Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor do I make any money from this story. It's purely for fun.

A/N: For some reason, it keeps losing the formatting when I upload it, so some line breaks may have disappeared, sorry!

The Secret of the Queen Ygraine.

He ran.

Heart pounding, lungs screaming, legs burning.

He ran and ran and ran.

But he could never run far or fast enough. The hounds were always on his heels. Once or twice, he even thought he felt their sharp metal teeth catch in his trouser legs.

And behind them, the ever present splutter of the engine.

A week ago, news had come to the village from a young witch fleeing the forest. Aredian was in the valley.

Knowing that the infamous Witchfinder was in the area put Merlin and his mother on high alert. They couldn't afford a slip-up, Hunith warned him. When Aredian caught a sorcerer, he took them to Camelot and they were never seen again. And Aredian was the best at catching sorcerers.

After a few days, they'd relaxed slightly. With the magic users gone, surely Aredian had moved on.

So when the old creaky tree at the end of the road suddenly dropped towards Old Mr. Simmons' roof, Merlin had felt safe to nudge it sideways, saving the house. Immediately, chilling howls sounded from the forest. Aredian's mechanical hounds had caught the scent of magic.

He fled.

He'd been running for three days, only stopping for a few minutes here and there. It wasn't safe to rest for longer.

He was exhausted. It was becoming harder and harder to pick his feet up and force his body to keep moving. His clothes were torn, and his face and hands were scratched from branches whipping against him.

His foot caught on a root and he tumbled down a slope, landing at the bottom in a crumpled heap.

It was over. By the time he'd scrambled to his feet, the hounds had him surrounded. His breath came in shrieking gasps as he surveyed the growling beasts.

Their backs glinted dully in the dappled sunlight that streamed through the leaves. As Merlin gazed into the glass lenses that made up their eyes, he could just about see the flickering light of the aether that powered them.

For a moment he contemplated blasting them back with magic, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He'd tried it on the first day of the chase in an attempt to throw them off his trail, but it barely affected them. If he didn't know better, he'd think that they were powered by magic themselves.

Behind him, a twig snapped under a heavy boot and he turned, dread welling up in his chest. Aredian gazed at him through flat, cold grey eyes.

"Time to give up boy," he murmured. "I've caught you."

He stepped forward, a hound rearing up to put its jaws to Merlin's throat, ready to tear it open if he tried to attack its master. Reaching into the deep pocket of his trench coat, Aredian revealed a pair of dull metal shackles.

Knowing he had no choice, Merlin held out his wrists and allowed the Witchfinder to close the cuffs around his pale flesh.

As soon as the locks clicked into place, the runes etched into the metal glowed a brilliant gold, almost blinding the two males.

"Powerful," Aredian blinked furiously. "Camelot will pay handsomely for you."

He tugged on the chain linking Merlin's wrists, leading him back up the slope to the waiting motor car. Tossing him into the cage hitched to the back, Aredian locked the door and returned to his seat.

Releasing the brake, he turned the wheel and set off to the North, to Camelot, the pack of hounds following behind.

The Queen Ygraine was the newest, and most advanced airship in Camelot's fleet. And she was all Arthur's. Commissioned by Uther when the prince was sixteen, she took two years to build and took her maiden voyage just after Arthur's eighteenth.

Three years later, she flew as fast and smooth as ever. Arthur couldn't be happier with her. She'd spent the last two weeks in Camelot's docks as the prince celebrated his coming of age, but now she was off on patrol.

Arthur relaxed in the captain's chair, enjoying the view through the panoramic windscreen. The anchors had been released, and the airship was rising steadily.

The city walls fell away below them, and Arthur reached for the steering levers to either side of his seat.

"Heading?" he called.

"Twenty degrees to starboard, Princess," Gwaine responded from his spot by the navigation post.

Rolling his eyes and barely containing his exasperated sigh, Arthur adjusted the the thrusters and reached for the lever that would turn them on.

"Firing thrusters in three, two, one."

He threw the switch, feeling the slight lurch that signified the thrusters coming online. The ship swung around and when Gwaine called out to say they were on course, he realigned the thrusters, smiling as they raced away from the city.

He loved Camelot, but sometimes the pressure of all the expectations heaped upon him by his father and other members of the court was just too much. Patrolling the skies in the Queen was an escape. Here, amongst his knights, he could be more himself. Yes, he was still their commander, but on the ship they were all just fighters, men of action. They understood him.

Here, he was free.

After two days of travel, they finally arrived at Camelot. The white stone walls of the palace towered above them as Merlin was dragged into the dungeons.

Thrown unceremoniously into a cold, dingy cell, he passed the night curled up on the small, hard mattress shoved in the corner.

The next morning, after he ate an unsatisfying breakfast of stale bread and a cup of water, Aredian returned. With him was a dark-clothed nobleman, and a man wearing tinted goggles and a white coat.

The nobleman produced a ring of keys and unlocked the cell, Aredian and the scientist stepping in. The scientist pulled a pair of cuffs similar to the shackles out of his coat, and snapped them on Merlin's wrists. They were a tighter fit, rubbing against his skin. Aredian retrieved his shackles and then stepped back out of the cell, smirking from behind the noble.

The scientist adjusted his goggles to settle more firmly over his eyes, and then produced a white crystal and a small dagger. Merlin shrank back as the man advanced. Soon though, he found himself backed into the corner.

The man lashed out, and Merlin grunted as the sharp blade sliced through both his sleeve and skin. The crystal was quickly pressed against him, and as soon as his blood dripped on to it, it glowed an almost blinding gold.

"You were right, Mr. Aredian," the scientist turned to the men lingering in the doorway. "He is possibly the most powerful sorcerer I have ever tested."

"Put him in the program," the noble ordered. "Now, let's discuss payment, Aredian."

The scientist stepped out and the noble locked the door again. Turning, he and Aredian strode away, voices fading as they took the stairs. With a final assessing glance towards him, the scientist followed after.

He returned once night had fallen, two burly men with him, their uniform different to that worn by the guards he'd seen patrolling the dungeons. The door clanked open, and the two men grabbed his arms as the scientist watched on.

"Come along," he muttered gruffly, turning to lead the way.

They pulled Merlin out of the cell and back above ground. He was dragged across the courtyard once again, passing through an archway and crossing the old fashioned drawbridge. They turned off the main path, heading for a large building in the shadow of the airship dock. Inside, the scientist led the way down a flight of steps.

The steps let out deep underground, into a dimly lit corridor lined with sturdy metal doors. Merlin found himself stumbling into one of the small rooms courtesy of a hand to the middle of his back, the door clanging shut behind him.

