Chapter Text
The walls glow that familiar sparkly white.
*
There is a little boy climbing a giant apple tree.
Said boy is easily identifiable with the ears sticking out of his head and the familiar red neckerchief he wears, even if he can't be older than four years old.
Mordred feels his insides twist. He feels anxious (read: at his wits' end) and excited (read: thrilled!!!) about what he knows will be revealed. He cannot wait to see the other's reactions (he feels fear rising up and threatening to choke him).
And Merlin keeps rising up.
He had feared all afternoon that the secret about Emrys would be revealed and now that's it's about to happen he is divided between being awed at witnessing the man's earliest acts of magic and nervous for him. Because even if the King has declared than the ban of magic would be revoked, even if he assured it a second time despite learning how his wife the Queen was treated by it, Mordred cannot escape feeling anxious about his and everyone else's reactions. Mordred has seen several times how people react to learning others have magic. It's not only about the craft being punishable by death, it's about the lying. It's about knowing someone you trusted has lied to you for years. It's about feeling like the person you thought you knew was only a stranger.
It does not matter if the magic user had no choice but to hide, nor that choosing to share the secret would have only meant endangering the secret sharer. What the non magic user is left with is this feeling of betrayal.
Mordred knows all too well how that ends.
Of course he is worried that even with the King's earnest declarations, and everything he learned today about each of them and Merlin's other secrets, he won't react well. Mordred thinks the same for his fellow knights, who have known Merlin almost as long as the King.
He glances at Gwaine, who is still standing by his side and watching child Merlin climb the apple tree with mirth in his eyes. Gwaine who is almost as close to Merlin as Arthur is. How will he react?
Fretting, Mordred looks back at the memory the cave's displaying for them. He suddenly notices that the little boy is not just climbing a tree to amuse himself, but reaching for a most shiny apple, ignoring all the other ones. He also notes that this apple is farthest from the others, at the end of a thin branch and that there is no sure way to attain it. The branch bellow is just as thin. The one above is too far. And there is not enough for Merlin to grip and shake the branch until the apple fall from being disturbed.
It only leaves magic.
It leaves him surprised. The memory is so innocent and incongruent. Mordred had expected to see more grand acts of magic like self ignited fires, levitated objects or trees falling. Things that used to be the norm is the druid camps Mordred grew up in. Albeit, trees falling by themselves did not happen, not with magic at least. But Mordred grew up on tales of Emrys and the mighty power his possesses. Why would not he be able to blow trees from their firm earthen roots even at such a young age? Although he guesses that it makes sense that it'd be the first memory that shows Emrys, Merlin he admonishes himself, displaying his magic. Because Merlin is both innocent and incongruent (or at least it is how he chooses to remember him, it is how he saw him as the first time they met, not the bitter, suspicious man he is now). Why would not he use magic for something as innocuous as getting himself an apple?
He expects him to use magic to get that apple.
He holds his breath for it.
Merlin never uses his magic.
Instead, the child he is pushes himself closer to his little heart's desire and does not notice when the branch he is settled on slowly starts to crack.
Merlin does not have the time to make a sound.
He falls
hard on the ground bellow
and the sound his neck makes when it cracks will forever haunt Mordred.
*
Arthur is not sure he understands.
There is a little boy with Merlin's features and Merlin's coloring lying dead bellow a stupid apple tree.
He thought the cave was about to reveal one last secret (the last before they are finally allowed to leave this thrice damned place to reach Merlin and makes sure he is alright and rejoin Guinevere in Camelot). Merlin's secret, to be exact. So why is it showing them a little boy's death?
Is this because he looks like Merlin? It is only playing with their minds?
No. Arthur has to remind himself that it is just a cave and that, despite the feeling he gets, it is not sentient. It does not have goddamn feelings. It can't feel hurt or spiteful. It has no reason to show them the death of a boy resembling a younger Merlin without reason. This boy must have played a part in Merlin's past. What Arthur must find is: what part? How does this little boy relates to Merlin having magic?
