„If I can't use magic, I might as well die."

They didn't understand. They didn't know how it was like. They thought of magic as a thing. A weapon maybe. Something that could be stored away. Something that you didn't have to use. Something you didn't need to survive.
He didn't care, if he was powerful. He didn't care, if his magic was dangerous. He didn't even care, if he scared other people.
He only knew that he had been born like this. His magic was a part of himself. His magic made him whole. Without his magic he was nothing. They said he was a monster because of his magic, but without his magic he wasn't a human being, either.
He was just a shell. An empty shell.
He hated being different. He had never fit in.
The people of Ealdor had stared at him, because he had no father. No one had ever seen his mother with a man. Some even said he was the son of the Devil. Whenever he came out of the tiny house, they started to whisper behind his back.
The other children made fun of him, because he was skinny and clumsy. They pushed him around, as if he was a toy. Nearly every evening he had spotted a new bruise or a cut. Although he tried to wash his face in the nearby stream, his mother knew he had been thrown into the dirt.
He had never fought back. They all thought he was weak. Stupid. Useless. A nobody.
And he couldn't explain to them what he was feeling. He couldn't show them his talent.
His mother had forbidden him to speak about his magic, ever since he had started talking. His mother had forbidden him to use his magic.
He felt so lonely.

And then his mother, the only person, who knew who he really was, who loved him, had sent him away.
She hadn't asked him, if he wanted to go.
She decided it for him.
Merlin had felt empty and numb.
No one wanted him. Not even his own mother.
He was a monster.
He didn't even hesitate, when she said he should pack a few things.

Somehow he was glad he could leave. When he arrived at Camelot, he had been relieved. There were so many people, and no one paid any attention to him. No one knew him. New hope was rising in him.

And then Uther had executed this man. A sorcerer. Someone like him. Someone, who had used magic in Camelot.
Everything shattered. It felt, as if someone had ripped out his heart. His magic wailed, as the man's head fell. He had tried to find a place, where he would fit in. But what if there wasn't any?

"If I can't use magic, I might as well die," he said to Gaius, tears stinging in his eyes. His back hurt. The prat must have hit him pretty hard.

"Ah, don't say that." Gaius weakly smiled at him. "You just have to be careful. We will find you a job, and then…"

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "I can't, Gaius. I can't just stop using my magic. It's a part of who I am. If you take it away from me, I…I'm nothing."

"My boy, magic is outlawed in Camelot. Your mother wanted you to be safe. Please, don't get yourself into trouble," Gaius said, turning around to get his bag.

"My mother sent me straight into a snake pit. She knew magic is forbidden here. She wanted to force me to not use it. I thought…I thought she…loved me." Merlin was sobbing now, tears falling from his long lashes like rain drops.

One of the bottles shattered into tiny pieces, as Gaius dropped it. "Show some respect, boy. Of course, your mother loves you. She only wants to help you. Using magic is dangerous."

"You think I'm a monster," Merlin gasped, and before Gaius could react, he fled from the room. Ignoring the pain in his back, he ran downstairs.

He couldn't stay here. The tears blurred his vision, and he couldn't actually see where he was going. He didn't care, either. He just needed to get away.

Suddenly, he bumped into something solid, and he fell on the ground, grunting, as the pain flared up again, making him dizzy.

"The brave idiot," the obstacle said.

Sniffing, Merlin looked up. "The prat," he replied, trying to sound more confident than he was.

Arthur sneered. "Are you crying?"

Quickly, Merlin rubbed a sleeve over his face. "It's your disgusting smell. Makes my eyes water," he said, his voice hoarse. He tried to get up, but his back felt as if it was on fire, and he leaned back, groaning.

"Did I hurt you? I told you I've been trained to kill." Arthur sounded proud, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Just leave me alone," Merlin whispered, closing his eyes.

Arthur huffed, and then he knelt down next to Merlin, punching Merlin lightly on the arm. "I liked you better, when you spoke up. Don't you want revenge? You said you could take me apart. Why don't you show me?"

Merlin's insides churned, as his magic awoke with a start. He could teach the prince a lesson. He could hurt him. He could show him how powerful he really was. Clenching his fists, he opened his eyes. "Just leave me."

