17Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.
Prompted by a post on Tumblr by sterlingdylan about how it wouldn't be possible for Arthur to know about the magic, and not give it away without being totally stressed out! This is pure fun.
The attack - as per usual - came out of nowhere. For all the training, perimeter checks and making sure his men were on guard, the bandits erupted from the undergrowth as if they had sprung from the soil itself when no one was looking.
Given the strange things that seemed to happen these days, nothing would surprise Arthur any more.
Two of his men were down before the alarm sounded. His sword was in his hand, and his servant shoved behind him, before he'd even taken stock of the situation. He didn't need to worry about watching his back with Merlin there, nor did he need to worry about the fool finding adequate cover.
Not, however, that he had the time to be concerned about his servant. The bandits had them surrounded and Arthur lost himself in the melee. His men were well trained, but they were outnumbered and unprepared (a fact the prince was definitely leaving out of his report) and the battle was more evenly matched than Arthur would have liked.
But, despite everything, the knights of Camelot collected themselves, remembered their training, and formed a defensive perimeter around their prince. Arthur tried to check Merlin was behind the wall of steel, but couldn't see the man. Trusting Merlin could stand on his own two feet for a few moments, Arthur called for an attack and the group rushed forward as one. Surprise had been the bandits only advantage: they couldn't stand against the combined might of the knights.
After that, it was a simple matter of rooting out those who had tried to run. The last thing Arthur wanted was for them to slip away to their friends and pass the word that the knights could be surprised. Leaving the final few bandits to his men, Arthur turned to look for his wayward servant.
Merlin was standing on the edge of the battle, half-concealed by a tree. Arthur rolled his eyes. It wasn't because the man was hiding from the bandits or hoping they didn't see him. He was making sure the knights didn't see him. If the knights couldn't, then no one would ask Merlin if he'd happened to see how several branches had conveniently snapped, or how roots had somehow sprouted long enough to trip a number of the bandits.
He stepped towards his servant. Although Merlin hadn't seen him, a warning flickered across his expression. Arthur was familiar with that look now, and turned. One final man had slipped past the net, creeping up on a knight with his sword raised. Shouting a warning wouldn't be enough; Rolund wouldn't be able to turn in time.
Arthur wasn't worried though. He didn't have to be. Not when Merlin had seen the bandit as well.
What Merlin hadn't seen, however, was a second knight turn towards the treeline. They all liked and respected the servant, and Arthur knew the soldier would do his duty and check an unarmed man was safe after a fight.
But if he headed towards the trees, then Merlin couldn't save Rolund…
"Watch out!" Arthur called. It wasn't the most princely of moves, but it was the only thing he could think of. He dove towards Lucian, catching the knight around the knees and bringing him to the floor. At the same time, the bandit let out a howl of pain, dropping his sword and warning Rolund of his almost-doom.
It was over in an instant.
"My Lord?" Lucian questioned, barely able to get his breath back before Arthur rolled off him. The prince stood, brushing down his tunic and offering the man his hand.
"There was a crossbow aimed at your head," Arthur lied.
"A crossbow?" Lucian looked around, obviously trying to find where the bolt had gone.
"They didn't fire," Arthur said. "As soon as you dropped, they took off into the trees. They didn't have time for a second attempt."
"Oh." Lucian still looked startled but then offered the prince a smile. "You saved my life, My Lord. I'm indebted to you."
"Just ensure you stay alert," Arthur said. He clasped arms with the knight, then turned. Rolund was in the process of sheathing his sword – alive, albeit bewildered by his attacker having dropped his own weapon without driving it into the exposed back. That was enough for Arthur.
"Hiding again, Merlin?" he called, making a point of looking in the wrong direction until Merlin moved and revealed his presence.
"No." The servant was giving him a shrewd look. "I was watching your back."
"Of course." Arthur made his tone as patronising as possible. As the familiar flush spread up Merlin's neck, he waited for a retort. Some hint at the truth…
But they were surrounded by knights. There was no way Merlin was going to confess to what had really happened.
