Chapter Text
As the flames fell away, the faint scorch mark left behind on the ground burned into Arthur’s eyes. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing, and from the sudden stillness of the knights flanked around him, neither could they.
Merlin, his miserably hopeless servant, Merlin, stood with his arm outstretched, having taken out about twenty men in less than one blow. The fiery glow that burned from his eyes was still fading as he lowered his hand, face solemn as a man carrying out an execution. He sighed, and even from afar, Arthur could see the burden that settled onto his shoulders. Merlin was gazing about the scattered bodies. There were no survivors. Magic left none.
His shaking hand was clenched around the hilt of his sword, knuckles white. Arthur took a sharp, ragged breath, the sound of it cutting through the silence of the forest. Merlin turned toward them and looked Arthur directly in the eyes.
The king and his knights were responding to a report of raiders in the nearby village. A band of about twenty men would ride through, terrorize, and rob the people of their crops and goods. It was said that there may have been a sorcerer among them, but the reports were conflicting.
Merlin had not been able to accompany them on this mission. He had a week off to visit his mother, who lived not too far from here. He was due to return to Camelot by tomorrow. In the meantime, the knights had quietly tracked and found the band of raiders. They had been in the process of planning an ambush when a commotion in the camp caught their attention.
They crept up slowly, keeping low to the ground. The camp was in a small valley and they were able to watch from above. Merlin stood in front of the entire camp, unarmed, looking gangly as ever.
“And what will a little runt like you do to stop us?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to find out.”
The raiders laughed and a few drew their swords.
“Alright, lads, you heard the boy. I suppose we’ll just hand over our winnings,” the large man at the front said with a chuckle. Krell, if Arthur remembered the reports correctly. “Oh, wait. What if we didn’t? We can just dispose of you, boy.”
Arthur’s blood boiled. Merlin, the idiot, was going to get himself killed because he decided to handle something that wasn’t even his problem all by himself. He turned to the knights and began signing his signals to get into position. Without even being part of this mission, Merlin was still going to ruin a perfectly good ambush by making them rush into it.
“You could certainly try, I’ve proven very hard to kill.”
Arthur paused and looked down into the valley. Sure, Merlin has somehow survived this long without any real training or abilities on the battlefield, but where was this confidence coming from? He stood there, in the middle of the valley, being surrounded by enemies, and talked about death as no big deal. The other knights wore similar looks of alarm. What was he playing at?
“Haven’t you heard? We have a sorcerer with us. You don’t stand a chance,” Krell pointed out the man standing behind him. Some others laughed. At least the rumors were true.
Merlin cocked his head slightly to the side and looked at the man indicated. He studied him for several long seconds.
“You have no magic,” Merlin declared. “Just a small crossbow hidden up your sleeve. Clever.”
The men stirred uneasily and muttered among themselves. Some laughed nervously. The alleged sorcerer moved forward.
“What makes you so sure?”
“You may not have any magic,” said Merlin. “But I do.”
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or just the reflection of a fire that sprang up and created a wall surrounding the camp, but Merlin’s eyes were glowing gold. The fire spread quickly, cutting off any chance of escape the raiders had.
Arthur’s breath hitched in his throat. The knights around him stirred as well, but he was unable to connect with reality. As the flames rose, the men in the valley yelled in alarm. Some clamored for swords, others just ran at Merlin. His eyes flashed as Arthur’s vision narrowed, and the men nearest flew back twenty feet. As more approached, Merlin waved his hands in their direction and the men appeared to drop or throw their swords behind them. Roots snaked their way up through the soil and tripped several as they landed on their weapons with a scream. Arthur felt he had sat there for decades watching the carnage, when it was all over in less than ten seconds. Quickly, the flames died down.
Their eyes locked on each other. The solemnity in Merlin’s face gave way to a surprised “oh,” his eyes growing wide and he took a step backwards. There was a moment when they both knew Merlin could run and Arthur wouldn’t give chase.
The moment passed.
“Arthur…” Merlin’s whisper seemed to boom through the forest.
Somehow Arthur was at his feet, walking down to where Merlin stood in the middle of the strewn bodies. Merlin stood his ground, but the fear in his eyes grew.
“Arthur…?” Merlin flicked his glance down as Arthur continued to grasp his sword tightly in his hands. He fell to his knees and put his hands up in submission.
This act alone caused more mayhem than expected. Arthur and the knights stopped dead in their tracks, alarmed. Leon and Elyan drew their swords. Merlin knelt, confused, until he realized his offense.
“Um,” he nervously brought his hands down and looked at them, before deciding to drop them at his side. He kept his head bowed.
“Arthur, I’m—” he was cut off by Arthur’s sword flashing in the light before feeling it pressed against his throat.
“What,” he spat. “What, Merlin, you’re what?”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin’s voice cracked. “I’m truly sorry, but please know that I have never betrayed you or Camelot—”
Arthur barked out a mirthless laugh. “You’ve never… then what was all that, Merlin? Tell me!” He gestured at the destroyed camp around them.
“I have magic,” Merlin said. “I have magic, and I wish I could have told you in a different way, I do, but please, I was born with it, I have only tried to serve you—”
“And you expect me to believe you?”
Merlin looked up into the King’s eyes, desperate. “I am loyal to you and to Camelot. That has never and will never change. I swear to you.”
They held each other’s eyes for a several long moments, the knights remaining still as the tension built.
Arthur swung the sword down and turned away. He walked away and began pacing, weapon in hand, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Merlin exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, but remained where he was. The knights shifted, Leon stepping closer to Merlin, sword at the ready, but Merlin didn’t pay him any attention.
“Why?” Arthur stopped, not facing him. “Why would you do this? Do you understand the position this puts me in?”
“I know,” said Merlin softly. “I wanted to tell you, really, but I knew what this would do to you. I’m sorry.”
“Do you realize what the sentence is for your crime?”
Merlin visibly paled and gulped before he could answer, “I do.”
Arthur stared down at him with an unreadable look in his eyes before turning away.
“Arrest him.”
“Sire!” Gwaine stepped forward.
“Right now, all I can do is bring you back to Camelot where you will stand trial. Do you understand?” Arthur ignored Gwaine.
“Yes,” said Merlin. At least in a trial he might be able to prove his loyalty once again.