Arthur stepped surely and purposefully as he strode into Gaius' workshop, looking just as cool and confident as he ever was—and perhaps even more.

For that reason, it annoyed him to note Merlin's obviously worried expression as he hovered in the doorway behind him. He wasn't sure how his servant had seen through his calm mask and figured out that his thoughts and emotions were actually a tumbling storm of ups and downs, but then, Merlin always had been able to read him uncannily well.

He shot his friend a quick glare, but quickly turned his mind back to his self-appointed task. "Gaius, I need to speak with you," he declared.

The old man nodded at each of them mildly to acknowledge their presence as he dusted ground herbs off his hands and came around his workbench to face them. "Yes, sire? What may I help you with?"

"It's about," and he had to pause to swallow hard, barely able to say what was on his mind. "I need to ask you something about... how magic works."

Arthur could tell that the question surprised the older man. Gaius looked to Merlin with raised eyebrows, and though the other boy was behind him, Arthur saw him give a baffled shrug out of the corner of his eye, as if to say he had no idea what had spurred this question.

And well he shouldn't. If anyone knew what it was that Arthur suspected...

Gaius pursed his lips a little and then waved him forward toward a nearby chair. "How magic works, you say?" he asked carefully.

Arthur nodded, coming to sit down heavily in the chair, keeping a level expression aimed up at Gaius. "Yes. Tell me: magic is something that someone chooses to do; they have to study it, learn to cast it, or whatever. Right?"

Gaius visibly hesitated, glancing again at Merlin. "Most of the time," he allowed.

Arthur's frown grew deeper, and he propped his chin on one fist. "Only most of the time," he repeated. "So there are some who do magic without studying it."

"Well, the Druids, for one, are a very magical people," Gaius explained, sitting slowly at the table in the middle of the room. "Most of them study magic from a young age, but even those not old enough to study sometimes show latent abilities if they are powerful enough."

The prince latched on to that phrase. "Latent abilities, how?"

Tilting his head slightly in question, Gaius gave a small shrug. "Well, anything from moving small objects to, well... anything that regular magic can do, albeit in a much, much weaker form." He hesitated again before inquiring, "Why are you asking me this? Has something happened?"

Arthur ignored his questions, continuing with his own. "If someone were to display these latent abilities... how much control would they have over them?"

Gaius' expression turned somewhat dark. "You believe that someone near you is displaying latent magical abilities?" he asked, clearly baffled by that.

Merlin scuffed his feet uneasily beside him; Arthur could tell how much the idea unnerved him. "Arthur, what are you talking about?" the other boy asked in confusion.

"How much control would they have, Gaius?" Arthur asked again, his urgency revealing itself in his voice as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Not much," Gaius admitted. "Unless they were particularly exceptional, or if they started studying. They wouldn't be able to do magic whenever they wanted to, certainly."

"But would they do magic instinctively?" Arthur wanted to know. "Would it, perhaps, lash out unexpectedly?"

Gaius shook his head. "Not usually, though if they are threatened, there is always that chance. Sire, who is it that you are speaking of?"

Arthur got to his feet, suddenly subdued. His decision was made. "If it can't be controlled," he said softly. "Then it's dangerous. I have to go."

Quickly, he swept out of the room, leaving Merlin to scramble after him with a yelp and Gaius to ponder his words somberly.

"Wait up!" Merlin gasped, having to jog to keep up with his friend's fast strides despite the fact that they both carried large armfuls of supplies. "Where, exactly, are we going now? We just got back to Camelot this morning!"

"You," Arthur said calmly, "are not going anywhere. I'm going alone." He reached his horse—which had been saddled for him in advance—and without looking at his servant, began loading things into the saddlebags.

Merlin, for his part, nearly dropped his share of the supplies in shock. "You-you-you, you what? Hang on a second..."

"You heard me," his words quickly gained a snappish quality. "You're not coming with me, Merlin. This is too dangerous for you."

Merlin had the audacity to glare at him. "Too dangerous?" he demanded. "You say that as though all the bandits we've run across on the roads haven't been dangerous, not to speak of the ones who have had magic! I've always managed to survive before, right? And where are you going? If you're trying to head out by yourself, then this stuff is going to last you weeks!"

Arthur shrugged off his protests. "I don't know where I'm going," he admitted with an irritated growl. "But I'll travel till I solve this problem!"

"Well, you're not leaving me behind!" Merlin insisted, sounding suddenly whiney. "Who do you think you are, gallivanting off on your own like this? You won't even tell me what this supposed problem even is! You-"

Arthur had had quite enough of that. Without a word, he grabbed the front of Merlin's shirt—causing the smaller boy to yelp and sending the rest of the supplies he'd been carrying tumbling to the ground—and dragged him into the near-deserted stables.

Entering an empty stall far from where the servants were tending horses on the other end, he hastily secured it closed behind him before pinning Merlin against a wall, leaning in close. "I can't let this get back to my father," he hissed. "I know that he would overreact."