"Where did you come from, anyway?" Arthur asked.

"Doesn't matter," Merlin mumbled.

"And what brings you to Camelot, Merlin?"

"None of your business, my Lord."

"And why…"

"Why can't you just shut up? Don't worry. I'm leaving Camelot. You won't be seeing me again." Merlin tried to stand up again, and this time he succeeded.

"No, don't run away again. Or are you a coward, Merlin?"

Furiously, Merlin lunged at Arthur, but before he could hit him, he dug his nails into his palms. "I am not a coward," he hissed, his breath coming in short gasps. He was furious, but he couldn't allow his magic to strike. It felt wrong.
A deep frown appeared on Arthur's forehead. "Fight me, then. I let you choose the weapons."

A sigh escaped Merlin's lips, and he hung his head. "I can't, and I won't. Your father would execute me."

Arthur chuckled, and now he looked like the arrogant, pompous ass he had been, when Merlin had first met him. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. Besides, there's no way, you can actually defeat me."

"I hate you. And now get out of my way." Merlin tried to storm past Arthur, but the prince grabbed his arm, and yanked him back. Startled, Merlin let out a yelp, as he was pushed to the ground. His magic roared like a trapped animal, but he ignored it.

"What is wrong with you, Merlin? You look like a weak, stupid boy, but I don't think you are. Get up and fight." Arthur kicked him, and his magic was begging him to do something.
Tears burned in Merlin's eyes, and he pressed his lips together.

"Fight!" Arthur was kicking him again, and Merlin crawled away from him, dragging his aching leg behind him. Arthur surely knew where to aim.

"I must not fight back. I will never be allowed to defend myself. I will always be a nobody, less worthy than the dirt under your boots." Merlin screamed. "No one likes me. No one needs me. Go ahead, kill me. I don't care." Merlin's shoulders slumped, and he felt drained.

Arthur stepped forward, and Merlin flinched, as if he expected him to hurt him again. But Arthur silently stretched out his arm to help him up.
When Merlin didn't grasp it, Arthur sighed. "I don't want to kill you, Merlin. I want to understand."

Merlin snorted, and tears trickled down his cheeks. "I am a sorcerer, Arthur."

Arthur stared at him, before he started to laugh. "Good joke, Merlin. Now tell me the truth."

"The truth?" Merlin whispered, scrambling to his feet. "This is the truth." He lifted his arm, curling his fingers slightly, and let his magic take control. Arthur was knocked backwards, and thrown into the castle wall. Confused, he looked up.

Merlin's eyes were glowing golden.

He thought, Merlin would turn and flee, but he remained standing there, while the gold faded back to blue.
Slowly, Arthur got up, and strode towards Merlin. Without saying anything, he felt for Merlin's arm, digging his fingers almost painful into the muscle.
Merlin didn't resist, as Arthur led him across the courtyard. This was it. Arthur would lock him up in the dungeons, and then Uther would sentence him to death.
But Arthur didn't enter the castle, instead he walked him along the walls, until they came to an unguarded gate. Arthur pushed Merlin through it, and Merlin stumbled along the uneven path, similar to the one that had brought him to Camelot a few days ago.

"Where are we going?" Merlin finally asked, but Arthur refused to talk to him. Perhaps he wanted to execute him somewhere in the woods, and leave his body to the wild animals.
As they reached a small clearing, Arthur let go off his arm. Almost immediately, Merlin began to massage his bruised muscle.

"That is a beautiful spot to die," Merlin said, looking around. Little flowers were covering the ground. Above the surrounding blackberry bushes, bees buzzed happily.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You are not going to die, Merlin."

"I have magic. I have magic, and I will never be able to use. Kill me already," Merlin shouted angrily.

"No." Brushing aside some brown leaves, Arthur sat down on a tree stump.

Bewildered, Merlin followed his movements. "What are you doing? You hate magic. You think it's evil. Your father executes those, who practice it."