"Just do something useful, will you?" Arthur said. "Go and find the horses. I want to reach Camelot before night falls." He looked around. "There's no telling what else is out here."
As Merlin hurried away - no doubt grumbling under his breath - Arthur watched him go. He thought he was getting good at coming up with stories on the spot. At least he managed to come up with plausible explanations, unlike the rubbish Merlin usually spouted.
His men were searching the bodies, looking for some kind of sign of who they were and why they'd attacked. When he overheard Lucian ask if any of them were carrying crossbows, Arthur hurried after his servant.
Merlin was useless - he probably needed help bringing the horses back.
And if it just happened to take Arthur away from his men and any questions about where the supposed lone bowmen had fled to, then all the better.
The forest attack wasn't the first time Arthur had to cover for his servant.
Nor was it the last.
It was his fault. He realised that now. It was a miracle Merlin had kept his head on his shoulders all these years. He was a terrible liar: Arthur was certain if he confronted Merlin outright about his secret, the servant wouldn't stand a chance of bluffing his way out of it.
But it had amused Arthur for a while to watch him squirm. Then he wondered how far things would go before Merlin found the courage to confess.
Then it just got awkward.
It had been three months since he'd found out. Arthur had no idea how he was supposed to blurt out that he'd known for an age; it wasn't exactly a conversation starter.
Now, however, lying on the leafy ground (again), Arthur was starting to wonder if he should be the first to break the silence.
It was a sorcerer this time. One with the usual grudge, ranting about how the Pendragons had taken everything and he was going to get revenge. Arthur would have rolled his eyes if it hadn't been hard to breathe at the time. The fact that he'd heard it all before didn't make the man's magical grip around his neck any less suffocating.
Merlin had saved him. Again.
Although admittedly in an un-Merlin like way. He'd thrown himself at the sorcerer, having previously escaped the man's notice due to Arthur shoving him behind a tree. Being a servant, not a prince, offered some security as well. Arthur guessed it was because he was conscious that Merlin had tried a more physical approach.
Arthur hit the ground, finding it harder to breathe now compared to when he'd been pinned against a tree. Black spots danced in his vision. Through half-lidded eyes, Arthur saw his servant back away, glancing between the sorcerer and the prince. He could practically hear the thoughts whizzing through Merlin's head: risk Arthur's life, or risk exposing his secret?
It seemed harsh, all things considering, to force him to make that decision under the current circumstances. Arthur decided to make it easier, giving into the darkness and allowing his body to slump against the ground.
If he actually passed out for a few seconds, well, no one was paying him any attention.
When he opened his eyes again, all hell had broken loose. Arthur didn't dare move - not because he was worried that Merlin would notice, but concerned by the arcs of magic darting across the clearing. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he shivered as he saw - through slitted eyes - a fireball head straight for his servant.
Instinct made him want to leap up. But even as he gathered his strength to move, Merlin's eyes glowed gold. His hand brushed the air in front of him, as if brushing away a cobweb, and the fireball dissipated.
Arthur couldn't move if he wanted to. He'd known Merlin was a more-than-average-sorcerer. He figured it made up for the man being a terrible servant and an even worse liar. But this… this was more than he'd bargained for when he decided to keep the fool's secret.
The magic continued to fly. Arthur Pendragon was not a man who cowed from anything. But considering his only companions already thought he was unconscious, keeping his eyes shut as spells shot overhead didn't cost him anything.
When all finally fell silent, he opened his eyes. Merlin was sitting on the ground, panting. The sorcerer was nowhere to be seen.
Faking a groan, Arthur made a show of regaining consciousness. It was harder than he thought to sit up and he coughed, rubbing his throat as he brought his legs around in front of him.
"Are you alright?" Merlin said, scrambling towards him. There was a slightly wild look in his eye, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.
"Where's the sorcerer?" Arthur rasped. Merlin shrugged.