An idea forms in his mind and shakes his very foundation: did Merlin use to have a brother? One that he lost when they were young? Merlin, as he was forced to realize, keeps things very close to his chest. So Arthur does not reject what he would have once thought so impossible. Maybe this boy used to be Merlin's brother and... And what? The gods out there decided to gift him magic so he would have something to occupy himself with instead of dealing with his grief?!
Honestly, at this point, Arthur would be ready to believe even the most unbelievable things.
Arthur ponders some more, doing his best to keep his gaze away from the small body -because he may have seen a lot of gruesome things but looking at the corpse of a child will never be easy- when something he can't name makes him look back.
Is it him or are the child's eyes not looking so glassy?
The boy's eyes blink.
Arthur jumps back in fright.
*
The unnaturally placed limbs retake their natural place.
The neck settles back in its usual angle.
The boy's eyes blink. And blink again.
And the little boy sits. And the little boy stares at his surroundings with a little frown on his face. And the little boy pouts until he catches sight of a fallen apple near the tree.
He beams and reaches for it. He stands and runs. And runs. And runs, his legs going as fast as they can, like one of them has never been broken. Like he has never been broken. Dead.
The little boy runs to a familiar woman. 'Look what I've got you, mommy.'
Hunith of Ealdor chuckles fondly at her son. 'Thank you, cariad.'
And Mordred, somewhere in the cacophony in his head and the overwhelming thumps of his heart, finds that he finally understands the meaning of Emrys.
*
Gwaine wonders if all the drinks he drank and all the knocks to the head he got over the years finally got to his head. Since what he just witnessed can't really have happened.
Right?
'Hunith,' an older man is saying, 'you already know.'
It's another memory. Once that will hopefully makes more sense that what Gwaine thinks he has just seen (he and the other knights, who are all looking rather rattled. Not that Gwaine is rattled. Gwaine is... mulling over this).
This memory takes place in Merlin's chidhood home. Merlin's mother is shaking her head viciously, obviously rejecting the man's words. Her gaze is lost on a trembling shape lying on a bed. The mop of black hair that is visible under the covers is the only thing that gives away tiny Merlin's presence.
'There is nothing either of us can do,' the man continues, making Gwaine frown.
Merlin's mother keeps on shaking her head and twisting her hands together.
'I'm sorry but you have to accept it. Merlin will be gone by morning.'
Hunith holds back a sob.
Gwaine feels his heart drop.
Not again, he silently pleads.
The man, a physician like Gaius?, walks to Hunith. He extends a hand as if to offer her comfort, but stops centimeters from her arm.
'What are you waiting for?,' Gwaine growls, fury threatening to boil over.
Merlin's mother is on the verge of crying having heard that her only child is dying, and the man hesitates to comfort her? If the scene was happening now instead of being a simple memory, Gwaine would knock the useless man to the ground.
The man, who is a really wretched physician, lets his hand drop. 'I am truly sorry,' he repeats.
Hunith does not watch him leave. She steps closer to the bed and passes her hand through Merlin's dark locks. She starts to hum and continues even when the sounds keep getting broken by her cries.
Gwaine feels both broken by the scene and anxious. Because the first memory was about Merlin coming back to life, there is no denying. Could this one be about another miraculous recovery?
And why is no one there with Merlin and his mother?!!
*
It is the middle of the night.
Hunith has stopped singing. Her form is bent on the ground while her head is on the bed and a hand is left lying on her son.
The figure under the bed has stopped trembling.
Gwaine instinctually knows Merlin is dead.
He recognizes that something deep within him is breaking.
*
Hunith wakes up to an empty bed. The fear he sees on her face is the same he feels inside his stomach. Where is Merlin?! Did someone take him during the night?
Hunith rises rapidly and leaves the bedroom, stumbling into her house's main room, only to fall on her knees from shock.
Merlin, who must be about seven now, is smiling widely at his mother and playing on the ground with stray figures. He does not look on the edge of death, like the man depicted. There is not even a trace of fatigue on his healthy face, nothing remains of the deadly sickness that had taken a hold of him.
'Hello, mommy,' his little friend greets his mother (greets them all).
Hunith is too mystified to respond, Gwaine understands that all too well. She crawls to her son and hugs him lightly, as if unsure that the state Merlin is in is for real or a mere illusion.