Fumbling around in the pitch black, he located a corner and sank to the floor. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he finally let the tears come.

It was mid way through the third day of their patrol, and so far the only concerning thing was the storm brewing on the South Eastern horizon.

Arthur lazed in the captain's chair, occasionally correcting their heading, but mostly just enjoying the view. He'd seen it before of course, this wasn't the first time he'd flown this route, but there was always something new to the landscape.

He was just admiring a lake as they passed over, when his eye was caught by movement over the mountains to the starboard. Turning to look, he saw an airship slightly smaller than the Queen Ygraine. The name painted on the hull was faded and peeling, and most telling of all, it was driven by propellers, not aether powered thrusters.

Flicking a switch on the console in front of him, he leaned forwards to speak into the microphone.

"Pirates ahead. Everyone to battle stations," he ordered.

There was a pounding of feet on metal walkways from the depths of the ship, the knights all heading to the cargo bay and climbing into the weapons pods mounted to the walls. Leon, meanwhile, lifted the trapdoor behind Arthur's chair and slipped into the pod below the bridge, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Engage on my command," Arthur buckled the harness on his chair.

He held their position, knowing the knights were turning the guns to shoot at the enemy. There would be no warning for the pirates. They were a threat to the people of Camelot, and there were standing orders from the King to destroy them on sight.

The other ship inched closer, their guns swinging round to aim at the Queen. Arthur waited, tense and holding steady. They were almost in range.

"Fire!" he yelled, as the pirate ship came ever closer.

There was an explosion of noise as the bullets began to fly. The enemy ship surged forward as the propellers picked up speed and they returned fire.

There was a series of dull thuds as the bullets impacted the heavily armoured hull, but they were hardly noticeable under the rat-tat-tat of the Queen's guns.

The pirate ship came closer and closer, but Arthur held his ground. It was only when a stray bullet pinged off the frame of the windscreen that he came about, setting out to circle the other ship.

The pirates tried to match their movements, but despite their smaller size, the old fashioned propellers were sluggish compared to the aether powered thrusters. Within seconds, the Queen's guns had a clear shot at the pirates' propellers.

There was a concentrated burst of fire from below deck. Leon, one of the best shots in Camelot's fleet. There was a bang, and the enemy's nearest propeller fell away from the hull.

The other ship floundered, spinning slowly in place. Arthur leaned into the microphone again.

"Let's finish this gentlemen."

The knights sent a barrage of bullets at the other ship. Several perforated the hull, more smashing the glass on one of the weapons pods. Arthur winced, watching as the man inside plummeted to the ground far below.

Suddenly, with a blinding flash and a deafening bang, the hydrogen filled balloon keeping the pirate ship in the air exploded.

The Queen Ygraine shuddered violently in the shock wave produced, and Arthur reached for the thruster controls, intent on moving the ship further away from the giant fireball. The ship jerked, however, and no matter what he did, he couldn't turn.

"Dammit!" he cursed, and reached again for the microphone. "Elyan, we've lost the thrusters. Get down to engineering and see what you can do. Everyone else, stand down. Good job."

He sat quietly for a moment, watching the burning wreckage of the other ship splash down on the edge of the lake, and listening to the knights climb out of the weapons pods in the cargo bay.

"Sire," Leon's hand settled on Arthur's shoulder. "We need to find somewhere to land. That storm is blowing in fast. We cannot stay airborne for much longer."

"I know, but what can we do?" he asked, throwing the thruster lever into the off position. "We have no steering."

"Maybe we don't need it,"Gwaine was back in his seat at navigation. "We are only a few miles South East of Daobeth. The wind will blow us straight to it long before the storm hits us."

Arthur thought for a moment. The old fort was mostly ruins now, but it did have a sturdy dock. He'd set down there before, it would do in an emergency.

"Fine," he decided. "Daobeth it is."

The next hour passed by peacefully. Arthur had his men pack supplies for the next few days. They couldn't stay on the ship during the storm, even if she was docked. If lightening struck the balloon it would explode and take them all with it.

Just as the ruined fort appeared on the horizon, the speaker crackled and Elyan's voice burst from the intercom.

"Sire?"

"Go ahead Elyan," Arthur responded.

"Sire, I've examined the thrusters carefully, and they don't appear to be damaged at all," the engineer reported. "That, and the reports I'm getting about other systems malfunctioning, leads me to believe that the problem lies within the aether control panel."

Arthur cursed, hearing his bridge crew mutter in dread behind him.

Aether was a relatively new power source, having only been discovered in the prince's lifetime. Camelot's scientists, overjoyed by the breakthrough, jealously guarded the secrets of how it worked. Though Uther had ordered the fleet to be fitted with aether, the ship builders and engineers were kept in the dark about the power source. The systems were fitted and maintained in absolute secrecy by Camelot's science division, the control panel sealed away inside a locked capsule at the back of the ship.

Arthur sucked his tongue for a moment as he thought about what to do. On the one hand, it was against regulations to break into the control panel. But on the other, there was no way to get back to Camelot without the aether system online. Unless they walked, which would take days.

"Very well," he decided. "You will have to break open the door to the control room and see if you can fix it."

"I'm not sure, sire..." came the hesitant response.

"Elyan you are the best engineer in the fleet," Arthur said firmly. "I am positive that you can figure it out."

"Yes, My Lord."

The intercom went dead, and the Prince sighed as he glared out of the window. Today was just getting better and better.

–

Half an hour later, they floated over the walls of the fort.

"We have to move quickly," Arthur informed the crew. "We have no way of maintaining our position over the dock."

"Yes sire."

Gwaine and Percival left the bridge and headed for the cargo bay. Arthur waited until the dock was almost directly below them, and then flicked the microphone on.

"We have to act now or we lose our chance," he called. "Gwaine, Percival, are you ready?"

"And raring sire!" came Gwaine's cheerful reply.

"Very well. Drop the anchors."

Beside him, Leon pulled two large levers. There was a distant clanking of chain as the giant lobster claw anchors dropped from the underside of the ship. And between them, Gwaine was swinging from a sturdy rope being fed through a pulley by Percival.

A few seconds later, the clanking stopped and the intercom crackled again.

"Gwaine is on the ground."

A strong gust of wind hit the ship and she rocked to the side. There were a few tense moments on the bridge as they waited to discover whether they had missed their window.

"Fore anchor has been secured," Percival reported, and Arthur breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The Queen lurched again, the wind strengthening as the storm came ever closer. The aft began to swing around, but jerked to a sudden halt.

"Aft anchor secured. Repeat, both anchors secured."

"Understood," Arthur flipped the microphone off and turned to Leon. "Set her down."

