Chapter Text
Hold my magic tight
Sweat was dripping from the king's forehead as he slumped to the ground. He tried to regain his breath after the desperate run from the bandits that were chasing him and his servant, but the arrow lodged in his shoulder hurt like hell. He could feel warm blood oozing profusely down his arm, along his favorite tunic, making it wet and sticky.
Crouched next to him, Merlin was scrutinizing the situation, hoping to find a way out. He tried to take Arthur’s hand to get him to move again after their brief stop, but the king abruptly flinched away.
“Don’t…don’t touch me…” Arthur said with a shaky voice and a hard stare.
Merlin sighed sadly and his eyes moistened, as he mentally relived the scene that unfolded only a few minutes earlier.
Over the years, he had often imagined the dreaded moment when he would have to confess his greatest, darkest, deepest secret to Arthur.
None of the situations that had flashed through his mind had ever seemed particularly pleasant, or even vaguely ideal. Thinking about it, the way it actually happened was a fairly common scenario; neither better nor worse than one of the many he had pictured, were it not for Arthur's wound, that needed immediate attention and left no room for lengthy explications or heart-breaking send-offs.
It all started when the king decided to escape his court duties to celebrate his birthday, and asked Merlin to accompany him on a hunt. Merlin hated hunting at least as much as he hated cleaning the king's chamber pots, and perhaps he should have suggested bringing some other knights to accompany them, in order to provide more security for the king.
But Merlin, with all his magic, was still a flawed being, and also, very much in love, which usually goes hand in hand. And well, he loved Arthur more than he loathed hunting. So, after long days of tedious court councils, household chores, and endless social engagements in which he had only managed to cross paths with the king during their rare free moments, the idea of being able to spend a full day with Arthur, on his birthday no less, was way too tempting for Merlin to worry too much about hypothetical threats. After all, he had thought, he could always count on his powers to keep the king safe.
What he hadn't thought of, however, was that this time he would be caught using them.
This is exactly what happened when a dozen bandits, came out of nowhere, had surrounded them in the middle of the forest, with every intention of harming them.
He’d even tried to be as discreet as usual, but Arthur, who clearly hadn't yet learned the importance of royal self-preservation, had stood in front of him as soon as he had spotted the flash of an arrow that would have undoubtedly struck the sorcerer in the chest if the king hadn't moved him with a violent shove.
Too bad the arrow lodged directly into Arthur's left shoulder, a bit too close to his heart for Merlin’s liking.
The blond had dropped to the ground with a cry of pain, and Merlin was left with no other choice but to wipe away the band of bandits with an imperious gesture of his hand and a golden flash from his eyes.
He didn't even have the time to worry about Arthur's shocked and frightened reaction look, because he could sense more armed men arriving in reinforcement, the horses had escaped, and the king's wound, that was already bleeding profusely, was looking like anything but reassuring.
"Sorcerer…you are a sorcerer!" said Arthur in a trembling voice.
"Arthur, we must go, please, let me help you up. I promise I will explain everything, but just…please, let’s go…there are more men coming and I can’t leave you here" Merlin had murmured, his voice broken by sadness and anguish.
"No…don’t come near… I don't...this can't be possible..."
"Arthur, we need to leave, you are hurt…please let me help, let's find a safe place where we can hide, and I will give you all the answers you want, I promise."
Still, in a state of shock, Arthur had not replied, and Merlin had taken the opportunity to forcefully pass an arm under the king's shoulders and lift him so that he could support much of his weight with his body.
And that's how they had ended up, running and stumbling through the undergrowth, in a small, hidden clearing that might give them a chance to regain their strength, and their breath, before resuming their escape.
Yet Merlin knew it was time to confront his king and give him some long overdue answers.
“You have Magic.” Arthur said slowly, after long minutes of tense silence.
Yes…yes Arthur I have magic, but please… let me take care of your wound first… it’s bad, it must hurt.” Merlin said, renewing his attempt to treat Arthur's wound.