Is it an illusion? Until now the cave has only showed the truth, even the one about Arthur's birth, so why would it lie about that? And yet: another miraculous recovery? It sounds too good to be true. It sounds like magic. However the cave has showed no one using magic to bring his friend back. It only showed Merlin. Gwaine glances at Arthur. Could it be that Merlin has magic? Is this what Lancelot had been hiding so protectively? If so why did not he tell Gwaine? Does not Merlin know he can trust him?
But no. That does not make a lick of sense. Magic can do a lot, hell considering the truth about Arthur's birth, he can even say that magic can do anything including creating life. However there needs to be a spell, a ceremony, something. Nonetheless, nothing was performed for Merlin's returns. He just came back to life.
Gwaine frowns heavily. His mind is doing cartwheels under his glorious hair.
Even if Merlin has magic, it should not make him impervious to death. Sorcerers can die, it would be known if they could pop back from the afterlife. Uther Pendragon would certainly have found ways to make their existence more miserable if mass executions had failed him. So what makes Merlin so special?
(Mind you, Gwaine has always known his friend is special, but it had to do with the kind of man Merlin is at heart, not with his oddities.)
*
There is no longer contesting that that little boy was Merlin. Not when the next memory shows them a grown up Merlin, as he was when he first came to Camelot almost ten years ago, dancing merrily in the middle of the night with other people his age around a campfire.
It surprises Arthur to see him like that. Not only because it pushes the few remaining doubts he had held onto concerning Merlin's situation-
alright, he'll say it: immortality. And oh gods, Merlin is Immortal. Merlin has Magic and is Immortal. (Yes, it deserved the capitals.) What is Arthur supposed to do with the knowledge?! Magic he can handle. Or at least, he is fairly sure he can after everything he absorbed today, but Immortality????? That is supposed to concerned gods not mortals like him.
'Mortals,' Arthur laughs a bit hysterically.
Arthur is a mortal and Merlin is decidedly not. Arthur is about this close to have a conniption!
-but because it has been a long time since Arthur has seen Merlin act so carefree. Really, when was the last time his friend smiled genuinely? When was the last time he laughed as joyously as this younger Merlin does, twisting a young woman around?
This Merlin is a thin and frail bony figure, he looks as if a strong wind could be enough to wound him. His Merlin has gained build and muscles over the years -somehow. Despite of that, this Merlin looks better than his. Probably because he's not as weighed down by secrets and battles.
'Oh oh,' he hears Gwaine say grimly, startling him from his thoughts.
Arthur shakes his head and looks back at the cave's wall, searching for the trouble Merlin undoubtedly found. This Merlin may be quite different from his, but if there is something that hasn't changed over the years, it's the man's propensity to attract trouble.
Indeed, Arthur notices that Merlin's gaze has landed on a disturbing scene: a burly man, his body enclosing a young and obviously distressed woman against a brick wall. Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, already knowing that Merlin will go to defend her and be harmed because of it, even if he can't help but silently applaud his friend for his bravery.
'It's going to happen again, isn't it?', Percival asks in a low voice.
Arthur holds back a curse. He keeps on looking at Merlin approaching the unwilling couple, something curling uneasily in his stomach.
The first two memories where of Merlin dying and coming back to life. Without any signs of magic being used. It'd make sense that this one is also about his friend dying and coming back from the dead.
Arthur has no wish of watching it. Seeing a child Merlin was already more than enough (the only thing had that kept him from crying the first time was disbelief that this boy really was Merlin despite the striking resemblance, the second was not actually seeing it) but being forced to witness the Merlin he first met die? The Merlin he had started everything with, the one who drank poison for him and for whom he'd believed he'd drank poison for as well?
Arthur can't bear it.
Nonetheless...
Arthur can't abandon Merlin like that.
Does it matter if it is only a memory? If it already happened and Arthur was not here at the time to be there for Merlin, did not even know him at the time? Merlin is Arthur's friend right now, despite all the lies and secrets that stand between them. Arthur refuses to close his eyes when his friend is about to meet his end, even if it's already the third time.