Merlin's eyes widened, and then narrowed in understanding. "Arthur, who did you see doing magic? I didn't notice anything during our latest trip, but you've been all weird ever since we got back earlier."

Loosening his grip a little on his friend's shirt, Arthur let out a tight sigh. "It hasn't just been this one time. I've suspected it for a while now," he admitted. "For months. But the last few days have convinced me of it."

"What do you mean?" Merlin looked a little nervous, but otherwise clueless.

"You can't tell me you haven't noticed," he shot at him, rolling his eyes a little. "Branches that will—purely by coincidence—break off directly above the heads of the bandits I'm fighting. Skilled knifemen who just happen to trip over nothing and land on their own knives when they come after me. And do you remember the beast that was down in the sewers? While I fought that thing, I could have sworn that the flames from the torch I was holding jumped through the air to burn the foul creature."

With each example that Arthur listed, Merlin seemed to shrink a little, averting his gaze slightly. Yes, he definitely had noticed all of those things.

"And then, two nights ago, when that giant wolf attacked us out of the blue... You know what happened; you were with me when we split off into teams to look for it." Arthur shook his head, his mouth suddenly dry. His voice lowered even further. "It knocked me to the ground hard enough to stun me, and I almost passed out, but I still saw what happened next. The thing leapt straight at me, and I just knew it was going to tear my throat out. But the next second, it stopped—in midair. As though I had a shield around me. Then it deflected off and went bounding into the woods, after one of the other knights."

Merlin bit his lip. "Are... you sure?" he asked, somewhat breathless now.

Arthur nodded firmly. "I've been running the event over in my mind since then. The conclusion is obvious, Merlin."

Slowly, Merlin's eyes closed. "And you're... not going to tell the King about this?"

Rolling his eyes again, Arthur snorted. "You're joking, right? I'm not so suicidal as to tell the most magic-phobic man in the kingdom that his own son can do magic."

"His own..." Merlin looked up at Arthur sharply in surprise. "Wait, you think that you're the one doing magic?"

"Well, unconsciously, at least," Arthur admitted, turning to study the wood of the stall. "You heard what Gaius said. If I'm threatened, it lashes out instinctively. It's not my fault. But my father won't see it that way. So I'll have to-"

He was interrupted as Merlin suddenly, for no reason at all, burst out laughing, slumping back against the wall as he let out huge guffaws. "You..! You... ! Ha ha!"

"What's funny about that?" Arthur demanded.

"You! There's no...!" but Merlin was laughing too hard to say anything coherent. He shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks as he laughed uncontrollably.

Arthur grabbed the front of his shirt again, yanking him upright before slamming him harshly against the wall. "Shut up, Merlin. You know I wouldn't tell just anyone about this. I'm telling you because I trust you. And you repay that trust by laughing in my face!"

Merlin immediately sobered, a stray hand coming up to rub the back of his head as he felt at the new bump Arthur had just put there. "Arthur..."

With a growl, the prince released him and stalked out of the stables, back toward his waiting horse.

"Arthur, wait!" Merlin hurriedly followed after him, scampering to keep up. "Arthur, I'm sorry I laughed at you. But you've got to believe me when I tell you, there is absolutely no way that-"

Arthur cut through his servant's babbling with an assertive command. "I am going to travel around to see if anyone can teach me control. Once that is mastered, I'll come back, and never use it—intentionally or unintentionally—again."

"Well, couldn't Gaius-?"

"Gaius would take it straight to my father; the two of them are old friends," Arthur said matter-of-factly, swinging up onto his horse. One of the other servants had apparently seen Arthur and Merlin drop the supplies before and had finished packing for them, so with a few quick checks, he was ready to go.

Merlin had a huge frown on his face. "You don't know that."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I will be back, I promise you." With that, he spurred his horse into action, taking off down the road toward the castle gates.

For several moments, Merlin merely stood staring helplessly after him. Then his mouth set in a firm line, and he dashed back into the stables, intent on getting his own horse. This was his fault, he knew, and he would be the one to fix it.

Arthur purposefully waited until it got dark and difficult to see before he stopped for the night. He waited until he had completely set up camp, getting a warm fire going and taking care of the horses, before he started roasting a few slabs of meat for dinner. He waited until the food was almost completely done, the smell wafting over the area, before he finally decided to acknowledge the loud grumbles of his servant's stomach that he could hear all the way from the other side of the clearing where he'd stopped.

"Alright, Merlin. Come on out. I know you're over there."

A long minute passed as Arthur stared into the darkness, and then Merlin stumbled into the firelight, looking appropriately sheepish. "How long have you known I was following you?"

Arthur snorted, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Merlin. You're the most predictable person in the whole kingdom. The moment I saw that look on your face as I left, I knew you'd come after me. In fact, if you hadn't, I would have been quite disappointed in you."

Merlin gave him one of his goofy grins, still embarrassed. "Well, I couldn't just let you go by yourself," he admitted. "After all, we both know you're incapable of getting yourself dressed and polishing your own armor."

"Sounds to me like somebody doesn't want any dinner," Arthur said loftily, prodding at the meat he had cooking over the fire.