His first mate threw the anchor levers again, and the sound of the chains drifted back into the bridge. Slowly, the ship began to lower as the chains wound in, finally coming to a halt a few feet above the ground.

"Gather two teams of men and scour the fort for bandits and the like," Arthur ordered. "Have Gwaine lead the second team. And see if you can find a cellar or something big and hospitable enough for the crew. I'll feel safer underground during this storm."

"Yes Sire," Leon bowed and strode away. The prince could hear him barking orders as he passed through the living areas.

Glancing up at the rapidly darkening sky, he estimated that they had maybe half an hour before the storm hit. Sighing heavily, he pushed himself out of his chair and went to his cabin. Grabbing a pack, he gathered supplies for himself, before going to check that his men were ready to move.

He was sitting on the steps leading outside when the scouting parties returned. Overhead, the dark grey clouds were swirling ominously.

"No sign of life elsewhere in the compound sire," Leon reported. "And Gwaine found a suitable cellar."

"Good job," Arthur stood up. "Grab your supplies and start showing the men where to go."

He slung his own pack over his shoulder and stood by the door, watching as his crew filed out. He wanted to be sure that everyone was off the ship before he shut the door. The galley staff were trickling past when the speaker next to him crackled to life.

"Sire? Are you there?"

"Elyan, are you ready to go? The storm is almost here. You can continue to work on the panel when it's over," he replied.

"I've managed to open the capsule," there was an odd tone to Elyan's voice. "Arthur, I think that you should come and see this."

If the engineer was using his given name, then it must be serious.

"I'll be right there."

He asked Percival to check the ship for stragglers, and set off for engineering. Climbing the stairs two at a time, he ducked into the small passage, before stepping out into the open area containing the capsule. Sure enough, the thick metal door was wide open, and as he stepped through he felt as though he had been punched in the gut.

"What in God's name?"

Merlin didn't know how long he'd been sitting in the dark. All he knew was that it was freezing, and his tears had long ago dried up.

There was a clanging noise and a sudden, tiny light. A candle in a glass jar, sitting upon a tray of food had been pushed through a slot on the door. The flap banged shut, and Merlin slowly crept out of his corner.

He wasn't sure he could trust the porridge, but it was hot and he was cold and hungry. He wolfed it down, trying to ignore the dull glint of the candle light bouncing off the magic suppressing cuffs. It was a torment just to feel his magic buzzing under his skin, building up until he thought he might explode, let alone to see the objects causing his suffering. For a moment, he wished the darkness would return.

He scraped the bowl and then drained the cup of water in large gulps before returning to his previous spot.

Only a few moments later did he begin to feel dizzy. His head spinning, he blinked his eyes slowly. He felt so tired all of a sudden...

When he opened his eyes, he found himself somewhere else entirely. The room was dimly lit by a strange glass globe suspended from the ceiling, and it was slightly warmer than his previous cells.

He was lying on a hard bed, and for some reason he couldn't understand, his chest was hurting. He raised his head to look and realised that his shirt was gone, clean white bandages wrapped around him in its place.

He lifted his hands, intending to peek under the cloth, but found them tied to the bed frame.

Just as he began to hyperventilate in his panic, the door opened and a young nurse entered.

"Oh, you're awake already," she frowned. "No matter. I just need to check for infection."

She began to unwind the bandages, Merlin straining to see. When the final layer fell away, he saw what had been done to him.

He screamed.

Arthur had imagined that the aether control capsule would be filled with switches and cables attached to an engine or fuel tank of some sort. The truth, however, was horrifying.

Bolted to the floor in the centre of the room was a metal bed frame, and strapped to the thin mattress was a young man. His shirtless form was extremely slender, and rising from the skin of his chest was a large crystal. It glowed a gold so bright that it lit up the entire room.

The man's head was tilted to the side, a long gash on his dark hairline. A tile from the ceiling lay across his left shoulder, propped up against a lattice work of metal that arched across the bed. A series of cables hung from the ceiling and wound around it, the ends exposed and touching a cylindrical crystal that sat in the centre of the frame, the end dipping down below the lattice.

"He's alive," Elyan said solemnly. "My guess is that the tile came down in the explosion, and it knocked the framework out of position. See how the crystal hangs down above his body? I think it's supposed to be in contact with the crystal in his chest."

"But how-" Arthur's eyes landed on the suppression cuffs. "He's a sorcerer. Aether is magic."

There was a footstep behind him and then Lancelot spoke.

"Elyan? You wanted me for something?"

Arthur stepped aside, letting the medic enter the room, and watched as he rushed to the unconscious man's side. He felt sick, horror welling up in his chest.

"Sire, we are the last ones still...on..." Percival's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the situation. "My God."

"I don't understand," Arthur shook his head. "How can aether be magic? It's illegal, but there's no way my father doesn't know about this."

"How so?" Elyan asked.

"The science division had to find a way to channel magic like this somehow," he answered. "My father would have had to authorise the experiments. Experiments on people. I just-how could he do this?"

Elyan didn't answer, but shook his head in sympathy.

"What I don't understand is how he's still alive," Lancelot chipped in. "There's no food or water in here. How does he survive with no sustenance?"

"His magic," Percival supplied. "It must keep him alive."

"And he can breathe," Elyan pointed to a grate on the wall. "He has the same air venting system as the rest of the ship."

Lancelot tossed the roof tile aside and undid the straps holding the man to the bed. He ran his hands carefully over his shoulder, assessing the damage.

"No broken bones," he concluded. "But I'm going to bind it anyway."

They watched as he strapped the sorcerer's arm to his chest with a length of bandage, pausing to run his fingers around the edge of the glowing crystal.

"This was surgically implanted," he murmured. "A very practised hand."

There was a distant rumble of thunder overhead, and Lancelot's hands paused in their ministrations.

"He's stable enough to move," he said. "But we'll need to be careful."

"I'll carry him," Percival offered, passing his pack to Arthur. He stepped to the side of the bed, and slipped his arms carefully under the sorcerer, lifting him and cradling him to his chest.

Moments later, he was stepping down onto the grass outside the ship. Lancelot guided him, shoulders weighed down by both his own and the medical bay supplies. Elyan and Arthur followed, pausing to shut and lock the Queen's door.

They hurried across the grass as fat drops of rain began to hurl themselves from the sky. Passing through a crumbling doorway, they made their way along a dark corridor and down a staircase into the large cellar the rest of the crew inhabited. A large fire had been started in the fireplace and a series of lanterns hung from the walls, warming and lighting the room.

Lancelot bustled over to the spot before the fire that had obviously been left for Arthur and unrolled the sleeping mat he carried under his arm. Carefully, Percival lowered the unconscious man onto it, as the crew watched on curiously. Arthur waved them off, and they slowly returned to their conversations.