(It is the third time? Or is the cave choosing to show them only a few of Merlin's deaths instead of all of them? Arthur dearly hopes it's not the later.)
He forces himself to watch as Merlin admonishes the man who is too big for you, Merlin, what are you thinking by going against him alone and unharmed? Who cares if you have magic when you can't be seen using it??!
He watches as the man snarls and takes a step closer to his too thin and frail friend, leaving the scared out of her wits woman free to skitter away.
He stays unflinching when the man takes an empty glass bottle and knocks it violently against his friend's head, knocking him out cold on the ground.
He threatens to pop a blood vessel when the man beats Merlin's soft ribs with his foot, without noticing the small puddle of blood that is seeping out of his head.
He keeps his burning eyes open while Merlin's skin gets paler and paler, while Merlin's breath goes from harsh to slow to nothing.
He keeps staring in despair as life slips out of his friend once again.
*
Merlin wakes up.
He blinks several times, disturbed by the morning light. He furrows his brows and takes in his surroundings, apparently surprised to find himself in a deserted alley. He sits and passes a hand through his hair. His frown deepens as he takes his hand back from his head and sees it bloody.
They are graced with a view of the back of Merlin's head. Indeed, his hair is matted with blood. However, no cut is visible on it. It's as if nothing hurt their friend.
It did happened. Arthur still feels cold from what he just witnessed.
'Merlin!,' someone shouts.
Merlin inclines his head in the sound's direction and gradually rises to his feet. He stumbles against the closest wall and shakes his head. A figure enters the alley and smiles bemusedly at him.
Will, Arthur recognizes.
Merlin's unpleasant childhood friend.
Will, who most likely never was a sorcerer but a friend who cared deeply enough for Merlin that he'd cover for him against the then-Prince of Camelot.
'There you are. Drank too much last night, didn't you Merlin?,' Will teases as he approaches his friend to lend him a hand.
Arthur feels the sudden urge to vomit.
Merlin chuckles. 'Yes, I think so.' Merlin accepts his childhood friend's arm, leaning heavily against his side. 'You won't tell mum. Right Will?'
Will huffs. 'Of course not. Hunith would sooner box my ears. Hell, my mom would box both our ears were she to learn about our escapade.'
Merlin bursts into laughter. 'That she would.'
'What were you up to anyway?,' Will demands as they walk out of the alley, then the village, waving at the few people they come across on their way. 'I was dancing with Mabel when I lost sight of you. You didn't get into trouble, did you?'
Merlin makes a face and glances in the direction of the alley he woke up in. Arthur leans closer to the wall, studying his face. Merlin gives a little shake of his head before he winces from the effort. 'I don't actually remember,' he ends up saying.
Arthur blinks in stupor.
Surely... he must know?
Will looks sideways at him pensively, before he seems to settle on a decision. 'Well, whatever happened, I'm sure it mustn't have been too terrible. Otherwise, I'd have found you in a worst state.'
Merlin grins amusedly. 'You sure would have,' he agrees, looking for all the world like he did not just come back to life after being beaten black and blue by a brute.
And Arthur gets hit by another terrible realization.
'He doesn't know,' Arthur declares as he shakes his head in disbelief? Despair? Exhaustion? All of it. Arthur pulls at his hair and curses loudly, the sound echoing in the stupid cave.
Only that moron would be immortal and not have a clue about it.
*
'Hold his nose,' Gaius is demanding.
They are in the physician's chambers. Younger and sickly pale Merlin is lying on a patient cot while Gaius and a Gwen who still dressed in servant's clothes are hovering over him. Younger Gwen pinches Merlin's nose per Gaius' instructions as the man pours a liquid into Merlin's mouth.
'Swallow, Merlin,' Gaius encourages his ward. 'Swallow it.'
A moment passes and nothing happens.
'He's stopped breathing,' Gwen comments breathlessly. 'What's happening? Gaius?'
Gaius is visibly stunned.
Of course he would be. Merlin is basically his son.
Gaius hastens to puts his head on Merlin's chest, listening for his heartbeat.
He raises his head. 'His heart has stopped.'
Gwen stares at Merlin uncomprehendingly. 'He's dead?'
