faith he saw in their eyes made him think that, maybe, there was a chance Arthur was going to make it true. “Why don’t we overthrow the king already?” he asked.

Arthur winced. “We need to spread the word, first. Gather the surviving druids. Reach more magic users. Convince them to join us.”

“You’ve convinced me.”

A smile grew on Arthur’s face. “Are you a sorcerer?”

In answer, Merlin whispered a few words into his hands. When he opened them, a couple of blue butterflies flew out. Arthur gasped in wonder, as did the friends.

“You have to teach me that,” Mordred whispered in awe. Merlin recognised the tattoo that marked him as a druid – he had an identical one.

“I’ll teach them everything I know,” Merlin told Arthur, “when we are kings.”

Arthur grasped Merlin’s hands. “When we are kings,” he echoed, before kissing Merlin.

*

“Do you know,” Morgana asked Merlin, “what Camelot was like before Uther became its king?”

“Only from stories,” Merlin confessed. “I was too young to remember.” He scrubbed the tavern’s counter clean, knowing it to be a futile task. He had taken to helping Arthur and Morgana out in the tavern, now that he stayed with them.

Morgana swept the floor. “How much do you know?”

“Well, before Uther, Camelot had no king. It was ruled over by a foreign emperor who forced his culture and its customs upon the people.”

Morgana nodded. “The people lived in fear of their ruler. But then Uther drove the emperor out and seized the throne. He brought freedom to the people. They could live their lives how they wanted.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Uther I know.”

“I know.” Morgana smiled sadly. “That was before he lost sight of what he had done it all for.”

“Which was?”

“His wife, queen Ygraine.” Morgana stared off into the distance. “When she died, so did Uther’s spirit. He blamed magic and started to see it as a corrupting force that spoiled the country.” She made the dust and dirt on the ground whirl with one angry golden-eyed look.

“Why does Arthur feel so passionate about bringing back magic? He doesn’t have magic.”

“He doesn’t,” Morgana agreed. “But magic is everywhere. Surely you know that. Ever since magic was banned and the majority of magic users killed in Uther’s purge, the world hasn’t been the same. Apart from the loss of knowledge in several trades, like the healing arts, nature lost some of its liveliness. The trees don’t get as green as they used to. The seasons are wrong. The fields don’t yield enough harvest anymore, making people starve. It affects everything.”

Merlin nodded in understanding. He knew the forest’s life force was fading, he felt it every time he was there. Even its cries for help, strong at first, grew faint. “How do you know all this? You can’t have known what it was like before the purge. That was seventeen years ago. You were, what, two?”

“I work in a tavern,” Morgana grinned. “I hear things.”

*

Arthur and Merlin lay exhausted in the hay. Everyone had helped harvest the fields and were now celebrating around a large bonfire outside. “I had no idea I could miss this,” Merlin laughed. “As a kid, I hated having to help on the field. I guess it’s different now that I don’t have to. I get to work, and help the people here.”

He looked to his side to see Arthur smile at him. “I’ve always loved it,” he said. “It makes us a community. Everyone helps. We’re all equals, whether you work in the tavern like us, or make clothes, or if you’re just passing through. Everyone contributes to ensure we have enough food to make it through the winter.” Then Arthur sighed. “Even though it’s less every year.”

Merlin hummed in agreement. “What are you going to do about it?”

“We need more people. My knights and I can train them.”

“Your knights?” Merlin chuckled.

Arthur laughed sheepishly. “Percival started calling us that. I guess it stuck.”

“What can I do?”

“Gather your strength. Teach Morgana, Mordred and the other sorcerers we gather.” Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s cheek. “Most important of all, have faith. Trust me. Trust yourself. Soon we won’t have to live in fear anymore.”

Merlin kissed him. How could he tell Arthur that he’d already given Merlin what he wanted – a person who loved him, a place to be himself – even though Merlin had never asked for it? “I love you.” Before he had met Arthur, Merlin had no idea these things were all he needed in life. “I’ve always been on the run,” he told Arthur, “hiding my magic. For you I don’t have to hide.”

“I don’t think you ever could,” Arthur said. “When I saw you, it was like I already knew you.” He looked away. “To be honest, I don’t know who I am to deserve you.”

Merlin turned onto his side to be closer to Arthur. “Tell me you’ll hold me forever,” he whispered. “Tell me I’ll always be safe with you.” He interlaced their fingers. “Promise me we’ll stay with each other.”

Arthur put an arm around his waist and pulled him close. “Not all magic is gone as long as I have you here. I will hold you forever. You will always be safe with me,” he promised. “As long as we stay together, it will always be like this.”

*

After the harvest season ended, the cold arrived quickly. Merlin could feel it was the doing of the magic retreating from the land – the wind blew in from the sea and brought cold air to fill the gap.

“Do you feel it too?” Mordred asked Merlin quietly. They sat by the fireplace with the other knights. Outside the wind howled and blew large snowflakes through the sky, piling it against walls and doors. There was quite a crowd inside the tavern, all come together for warmth. Still Mordred shivered. Merlin glanced at Morgana, who wore her thickest coat. Gwen had her arm around her middle.

“The absence of magic? I do, but it’s not affecting me as much as you and Morgana, I think.”

He looked for Arthur in the crowd. As usual, he had joined a table of travellers to tell them about his dream of the future. When Merlin looked back to his own group, Gwen caught his eye. She looked worried and nodded subtly to the storage room in the back.

He followed her into the dark room. “Something needs to happen,” Gwen told Merlin as soon as they were alone. “Morgana is suffering. So is Mordred. And it won’t be long before you start feeling the effects too.”

Merlin leaned against one of the barrels. “I know. I’ve told Arthur. He’s working on it.” He crossed his arms. “I wish I could do more.”

“We all do,” Gwen sighed. “But we will come in action together. Until then, we wait.”

“I’m trying to trust him, Gwen.” Merlin hunched his shoulders. “I’m trying to believe in the world he dreams of. But look around you.” He gestured to the half-empty shelves. “Will we even make it through the winter? Arthur will have to be quick.”

Gwen gave him a sympathetic smile. Merlin could tell she was conflicted too. “I trust him. In the meantime, can’t you do something to make it easier on the suffering magic users? Perhaps share some of your magic, if it works like that?”

“It… doesn’t really work like that, but I can try.”

*

It didn’t get any better. The only positive thing that came out of the gruesome weather was the number of people that visited the tavern, where there was always fire and company.