He sat quietly, watching as Lancelot cleaned the cut on the sorcerer's forehead and checked the bindings on his arm before covering him with a blanket.

"He'll be alright, but I cannot say for sure when he'll wake up," he informed the prince. "He'll need water and then if he can keep it down, some broth."

Arthur glanced at his pocket watch, hearing the distant thunder crashing and echoing down the chimney.

"Get some rest," he instructed. "I will sit up with him."

The others retreated silently to set up their sleeping areas, leaving their prince and his unlikely ward in peace.

He sat for a long time, staring into the fire. Around him, the room slowly went quiet as the men settled down for the night. There was no way he could even attempt to sleep, his brain was buzzing.

He had always been told that magic was evil, but here was a sorcerer being used to power the Queen Ygraine. It must be torture for him, being tied up alone in that tiny capsule. No food, no water, no company. It was certainly Arthur's idea of hell.

He wondered how long the man had been locked in the capsule. Had he been powering the ship for the entire three years she'd been flying? Or had he replaced someone else? Someone who had burned out?

His gaze lowered to the sorcerer's face, studying it closely. Sharp cheekbones, plump lips, messy black hair. He was younger than Arthur had first thought, probably not as old as him, even.

The boy moaned softly, his head tossing from side to side. Arthur reached for his water canteen and moved closer.

"Shh," he soothed, slipping his hand under the boy's head. "Try not to move too much. Here, take a few sips of this."

He tilted the canteen to the boy's lips, letting the water trickle slowly out. The boy swallowed a few mouthfuls and Arthur took the cannister away, wary of letting him have too much at once.

Deep blue eyes blinked open, dark brows furrowing in confusion.

"Where?" his gaze drifted to the prince. "Arthur!"

"You know me?"

"I know all the crew," the boy smiled dazedly. "I see everything that happens on the ship. You're special though. You're my captain. You love the ship, and we love you in return."

Arthur startled, unsure of how to respond, but then reasoned that the boy was still muddled from the blow he'd suffered to the head.

"Do you remember what happened? Why we took you out of the ship?" he asked.

"There was a battle...and part of the ceiling came down. That's all I know," he answered.

"Yes, it knocked you unconscious, and pushed the framework away from you," the prince explained. "I told my engineer to break into your capsule because we couldn't do anything without the thrusters. We found you and couldn't leave you, there's a storm. Not that I'd leave you there anyway."

He realised that he was babbling and bit his lip, blushing. Not that he'd admit it.

"Do you have a name?" he asked kindly. "It doesn't seem fair that you know mine, but I don't have anything to call you."

"Merlin," the boy whispered.

"Merlin," Arthur echoed. "Like the bird. How fitting."

"I doubt my mother knew where I would end up when she named me," Merlin replied wryly.

"No, probably not."

Arthur suddenly realised that he was stroking Merlin's hair, and coughed in embarrassment. The boy was mesmerising. He couldn't help but reach out to him.

He offered his canteen again. Merlin accepted, and he helped him take a few more sips. When he'd finished, Arthur sat uncomfortably for a moment, wondering what to say. Studying the youthful face of his companion, he lit upon a topic of conversation.

"How old are you?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin frowned. "I was fifteen when I was caught, but a few weeks later I was put into the ship, and I lost track of time."

"Have you been in the ship since she was first built?" there was a lump of dread in Arthur's gut.

"Yes, I was the most powerful person in the program at the time."

"Eighteen," he muttered. "You're eighteen."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Mindlessly, Arthur's fingers sought out the dark hair of the other boy and began to stroke. He turned Merlin's words over in his mind. Three years locked up in the ship. How awful. What could such a young boy have done to deserve such a punishment? Then he froze. He had to be sure.

"Program? What program?"

"I'm not sure, really," Merlin replied. "When I was first captured, a scientist came to my cell and tested my magic. He told the man with him that I was powerful, and the man ordered him to put me in the program."

"Who was the man?"

Merlin shook his head.

"I don't know. I'm not from Camelot. I'm unfamiliar with its nobility."

"Where do you come from?"

"Ealdor, a small village in Essetir," he answered. "I lived there with my mother. I suppose she thinks I'm dead now."

He was brought from outside the kingdom? Snatched from his home and taken to a place where he would be tortured? Magic was legal in Essetir. Unless he'd committed a crime, he should have been left alone.

"Did you commit a crime?"

"No, I just stopped a tree from falling on an old man's house," Merlin's eyes were wide, and Arthur could see the truth in them. "I should have been more careful. I knew Aredian was in the area."

Aredian. His father's favourite Witchfinder. The man was abducting people from other kingdoms to further the King's fight against magic, and line his own pocket. Disgusting.

"I swear, I'll find a way to tell her you're alive," Arthur promised, clutching Merlin's hand. "But first, this man. What did he look like?"

"He was tall," the boy frowned at the ceiling in thought. "His hair was long and dark. He had it slicked back. And he wore dark clothes. Black, I think, but it was dark in the dungeons so I can't be sure."

Agravaine. It had to be. If this wasn't confirmation of his father's misdeeds, then Arthur wasn't the prince. His father had placed his uncle in charge of the aether program, and the two of them were always meeting to discuss improvements and ideas for new projects.

"What happened after you were assigned to the program?" Arthur asked in disgust.

"I was taken to a building near the docks and put in a cell. I don't know how long they left me there, but eventually they gave me some porridge," Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand as he described his terrible experience. "It was drugged though, and when I woke up I was tied to a bed and my chest was covered in bandages. Later, I found out that they'd implanted the crystal in my chest. Once I'd healed, they did all sorts of tests to check it was working.

"Finally, one day they locked me in a crate. When they got me out, I was in the ship and they tied me to the bed in that capsule."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Merlin," Arthur muttered. "I never knew. All my life I've been told that magic is evil and that sorcerers should be eliminated, but I had no idea that my father was doing this to your people."

Merlin laughed quietly.

"Magic isn't evil, clotpole," he admonished the prince gently. "People are. Magic is just magic. It does what people tell it to do."

"But magic users are always attacking Camelot," Arthur argued, affronted at the unusual name he'd been called. "Many knights have been killed defending the city."

"And why do they attack? Could it be that they are trying to rescue their kin and end the persecution?"

Arthur pulled back, turning Merlin's words over in his head. In a way, it made sense. He knew that magic had been legal until just after his birth. His father would never say why he'd changed the policy on magic, but Gaius had once told him that Uther had been horribly betrayed by a sorcerer. He hadn't questioned it further, but perhaps he should have. Did one person's actions really mean that an entire race should be condemned?