"Disappeared. Well, he ran into the trees. He didn't literally disappear. I'm not sure anyone could do that."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why'd he go?" He only realised afterwards that he'd intended it as a leading question, wanting to give Merlin the chance to say something.
"Probably thought he killed you?" Merlin offered. "Took off as soon as you passed out."
As lies went, it was one of the better ones. But as Arthur pushed himself to his feet, he saw a scorch mark on one of the trees.
"And that?"
Merlin shrugged again. "Have you ever noticed how careless some people are with their campfires?"
The prince shook his head. Merlin stood up as well, watching him closely.
"Are you certain that you're alright?" he said, "you were out cold for a while."
"Let me guess, you saved me?"
Merlin grinned. "I tackled him," he said, sounding proud. Arthur snorted. It was one of the few times Merlin had ever openly acknowledged what he had contributed other than a vague 'watching your back'. Although, to give him some credit, it was one of the few times he could offer his involvement without risking his head being removed in the process.
"Come on," Arthur groaned. "Let's go home."
They weren't even out of the clearing before Merlin was complaining about something. But as he eyed the man walking next to him, Arthur knew this couldn't continue. If he hadn't pretended to pass out, if they hadn't been alone…
The last thing he wanted was for Merlin to get himself killed because he was too afraid to reveal a secret that Arthur had figured out a while ago.
If only it was that easy, though. Arthur had his own pride to think of, after all. Merlin hadn't come to him with the truth. Arthur was certain it wasn't a princely thing to do, accusing one's manservant of keeping a secret while simultaneously informing him it wasn't actually as secretive as he believed.
Then again, it wasn't as if anything involving Merlin was ever simple.
"I thought you said the beast could only be defeated by magic?"
Uther's voice rang across the hall and Arthur winced. He steadfastly refused to look at Merlin. He kept his back straight, hands clasped behind him, gaze fixed on the throne even though his father was pacing in front of him.
"I may have been mistaken, My Lord. The creature is one of legend: who really knows anything about them?"
Arthur had to admit that Gaius was a smoother liar than his ward was. He could see Merlin shifting out of the corner of his eye and had to resist snapping at him to stand still. Being a servant meant slipping under his father's radar, and Arthur wanted to keep it that way.
"So, you killed it, Arthur?"
The king turned his attention back to his son, and Arthur lifted his chin. He should take the credit: it was the easiest way of avoiding complications. But his honour wouldn't let him.
It wasn't him who had defeated the latest magical threat to emerge. Of course, now he realised it had never been him, and that stung. He prided himself on being a strong knight, but wondered if Camelot would have fallen years ago if it wasn't for his servant.
"I… No, Sire. I did not."
"You said it was destroyed."
"It was. Is. The threat is no more, My Lord."
"Then what happened?"
My idiot servant shot a beam of blue light at it when he thought I was unconscious on the floor (again)…
"There was a man," Arthur said. "One I've never seen before."
"A knight?"
"Maybe. He was strong and skilled."
"And he drove the beast away when you could not?"
Arthur flinched. He should have thought his story through before he started speaking. At this rate, his father was going to think he was completely incompetent.
"I think so."
"You think so?"
Arthur took a deep breath. If there was one thing that Uther couldn't stand, it was hesitation.
"He drove it away."
"How?"
"I didn't see."
"Yet you know he was skilled?"
"I-,"
"The prince fought fiercely, My Lord." Merlin's voice was a welcome interjection, but Arthur was certain the man should be doing all he could to avoid notice right now. "He wounded the creature, had it to the point of fleeing, when-,"
"When he got himself knocked out?"
"He moved to shelter his men," Merlin said. Arthur's eyes went wide and he carefully avoided looking at anything but the wall. "He sacrificed himself so they were unharmed."
No one mentioned Arthur had been the only one left standing by that point - especially as he was certain that was only the case because of Merlin's interference.