“I’m going to travel to the next village over to spread the word,” Arthur announced one morning. “Travellers have stopped travelling. I can’t rely on them to spread the word anymore. And then soon we will have a large enough force to march on Camelot.”

“Arthur, that’s madness. You can’t travel in this weather,” Merlin argued. “You need to wait until the weather improves.”

Arthur shook his head. “We can’t afford to wait. You’ve started feeling it too, haven’t you? The magic leaving your body, trying to fill the crater the king is cleaving into the earth with his purge?”

Merlin crossed his arms and nodded silently. Arthur embraced him. His body heat wasn’t enough to counter the cold that came from within.

“When I return, we will end that king once and for all,” Arthur promised with a kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll wait for you.”

*

The world got a bit colder when Arthur was gone. Merlin tried not to dwell on the fact that Arthur promised him they would always stay together. It was only temporary.

It was night when the house Merlin, Morgana and Gwen slept in was invaded. The door was kicked off its hinges and the friends were dragged from their beds. Merlin couldn’t think of a spell to stop them, but he could fight with his fists. He saw Gwen defend Morgana with a sword. Blood welled on one of the men’s arms.

Merlin could recognise their clothes anywhere – a red cape and a golden dragon as their crest. The king’s men. The men Merlin had nightmares of, who he had spent his life running from. They had finally found him.

Despite their best efforts, there were too many to hold off. Morgana cried out for help. The men just laughed at her. Merlin found out why when he was dragged outside into the cold.

All the houses’ doors were opened, but not kicked in forcefully like theirs had. They had been opened carefully, quietly. The residents were killed equally silently. There was nobody to hear them cry out.

“Elyan!” Gwen screamed when she was dragged past the smithy where she lived with her brother. There was no answer. The house was set alight by a torch one of them carried. Others soon followed, filling Merlin’s nose with the smell of burning wood and flesh.

Merlin whispered a spell to look inside the nearest farmhouse. He soon wished he hadn’t. He knew the view of Leon and his family in a pool of their own blood with their throats slit would come back to haunt him in his dreams. He stumbled and had to fight down a wave of nausea. The hands that pulled him along dug into his flesh.

With each house they passed, Merlin got angrier. He had known these people. He had become part of their community. They had taken him in. They were innocent. Merlin had already lost his community once before. In front of Merlin, Morgana continued to struggle against the hands that gripped her and dragged her through the dark streets. When she spit in the face of a man who dared to grab her under her chin, she received a blow to the head that knocked her out.

That was the last straw. Merlin’s magic lashed out instinctively. Nearby flames grew and caught the blood red capes. The men holding the unconscious Morgana dropped her and ran, but those holding Merlin and Gwen continued to take them with them, now at a run. Merlin’s magic wasn’t done yet, though. It wasn’t difficult to make them slip on the snow and fall, releasing Gwen and Merlin.

“Merlin! We need to go back for Morgana!”

They turned around, but everything was engulfed in fire.

Gwen gripped Merlin’s arm. “Please, do something!” she sobbed.

Merlin picked up a sword and pressed it into Gwen’s hands. “Get to the river. We’ll meet you there.”

“No! I’m not leaving-”

“The fire will swallow you if you stay!”

Gwen nodded and ran away, looking back once. Merlin didn’t need a spell to make him resistant to the fire. It was like the earth reached up and gave him the magic he needed.

Everything was unrecognisable. He didn’t need to go far before he found Morgana emerging from the smoke, holding a cloth over her mouth and nose. Merlin slung his arm around her and supported her towards where the air was clear.

“Where’s Gwen?” Morgana asked, her voice hoarse.

“She’s-” Before Merlin could finish, something hard and heavy hit him on the head.

Chapter Text

Merlin woke up on a cold, hard ground. The smell of smoke clung to his clothes. His head pounded. He felt weak and exhausted, but he willed himself to sit up and take in where he was.

He was surrounded by blank stone walls, a grated window in the top of one of them. Light spilled through, as did a trickle of melting snow. In the wall opposite the window was a door with a barred window. It was dark on the other side. He was in a cell, he realised with a shiver. They had taken him to Camelot.

He dragged himself to his feet to look through the window in the door. A dark corridor lay behind it.

“Hello?” he called out. His voice bounced off the bare walls, like it did when he yelled into a water well. “Morgana? Gwen?”

No one answered. He went to the other window, high up in the wall. All he could see through it was overcast sky and the citadel’s tall towers. It was an impressive building. It filled him with dread. He couldn’t stop shivering. He could feel his magic was useless to him now.

He lowered himself onto the ground with his back against the wall. He tensed when he heard a weak cough somewhere down the corridor. Merlin flew to his feet again and pressed himself against the door. “Is someone there?”

The cough sounded again, a little more force behind it this time. It was unlikely to be a guard.

“My name is Merlin. Who are you?”

He still received no answer.

“Doesn’t anybody hear me?”

As the sun rose, so did the people of the citadel. Through the small window Merlin could hear voices and footsteps crunch in the snow. He wondered if they were aware that so close to their feet there was someone who had lost everything.

Tears pricked in his eyes. How could the people he heard outside be so happy? Did they not feel the loss of magic? Weren’t they hungry?

Sometimes someone would pass close to his window. In those moments, he could see a flash of a shoe, sometimes a horse’s hoof. No sound came out of his mouth when he opened it to beg for help.

He didn’t deserve help. It was his fault those villagers had died. He had lingered too long, it was naïve of him to believe he had lost his pursuers for good. They had followed him there and killed innocent people without reason.

He had no idea if it was a targeted attack. He hoped it was, because then at least there was a chance Arthur was still alive. If Camelot’s men had gone through every village and murdered everyone in it, then Arthur would most certainly be dead. He didn’t want to think about it – but every time he let his thoughts wander, his mind circled back to Arthur.

Merlin awoke with a start when he heard several pairs of heavy footsteps down the corridor. His shivering came back full force. The footsteps stopped in front of his door. Keys jangled, were turned in the lock, and the door swung open. Two Camelot guards stepped in an gripped Merlin by the arms, hauling him to his feet and dragging him out of the cell.

“Where are you taking me?” he demanded to know.

“Silence,” one guard commanded, tightening his hold.

He was taken through several corridors, up some stairs, through a richly decorated hallway, up another flight of stairs and finally into a large hall. Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. He felt out of place among the people dressed in fine, brightly coloured clothes, their jewellery glimmering in the light of the candles and torches that lined the walls. Directly opposite the grand doors he was taken through stood Camelot’s throne. Before it stood a man who could not be anyone but the king himself.