No. If one man killed another, he alone should be punished for the crime. The blame didn't lie with all men. Why should it be different for those with magic?

In that moment, Arthur vowed to end the discrimination. If not for all the magic users, then just for the sake of the beautiful boy before him. There was something about him that drew Arthur, and he knew he had to save him.

"I believe you," he whispered to the now sleeping boy. "I was wrong, and I'm going to free you. I'll free you all."

With that, he curled up next to Merlin, pulled his blanket up to his chin, and fell asleep.

There was a large dome of crystal rising out of his chest, the skin pulled tight around it by a complicated stitch.

"What the hell have you done to me?" he cried in shock.

The nurse glanced up at him but didn't answer, focusing instead on cleaning and re-wrapping his chest.

"I'm talking to you!" he snapped. "This is my body that's being mutilated. I have a right to know what you're doing."

The swung open as he spoke, the same scientist he'd seen before stepping through.

"You are a sorcerer. A criminal," he said coldly. "You have no rights."

"I am not a criminal!" Merlin protested. "I'm from Essetir. I was chased from my home, thrown in a cage and dragged to Camelot. Aredian is the criminal for kidnapping me. You are criminals for doing this to me."

The man slapped him, glaring icily, his goggles perched in his curly red hair. Merlin stared at him, challenging.

"Very well," he snarled. "A crystal attached to a metal plate has been fixed to the front of your ribcage. Your magic will pool in the crystal and be channelled out to provide power to lights, heaters, and other such items. Eventually, you'll likely be used to power something much bigger. The Prince's airship is almost complete, someone powerful like you will be perfect for the role."

"You can't do that," Merlin gasped. "I'm a person, not an engine. You can't just wire me in to an airship."

"We can, and if you are approved for the position, we will," the scientist snapped. "Assuming you heal well, and the tests prove successful, your future almost certainly lies within an airship. You should make your peace with that."

The nurse tied off the bandages and stepped towards the scientist. Ignoring his protests, they left the room. The last thing Merlin heard was the nurse reporting that the operation site was healing well. He cried and screamed, trying to thrash against his bonds.

He wasn't able to wriggle free, and ended up with an aching throat, and throbbing chest.

The next morning, Arthur blinked his eyes open to see Merlin's face close to his own. The other boy had rolled towards him during the night. His features were relaxed in sleep, his plump pink lips slightly parted, puffs of sweet breath escaping with every exhale.

Arthur allowed himself a few seconds to watch him before sitting up. Some of the men were taking advantage of the storm to have a lie-in, Gwaine snoring obnoxiously amongst them, but others were up and moving about. Lancelot was sitting nearby, stirring a huge pot of porridge over the fire.

"Breakfast Sire?" the medic asked.

Arthur's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd forgotten to eat last night in the confusion of Merlin's discovery.

"Please," he answered, taking the bowl that Lancelot offered him.

They sat in silence while Arthur ate, a few men coming over for their breakfasts. Merlin drew several curious glances and Arthur shifted to hide him more from view. It was only natural for the crew to wonder who he was and where he'd come from, but the prince felt strangely protective. He needed to keep him safe, and he knew that some of them wouldn't understand.

Swallowing the last mouthful, Arthur handed his bowl back to Lancelot.

"He woke up for a while last night," he informed the medic. ""His name is Merlin and he's eighteen years old. He's been in that capsule ever since the aether system was installed."

"That's awful," Lancelot shook his head. "Three years locked up in that tiny room. I'm sorry Arthur, I know he's your father and I know sorcerers can be dangerous, but they shouldn't allow this. It's wrong."

"It's worse. Merlin wasn't even arrested in Camelot. He was taken from his home in Essetir by Aredian."

"He was kidnapped?"

Arthur nodded. He opened his mouth to continue, but there was a rustle behind him. He turned around just as Merlin sat up.

"Good morning," the sorcerer gave him a shy smile.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough, thank you," Merlin's eyes drifted past the prince's shoulder.

"Hello Merlin," Lancelot smiled kindly. "My name is Lancelot, and I am the Queen Ygraine's medic."

"I know who you are," Merlin shivered and pulled the blanket higher. "I know everyone in the ship. I like to watch you all. The Bridge and the Common Room are the most exciting places."

"I see," the medic's smile wavered. "I have a spare shirt for you in my pack, it'll keep you warmer. First though, I'd like to check on your injuries. Would that be alright?"

"Yes, of course."

The sorcerer held still as Lancelot leaned closer, inspecting the cut on his forehead. Satisfied, he shifted to the side, beginning to unstrap Merlin's arm. Gasping, his fingers faltered as he spotted something he'd missed the night before.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, alarmed by the concerned frown on the medic's face.

"Pressure sores," Lancelot muttered. "Only a couple, and not that bad. Easily treated."

He turned to rummage in his supply pack, and the prince leaned around to better see Merlin's back. There were a few discoloured patches on the pale skin, but on his shoulder blades, there were several bright red blisters.

"Oh Merlin, they look painful," he murmured sympathetically.

"A little, but it's not so bad," the sorcerer replied. "I've had worse hurts."

"There should be more," Lancelot started dabbing cream onto the sores. "Do they ever let you out of that bed?"

"Every time the ship docks in Camelot," Merlin said over his shoulder. "They don't let me out of the room, but I can walk about. And they bring me soap and water so I can wash. My magic does its best to heal the sores, but it doesn't always have enough time to completely rid me of them."

"Well, at least it stopped them from getting any worse," the medic screwed the lid back on the pot of cream. "Try not to lie on your back for the next day or so. They need to heal fully."

He had Merlin stretch and rotate his arm, declaring him fit and handing him the shirt. As Merlin dragged it over his head, Arthur pulled Lancelot aside.

"Gather Leon, Elyan, Percival and Gwaine. Do not tell any of the others. The fewer people involved, the better for all of us."

"Right away Sire," Lancelot bowed and bustled off.

He turned back to Merlin and sat back down. The other boy had found Arthur's canteen and was slowly sipping at it.

"I hope you don't mind?" he indicated the bottle as the prince settled beside him.

"No, it's fine," Arthur shrugged. "If you feel like it later, you could try some broth."

"That would be nice," Merlin set the canteen down and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Before, when I said that I watch the goings on in the ship, I wasn't entirely truthful. I do like to watch the Common Room, but sometimes it gets a little too rowdy for my taste. And the Bridge can be somewhat boring at night, and that's usually when they have the light on in there. So mostly at night, I watch you."

"I don't understand. How can you watch us?" he frowned.

"Whenever someone turns on an appliance powered by magic, my power links me to it," Merlin explained. "I worked out how to follow it with my mind and see what's going on. I like to watch you, even if you're just reading through reports. It's peaceful. Though that time you fell asleep with your head in a bowl of stew was really funny!"