“Don't touch me I said” replied Arthur violently, trying to get away from him. Merlin winced at hearing such coldness in the king's voice, and it seemed to him that the arrow had moved from the king's arm straight to his own heart.
“You need help.” the sorcerer repeated gently, regaining some conviction as he decided that he was going to ignore the king’s request to take a look at the ugly wound, with or without Arthur’s consent.
Before approaching the king, though, Merlin paused for a moment and looked at him with eyes filled with unshed tears: “You always need help, and I always help you Arthur. I know that you are scared of me right now, but it’s always me. It’s always Merlin, and I use my magic only for you, your kingdom, and your safety. Everything I do, I do it for you”. The sorcerer has pronounced such words with a softness and a sadness that Arthur had rarely heard together, and that he was not ready yet to process.
“I don't understand,” murmured Arthur, even if, to tell the truth, he was actually beginning to understand even too well.
The king’s mind, and also his ability to voice his thoughts, were stuck in that instant when Merlin's eyes had turned gold, and he had swiped away a dozen men with just a wave of his hand. But his heart was quickly putting together the pieces of a mystery he had never been able to solve so far. Merlin. Merlin was a sorcerer.
On the one hand, it now seemed so obvious that he felt like a fool. He must have been really blind not to realize that all that blatant luck, all those battles won against any hope, all those inexplicable situations, had, in fact, a straightforward explanation named Merlin.
Yet, on the other hand, it seemed impossible. It was impossible. It had to be at least because Merlin was loyal and safe, and kind. Merlin was his friend, his only friend, the one that taught him to be a better man and a better king. The one who was always by his side. The one who smiled at him in the morning and teased him constantly; the one and only simple thing in his life, the one and only good thing in his life.
His duty as a king, and his innate fear of rejection, had always prevented him from indulging in any kind of sentimental fantasies about Merlin’s role in his life. He knew even too well that happiness and love were never free for kings, and losing Merlin was definitely not a price he was willing to pay for trying to get it.
Merlin's faithful friendship and constant presence would have to be enough for him, and they were. Even though he had never admitted it out loud to his manservant, he was already immensely grateful to the gods for these gifts.
But now?
What was right and what was fake? Was their friendship just another lie in his life? How could Merlin, his good and clumsy Merlin, be a sorcerer? How could he trust him again?
Of course, he knew now that not all of the magic was evil. He learned that. Magic was a weapon; it could be used for good or evil. But that sword had often been pointed at him, it had tried to harm him, his family, and his friends so many times.
Magic still made him uncomfortable, it scared him in ways he might never have been able to admit out loud probably because he lost everyone he ever loved to magic…his mother, his father, Morgana…
Yet he knew that not all magic users were bad.
During his short reign, much had been done to make reparation for the sins of his father and the blood he had shed. Executions and imprisonments of magic users were practically reduced to zero in the absence of a serious crime, against the crown or other inhabitants of Camelot. Magic was not exactly legal nor encouraged, but Arthur was trying to make things right. He wanted to rule his kingdom with fairness and acceptance.
But that was not the point actually. The point was that if Merlin had magic, then Merlin…
“…lied to me… you-you lied to me…you’ve been lying to me for years.” Arthur spat out, wounded in a deeper way than an arrow to the heart ever could.
Merlin winced as he put pressure on Arthur's shoulder with one hand, while with the other pulled the arrow out with a sharp, decisive gesture. Arthur’s gritted his teeth but said nothing.
“I need to heal you Arthur, the wound is deep. We're not too far from the citadel, we can make it by foot, but not with such an open wound. And I already spent a lot of my magic energy trying to get rid of those bastards…”
“How long have you been keeping the truth from me?” Arthur said without even listening to what his servant was saying.
“A long time,” Merlin replied dryly. “Arthur please, I promise I will explain everything…just…let me take care of you now, it’s…it’s what I always do…I take care of you…and sometimes my magic helps with that”.