Gaius shakes his head. 'He can't be. He can't be. It was his destiny.'
Destiny?, he thinks idly. Gwaine finds that it is easier to focus on their voices than on the view before him. It is already the fourth time he has seen Merlin die but he notes that it does not get easier. Hell, bleeding tears are blurring his sight and there is a burning this chest.
He wants to lay on the ground and weep like a babe. The only thing that is stopping him is the knowledge that present Merlin is safe and unharmed and alive, standing just outside that blasted cave.
... He is alive and unharmed, isn't he?
'It's my fault,' he distantly hears the younger version of his Queen utter.
'Mordred,' he hisses, shaking the right shoulder on his fellow knight.
'If I'd have got here sooner,' Gwen continues.
Mordred painstakingly turns his back from the cave's wall to look at him with glassy eyes. Little bean certainly looks as shaken as him. If Gwaine had time to offer reassuring words and a few sips of ale, he would.
He does not have the time.
'Merlin. He is still alright?'
Mordred's stares turns incredulous, as well as a bit angry.
In front of them, Gwen is still blaming herself: 'If I'd have been quicker...'
Gwaine tries to shut her and Gaius's voices away. 'Not this Merlin,' he rejects. 'Our Merlin. Present Merlin. The one outside the cave. He is still alright?!', he presses.
Mordred's eyes regain clarity. Good. He tilts his head to the side and stays still for a couple of beats.
'No, no. It was me,' Gaius voices. 'I should've looked after him better. It's my fault.'
'That's disgusting,' Merlin suddenly teases, making Gwaine look at him with wide eyes.
Gwaine really does not think he'll ever get used to it.
'You should be ashamed of yourself,' his best friend goes on. 'You're old enough to be her grandfather.'
Gwaine feels a delirious laugh bubble in his throat.
'Merlin,' Gaius breathes out. 'You're alive.'
'No. I'm the ghost come back to haunt you,' his friend smiles smugly.
'Yes, I sure can believe that,' Gwaine mutters.
...And then Gwen kisses him.
Huh.
'Didn't see that coming,' he comments, eyeing his King's with faint mirth.
'Yes,' Mordred finally answers, making him twist around to face him. 'Merlin is alright. Safe and unharmed.'
'Sorry, I'm just...I thought you were dead,' Gwen explains.
Percival, who had gotten closer to them during Merlin's grand secret revelation without Gwaine's notice, takes the younger Gwen's words as a cue and quietly insists: 'And he is alive?'
'And he is alive,' Mordred replies with certitude.
On the cave's walls, Merlin looks baffled but way more alive than he was a few minutes earlier. 'It's fine. It's more than fine. Erm.. What happened? The last thing I remember is drinking the wine.'
Also, it finally confirms Gwaine's last doubts: Merlin really has no memories of his little comebacks.
*
The younger version of Merlin is standing amidst a crowd, looking baffled at the sight before him. Whatever it is, it has the rest of the crowd yelling in excitement and laughing.
Mordred guesses Merlin and the crowd are acting as spectators to some spectacle. Maybe a tournament. Mordred had seen one once when he was 'visiting' villages in his youth (pilfering merchant stalls after his banishment from all druid camps) but has yet to see any in Camelot. He supposes things would be different now that he's a knight. He'd probably be asked to participate instead of being an observer.
He wonders if this is another one of Merlin's deaths. He dearly hopes it's not. Although it would surprise him as until now every death happened in places with very few witnesses and the knights of the Round Table would have certainly been less shocked if they had already known about Merlin's ability before.
Merlin's ability, he scoffs inwardly. As if coming back to life is a mere trick. Mordred shakes his head, still stunned by what he has learned and a bit irritated with himself.
Of course, Mordred grew up on tales of Emrys. Their mighty savior, the most powerful sorcerer to ever grace the earth they are marching on, connected to every breathing creature and capable to do the most spectacular feats; rewriting time, turning day into night and having power over life and death.
The legend in itself is extraordinary. Emrys is a god among mankind.
Merlin is a man.