"It was not Merlin," Arthur rolled his eyes. "That stew didn't come out of my hair for days."

Merlin's smile wavered, and then dropped.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" he asked. "I know it's wrong to watch people without them knowing, but-"

"No, no not at all," Arthur assured him. "It was the only thing you could do. You were so alone, and that was wrong. People aren't meant to be alone."

"Sometimes I wish I could do more than watch," Merlin admitted after a moment, agitated. "I get so worried when we battle against pirates. I wish I could protect you better, but all I can do is make sure the ship is as fast and responsive as possible. I need to protect you, Arthur. I know it in my heart."

"And you have, Merlin," he grasped the boy by the shoulders, trying to calm him. "The ship's speed and manoeuvrability has saved us- me- many times. I've always been proud of how well she flies. But all this time it's been you. You're wonderful. And now it's my turn to protect you."

"Morning Princess," Gwaine plopped down with a yawn. "What's all this about? And who is this handsome lad?"

"Hello Gwaine, I'm Merlin."

"How did you-" he broke off as the others sat down, Lancelot making sure to position himself on Merlin's other side, just in case he became nervous around so many.

"Arthur?" Leon asked. "Who's this?"

"This is Merlin and stop flirting Gwaine," Arthur started firmly. "It's time you all knew the truth about aether."

After a few weeks, the wound on Merlin's chest had healed. The bandages had been removed a few days ago and he was left alone to sit in his cell, nothing but the eerie glow from his chest to light the room.

He hated it. Hated them. Hated King Uther.

Why couldn't they have let him be? He'd never done any harm. They had no right to snatch him from his home. From his mother. He'd been all she had. What would become of her? He hoped desperately that she'd be alright.

The door clanked open, admitting the red haired scientist. Merlin hadn't seen him since the day he'd explained the purpose of the crystal.

Two burly men followed him in, one holding a chair, the other a box. Merlin shrank back as they set the objects down and advanced on him. He squirmed and struggled, but was no match for their strength.

Forced into the chair, his arms strapped down, Merlin watched apprehensively as the scientist stepped forward.

"What are you going to do to me?"

The man ignored him, reaching instead into the box and pulled out a gag, shoving it into Merlin's mouth and tying it tightly. That done, he turned back to the box and retrieved a small white crystal and a notebook.

Holding the crystal against the one implanted in Merlin's chest, he watched as it lit up with a bright golden light.

Merlin's eyes widened, and he made a muffled sound of surprise, but the scientist merely dropped the rock back into the box and made a note on the notebook.

And so began the seemingly endless series of tests.

There was a tense silence once Arthur finished speaking.

"All this time," Gwaine shook his head. "You were right there and we had no idea. I'm so sorry Merlin."

"Everyone needs to stop apologising to me," Merlin smiled. "None of you are at fault here."

"But what has been done to you is wrong. Surely you see that," Lancelot said gently.

"Of course I do," Merlin assured him. "But none of you had anything to do with it. So, you're apologising for nothing."

"We're just trying to convey our sympathies," the medic explained.

"I know, I just..." Merlin sighed and trailed off. "Never mind."

Lancelot frowned and let it go, but Arthur had the sneaking suspicion that he was silently questioning Merlin's mental state.

"The main concern we should have right now is how we're going to help Merlin," Elyan said.

"And the others," Leon put in. "There are fifty other ships in Camelot's fleet. All powered by aether- I mean magic. We can't just save Merlin and leave the others to suffer."

"Agreed," Percival nodded. "What's the plan?"

"We go back to Camelot. I confront my father and get him to put an end to the program," Arthur replied decisively.

"And if it doesn't work?" Lancelot asked. "No offence Arthur, but the king is rather aggressive about his anti-magic campaign. And aether is a very important technology for Camelot. He's not going to be willing to sacrifice it without a replacement."

"You're right. It's a long shot, I know. But I have to try to resolve this diplomatically. He's my father," the prince sighed heavily. "In the rather likely event that it doesn't work, we need to be ready to run."

"Run where?" Leon asked. "Camelot's forces will be on our tail as soon as the king realises we're gone. We can't leave the kingdom, it would be seen as an act of war by any country we enter. All the docks in Camelot are too exposed, we'd be seen by our pursuers. And besides that, the seven of us are no match for a full crew of knights."

"There is one place we could go," Gwaine was stroking his beard thoughtfully. "But you won't like it."

"Just tell us," Arthur ordered. "Like it or not, it doesn't seem as if we have much of a choice."

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings," the roguish man said in a rush.

The other airmen stared at him in shock, Merlin watching on in confused silence.

The Valley of the Fallen Kings was one of the most dangerous places in the kingdom. It was originally the sacred burial ground of the great kings of Camelot's beginning, but over the years it had been abandoned. The majestic statues had crumbled, and a forest had sprung up around the ruins.

Nowadays, it was home to dozens of pirate crews, their airships docked in clearings. They were protected by anti aircraft guns hidden in the forest, and sentries posted in trees along the outskirts. Camelot had long despaired of ridding the Valley of the pirates. It was suicide to fly too close unless you flew a pirate flag.

There were also rumours of Druids living under the protection of the pirates, in exchange for their knowledge in healing and protective magic.

"Are you mad?" Leon demanded. "We can't go there. They'll shoot us out of the sky before we even get close."

"No, they won't. Trust me," Gwaine shook his head. "Remember, I used to be a wanderer before I became a knight. I've met a lot of pirates. Sure, some are barbarians. But most are just men trying to make a living and feed their families. On the whole, they're decent people.

"If we approach under a white flag, they'll watch us closely, but they'll let us land."

"What makes you so sure?" Lancelot asked.

"We have the Queen Ygraine," he answered. "She's the most valuable ship in Camelot's fleet. No sense in destroying her, not when there's a chance they could have her."

"Fine. Say you're right and they let us land," Leon shrugged. "How do we stop them from killing us once we've docked?"

"Curiosity," Gwaine replied. "They'll want to know why the Princess is coming to them. And they'll see it as an opportunity to have the future king in their debt. Plus, we've all heard the whispers. If there are Druids there, and we make it clear that we want to help sorcerers, they may be inclined to protect us from the pirates."

"Very well. If no one has any other suggestions, be ready to head for the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Arthur decided.

For a moment, they all sat quietly, contemplating the dangers ahead. Merlin, uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere that surrounded the group, shifted closer to Arthur.

"There's something else worrying me," Lancelot spoke up. "If your father doesn't listen to you, he may have Merlin taken to the dungeons, or removed by the aether program. We need to protect him whilst we're in Camelot, but how?"