Arthur searched him for a long time. He could see the sorrow on the face of his manservant. He could feel that he was being somehow sincere, but he had to know. The blood loss was making him feel nauseous and dizzy, he knew he wouldn't last long without losing consciousness, yet he had to know.
“Why?” he asked, trying not to give in to pain and exhaustion, and the temptation to close his eyes and slump against the tree he was leaning against.
Merlin sighed, surrendering to the king's stubbornness, while he kept applying pressure to the wound to keep bleeding at bay. “Because you are my friend, and I don’t want to lose you” he said, trying to make his king understand that he was completely sincere, but Arthur’s stare told him that the king was not satisfied with that.
The sorcerer sighed loudly “It’s a long story Arthur…I was born this way. I always had magic. I left Ealdor because I wanted to find a place where I could fit into this world, where I could make my…my gift useful to others…”
Arthur laughed in disbelief “And you thought that place might actually be Camelot? A kingdom where you could have been killed on the spot if somebody had found out?”
Merlin looked up and glared at Arthur with a stare meant to convey all that was hidden in his heart. “For me, that place is by your side, Arthur.” he said simply.
And suddenly Arthur couldn't find anything to say in reply. His head was spinning, and his heart was beating too fast. For the blood loss, of course, and not because Merlin's words had caused him any kind of sentimental reaction. Not at all. Merlin had lied to him, and that was not excusable.
“My magic is for you. I wanted to tell you so many times, but that would have meant losing your friendship, and it was a toll I wasn't ready to pay.” Merlin went on.
“I know that you may not believe me right now. And I promise I will not try to run away or to escape if you want to pass your judgment on me once we’ll be back in Camelot. I am ready to die if you decide so”. He had said the last words in a whisper, trying to keep his tears at bay.
Arthur shut his eyes and bit his lips until he drew blood as if to banish even the thought that Merlin might think such a thing, as if he was unable to accept that his friend had to live so many years in fear of being found out, of being rejected and killed just for being…himself.
“Shut up, Merlin, just…shut up…”
“Arthur, at least… please, let me heal you now, trust me with this, I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.”
“And yet you did,” Arthur said almost involuntarily, without realizing he had given voice to a very secret thought.
Merlin shut his eyes, unable to look Arthur's disappointment in the face. In fact, he was only now discovering that the worst reaction he could get from his reveal was not the king's baleful wrath, his hatred, nor his disgust, as he had imagined so many times, but the dull pain he was reading in his eyes, the fear of having been betrayed, or worse, of never having been loved at all.
But there was no time to explain, to make Arthur understand that all of his lies were born out of all-encompassing loyalty, and the cowardice typical of all those who live in fear of losing the person they truly love.
Because Arthur was truly loved.
He knew that his case was probably a desperate one and that he would never be able to find the right words to explain all this to Arthur while they were still on the run.
The only thing he could really do at that moment was try to ease Arthur's pain, the physical one, at least: “Just…let me heal you…” he pleaded.
Arthur felt a tear streaking down his cheek and thought of the joke that his life had become. He had always been taught that no man was worth his tears, but apparently, a wizard was. Merlin had just turned his world upside down, he had shattered a bond that seemed unbreakable, yet he could not bring himself to truly fear him, let alone hate him. He looked away but nodded weakly.
“Do it. Be quick, then I want to get back to Camelot and be left alone for a while, I don’t want to deal with it right now…I need time, and distance…I can’t think straight right now”.
Merlin drew a breath of relief. He could go with time and distance if that meant that Arthur would be safe. He closed his eyes to summon all the strength he would need to heal the king's wound. Then he placed both his hands on Arthur's wounded shoulder, as he pronounced some archaic sounding words, with a voice that to the king seemed almost otherworldly: “Purhhæle licsar min”
Arthur cried out in pain, as a burning sensation took over him. But then felt a great warmth invade his body, and a sense of well-being rarely experienced before enveloping his senses.