Or course, when Mordred met him as a child and was rescued by him, he learned that Merlin has nothing to envy his legendary counterpart. The man is just as grand as the sorcerer. And when he was still a child, Mordred thought him to be the best man he knew.
And then Merlin tried to get him killed.
And the druids Mordred lived with discovered it and banished him from their encampment and from any other druids camp.
Mordred became a pariah.
It is only now that he's been reintegrated into society, as a knight of Camelot of all things, that Mordred sees the truth about Merlin/Emrys.
Emrys is grand, yes. Grander than he thought. Because Mordred, in all his wildest dreams, never expected Emrys to be blessed enough by the gods that they would gift him with immortality. Mordred had mistakenly thought that Emrys meant 'Forever' as in: the legendary figure will forever be remembered. The tales had been told for centuries before Emrys came into life, after all. Why would Mordred, and all the other druids he had met, think otherwise?
However, Merlin is a man. And while Mordred does not think him the best of man any longer, he recognizes that Merlin is trying. And that with all the secrets and the horrors he must have faced leaving as a hidden sorcerer in Camelot, he is bound to be a conflicted person. Merlin is only a man, a living breathing one, with the virtues and flaws of one. Mordred kept forgetting that.
He certainly won't now. Not after everything he has seen and heard in that cave. Not after seeing Merlin die and come back repeatedly. Because Emrys may have been blessed by the gods, but Merlin won't see his immortality as a gift, of that Mordred is sure. He'll see it as a curse. And maybe, as a real man with real flaws and burdens and a heavy past, he'll see it as a well deserved punishment.
(And maybe if Mordred had been feeling particularly vindictive, he'd have thought so as well.)
The crowd is still gushing and crying vibrantly. The Merlin Mordred remembers, the kind and easily trusting one, keeps on smiling bemusedly at whatever he is watching with the rest of the crowd.
Mordred aches for this Merlin.
It is then that it happens: a blond woman makes her way through the crowd, getting closer and closer to Merlin until she stands just behind him. There is nothing special about her; she is dressed in peasants' garbs, has a common nose and a common forehead and petite lips. In spite of that, Mordred recognizes the look in her eyes all too well: the open awe and the burning will to cherish. He knows it because he still wears it way too often.
The druid, because she can only be a druid or maybe a soothsayer?, gets even closer to past Merlin until less than a foot separates them. She says: 'it means Forever.'
Her words don't surprise Mordred. What does surprise him is that she seems to understand the title's significance better than he ever did before this day. And that she'd decide to come to Merlin and tell him. Mordred had understood early on that the older druids refused to implicate themselves into Emrys/Merlin's life, despite wishing desperately that he'd succeed in his destiny and bring upon the time of Albion. So what was that woman thinking by going against her kin's intentions?
(Not that Mordred really blames her. While he forgave Merlin a long time ago for what happened between the two of them, he never did forgive the druids for abandoning him.)
Merlin, who was to focused on the entertainment happening in front of him, startles and slightly turns his head to meet the blond woman's gaze. 'What does?'
'Your name,' she answers reverently, her eyes fixed feverishly on his features.
Merlin smiles at her with perplexity. 'Actually my name is Merlin. My mother named me after the bird.' His smile turns apologetic. 'I'm sorry, ma'am. But you've got the wrong man.'
He turns his back on her, his attention being taken once again by the spectacle.
The druid is not offended. She smiles at his back, fondness displayed openly on her face. 'I do not, Emrys.'
(Yes, if Mordred was a lesser man, or just a really bitter and/or vindictive one, he'd mull that revealation with boundless merriment. However, it is forgetting that Mordred is also just a man, one with a past and all the mistakes that implies. One with faults and burdens. He understands Merlin more than he ever understood Emrys. And he cares for him way more than the druid he used to be cared for a distant legendary figure.
Mordred does not wish for Merlin to be hurt. Even if he is aware that the feeling is very unreciprocated.)
The druid smiles one last time before the memory evaporates in one last spark of white.
Mordred only gets the time to think how did she found out the true meaning of Emrys?! before his hearing gets attacked.
*
'WHAT?!,' several voices shout in unison.
'Did she really call Merlin Emrys?,' Elyan is asking hesitantly, his gaze going from the cave's walls to Mordred and back again.