“The peasant boy, sire,” a guard announced.

The king sat down lazily and gestured for them to approach. He watched with uninterested eyes as Merlin was led in front of him, though Merlin suspected it was an act, a practised expression. What sent shivers down Merlin’s spine was the way he regarded Merlin like he was something filthy, something below human.

Merlin was thrown onto the ground, his knees hitting the stone floor painfully. He immediately tried to get up, but a strong hand on his shoulder kept him close to the ground. Merlin fixed his eyes on the king. He hoped the hatred in them was tangible.

“Where did you find him?” the king asked, his eyes on Merlin but his question directed at the people watching from the sides. From the corners of his eyes, Merlin saw someone step forward.

“My lord,” the man began, “he was found in a small village near the border with Cenred’s kingdom. He was with the lady Morgana.”

Merlin had to do his best to conceal his confusion at the title Morgana received.

“Why is he not dead?”

“He is a druid, sire.”

The king visibly recoiled. “And you dare bring him into my throne room? Get him out of my sight!”

“My lord-”

The king stood and pointed to the doors. “Out!”

“He was found in Arthur’s house,” the man with the cape insisted. “Reports speak of his closeness to Arthur. He may have hidden him. He could lead us to Arthur.”

“Never,” Merlin rasped. He received a kick in the stomach.

“What did he say?” the king asked.

“I’ll never tell you where Arthur is,” Merlin spat, getting another kick.

A smirk tugged at the king’s lips – a sight Merlin hoped he never got to see again. “So it seems Morgana lied to me. She claims never to have heard of Arthur.” Merlin tensed, realising his mistake. The king turned to the guards. “Take him back to his cell. He may be useful to us yet. Make sure he can’t escape.”

*

The precautions that were taken to ensure Merlin couldn’t use his magic were unnecessary. Camelot was so drained of magic that the earth tried to absorb it from him, tugging at his limbs and rendering him unable to use the magic that remained. He was glad at least to hear that Morgana was alive.

“Morgana?” he called out into the corridor. If she was there, she didn’t answer. Merlin suspected she was being kept somewhere else.

It stormed that night. Merlin received a threadbare blanket. It didn’t keep out the cold, but it was better than nothing. He could tell from when food was handed out that there were more people locked up in cells nearby. The next day, the person Merlin had heard coughing wasn’t the only one with a cough. He had barely slept, though exhaustion had made him doze off several times.

He spent the days listening to the people in the courtyard. It was difficult to make out anything in specific, but he could piece together rumours of a rebellion against the king. His heart bled. He hoped talk of the rebellion meant that Arthur was alive and coming for him.

The nights he spent listening to the howling of the wind, the coughs and sniffles of his cellmates, the faint laughter of people in a tavern, and shivering under his blanket when he wasn’t being plagued by nightmares. He had long given up on trying to strike up a conversation with the others. The earth pulled on his magic, making him too exhausted and cold to do anything but rest his back against the door, the least cold surface of the room.

Merlin blinked when footsteps stopped in front of his window one day – he had no idea how much time he had spent in that cell. It could have been weeks, for all he knew. Persistently cold weeks.

“Merlin?” a whisper sounded.

Merlin’s mouth dropped open. “Gwen,” he attempted to say, but his mouth was too dry to make any sound. The footsteps continued to the next window. Merlin tried again. “Gwen!”

The footsteps stopped. “Where are you?” Gwen whispered.

With a lot of effort Merlin got to his feet and stumbled over to his window. He reached up to stick his fingers through the grate. “Over here.”

Warm fingers closed over his. “Oh, Merlin,” Gwen whispered. It was too dark and far away to see her, but he could hear the emotion in her voice. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.”

Merlin had a lump in his throat. “It’s okay. I had no idea you were even alive.”

“I am,” Gwen reassured him. “So is Morgana.” She tightened her hold.

“And Arthur?”

Gwen was silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”

She said she couldn’t stay long, but she promised to come back that night. When she did, she told Merlin about what had happened after Merlin was knocked out back at the village.

After Merlin had told her to go, Gwen had run to the river, but the king’s men came after her. They seized her. When the men that held her met up with the others, she saw they had Merlin and Morgana too. It was a harsh walk to Camelot – Gwen half joked that Merlin could count himself lucky he was passed out.

On the way, the men interrogated Gwen and Morgana about Arthur’s whereabouts. Gwen wasn’t sure why, but she could guess it was because word had spread that he was organising an uprising against the king. They pretended not to know him. When they arrived at the citadel, all three of them were locked up.

Morgana was summoned to the king first. The king had recognised her – how or as who, Gwen didn’t know. But Morgana was important enough to get her own chambers in the palace.

Morgana insisted she kept her cell. The king didn’t take it well. Morgana bargained with him – she would only accept the chambers if the king released Gwen and Merlin. Apparently she was also important enough to the king to get away with it, though the king didn’t quite agree. Morgana only got Gwen, who would attend her as her maidservant. Feeling like she had pushed her luck, Morgana accepted.

They thought they would be able to find Merlin soon enough. It took weeks. They were under strict surveillance and couldn’t go anywhere without reason or a guard following them. It took them weeks to learn the layout of the castle and find where the cells were located – “Do you have any idea how big this castle is?”

It took them a while to win the king’s trust, but thanks to Morgana playing her role perfectly, telling the king exactly what he wanted to hear without giving away her magic, the king loosened his guard on them. “If I’m found here, he’ll have my head,” Gwen concluded her story. “I’ll come back here as soon as I’m able to. We’ll work on finding a way to get you out.”

She pushed a piece of blue fabric through the gaps in the grate. Merlin tied the scarf around his neck and said goodbye, a spark of hope reignited in his chest.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but when he startled awake later that night, he thought the earth was tugging on him a little bit less.

*

Footsteps passed Merlin’s cell door and stopped a couple of doors down. The door was opened and a struggling person was dragged out. “Quiet,” a guard snarled.

Merlin peered through the window in his door to catch a glimpse of the person that was pulled through the corridor. Their pale face stood out in the darkness. Their hollow eyes stared unseeingly at the floor. They were nothing but skin and bones.

Merlin shuddered. He imagined he would look like that if he was kept in his cell much longer. He had been interrogated several times about Arthur by the king’s men, who were not averse to torture. The bruises didn’t seem to go away. He felt for whatever that person was about to endure.

Not much later, the king’s voice rang out in the courtyard. “This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of using magic. And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death.” With a shiver Merlin realised what the clamour in the courtyard had been about – they were building a pyre. “I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass.”