Slowly, the pain in his arm started to fade and the king lost himself for a moment in contemplation of Merlin’s very big, very golden eyes. He felt his head as light as if he had drunk a whole bottle of wine. And just for one moment, he thought that the sorcerer actually looked like some sort of ancient god descended from heaven to rescue him, his very own hero. A beautiful hero actually.
Of course, as soon as he had regained a minimum of lucidity, he shook off all those mushy thoughts, blaming them on the physical exhaustion and the emotional upheaval of Merlin’s reveal.
“Yeah, well, thank you for that,” Arthur replied sharply, clearly embarrassed by his invisible thoughts. “I mean, it was quite painful at the beginning, but I suppose you can't expect too much from someone who trips over their own shoelaces. You're lazy also as a sorcerer”.
A faint trace of humor could be detected in Arthur's voice. It made Merlin smile a bit, warming his heart. For the first time since the disastrous reveal, the sorcerer thought that surely Arthur would have fired him, that he would have also very probably exiled him, but that perhaps, he would not have hated him.
“According to Gaius, this is an old healing spell. It's crude, but it works. It heats the skin to coagulate the blood and cauterize the wound” he said without thinking, feeling the weariness take hold of him after the double effort of battle and the spell.
To make the enchantment more effective Merlin had also tried to absorb some of Arthur's physical distress, and now the fatigue was getting the better of him. He wasn't sure he could walk again immediately. He had used almost all of his energy. He needed to rest for a few minutes.
Arthur felt another pang of disappointment run through his heart as he wondered why everyone around him always had to lie to him.
“Right, of course… Gaius, and probably half of my court already knew of your magic?”
A flash of concern crossed Merlin's eyes before Arthur grabbed his arm and immediately reassured him “I would never turn on him. I am mad at you Merlin, and disappointed, and lost, and... I want explanations. But I'm not…I am not a monster… And I am not my father…I hope that you know that.”
“I…I do know that” Merlin said, staring at his king, as a sort of strained understanding, similar to a very fragile peace, seemed to be established between them. And then, overwhelmed by the effort and tension, Merlin keeled over Arthur's chest, surrendering to the fatigue of the day.
“Merlin, what …” Arthur could not finish his sentence as a burst of thunder burst through the air. Abruptly, the king’s voice was interrupted by a greenish light that illuminated the sky, which went completely dark in just a few seconds.
The king had the distinct feeling that, if possible, the day was about to go from bad to worse. He was proven right as a poisonous voice started to rise in the air, moved by a wave of pure dark magic, that seemed to vibrate throughout the entire forest.
"You fell into my trap Emrys… you've revealed yourself Emrys, and now you can't hide anymore, come out, it's you I want, don't be a coward…join me and I will let your precious king live…"
Arthur shot Merlin a confused look, but Merlin, suddenly revived by the scary voice, wasn't looking at him. He was keeping his wide eyes fixed on the green light with a baffled expression on his face, trying to understand where the voice was coming from, and preparing to face new threats.
“Emrys…who’s Emrys?” the king asked him.
‘Well, that would be me, nice to meet you”, Merlin said with a sheepish smile, trying to lighten the situation, but without moving his hard gaze from the sky, keeping on full alert. “I mean, Emrys is what the Druids call me, and I think that whoever is speaking knows about it…”
*I have magic dark magic on my side, and you are a traitor Emrys. But if you come out into the open, and if you hand yourself over to me, I will let your king live.*
The poisonous voice resonated again through the forest as Merlin tried to make sense of the situation. He got up with some difficulty, supported by Arthur, who was now ready to get back on his feet, thanks to Merlin’s magic, and then they stood back to back, in a defensive position ready to parry an attack they didn't quite know which way it was coming from.
“All right, all right, you are Emrys, whatever that means, but why are they looking for you? What do they want from you?” Arthur asked as nervousness was getting the better of him.