'Mordred,' Leon calls the younger knight warily. 'Is this true?'
Mordred does not have the time to answer. A blinding light, a different one that the cave's, illuminates them.
'It's open!,' Gwaine screams among the chaos.
The men blink several times to acclimate themselves to the light of the sun. They (try to) look at each other for a moment before rushing towards the exit.
Fresh air. The vibrant green of the forest's trees and grass. The sound of birds singing. Merlin tying horses' reins to trees.
Merlin.
*
They flee the cave, their hearts fill to the brim with painreliefuneasinesshurt.
Merlin is here. Only a few meters from them. He is still tying his horse's reins to a nearby tree. The sight of him stops them in their tracks.
Merlin levels his gaze from his task. He frowns in confusion. 'You're done already?'
Leon's chortle sounds nothing less than mad. Merlin eyes him dubiously.
It is Gwaine that answers him: 'What do you mean 'already'?! We've been gone for hours!' Merlin stares blankly at him. 'What are you doing with the horses' reins?'
Merlin looks from the reins to them. '...Is this a trick question?'
Gwaine lets out a pained sound and rushes to him. Merlin jumps when the man embraces him.
'Wha-?'
Gwaine buries his head in the crook of his neck.
'Did something happen?' Merlin enquires, looking at Arthur. His hands are in the air, as if he is hesitant to put them on Gwaine's back and return the embrace.
Arthur can only stare back at him. His fists are clenching on nothing. He feels the urge to run to Merlin, push Gwaine away and be the one to hold Merlin in the fiercest of hugs.
Arthur can't. He needs answers first. Yes, answers. Learning about Merlin's Immortality does not change anything. The man still lied to Arthur for years. And even if Arthur understands why he lied in the first place, or at least he thinks he understands why, after so many years Merlin should have known better than to believe Arthur would turn against him because of magic. Because if there ever was one argument in favor of magic (aside from the fact that the reason for the magic ban was only a fabricated lie spun by his father) it's that Merlin has it. Magic could never be the evil his father made it to be if Merlin has it.
And Arthur cares for Merlin. Even if he is not too sure about trust, not after everything he learned this day, he cares an awful lot for the damn fool.
Merlin is family to Arthur.
That's this realization that finally gets him to move.
Yes, they'll have words. Yes, Arthur will get angry. Yes, it'll take time to rebuilt trust between the two of them (all of them, really) and to make sure that this time around Merlin actually trusts Athur with himself instead of keeping his distance. But he knows they will work for it and will be better for it.
Arthur approaches the mess than gwaineandmerlin has become, grabs Merlin from Gwaine, startling a huff of surprise from the servant and a disgruntled groan from the knight, and embraces Merlin strongly.
'Did someone die?,' Merlin demands when Arthur won't let go of him, only half joking.
Arthur does not reply, only tightens his hold on him.
Merlin relaxes and slowly squeezes back.
*
Leon is the one to ask the question while they travel back to Camelot: 'I'm not sure I understand. What is Merlin's secret?'
'He's immortal and he doesn't know it,' Mordred answers promptly.
Arthur exchanges a glance with each of his knights, except for Gwaine who is several paces ahead of them with Merlin at his side.
'But he's Emrys,' Elyan argues, although it is obvious he is struggling as much as they are about what it means. 'Wait. Does he know he's Emrys?'
'Lancelot knew Merlin's secret. How could he have if Merlin himself does not?!,' Leon adds.
Mordred keeps on avoiding their eyes, staying focused on Merlin and Gwaine's backs. 'He knows he has magic and he knows he is Emrys. He does not know he is immortal. I suppose Lancelot knew about the magic, not the immortality.'
'How can he not know?,' Elyan and Leon demand in unison, Elyan bewildered and Leon appearing this close to jump off his horse to run in the nearest ditch and scream his head off.
'Why would he when he never keeps any memories of it?,' Percival replies in Mordred's stead.
'But Emrys,' Elyan insists while Leon mumbles Merlin has magic with shock. 'She gave him the meaning of it!'