The smell of woodsmoke filled his nose. Merlin buried his face in his arms. The smell reminded him of the night he was taken to Camelot.

Another realisation came to him. He wasn’t the only sorcerer in a cell here. Merlin had actually been able to regain a bit of his magic. He tried to control it, but it was still feeble. Perhaps he would have more luck if he and the sorcerers worked together – if they would talk to Merlin, which they wouldn’t. He hadn’t heard them utter a single word apart from what they exclaimed in their sleep from time to time.

He felt it then, the earth reaching out to take his magic, and for the first time Merlin was able to resist it – for a second. The earth wasn’t drained of magic like Merlin had believed at first. It was actively taking magic from the sorcerers the king detained. Merlin wondered for what purpose. If the king only wanted the sorcerers to be unable to use their magic, he would have had them killed straight away. No, their magic was being used. What for, he had no idea.

Merlin shared his insight when Gwen visited him two nights later. “I know,” Gwen told him. “Morgana feels it too. After a lot of prodding she convinced Uther to tell her what he’s using the sorcerers for.”

“And?”

Gwen tightened her hold on Merlin’s freezing fingers through the grate. “There’s a big wall around Camelot. It’s invisible to the eye. It’s a wall made of magic, designed to keep enemies out. The sorcerers here keep that wall standing by supplying their magic.”

Merlin shuddered. If he had any hope left of Arthur coming to rescue him, it just shrank. Though there was one thing Merlin could hold on to. “Something changed,” he said. “The pull isn’t as strong anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

*

More sorcerers were locked up and the ones whose magic had been fully drained from them were burned on the pyre. Merlin began to think there would never be an end to this winter, and if there ever came one, he would not live to see it. All he had to look forward to were Gwen’s visits. Morgana didn’t visit him, because the closer she got to the cells, the stronger the earth tugged on her magic.

The smell of woodsmoke was strong in Merlin’s cell when the door quietly opened.

“Come home with me.”

Merlin couldn’t believe his eyes. “Arthur?”

Arthur ran into his cell and dropped to his knees to embrace Merlin. His hold on him was strong. “Merlin.”

Merlin held onto him as if Arthur would disappear as soon as he let go. His embrace was warm and strong. “I thought you’d never come.” Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and seeped into Arthur’s coat.

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur whispered. “Whatever happened, I’m to blame.”

Merlin shook his head. “It’s my fault. I led them to you.”

“It’s me they were looking for.”

“I’m just glad you came.”

Arthur took off his coat to put it around Merlin’s shoulders. He wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Gwen told me.”

“But how did you get into Camelot? Did the wall of magic not stop you?”

A hint of pride glimmered in Arthur’s eyes. “I gathered enough sorcerers to break through. And the new knights I trained fought the king’s men that stood in our way.”

Arthur breaking through the wall must be what Merlin had felt, the reason why the earth’s pull wasn’t as strong anymore.

“Though they had to remain behind the wall. But I can fight our way out of here again. With my strength and your magic combined, we’ll be free before you know it.”

“Arthur, we can’t.”

“Yes, we can!”

“No, my magic-”

There was no warning before the king’s men barged into the cell. They attempted to seize Arthur, but he was quicker with his sword. He stood between Merlin and the men while he held them off. Merlin tried to assist with his magic, but it was of no use. Arthur seemed to have it covered, though. Until his movements froze.

A woman stood in the doorway. A golden sheen faded from her bright blue eyes. The sight of her made Merlin’s blood run cold.

“There you are,” she said, satisfied with herself. “So it was you who broke through my wall.” It was her magic that immobilised Arthur, her magic that sucked the sorcerers’ magic from them to reinforce the wall. “Finding you has cost the king a great deal. How glad he will be to learn you’re already in the heart of Camelot!”

Merlin jumped to his feet, but before he could reach Arthur, the men grabbed him by the arms. “Let him go!”

The woman spared him no glance as she turned and left the cell.

When the men took Arthur’s arms and twisted them behind his back, Arthur regained the ability move. He struggled against the iron grip on his limbs. “I’m not going with you alone!”

The woman turned around and looked between Merlin and Arthur with a hint of amusement. “Fine,” she said. “You can watch him suffer.” Merlin wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

They were both led to the throne room. The further they got from the cells, the more Merlin felt like he could breathe again. He did his best not to show his relief. The doors opened a smidge to let the woman through. Merlin caught a glance of the king on his throne with Morgana by his side, Gwen standing behind her. Morgana wore a dress she could never have afforded before and her hair was neater than he’d ever seen it, but Merlin had to admit she didn’t look out of place. Gwen was right, she played her role perfectly, down to her perfectly schooled facial expression.

“My lord, I come with good news,” Merlin could hear through the door. “It is a great honour that I get to announce the news we have all been waiting for eagerly. King Uther Pendragon, I present to you… prince Arthur Pendragon!”

It was like he received a kick to the stomach. Merlin exchanged a look of shock with Arthur before the doors opened and the prince was led into the throne room. Merlin followed close behind, though he was led to a side wall while Arthur was brought close to his father.

Gwen’s face was slack with surprise – both at the fact Arthur was the king’s son and that he had been captured. Morgana looked to be having trouble trying to compose herself. If Arthur was the king’s son, that meant she was his daughter. Now it made sense why the king had been so willing to listen to her.

The king stood from his throne and took a hesitating step towards Arthur. He reached out a hand. “Arthur, my son…”

“Don’t call me that!” Arthur spat, his tone a stark contrast to Uther’s, his voice echoing off the walls.

Uther retracted his hand. The coldness Merlin knew returned to his eyes.

“My lord,” the woman spoke up. “He was discovered trying to free that sorcerer.”

Uther didn’t take his eyes off Arthur. “Thank you, Nimueh,” he said absently. Nimueh tensed at the clear dismissal, but held back her protest.

Arthur looked at Merlin. He tried to convey to Arthur with his expression to be careful. Arthur turned back to the king. “I’m taking him with me.”

The king scoffed. “You are not going anywhere. This is where you belong.” Taking another step towards Arthur, he said, “I have searched the entire kingdom for you, my son. You’re finally home.”

“A place where magic is exploited and innocent people are killed will never be a home,” Arthur growled. “You’re a hypocrite and a tyrant!”

“You…” The king’s eyes sparked with anger.

“My lord.” Morgana stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm. “Father…” She swallowed when he turned his gaze on her. “I know him.”

“You lied to me.”