*Come to me Merlin, I want you on my side, I need your magic, together we can do great things… together we can rule the world. Together we can submit everyone who does not have magic. Don't waste your power on a stupid insignificant mortal king. I will know how to best use your magic. Join me and you won’t regret it*
The voice was becoming increasingly shrill and loud, to the point that both Merlin and the king had to cover their ears to protect themselves from the terrifying sound that was invading the forest and penetrating their bones.
Merlin tried to think as fast as he could, trying to look for a way out.
He had no idea who or what they were really up against, but he understood that if they had fallen into a trap, z trap that was aimed at him. The bandits were probably just a diversion sent by someone who was waiting for him to reveal his powers, someone who suspected that he might be Emrys and now had confirmation. This, someone, had magic, very dark and very powerful magic, as it seemed, and he wanted him, or rather, his magic at any price.
“Arthur, this is not looking good.” he said, trying to keep his fear at bay.
“Oh, but don’t say! I thought everything was going so well!” replied Arthur with biting sarcasm. “The best birthday of my life!”.
“No Arthur, listen to me…this is very dark magic, you have to run, now! It is me they want, they will let you go, so just…go and let me take care of it.”
« Good gods, Merlin. I am absolutely certain now that you are an idiot since you thought that Camelot was actually a good place for a sorcerer to settle down, but the limits of your idiocy always manage to surprise me. »
“Arthur!” Merlin shouted with anger.
“Merlin!" the king shouted back, equally upset "I am not leaving you here alone trying to tame a storm of dark magic, and that’s final!”
“Oh, no, you ARE leaving me here. Or I will make you leave!”
Arthur shot him an icy look. “Just try to use magic on me without my consent, and you will regret it.”
“Well, I know that I won’t regret if you will be alive in the end.”
And suddenly Arthur felt that Merlin was deadly serious, and he knew that he was absolutely not ready to know how far Merlin was willing to go to keep him safe, or what he had done in the past to make sure that he was.
Their argument was interrupted by a violent trembling of the earth, while a sort of tornado started to form around the duo, and green flashes began to rip through the sky.
Emrys… don’t run away, or I will destroy the citadel, and you will lose everything and everyone you hold dear. Just give yourself to me. I want your magic; with your magic, I can be invincible, I can make everyone submit to our will… Emrys… let the storm take you and give yourself to me…
“I am never ever going to serve you with my magic” Merlin shouted to the green sky. “My magic is for Arthur and for Arthur only,” he said with pride, though he was unable to completely banish the worry from his voice.
As if to prove the strength of his words, he tried to tame the earthquake and the tornado that was disrupting the forest with a counter spell, but he was feeling too way weak to fight such powerful dark magic.
It almost seemed as if the tornado was actually absorbing his powers. The more, he directed them toward it, the more it escalated, as he felt his powers weakening.
Panic began to take over him. He felt the tornado was drawing him toward it. He would not have been able to fight this enemy alone. But he had to find a way to keep Arthur and Camelot safe. He had to.
Perhaps surrender was the better choice, given the situation. But even if he turned himself over to this mysterious enemy, so keen on the use of black magic, nothing assured him that he would keep his word not to harm Arthur. And, if such a powerful being found a way to take over his magic, and bend it to his own evil ends, the result could be disastrous for all of Albion.
“Merlin, don’t think of turning yourself over to…to whatever…whatever or whoever that thing is, don’t even think of it. We still have too much to discuss. I'm mad enough at you as it is. Don’t give me another reason!” Arthur shouted over the roaring sound of the wind that was almost engulfing him.
“Arthur, it’s my magic they want. But I am not strong enough to fight them right now.”
“Yes, exactly, so let’s think of something else to get out of this mess.”