Mordred bites his cheek. 'I have known what Emrys translates as since I was a small child. Although I never really understood its meaning. I thought it was the legend that was immortal, as it has been told for centuries already. Not the man himself.'
'How did this happen? People aren't supposed to be born immortal?!'
'I don't know, Sir Leon! I'm not omniscient!'
Arthur decides to intervene before Mordred and Leon lose their temper and come to blows. 'What do you mean 'centuries'?'
It has the result to calm Mordred. 'I think you'd be best asking Merlin, Sir.'
'I will,' Arthur agrees, 'once we're safely back in Camelot. But Merlin is a master at keeping secrets,' he grins grimly. 'I'd rather have your version of the facts before I hear his.'
'He'll be pleased,' Mordred mumbles.
*
'What's with them?' Merlin asks a distracted Gwaine.
The rest of the knights, which includes Arthur and Mordred who are way too close to each other for his comfort, are several steps behind Gwaine and he and whispering suspiciously to each other.
They've all been acting extra weird since they exited that cave. The cave that, Merlin had to reassure them several times, they only spent less than two minutes in.
It makes no sense. Even with magic involved. Merlin would have noticed if more time had passed. He looks at his surroundings, at the trees that are vibrating with life, at the sun that has not moved between the knights' entry in the cave and now.
He shakes his head in irritation. Must be another prank.
'I can't tell you yet,' Gwaine finally responds.
Another thing that does not make sense: Gwaine acting meek with him. Meek and unsure. As if Gwaine just witnessed his favorite apple pie being stolen and devoured by Morgana.
Merlin narrows his eyes. 'Mmmh.'
Gwaine's reassuring grin is a weak one. 'We will tell you once we're back in Camelot. With Guinevere. And Gaius.'
Merlin hums again.
'Merlin,' his friend says, stopping his horse and putting his hand on Merlin's to halt his own. Merlin looks back at him. Gwaine stares at him, searching his face for something. 'You know that whatever happens I'll be there for you. Right?' Merlin looks blankly at him. 'We all will,' he adds, jerking his head in the knights' direction. 'Even if things get hard. Or if feelings get hurt in the process. We will be there for you, the same way you've been there for us.'
Merlin's feels his eyes burn. Even if the knights and he used to be close, there is no denying that distance that has grown between them those last years.
Once upon a time, the knights would not have forgotten him in enemies' land.
Lancelot would not have.
'You can count on us,' Gwaine continues, his eyes deep into Merlin's own. 'And I'm sorry if we don't often show it to you.'
No matter what Merlin thought previously, he was wrong. Something definitely happened in that cave.
'I'm sorry if you didn't think you could trust us. If you still don't think so now.'
'What?!,' Merlin hears Arthur shout in the back. Merlin recognizes his friend is still too far away from Gwaine and he to have heard Gwaine's words, so it must be a reaction to whatever the other knights are saying.
However, he finds that it is an apt reaction to his own feelings: shock. Stupefaction. Bewilderment.
How could Gwaine know that Merlin does not totally trust them? Does he also know why he can't?
Gwaine swallows thickly. He tries to smile at him but his lips tremble instead. 'I think the first step will be for all of us to drop the masks we've kept on since we first met.' He puts his hand off Merlin's stead and put it on Merlin's right arm. He presses gently. 'Then we'll work on building trust in each other.'
Merlin wets his drying lips. 'Between the knights and I?'
'Between us and you and Guinevere and Gaius. All of us. Members of the Round Table.'
'I'm not a member of the Round Table,' he refutes immediately, his brain feeling fuzzy.
'You were once. At the original table. I think it's hard time we give you back your chair.'
'...How does Arthur feel about that?'
A grin teases the edges of Gwaine's lips. 'Arthur is all for it. Although I suspect his attention will mainly be on repelling the ban on magic.'
Merlin's brain freezes to a halt.
'What?!'
'Yes, you heard me right, mate. The Princess is going to repel the ban on magic.'
'But- why?!,' Merlin strangles to say.
Gwaine keeps on looking disturbingly at Merlin, in Merlin's opinion. He opens his mouth, closes it at a loss of words, then opens it again: 'because a lot of things have to change.'