Morgana scowled. “I only returned the favour.” Composing herself, she continued, “I know Arthur. He has a kind heart. I plead you to give him a chance.”

“You stay out of this.”

With a yell, Arthur broke free of the guards’ hold and charged towards the king, but his movements were once again stopped by Nimueh’s spell. The echo of his yell died away.

In the silence that followed, the king’s laughter filled the large hall.

“Who do you think you are? You have gone too far with your little rebellion against me. Don’t think I had no idea. You think you can fight your way out of here? You can’t go anywhere, even if you want to. You are my son. I lost you once, I’m never losing you again.”

Arthur looked furious in his powerlessness. Merlin felt magic flowing through him. Nobody was paying attention to him, except the guards restraining him, whose hold was loosening. And Morgana’s eyes were on him. When Merlin made eye contact, he understood she was lending him her magic. He breathed in slowly. His magic wasn’t what it had been, but he reckoned that with Morgana’s help it was enough.

“Arthur, run!” Merlin didn’t need a spell to release the magic. Nimueh slammed into the wall with a sickening crack. At the same time, her spell on Arthur broke and he stumbled forward before he caught himself and ran to the doors.

Everyone else in the room had been pushed back by the wave of undirected magic as well. Merlin had fallen to his knees. He was free to go, but too spent to move.

Arthur hesitated at the door. His eyes locked with Merlin’s. “Go!” Merlin urged him, breathing heavily.

His hesitation was detrimental. It gave the guards enough time to recover and block the door.

“You!” the king exclaimed, pointing at Merlin. “Arthur, everybody – watch what becomes of conspirators with no respect for royalty!”

Pain made Merlin double over. He was confused where the pain came from. It felt as if he was being kicked and beaten from different sides, but nobody was close enough to touch him. When he heard Arthur gasp, Merlin looked up to see people being led into the hall. The eyes they fixed on Merlin glowed golden.

The sorcerers looked as haggard as Merlin felt. They must be the sorcerers locked in the cells with Merlin. They must have heard Merlin beg for them to talk back in their cells, and this was how they answered. The feeling of betrayal made their blows even more painful. The air being knocked out of his lungs prevented him from asking why they were doing this.

Now that Nimueh was dead, there was no one forcing them to do magic. The earth stopped pulling. Yet the sorcerers did what the king asked. They were afraid. They did the only thing they knew how to do, the only thing they had been doing since being locked up.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur struggle in the guards’ hold. When Merlin felt like he was going to black out, the king left the hall with Morgana at his side and Gwen following. Morgana and Gwen watched Merlin anxiously when they walked past. Arthur was dragged after them, screaming at his father to stop hurting Merlin.

*

Merlin was vaguely aware of hands gripping his arms tight and his feet dragging on the floor. He didn’t have the energy to open his eyes or lift his head. Everything hurt.

He was thrown onto the cold, hard floor of the cell he had spent the last several weeks in. He thought he heard Arthur call his name, but it could have been his imagination. He surrendered to the warm embrace of sleep.

He dreamed of Morgana – or was it a vision? She was seated at the end of a long table, king Uther at the other end. Gwen stood to the side with a pitcher in her hands and her head down. The table was loaded with food. Uther ate like nothing was wrong, while Morgana picked at her food.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

“What?”

“I’m sure Arthur is just shocked to find out he’s your son. I can hardly believe it myself… father.”

Uther stilled and stared Morgana down. In a low voice he said, “Arthur knew.”

Morgana opened her mouth and closed it without saying anything. She looked at Gwen, then back at the king. She squared her jaw. “He loves Merlin. They love each other like you and queen Ygraine once loved each other.”

The king continued eating. “The sorcerer means nothing to me.”

“I know.” Morgana stopped pretending to be eating and set her fork down. “But he means everything to Arthur.”

“So?”

“If you have just an ounce of love for Arthur, which I know you do…” Morgana didn’t wither under Uther’s look. “Then you let Merlin go.”

Uther was silent.

“My lord… My father.” Morgana leaned forward to catch his eye. “If you had known him like I did, you would pity Arthur. He’s never had much. Life in the country was hard. But all he wants is to be with Merlin.”

“That’s all he wants, huh?” the king scoffed and shook his head. “He yells in the streets about legalising magic. What he wants is to see me dethroned and have the kingdom for himself. He can cry all he wants for his sorcerer – he’ll never get him.”

Morgana cocked her head. “You have been so generous to me. Why do you not show him the same? Is he not the son of Ygraine too?”

“He rebelled against me,” Uther said with gritted teeth. “I cannot allow such things to happen. I cannot be seen making exceptions for one man.”

Morgana slowly shook her head. “What does he care for your reputation? He does not act out of hatred for you.” She glanced at Gwen, who gave her an encouraging nod. “He fights for love.”

“You should not pity him, Morgana. I am not the one who abandoned him so many years ago.”

Morgana’s eyes turned cold and she stood. “No. I pity you.”

Chapter Text

Merlin woke to whispering voices.

“You need to do something to make him see sense.” That was Gwen’s desperate voice.

Arthur’s gruff voice answered, “I can’t do anything from here.”

Merlin tried to move. Arthur and Gwen quieted when he groaned.

“Ssh,” Gwen said, sounding closer. “Don’t move. They did not hold back.”

When Merlin opened his eyes, he discovered he was in his cell again. Gwen’s face appeared behind the door’s barred window. “Where is Arthur?”

“He’s just on the other side,” Gwen answered kindly. “He’s, well…” She looked behind her.

“How is he?” Merlin heard Arthur ask.

Gwen winced. “Awake.”

Merlin pushed himself upright, his entire body and Gwen protesting when he did. He needed to see Arthur. He reached the door and held onto the bars. Gwen moved aside. On the opposite side of the corridor, Arthur’s worried face watched from behind his own door.

“Merlin…”

“Arthur,” Merlin smiled. “I’m okay.”

Arthur shook his head. “This isn’t right. He doesn’t get to treat you like that.” He hit the bars in frustration, the rattling sound echoing in the corridor. “I came here to free you, and look where that got me!”

Merlin sank to the floor with his back to the door. The stone walls resounded with Arthur’s voice.

“When I left Camelot so many years ago, I swore I would never set foot in this place again so long as my father was alive. I could not bear to see my sister suffer under his hatred for magic. When we started a new life in the country, I realised Morgana wasn’t the only one suffering. Everyone suffered under the king’s rule. I made it my mission to make an end to it myself, but I couldn’t do it alone. I can’t.” Arthur sighed. “The king says I have no chance of making it out of here, of changing his mind. If that’s true, I might as well stay here.”