"We could smuggle him out of the ship when we dock?" Percival suggested. "Hide him somewhere in the castle?"

"No," Arthur frowned. "If Merlin is found missing it'll spark a castle lock down. There will be guards everywhere. It'll be too difficult to escape. Somehow, we have to protect him on the ship. And if worst comes to worst, we'll break him out of the dungeons."

Silence fell as the airmen wondered what to do.

"The ventilation system!" Elyan burst out, eyes brightening. "The control panel is right outside the capsule. I could sabotage it on the approach to Camelot. It's protocol for mechanical faults to be fixed before the technicians perform maintenance on the aether systems. I could stay on board to 'fix' it. The aether technicians will stay away as long as I'm there."

"Right, that sounds like a plan," Arthur nodded slowly. "I'll make sure that we arrive back in the city later on in the day. That way, there's less chance you'll be accused of obstructing the aether technicians. Also, if we need to flee, we can do so under the cover of darkness."

They moved on to lighter topics for the rest of the day, asking Merlin about his childhood and telling him more about themselves. Arthur smiled, enjoying the happy atmosphere. It was nice to relax with his men, and Merlin's laugh was exquisite. Deep and rolling, free.

In the evening, one of the galley staff made a large pot of stew, and they gratefully wolfed down their portions, though Lancelot insisted Merlin stick to broth. The sorcerer complained, but the medic wouldn't budge.

"I don't want to challenge your stomach with anything too rich just yet," he said.

Later, as Arthur returned from a bathroom trip, Lancelot pulled him aside.

"Sire, I'd like to express my concerns about Merlin's mental health," he whispered. "I know that he seems perfectly fine, but he has been tortured and locked away for years. There's bound to be some mental scarring. I just think that we should keep an eye on him."

"We will," Arthur reassured him. "But, there's something in my gut that says he's alright."

The medic nodded, and shuffled off to his bedroll.

Arthur returned to Merlin and flopped down behind him, picking up the pot of cream that Lancelot had left for him. Hiking the sorcerer's shirt up, he carefully dabbed the cold white paste onto the blisters. The skin beneath his fingers was warm and irritated, but allowing his fingers to skim down Merlin's unblemished side as he lowered the shirt, he found it to be soft and smooth normally.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he shifted around and lay down on his mat, Merlin facing him. Around them, the men were also settling down for the night as the storm continued to rage overhead.

"The storm will blow itself by morning hopefully," he murmured. "Once the ship is checked over for safety, we can set off. Now we have solid plan, I'm eager to just get it over with."

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, his eyes flicking away from Arthur's.

"Whatever for?"

"You're all preparing to commit treason for me," he replied. "You're going to fight against your own father. I feel guilty."

"Not just for you Merlin," Arthur squeezed the boy's wrist gently, the suppression cuff cold under his palm. "We're fighting for what's right. If that means committing treason, then so be it."

They lay quietly for a moment, Arthur's fingers trailing across Merlin's skin. The cuff remained freezing under the prince's flesh, and it brought forth a sudden realisation.

"God Merlin! I just realised," he stilled in horror at his own thoughtlessness. "Our entire plan is based on using the Queen to return to, and flee from, Camelot. Never once did we ask if you would be willing to power her still. Would you?"

"Of course," Merlin smiled. "I don't mind. The Queen Ygraine has been my home for years, I'm not sure how I'd feel about just leaving her here and walking back to the city."

Arthur breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad that they hadn't wasted the day on a useless plan.

"Besides," the boy continued. "It gives my magic an outlet. I don't like not using it. It's uncomfortable to have it all build up with no escape."

"How long have you practised magic for?" Arthur asked curiously.

"I was born with it," Merlin replied. "My mother said that I was moving objects with my mind before I could talk."

"Is that even possible?" the prince frowned. "I was always taught that magic required years of study and incantations."

"It is that way for most people, I think. Though some are more gifted than others, I assume," the sorcerer shrugged. "My mother always said that I was special. She couldn't, or wouldn't, explain why I was different. I wonder, sometimes, if my father had powers she never knew or told me about."

"You said it's uncomfortable not using your magic. How so?" Arthur changed the topic away from Merlin's unknown father.

"It's like a prickling, an itch under my skin. An itch I can't scratch," Merlin visibly struggled to describe it. "It was worse when the cuffs were first put on. Like a fire, burning me from the inside out. I've gotten used to it now, I suppose. Plus, the ship siphons it out."

Arthur eyed the cuff, running his fingers over it, tracing the runes etched into the unnaturally cold metal.

"If, if we managed to get the cuffs off, what do you think would happen? And would you like us to try?"

"I'm not sure," Merlin blinked, taken aback. "I've not had to control my magic for a long time, and there's a lot of it. It might get away from me at first, but I don't think it would be too dangerous. I suppose I would like you to try, but only if you want to. If you trust me with it."

"What would you do if we got them off?" Arthur watched him closely. He wasn't going to give Merlin a weapon if he was going to use it to hurt people, though he was sure he wouldn't.

"What I used to do, I guess," Merlin held Arthur's gaze. "Help people when I can. And of course, I'd protect you."

"You seem very fixated on the idea of protecting me," the prince pointed out. "You really only met me yesterday. Where does this desire come from?"

"I'm not sure. I just have this sense that I'm supposed to look after you," Merlin blinked slowly, obviously getting tired. "I dream sometimes, of a great golden dragon. He tells me that we are two sides of the same coin. He says that you are destined to be the greatest king this land has ever known, and that it's my job to keep you safe and guide you. I believe him."

Arthur smiled softly, touched by the boy's conviction.

"Sleep," he whispered. "We've a busy few days ahead. If not weeks. You're going to need it."

"Goodnight Arthur," Merlin murmured.

"Sweet dreams."

He watched as the sorcerer drifted off, his features softening and making him look so much younger than he was. There was no sign of the suffering he'd endured on his face, and even awake, the faint lines around his eyes and mouth could be mistakenly attributed to smiles instead of stress. He was truly beyond beautiful, inside and out.

As he closed his eyes, ready to sleep himself, Arthur decided to have Elyan examine the suppression cuffs. Hopefully, the engineer could figure out a way to get them off.

Merlin blinked drowsily, trying to stretch but finding himself in a cramped space. Very cramped. With a start, he realised that he was crammed into a crate of some sort.

He frowned, trying to keep calm as he searched his memories to work out what had happened.

The red haired scientist had visited him for days, each time having the burly guards strap him to the chair and gag him. He'd attached many different objects to the crystal in Merlin's chest, observing the results and noting them down on the notebook. He never spoke, but the sorcerer had the impression that he was pleased with what he saw. It was the satisfied gleam in the man's pale blue eyes that gave it away.