“Arthur you don’t understand, I can’t let them destroy Camelot, but I cannot let them take my magic either. My magic is not evil Arthur…but it’s strong. It’s really strong when it is unleashed, and I don’t want it to be used for harm. I could not stand that…” Merlin’s eyes were almost pleading with him.
“All right, Merlin, it’s all right, we agree on that: I won’t let them take you” Arthur shouted with conviction, even if the earth trembling beneath his feet was making it difficult to even stay balanced, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't come up with any bright ideas to get themselves out of trouble.
“Actually, there might be a spell I learned from a book, just in case…” Merlin hesitated.
His mind was spinning. It was probably a terrible idea, a crazy one, but it was the only plan he could think of in such a difficult moment.
The keeper’s spell. All he needed was a cherished object, and a trusted keeper with a pure heart, a person to whom his magic was very strongly attached.
Well, he had both under his thumb.
“Yes, all right, a spell, what about it…” Arthur pressed him, trying to resist the gusts of wind that threatened to blow him away from Merlin.
« It’s a magic transfer spell. I can’t really separate myself from my magic, since I am magic, it’s part of me and I can’t help it. But, I can…well, according to this spell, it is possible to keep my magic hidden in an object of my choice, if this object is kept by someone with a pure heart. Someone that my magic can trust.”
“You…ok, let me understand, you want to lock all of your powers into a random object, and then give it to someone that your magic may fancy so that whoever wants to kidnap you, won’t be able to use them ?” Arthur said with disbelief. The day was just getting more and more absurd.
“Yes, well, not exactly, it’s more like…” He stared right into the king’s eyes, swallowing loudly. He had to give it a shot, he had to trust Arthur and hope that everything would turn out all right. “Actually, I was thinking of giving you my magic, to prevent them from taking it. All I have to do is to convey my powers to an object I care about, and then leave it in your care. You would become…my… magic’s keeper, in a way.” Merlin tried a smile to lighten the palpable tension between them.
“And I would ask you to treasure it for a while until I figure out how to escape from wherever this…dark force intends to take me”.
Arthur laughed bitterly, looking at his manservant as if he had just grown three heads “Yes, more like until it figures out that you have no magic on you, and it straight away kills you. No, no, we are absolutely not going further with this shitty plan. It’s possibly the worst plan I have ever heard. You are simply not giving yourself over to that thing, with or without magic. It is an order! » the king said resolutely.
“We have no choice, Arthur!” Merlin said urgently, as he rummaged through his pocket looking for something. A shining object came out a few seconds later, and Arthur’s heart stopped as he recognized his mother's seal, the one he gave to Merlin as a way to tell him without using words that would have been forbidden for a king: that Merlin was his family, his home.
“Stop Merlin. Don’t be an idiot. I will banish you on the spot if you dare go through this stupid idea. I am serious. There will be consequences.” Arthur said furiously, while a feeling of helpless dread took hold of him. He knew, in fact, that Merlin was terribly determined.
And Merlin looked mischievously at him, trying to hide his fear: “Well, then I will try my best to come back, so that you can have the satisfaction to send me away again, or send me to the stocks, as you prefer”. He approached Arthur and he raised the broach at the level of the king's heart.
“Merlin, I can’t keep your magic, I don’t want it. I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know what to do with it. How can your magic trust me if I don’t trust magic? I am not the right person for it… Please, please, stop!” Arthur was almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
“I am sorry Arthur. I just hope that my magic won’t be a burden to you. You may laugh about it, but someone says I am actually the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth. I hope that this spell will not take a toll on you.”
He smiled even if he had tears in his eyes.
“But I know that my magic will be safe with you and that it would never harm you” he added with an affectionate tone. “My magic lo- ahem, my magic trust you completely, entirely, unconditionally”.
He grabbed Arthur’s hand, and shoved the sigil into the kings’ palm, while closing his own hands around it and holding thigh.
“No, no, no. Merlin, don’t…” Arthur tried to retract from the sorcerer firm grip, but an invisible force was keeping him on the spot. He could not move, he could not prevent what Merlin intended to do.