Merlin was silent. As long as he’d known Arthur, he had always been filled with hope for better times. His hope worked infectious – when Merlin thought he had lost all hope, Arthur had made him believe it was not all lost. It hurt to hear him so defeated.

There was rustling in the corridor. “Arthur,” Gwen whispered, her voice full of wonder. “They’re listening to you. The sorcerers.”

“The king’s hatred does not only affect magic users,” Arthur continued. “In his pursuit of sorcerers and their allies, he burned our entire village down and killed everyone in it. The king claims to bring Camelot to prosperity, but he kills his own people. He claims to eradicate magic from the kingdom, but he continues to use it for his own gain. Is that truly the king you want to obey?”

His voice grew in strength.

“If it’s true what he says, that it is our fate to remain here until our deaths, we could stay here and wither.” Arthur paused. “But who is he to tell us what the truth is, anyway?”

Merlin smiled. The Arthur he knew and loved was back. Arthur never gave up.

“While we suffer, the people in the heart of Camelot remain ignorant to the king’s injustice. They have no idea they’re privileged and thriving off the backs of the poorest. The king shuts their eyes to reality. But I ask you: is it true what he says?”

Merlin stood to watch Arthur. He was looking at the other cells.

“I’m asking you,” Arthur pointed at the sorcerer in the cell next to Merlin’s, “and you,” he looked at someone else, “and you.”

Gwen was smiling proudly. While he couldn’t see the other sorcerers, Merlin could hear them stirring.

“I believe our answer matters more than anything he says. If we believe, we can get out – if we work together. We are many, while the king is only one man. I believe we’re stronger than he knows!”

Someone grunted their assent. Merlin felt his magic flowing through him. The others must have felt it too. Little by little, they stopped feeding the wall and reclaimed their magic as their own.

“It isn’t for one man to tell the many what is true. So I ask you: is it true what he says?”

More mumbles of determination sounded in the corridor. Merlin’s magic mingled with that of the others.

“I will fight for our freedom. Together we can defeat the king!”

The locks sprang. The sorcerers spilled out of their cells and looked each other in the eye for the first time. Two of them, a woman and a younger boy, rushed to Merlin’s sides to support him.

Gwen embraced Arthur, who only had eyes for Merlin. He thanked the sorcerers helping Merlin and supported him himself. Then he led the way through the hallways. The sorcerers followed behind, talking to each other, getting to know the people they had shared a wall with.

*

Between the sword Arthur had picked up and the magic the sorcerers wielded, the guards who stood in their way were easily disposed of.

“What’s that noise?” the king’s voice boomed through the hallway before he rounded a corner and was faced with the group of sorcerers. He stopped in his tracks, paling. “Arthur!”

Arthur halted. When the mob bristled at the sight of the king, Arthur held up a hand to stop them. Merlin saw Morgana rush towards them to watch what was about to happen.

“Uther Pendragon,” Arthur intoned. He threw a glove on the floor between them. “I challenge you to a duel. If I win, you will stand down from your rule. If I lose, everything will remain as it is.”

The king narrowed his eyes and straightened up. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? I was young once too, impulsive and filled with ideals of justice like you. I was proven wrong too. Now I wield a different weapon, one I can depend upon: the art of politics and diplomacy.”

Arthur’s speech had paid off – the sorcerers didn’t seem inclined to believe the king at his word. Morgana stepped forward, catching the king’s eye.

“You know what? Since Morgana has such faith in you…” Uther stooped to pick up the glove. “If I win, everything will remain as it is. You will stay in Camelot forever. But if you win…” Merlin gripped Arthur’s hand. “I will let you and your sorcerers go. Nothing more.”

Arthur exhaled. “Deal.”

“Then I accept your challenge on my conditions.”

*

While Morgana treated Merlin’s wounds in her chamber, Gwen helped Arthur into his armour.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” she questioned him. “I do not doubt your skill with the sword, but is this truly the way to convince the king to do better?”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t know, Gwen. It’s a start.”

“I’ll fight by your side if I need to,” Merlin said.

“No, Merlin. This is about honour as much as it is about justice. He will never accept it if I use magic to win.”

“He doesn’t need to find out.”

Morgana nodded. “I think the time of winning honourably is long past. Just look at everything Uther has done. Do you think he is above cheating?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s starting to sound like you don’t think I’ll win.”

“No, Arthur,” Gwen said. “That’s not what I’m worried about. This is about more than getting what you want. It’s about giving the kingdom what it deserves – to live in peace and security.”

Arthur looked down. “I know.”

“You’re showing the people that they can fight for what they believe in,” Merlin countered. “That’s something. If you can do it, so can they.”

A horn being blown outside told them the duel was about to start.

The stands were filled with people from the lowest to the highest ranks. The field had been cleared of snow. Merlin went to sit with the sorcerers after kissing Arthur good luck. Morgana patted Arthur on the shoulder and Gwen whispered encouragements into his ear.

On the opposite side of the field, the king showed no hint of insecurity. His armour fit him perfectly and the sword in his hand was a familiar weight. Arthur had to make do with the armour that was given to him. The shield he carried was battered and bore the crest of Camelot, but the sword was his own.

Drums silenced the audience. Merlin shivered and pulled the cloak Morgana had lent him tighter around himself. Everyone cleared the field, leaving Arthur and Uther facing each other on opposite sides. Arthur closed his helmet’s visor.

When the final beat faded to silence, they approached each other.

Their swords met with a resounding clang. Merlin didn’t know much about sword fighting, but it looked like Arthur’s skills were equal to Uther’s. They stood their ground, but couldn’t break through each other’s defences. Merlin didn’t think either of them had the upper hand – it alternated.

The fight went on without prospect of a clear winner. It would have to come down to endurance – they were both sweating and breathing heavily. “Why did you leave Camelot, Arthur?” the king asked between blows. His breathlessness made him sound emotional.

Arthur didn’t answer immediately. “I had to protect Morgana and myself.”

“From what?”

“From you.” Their attacks on each other lost some of their strength. “You would have killed us. One day or another.”

Uther lowered his sword. “I could never.”

Arthur stepped back, but kept his sword ready to defend himself.  He shook his head. “I remember my mother.” Before Uther could say something, Arthur tightened his fist around the hilt and continued, “I remember how much you loved her.”

“It was magic that killed her. Everything I did was to protect you and Morgana.”

“No.” Arthur lowered his sword. There were tears in his eyes. “It was the choices you made that killed her.”