"The stranger arrived while the prince recovered from the blow. He was unfocused, but determined to continue the battle. That is how he knew the stranger was skilled, but now the precise nature he defeated the creature."
"Exactly." Arthur nodded, trying to look as if that wasn't new to him. His father gave him a suspicious look, but thankfully turned his attention away from Merlin.
"Very well. We shall just have to be thankful there are strangers in our forest more skilled than you are, Arthur."
"Yes, Sire," Arthur said through gritted teeth. He was beginning to feel he preferred it when he had no idea what happened. He would raise up any of his men who had performed such an act of bravery, but it grated on him having to make up a fictional saviour.
"Go and rest," Uther said. He turned away; his actions more dismissive than his words. "We'll increase the patrols."
"Yes, Sire," Arthur said again. He turned, motioning for Merlin to follow him. Neither of them spoke until they were out in the corridor.
Arthur glared, unsure why he was angry: the fact that Merlin had saved the day again, or that he had drawn the king's attention when he should be trying to disappear through the floor.
"Sacrificed myself for my men, did I?"
Merlin shrugged. "You're welcome."
"And this skilled stranger?"
"Well, he did scare off the creature."
"Did he?"
"Didn't he?" Merlin countered. Arthur stopped, and Merlin followed suit a few paces down the corridor when he realised he was on his own. He turned back, looking surprised. "What?"
"We both know there wasn't a stranger."
"I thought there was?" Merlin said, "I mean, how else would the beast be defeated?"
"How else, indeed?" Arthur's teeth were gritted. There was a wide-eyed look of innocence on Merlin's face and Arthur cursed himself for ever being fooled by it. But they were standing in the middle of the corridor - he couldn't call the man out on the truth where anyone could overhear them.
"Come on," he growled, continuing towards his rooms. Merlin followed, but neither said anything until the door was shut behind them. Arthur wasn't certain he could hold onto his temper if his servant lied to him again.
As Merlin set about tidying the room - something he only did when he was trying to avoid questions - Arthur decided enough was enough.
"I know."
Blunt, straight-forward talking was the only way he was going to get through this conversation.
"You know what?"
"You know."
"I don't know."
"I know you know."
"What do you think you know?"
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes and trying to gather his strength.
"Merlin. I know about you."
He thought his servant was going to deny it, or carry on with the misdirection to derail the entire conversation. But something in Arthur's expression must have given him away. Merlin paled, then swallowed.
"What, exactly, do you know?" He asked, his tone quiet and less confident than before. Arthur arched an eyebrow.
"I know how that creature was defeated. I know why that sorcerer was forced to flee in the forest. I know why Rolund didn't get a sword in his back."
Merlin felt blindly behind him until he found the edge of the bed and he sat down, gaze not leaving Arthur's face.
"How long have you known?" he whispered. He looked pale, but Arthur took courage from the fact he hadn't fled. Then he realised he was standing in front of the door and his sword was still strapped to his hip.
"A while," Arthur admitted. He was struggling to remember when he'd first seen through the blatant lies and realised what Merlin was concealing.
"Are you angry?"
"I should be," Arthur said. He'd had a few days of being angry, then a few more of being hurt. Then he'd landed them in this situation by wanting to see what Merlin would come up with next.
"Should? You're not?"
"No. I'm…" Arthur trailed off, trying to think of how he was feeling. Merlin didn't push him, but after a few moments, started shifting uncomfortably.
"Arthur?"
"I'm stressed!" Arthur blurted out. He surprised himself as much as Merlin by how loud his voice came out. They both glanced at the door, but it was firmly shut.
"You're… stressed?" Merlin sounded cautious, no longer certain where the conversation was going. If he was honest, Arthur didn't either. He hadn't realised how he was feeling until he said it.
"Yes, Merlin," he said, "I'm stressed. Do you have any idea how many ridiculous things I've said or done over the last few months trying to keep your secret? Honestly, without me, someone would have found out."
"You've been coming up with ridiculous stories?"