"That's why I need to talk to you," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin started to feel uncomfortable, standing in front of the prince, who was watching him, his intense blue eyes bore into him. It was, as if he could see into his soul.
"Why, Merlin? Why did you choose to study magic? You have to admit that this was a really stupid decision," Arthur continued, his eyes never leaving Merlin's, as if he wanted to see the golden glow again.

Frustrated, Merlin stomped his foot, and almost instantly regretted it, because it hurt, and he couldn't bite back the moan. "I was born like this," he croaked, feeling for his leg.

Arthur looked, as if he wanted to laugh, but then he shook his head. "That's not possible."

Sighing, Merlin sank down to the ground, stretching out his bruised leg. "It has always been a part of me. I could move objects before I could talk. Drove my mother crazy…" He chuckled.

"Does your mother have magic, too?" Arthur asked.

"No. No…I don't know, why I'm like this. I only know that I can't change who I am. And I'm tired of hiding, and lying, and pretending to be an… idiot." Tiredly, he leaned his back against the tree.

"What about your father?"

Merlin only shrugged his shoulders. "I've never met him. My mother never speaks of him." Cautiously, he glanced at Arthur, and was surprised, when the prince smiled sadly.

"My mother died, when I was born. My father doesn't talk about her, either. He taught me that a true man never shows his emotions. It is a weakness. And you can't be weak, when you're a King."

Merlin's lips curled into a smile. "So you have to pretend to be strong, whereas I always have to be the loser."

Slowly, Arthur nodded. "Maybe things will change…one day," he said almost dreamily. Then he straightened his shoulders. "And you never thought of using your magic to… to hurt other people? You let them punch you? You could have killed me."

Merlin let out a low growl, biting his bottom lip. "I… uh used magic, when we were fighting."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You cheated! But…you didn't really scare me. I've been hit harder by Morgana."

To his own surprise, Merlin didn't laugh at his joke. The boy looked defeated. "My mother has forbidden me to use it. She… she just looked away, when I came home, sporting a black eye or a split lip. And when she couldn't stand it anymore, she sent me away. She sent me straight to hell." He laughed bitterly. "I've never done anything wrong. I don't want to use my magic as a weapon. I just want to be accepted." A tear slid down his cheek, and Arthur cringed.

"You…" he began, clearing his throat, "you don't seem evil."

Wiping away the tear, Merlin took a deep breath. "I take this as a compliment."

"I knew there was something special about you," Arthur said proudly.

Silence fell between them. Merlin was fiddling with his neckerchief. His leg still throbbed, and after he had spent the night in the dungeon and the day locked up in the stocks, he was exhausted.
Stifling back a yawn, he finally asked: "What now?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Will you go back to your mother?"

"No. No, I can't," Merlin immediately protested.

Before Arthur could reply, a woman stepped out from behind a tree. She was wearing a silk purple dress, her long her was flowing over her shoulders. Surprised, Arthur leapt to his feet. "Lady Helen, you shouldn't be out here all alone."

"Oh, don't worry about me, because I'm not Lady Helen." The woman smirked, as she came closer.

Arthur tilted his head to one side. "But you arrived last night to sing at the…" he glanced at Merlin, who was eying the woman carefully, "celebrations."

"Well, Prince Arthur, it's true that I had intended to attend your festival, but I think, I've changed my mind."

There was something about the woman that made Merlin's stomach churn. A cold shiver ran down his spine, as she slowly lifted her hands.

"Why?" Arthur blurted out. A deep frown was etched into his forehead.

"Because I am about to end your life. A son for a son," she said, still smiling.

"You're Thomas' mother," Merlin piped up, hastily scrambling to his feet.

"Thomas?" Arthur turned around to look at Merlin questioningly.

"You're as ignorant as your father. You've already forgotten the name of the boy, who was executed two days ago. You will pay for this injustice. I will make you suffer." The woman clenched her fists, and mumbled strange words not even Merlin could understand. Arthur gaped at her, but suddenly a searing hot pain shot through his whole body, and he felt for his throat, desperately gasping for air.

"Wha…" he croaked out, dropping to his knees.