Merlin looked over at Morgana. She and Gwen held each other’s hands tight.

Arthur continued, his voice ringing out over the field, “I know how it is to love someone so much you would do anything for them. When you saw them, it was like you already knew them. And I know how it is to be left alone. When they’re gone, there’s a hole in your arms where the world used to be.” He glanced at Merlin, then looked back at the king. “Your war against magic will never end. You will keep going, whatever the cost. But you can’t win. What you’re building your walls around is already lost.”

The king didn’t answer. Arthur softened his voice when he went on.

“When did you let your love turn to hatred? Where is the man who played with his son?” He playfully clanged his sword against his father’s. Uther smiled despite the tears. “Where is the father with his arms outstretched to his children?”

Uther dropped his sword and shield to put his hands on Arthur’s shoulders. “Arthur, my son…”

Arthur dropped his own weaponry to embrace his father.

A cheer arose from the stands. After a moment, Uther stretched out a hand to Morgana. “My daughter.”

Arthur stepped back while they held each other, and sought Merlin out.

“You did it,” Merlin said proudly.

“Yes.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “Now what do I do?”

“You take me away from here. Let’s go, right now!”

“Okay.” Arthur’s smile faded. “How?’

Merlin pulled him towards the field’s exit, where the snow that had been cleared from the field and stands lay piled. “We’ll walk. The wall is weakened. My magic will be enough to get us through.”

Arthur stopped and pulled his hand free. “It’s a long walk. It’s still the middle of winter. Are you sure you want to go?”

Merlin looked into Arthur’s insecure eyes. “Take me home with you.”

Arthur wrapped his arms around himself, his armour clanging. His bearing reminded Merlin of when they first met. “We have no home. Our whole village burned down, it will never be like it was. And we aren’t kings. We have no servants to lay the wedding table for us. I can’t promise you that magic will fully return to the world.” He looked away before he turned his pleading eyes on Merlin. “But I can make you a new promise. I’ll walk beside you, wherever you want to go.”

Merlin smiled. He took Arthur’s warm hands in his. “I don’t need servants or the kingdom’s treasures. Just bread when I’m hungry and fire when I’m cold. I don’t want to be king. All I need is a steady hand to hold.”

Arthur’s hands trembled. He looked at where his father was still wrapped in an embrace with his sister. “What about him? I technically didn’t win.”

“He’ll let us go. Look at him, he can’t say no.”

“What about them?” Arthur pointed at the sorcerers.

“We’ll show them where to go. If we can do it, so can they.”

Merlin saw the faith returning to Arthur’s eyes.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be before we find a place to call home again,” Arthur said, “but we’ll find one together.”

Merlin nodded. “I’ll walk beside you, wherever you want to go,” he echoed Arthur’s words.

Arthur’s now steady hands squeezed his. “Do you let me walk with you?”

“I do,” Merlin grinned. “Will you keep going, whatever happens?”

“I will.”

They walked hand in hand to the king. The smiles on Morgana, Gwen, and Uther’s faces were genuine.

“My lord,” Arthur began. “You fought well.” He searched for the right words for a moment. He swallowed. “Can we go?”

The crinkles of joy around Uther’s eyes faded. He looked between Arthur, Merlin, Morgana and Gwen, and the people who remained in the stands after it became clear the fight was over. Merlin’s heart hammered in his throat. The hand that held Arthur’s started to sweat.

After a long silence, the king answered, “I don’t know.” Merlin tensed. “Let us celebrate our reconciliation together. I will announce my decision at the feast.”

Chapter Text

After Merlin helped Arthur out of his armour, Gwen delivered clothes for both of them that were more suited for a banquet and the weather. The tension was palpable. They had no idea whether these were their last moments in Camelot or not.

“Any news?” Arthur asked.

Gwen sat down with a sigh. The chambers they had been appointed temporarily were as big as the tavern Arthur and Morgana had owned and came with a table with multiple chairs.

“Morgana is doing all she can to turn the odds in your favour,” Gwen began. “The king seems the most concerned about how his decision will reflect on him. If he lets us go, he’ll appear weak and he fears he won’t get his subjects in line again. But he knows that if he keeps you here, it will be against your will and he’ll have trouble getting you to obey him.”

Arthur groaned in frustration. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

*

The ambience of the feast couldn’t touch on the cheerfulness Merlin had taken part in in Arthur and Morgana’s tavern, but the food was the best he had ever tasted. The nerves made it difficult to eat as much as he wanted, though.

“I see your mother in you,” Uther told Arthur and Morgana, who sat on either side of him. “When she set her mind to something, she would not rest until she had achieved her goal.”

Morgana pushed a piece of pork around on her plate. “I do not remember her. I do not remember life in Camelot at all.”

“You were two years old when mother died, and three when we…” Arthur hesitated, “when I took you to the village you remember growing up in. I was seven.” He took a drink from his goblet. “Sir Kay, the knight whose squire I was, helped us get out. He knew Albert and Maggie, the childless owners of the tavern we took over when they got too old. I heard Sir Kay died not long after we left.”

King Uther clamped his mouth shut.

Morgana watched Arthur with interest. “How long were you planning our escape?”

“It was Sir Kay’s idea. He saw…” Arthur glanced at the king. “He thought it might get unsafe for us. It was only years later that I discovered why.”

Uther frowned. “What did spark you to leave so suddenly?”

Arthur looked at Morgana. She bit her lip and glanced at Gwen, who faintly shook her head. Arthur shrugged. “I suppose only Sir Kay knew.”

“He wouldn’t tell me,” Uther mused. “But that aside.” He held up his cup for more wine.

Merlin watched Arthur. “How did queen Ygraine die?” he asked carefully.

It was the king who answered him. “She was trying to negotiate with the druids.” Merlin perked up at the mention of the group of people he’d grown up with and had lost. “They showed her to a place the dragons frequented. One of them breathed fire and injured Ygraine.”

“Dragons?” Merlin whispered. Arthur grimaced at him. Merlin had only heard stories of dragons, since the king had killed and driven them all out.

“When Ygraine returned to the citadel, there was no saving her.” The king sounded choked. “The dragons were a trap set by the druids to kill my wife.”

“That’s not true.” Arthur stabbed a fork into the meat on his plate. “Taking mother to the dragons showed that the druids trusted her. It was an accident, one they regret to this day.”

“As they should.”

Arthur ignored his father’s comment. “She could have been cured, had you not been so blinded by your prejudice against the druids. They could have helped her.”