"Does your magic stop your ears working? Yes! Telling Lucian someone was going to shoot him even when no one had a crossbow? Pretending to be unconscious more times than I can count so you could get on and do what you needed to do because otherwise you froze like the idiot you are?"
"You were pretending?"
"Don't look so surprised, you must have realised I suddenly had a tendency to get knocked out in every ambush."
"Well, actually-," Merlin trailed off at the fierce look Arthur shot him.
"And then today!" Arthur was pacing now. "Some stupid story about a strong stranger charging into the midst to save the day, making myself look bad in the process. What if my father started asking questions?"
"We've handled it before."
"We've… what?"
"The Avanc. The griffin. Lancelot struck the blow but-," Merlin swallowed. "You never realised magic was involved then as well, did you?"
"Obviously magic was involved," Arthur drawled, trying to hide the shock. He thought he had figured everything out. Merlin was a terrible liar - so how was it there were elements of their past that he still hadn't figured out? Gaius had said only magic could kill the creature, and Arthur had never thought too deeply into what had ended the beast, only that it had gone.
"Arthur, I've been doing this for years. If you hadn't said anything, your father wouldn't have questioned it."
Arthur suddenly felt he was the one who needed to sit down now. He fumbled for his chair, sinking into it while trying to keep some element of composure.
"You've been covering for me?" Merlin said softly. He stood up, colour returning to his cheeks.
"What do you think, you idiot?"
"And you're not mad at me?"
"I'm absolutely furious," Arthur said in a flat tone, "you've made my father believe I'm not able to protect my kingdom."
"You were the one who invented the story," Merlin pointed out. "So, what happens next? What are you going to do?"
"What do you mean? I've covered for you this long, haven't I? What happens next is you stop hesitating out there when it's just us to see if I'm conscious or not and get on with saving the day so I don't have to fake it, understand?"
"You admit I'm the one saving the day then?"
"I said nothing of the sort. I'm ordering you to act as soon as there is a threat."
Merlin blinked, trying to figure out the contradiction.
"Yes, Sire," he said slowly, as if expecting a trap in Arthur's words.
"We're also going to get these stories sorted before reporting to the king in future. I'm not having my father think I'm incompetent or a fool. That's your job."
"Thanks."
Arthur shrugged at Merlin's dry tone. "He already thinks it, so you've got nothing to lose. It's your job to protect me, as you've been going on about all these years. Well, that's going to have to include protecting my reputation."
"What do I get out of this?" Merlin sounded indignant, but Arthur smirked.
"How about your life given that I should have turned you in months ago?"
"Fair point," Merlin said, losing his put-out expression. Then he frowned.
"What do you get out of it?" he added quietly.
Arthur knew what he meant. He didn't mean the obvious protection. He wanted to know why Arthur was prepared to continue committing treason. Arthur shrugged.
"Good help is hard to find. You're not as terrible as you were: I'd hate to have to get a new servant if you do something inconvenient like getting your head chopped off."
"So, this is for your benefit?"
"Of course," Arthur shrugged, "I am the Prince of Camelot, everything is for my benefit."
Merlin finally met his eye properly. There was wonder and astonishment on his expression and Arthur felt humbled that he had been the one to put it there. Merlin smiled at him, dipping his head in gratitude.
"Thank you, Sire," he murmured without any of his usual sarcasm.
Arthur returned the gesture. "It's not a free pass," he warned, "I don't want you using your powers for your chores."
Merlin rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face that told Arthur he already did exactly that and if the prince hadn't caught him out up until now, he wasn't about to change.
Arthur stood, unbuckling his sword and tossing it on the table. "Now, go and get dinner, would you?"
As Merlin grumbled and scuffed his way from the room, Arthur allowed himself a smile. Nothing was going to change between them, he was certain of that. He learnt months ago that Merlin was genuine: he hid things but he didn't conceal his true self.
Now, at least, they might get through this without the king thinking they had both lost their minds.