His servant gave the food a skeptic look. "Since when can you cook, anyway?" he asked suspiciously. "Usually I'm the one who ends up making food while we're on trips. And I distinctly remember you panicking the time you told Gwen you'd make food for her."

Refusing to admit that the very incident Merlin referred to had caused him to spend a great deal of time observing in the kitchens in an attempt to pick up a few tips and tricks, Arthur waved Merlin off. "I did not panic," he asserted.

Merlin smirked at him. "You threw a raw chicken at me," he reminded him. "Literally, threw it at my head. I call that panicking."

"You say that as though I don't throw things at your head on a regular basis anyway," Arthur retorted. "Now do you want food or not? Because unless you actually took the time to pack your own supplies before you went running blindly after me without thinking..."

As if to sound its agreement, Merlin's stomach chose that moment to growl again. The boy stared down at it as though it had betrayed him. "I, I brought some food," Merlin protested eventually, his hands going to his pockets and his gaze going up to the trees.

"Like what, an apple you snuck from the kitchens earlier? Or, let me guess: you stopped to pick some blackberries, and you caught up to me when I was getting water from the creek." Arthur grinned, loading a small travel dish with some of the food he'd made and holding it out for his friend to take. "Come on, I didn't poison it."

Merlin frowned, glumly stepping over and plopping himself down by the fire as he took the dish. "I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself. You can either be picky, or you can starve. Your choice." Arthur put the rest of the meat into his own dish and started to eat, trying not to grimace at the taste—maybe he'd put a little too much salt on it—and doing his best to keep his expression totally flat.

Reluctantly, Merlin ate as well. The twisted look on his face totally made up for Arthur's own distaste; his servant looked about the same way Arthur imagined that he himself had during the rat meat incident.

"Tomorrow," Merlin choked out with a cough, "I'm cooking."

Arthur smiled in content, popping another slightly sour bite into his mouth. "If you hadn't volunteered, I'd have ordered you to." He shrugged. "Though, it's not so bad once you get used to it."

Merlin apparently chose not to answer that comment, instead scowling down at his plate, trying to decide if he was brave enough to try another piece. Arthur ignored him and focused on his own food.

When the younger boy did finally speak again, his voice had softened, and his attention was no longer on what he ate. "Who do you think we can find who can teach us about... well... who can help us?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know," he admitted, chewing thoughtfully. "My first thought was, of course, to locate the druids. But that's a stupid idea. I've personally killed too many of them. I doubt they'd be willing to teach me anything but how to die on the end of a spear."

Merlin winced visibly. "Yes, I don't think they would be happy to see either of us at this point."

Arthur nodded. "Exactly. But if we ask around in some of the smaller villages, we might find someone who knows something. Perhaps someone like Gaius, who put away their magic when my father declared it banned."

"Do... do you really think that you have magic?" Merlin wondered aloud, giving him a hesitant, gauging look. Arthur could tell that he wasn't comfortable broaching this subject.

Arthur sighed. "I told you, Merlin. I can see no other explanation for it. Besides, I was born of magic. Perhaps it makes sense that I can use it, too."

Merlin frowned at him in mild surprise. "But I thought that..."

"That everything Morgause showed me was a lie?" Arthur shook his head. "Perhaps. But too much of it rings true. And my father never did swear that he hadn't asked for the help of a sorceress in trying to get an heir."

Merlin started to babble something, looking as though he half expected Arthur to suddenly jump on his horse and charge back to Camelot to challenge his father again, but Arthur interrupted him with annoyance, continuing. "I've had a long time to think about this calmly. He did swear to me that he loved my mother and had never wanted to hurt her. I have decided that I cannot condemn him for trying if no one told him what the consequences would be. Especially since Morgause was clearly trying to set me against him."

A soft smile grew slowly on Merlin's face. "Yeah. I... I'm glad you can see it that way."

He nodded vaguely, lost somewhat in thought. "Do you think that Morgause suspected that I might have my own magic? That I might be able to oppose her someday?"

Immediately, Merlin shook his head. "Nah, no way," he laughed. "You just... don't seem the type."

"You say that as though you know what the type looks like," Arthur pointed out sensibly. "What makes you think you know anything about magic, Merlin?"

His servant hastily shoved a piece of meat into his mouth. "Nothing, I don't know anything," he mumbled.

Arthur smirked at him. "Have I mentioned," he said, relaxing back against a log, "that I'm glad you came after me?"

Merlin hesitated a moment before grinning back. "Any time."

(A/N) Hello, everyone. This has actually been sitting untouched on my computer for a really long time. I'm not sure if I'll continue it, but it's an interesting idea, so maybe when I have time, I'll work on it some more.

Sorry about the delays with my other writing. Real life is hectic and crazy and amazing and stuff. I recently got engaged to the most awesome guy I've ever met, and life recently has been filled with wedding plans and spending as much time as possible with my fiancé. I'll try to write as much as I can, though.

Thanks for putting up with me!

-Daricio