"You are so arrogant. It's not the magic itself you should fear, but the people who wield it. We could have healed the wounded. We could have helped the poor. We could have helped Camelot to become wealthier. With your hatred you destroyed everything. You killed innocent, peaceful people, and you unleashed the true power of those, who had given their lives to protect Camelot." The woman waved her arm, and Arthur fell onto his side, panting and wheezing.
"Are you afraid of magic, Arthur Pendragon?" she asked, her eyes cold and dark.

"Stop it," Merlin spoke up, causing the woman to flinch.

"And who are you?" she spat.

"I won't let you do this," Merlin said without answering her question.

The woman only laughed. It sounded more like a high pitched scream, hurting Merlin's ears.
She flicked her fingers, and Merlin's legs were kicked out under him. He fell face first on the rough ground. Something warm trickled down his cheek, and he realized he had cut it open on a sharp rock. As he swallowed, he tasted dirt and blood.
The woman had already turned her back to him, her focus on Arthur, who was white as a sheet, his lips almost colourless. His eyes were wide open, fear and pain clearly visible in the blue orbs.
Merlin's heart was racing, and his mind spinning. He had never met someone, who had magic, before, but he couldn't let her kill Arthur.
Ignoring the pain in his back and leg, he sat up.

Arthur had stopped struggling. His mouth was slightly open, as if he still tried to suck in air, but he didn't move.

"A son for a son," the woman chanted.

Merlin's magic broke loose. It gripped her, and slammed her into the next tree, breaking her neck like a twig. Without hesitating, Merlin rushed to Arthur's side, clumsily feeling for a pulse. When Arthur's heart beat against his fingers, he lightly slapped his cheeks. "Rise and shine," he mumbled.

Arthur groaned, his eyes fluttering open. "Shu…t…up," he rasped, before he started to cough violently.

Merlin sat back, drawing his knees to his body as realization hit him. He had just killed a human being.

"You…" Arthur panted, taking a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said. He suddenly felt sick.

"You just saved my life," Arthur tried again, and his voice didn't quiver.

"But…I…I…she's dead, Arthur." Merlin's voice broke, and he wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging himself.

"She used ma…She wanted to kill me, Merlin," Arthur softly said, slumping down next to him.

Merlin only buried his head between his legs, and started to cry. Silently, Arthur watched him, waiting, until his shivers subsided and the horrible sobbing stopped.
"I think she was right, though," he stated.

Merlin's head shot up, and his tear-filled eyes widened in confusion. "What?"

"Magic itself isn't evil. The people are."

"I'm a monster," Merlin whispered.

"Did you listen to me? You saved my life." Encouragingly, Arthur nudged him. "Come."

Merlin blinked, and a fell from his lashes. "Whereto?"

"Back to Camelot, of course. I want you to stay here." Arthur stood up, dusting off his clothes.

"Here?" Merlin repeated. It sounded like a faint echo.

"I can find you some work," Arthur suggested, waiting for Merlin to get up.

"But…magic is banned from Camelot. I'm not wanted here," Merlin said, still gripping his legs so tightly, his knuckles had turned white. "And I can't…I can't live without my magic."

"You do know who I am?" Arthur asked.

"Not the prat I thought you were," Merlin murmured.

"I'm the Prince of Camelot. One day, I will be King. I could change the laws."

"But until then…"

"Until then, we figure something out."

"You won't give me away?"

"For God's sake, Merlin. You saved my life. Your magic saved my life," Arthur said, slowly becoming impatient.

Merlin smiled. "I'm glad it did."

Rubbing his hands together, Arthur returned the smile. "Are you coming?"

Merlin hesitantly stood up. "Wait. Aren't you mad at me? You've seen me practicing magic. You're going to accept it just like this?"

"Are you sure you only pretended being an idiot? Without you, I wouldn't stand here. " Arthur groaned frustrated, before he started to head back to the castle.

Merlin stared at his broad back. Maybe he hadn't found a place, where he fit in, but a true friend. Someone, he could trust. Someone, who could understand him. Someone, with whom he could be himself. Even if he was a prince. Even if he acted like a prat sometimes.

"One more thing, Merlin," Arthur said, causing Merlin to jump. He hadn't even realized he had nearly walked straight into Arthur, who had stopped.

"Thank you."