Uther took a sip from his goblet.

“I remember her last words to me.” Arthur cut his food into smaller and smaller pieces. “She was so scared, father. She was terrified you would discover her magic.”

Morgana gasped.

“No.” Uther slowly set his goblet down. “That cannot be true.” Though he sounded uncertain.

“Father…” Morgana fidgeted with her napkin. “I am like her.”

“Morgana?”

She set fire to her napkin with a single look. “That is why we had to leave. Sir Kay must have seen me do magic and decided it was safer for us to leave than to remain.”

The king stared at her. His voice was small when he looked between her and Arthur and said, “My children… If I had known…”

Merlin wondered if things truly would have been different. It sounded to him like Uther already disdained magic before queen Ygraine died, and used her death as an excuse to expel magic from the country. Maybe Uther’s stance on magic would have changed if he knew the people closest to him had magic.

“You never gave us a chance.” Quietly, Arthur added, “For the longest time I believed you killed mother because she had magic. Until I realised you never knew.”

Merlin watched grief and regret taint the king’s features. Uther took a deep breath before he pushed his chair back and stood. “I am glad for this opportunity to be together and talk. I will send a servant to you tonight to inform you of my decision.”

*

Morgana and Gwen closed the door behind them. Their conflicted expressions did nothing to calm Merlin’s nerves, much less fill him with hope. He grabbed Arthur’s hand to anchor himself.

“The good news is,” Gwen broke the silence, “he said that you can go.”

“He did?” Merlin and Arthur chorused in surprise.

Morgana flashed a smile. “Yes. But there’s bad news too.”

Merlin frowned. “What is it?”

“Well…” She looked at Gwen.

“There’s a condition.” Gwen wrung her hands. “It won’t be… like you planned.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, his grip on Merlin’s hand tightening subconsciously.

Morgana mirrored them, taking Gwen’s hand. “You won’t be walking hand in hand. You can’t be beside each other.”

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other. “Why not?”

“King Uther said…” Gwen sighed. “Arthur has to walk in front, and Merlin has to walk behind. And if you turn around to make sure Merlin is coming, Arthur, you will be dragged back to the citadel. And nothing you do will be able to change how it is.”

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s trembling hand. “It must be a trap.”

Gwen shook her head. “It’s a trial.”

“Do you trust each other?” Morgana asked, looking between them. “Do you trust yourselves?”

In the scared look they exchanged, they found that they did. Despite the less-than-ideal situation, they would still be together with the prospect of a new life. “We do.”

Gwen let out a breath. Morgana embraced them with a laugh.

“It’s not a trick?”

“No, Arthur, it’s a test.”

*

The next morning, the released sorcerers gathered in the freezing courtyard to follow Arthur and Merlin. An escort of guards preceded the king.

Uther and Arthur didn’t exchange many words. Merlin stuck close to Gwen and Morgana. When it was time to go, Arthur kissed and held Merlin for a final time.

“Are you sure you want to come?” he addressed the crowd.

“If you can do it, so can we,” one of the sorcerers answered. The rest nodded and stepped forward, separating themselves from the king and his men.

 Arthur took a deep breath.

“Arthur.” Morgana grabbed his hand. Gwen hooked her arm around Merlin’s. “Gwen and I are staying.”

“What?”

Gwen nodded. “We want to keep trying to change the king’s mind on magic.”

“Our work here is not done yet,” Morgana agreed. “We have no home to return to, so we decided to make this our home. We already did, for the past weeks.”

“What about your magic?” Merlin asked.

Morgana squared her jaw. “Uther can try what he wants, but I’m stronger than him. I’ll be fine.” Her expression softened. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“And if you decide to lead another uprising,” Gwen told them with a wink, “it’ll be good to know you have someone on the inside to rely on.”

Though Merlin didn’t like it, he agreed that it was a good plan. He embraced Morgana and then Gwen. “I will miss you.”

Gwen wrapped the blue scarf, the one she had given Merlin when he was locked in a cell, around his neck an extra time. “Take care.”

*

It was a long and cold walk. Arthur took the lead. Two of the king’s men walked several yards behind him, followed by Merlin. Making up the rear were the sorcerers who had been locked in the cells and had managed to break free through collective effort.

When they passed through the lower town, people lined the streets to watch the procession. Merlin read incomprehension on their faces. He had listened to their footsteps and fragments of their conversations for weeks. They had no idea of what went on outside the magical wall and how Uther extorted magic. It had bothered Merlin when he was locked up and helpless. Now he just wanted to leave.

*

He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. The snow was increasingly difficult to traverse. Arthur kept slowing his pace.

“Arthur.”

In front of Merlin, Arthur tensed but didn’t look back. “Yes?”

“I’m right here.”

“So are we,” one of the sorcerers behind him said, joined by several others.

They went on.

*

“Merlin?”

“I’m still here. I will be until the end.”

*

“We’re all right here.”

*

“Where are you? Who am I to deserve you?”

*

“Arthur, are you listening?”

A mumble.

“I’m right behind you.”

*

The sky was dark when they reached the wall. Merlin could feel where it was. He felt the magic of the sorcerers behind him in it, woven together with Nimueh’s magic, the magic of sorcerers who had died, and his own.

Arthur stumbled to a halt. Merlin’s hands itched to hold him.

The sorcerers began to chant. There was a brilliant glow when the wall cracked. Merlin croaked out a laugh. “Not much further now.”

Arthur dragged himself forward. Merlin followed in the footsteps he left in the snow.

Arthur passed through the wall.

The wall’s magic crackled. Merlin joined the sorcerers’ chanting to keep the crack open. So far from the citadel, his magic flowed through him freely. He could breathe.

He stepped forward. He was close enough to the wall that he could touch it.

He took another step. He was almost through. He could almost-

Arthur’s eyes locked with Merlin’s. The guards took him in an iron grip.

“It’s you.”

Merlin couldn’t breathe. “It’s me.”

Arthur was dragged back to the wall.

When they passed, Merlin reached out for him. “Arthur…”

Arthur blinked rapidly. His breath formed clouds in the air. “Merlin.”

The sorcerers seized Merlin to stop him following. They took him to the other side of the invisible wall and let the gap close.

“ARTHUR!”

Merlin didn’t know how long he stood there watching Arthur be taken further and further away from him, until he was out of view and all Merlin saw was a white landscape, the trodden snow the only sign there had ever been people here. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. His throat was sore from screaming.

Snowflakes covered Arthur’s footsteps.

*

Merlin did what he had always done. He ran.