“Morgana…Arthur, you have to find Morgana, she lives with the Druids now… she can help, she can aid us in defeating whatever this is. She will know what to do…please find Morgana, she knows that you are not your father…”. Merlin whispered with a hopeful expression, that also revealed that he was truly sorry for having kept another huge secret from him.
“Mo-Morgana?” Arthur felt he could no longer speak, no longer make sense of what was happening. It had to be a bad dream, just a bad dream, that’s it, there was no other explanation…
Morgana had disappeared after she accidentally revealed her magic during a court banquet, incurring the wrath of her father, who imprisoned her and condemned her to death.
To his greatest relief, she had managed to escape the same night, but despite his best efforts, he had never been able to find her again, talk to her, to ask her to come back after his father’s death. She seemed to have vanished into thin air.
But it seemed obvious now, that if someone had helped her disappear, that someone could only be Merlin.
Yet Arthur had no time to brood over yet another lie, yet another deception. Merlin was about to do something monumentally stupid and he could not let him do it.
“Merlin! don’t do it. I can’t allow you to do this.” Arthur shouted as the tornado was approaching fast. They did not have much time left; he knew that.
Merlin raised their joined hand to his lips and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Arthur’s knuckles that sent a warm feeling throughout the king’s body.
Then he started chanting words that should sound unintelligible, but Arthur felt as if he was understanding them even too well. They were seeping into his hand, into his mind, into his heart.
Hold my magic thigh, keep it close to your heart, keep it safe. My power is secure with you, my power is for you, my power loves you.
Arthur felt as if the spirit of the whole earth, of the water, the air, and the fire, were vibrating in the palm of his hand, as if the stars and the moon were sending their energy to him. He felt himself being enveloped by a very powerful ray of light that went to lock itself into the small sigil bearing the symbol of his mother's family.
The seal shimmered with its own light and felt light in his hand, almost soft. It almost seemed as if it was instilling into him an unnatural calm in the midst of that crazy situation. As if it was trying to tell him that everything would be okay. It didn't feel scary or dangerous to him. Powerful, yes, and strong, very strong, but he felt as if he could trust that. And he wanted to, he wanted to take care of it, to keep it safe, to protect it with his life.
But Arthur was so was so engrossed in that flood of sensations that he realized too late that Merlin was letting go of his hand.
“No, Merlin, no wait…”
“I am sorry Arthur, for everything …” He looked straight into the king’s eyes, hoping that he could make him feel all that he was feeling. He had no access to his powers anymore, yet he knew that his magic was, quite literary, in very good hands. He just hoped that he would be able to make his way back to his king and that his magic would keep him and Camelot safe.
“If I don’t come back…just known that I…” Merlin seemed about to say something, but then stopped with a shake of his head.
“Just…be safe…” he whispered instead as he shoved Arthur away with a hard thrust, and he threw himself into the approaching tornado.
In a blink of an eye, Merlin had disappeared into it.
The world suddenly exploded in a burst of light that hurled Arthur several meters away from where he was standing. The impact with the ground would have been disastrous if a ray of warm light, emanating from the seal, had not cushioned the fall.
When the king opened his eyes, though, the sky was clear again.
There was no trace of disruption left, the sounds and the lights of the forest were back. And Merlin was nowhere to be seen.
He was gone, disappeared, lost, defenseless in the hands of something, or someone who definitely wanted to hurt him.
He had sacrificed himself for him, and for Camelot.
Merlin, the same Merlin who apparently was a liar, a sorcerer, a traitor and… a clumsy manservant, a caring friend, a healer, a brave man, but and above all else, a foolish self-sacrificing idiot, who apparently tended to make the worst decisions for the noblest reasons.
Arthur fell on his knees, trying to make sense of that absurd day, his whirlwind of feeling… and of Merlin, as he clutched tightly the only thing he had left of him: his magic.
To be continued