He'd come in again this morning, but the guards didn't have the chair or the box with them. Instead, they'd held him down and the scientist had injected him with something. It all went dark after that. They'd drugged him and stuffed him into some sort of crate, he concluded.

Staying as still as possible, he concentrated on his senses, trying to work out what was happening.

The crate was rocking slightly, and he could hear the sound of wheels on stone. Wherever it was they were taking him, they didn't want anyone to see him. Clearly, they were trying to keep what they were doing to sorcerers a secret.

The rolling of the wheels stopped, and the crate jostled harder. He heard men grunting, and realised that he was now being carried. Possibly up steps if the angle he was tilting at could be believed.

He wondered if he should bang on the walls around him, and shout, but realised that the people moving him probably worked for the scientist and his program. They would know what their cargo was, and he'd be in trouble if he attracted attention. Not that he wasn't already in trouble.

After what seemed like an age, there was a thump as he was set down, and heard the click of a lock. The lid was lifted off, and before he could even try to move, the familiar two guards grabbed his arms and hauled him out.

They were in a small room, wires hanging down from the ceiling to wrap around a metal frame that sat on a stand off to the side. Merlin himself was dragged to a bed in the centre of the space and forced to lie down.

"What's going on? Where am I?"

He tried to sit up, but the guards held him firmly. The red haired scientist stepped forward,and fastened thick leather straps across his ankles, stomach and forearms.

Once he was secure, the guards stepped back, and the scientist gestured to the metal frame.

"Bring the loom," he ordered.

The guards lifted it from it's stand and carefully lifted it to hover over Merlin's body, positioning it according to the scientist's directions.

"What is that?" Merlin eyed the large crystal now touching his own. "What is it for?"

The scientist cuffed him over the head, and set to work clamping the 'loom' to the bed frame. Finally, it was fixed firmly into place and he turned to the door.

"Systems test," he ordered. "Start small and work upwards. The lights first. Every room."

Merlin lifted his head, trying to peer over the contraption above him, and just about caught a glimpse of two more guards as they left the room. It made sense, he supposed. The two familiar guards were strong, but they couldn't have carried him here alone. Somehow, he couldn't envision the scientist helping.

Suddenly, the crystal attached to the framework lit up gold, and Merlin gasped as he felt a tiny portion of his magic rush towards his chest and out.

"What's happening? What is this?" he demanded, but once again he was ignored.

The crystal glowed again and again, different amounts of magic pouring out of his body as more and more tests were performed.

Eventually, Merlin stopped asking what was happening. He knew he wouldn't get an answer, and didn't want to anger the scientist. He hated being gagged.

Finally, days of tests later, the scientist deemed everything satisfactory. The guards constantly in the doorway were removed, and the door sealed shut.

Merlin was alone.

The next morning, Arthur awoke to the sound of Merlin's voice. He was pleading with Lancelot to allow him porridge.

"Just a small amount," the medic conceded. "I still don't want to stress your stomach."

Forcing his heavy eyes open, he was greeted with a view of Merlin's creamy skin. The sorcerer's shirt was pushed up and Lancelot was applying the blister cream to his pressure sores.

"They look a lot better this morning," Arthur muttered, pushing himself up.

"Almost gone," Lancelot acknowledged. "You heal fast Merlin."

"It's my magic," the boy replied. "It's always healed me quickly."

By the time Arthur returned with two bowls of porridge, the medic had wandered off. One of the men had an old injury that was playing up, and Lancelot had been giving him daily massages to ease the pain. Secretly, Arthur was pleased, it meant that he got Merlin to himself for a little longer.

"I don't know why Lancelot's so worried," Merlin set his empty bowl down. "Porridge is all I've eaten for years. I won't get sick."

"Did you tell him that?" Arthur asked.

"Yes. But because I hadn't eaten in three days, he thinks a full bowl would be too much."

"Well, I find it's better to do as he says," Arthur shrugged. "He'll give you The Eyes if you don't."

Merlin glanced at him quizzically.

"The Eyes?"

"The Eyes," the prince nodded sagely. "It's this look where his eyes are pleading and the rest of his face is disappointed. It makes you want to do whatever he asks for fear of upsetting him."

Merlin snickered.

"Yes, I suppose I can see him pulling off that effect."

Arthur studied his companion.

"You could do it better, I think," he said. "With your face it would be devastating. If you gave The Eyes, you'd break hearts."

Blushing, Merlin ducked his head, smiling shyly.

"I mean it. You're beautiful."

"T-thank you," Merlin stammered. "I think that you are very handsome, too."

"Why thank you Merlin," the prince winked.

A throat cleared behind him, and he turned to see Gwaine grinning down at him lasciviously.

"Just thought you'd want to know that the storm's over Princess. Elyan and Percival are checking the ship for safety."

"Excellent. Thank you Gwaine," Arthur narrowed his eyes in warning. "Stay here and help Leon keep the men organised. Merlin?"

He sprang to his feet and held his hand out to the sorcerer, Merlin grasped it firmly and allowed the prince to pull him up.

Leading the way out of the cellar, Arthur guided Merlin out into the fresh spring day.

"Ah!" Merlin hissed and shaded his eyes from the sun.

"Gods, I'm sorry," Arthur threw his arm around Merlin's shoulders and pulled him close, allowing him to bury his head in the prince's neck. "I didn't even think about the light."

"It's fine," Merlin mumbled, his voice muffled. "I'm not completely unused to it, the crystals glow enough to light up the capsule. It just a little bright out here."

"Don't worry, we'll increase your light exposure slowly," Arthur pulled the keys out of his pocket. "Soon you'll be comfortable in the brightest summer day."

"I look forward to it."

Keeping an arm firmly around the boy, Arthur unlocked the cargo bay doors and led them into the dim interior. Sensing the light change, Merlin lifted his head and around at the supply crates strapped to the floor.

"It's like a dream," he whispered. "I can't believe I'm really here, seeing it with my own eyes."

"It's real."

Arthur tightened his grip and guided the sorcerer up the stairs and along the corridor to his cabin. Inside, he drew the curtain across the porthole, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Merlin looked around in interest, running his fingers gently across the edge of the desk.

"Sit down if you want," Arthur gestured to the chair. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm just going to speak to Elyan quickly."

He hurried out, and arrived at the door just as Elyan and Percival slithered down the ladders on the hull exterior, their boots hitting the grass with a soft thud.

"Everything seems fine Sire," the engineer reported. "No storm damage that I could see."

"Wonderful," Arthur nodded. "Percival, could you please heat some water over the fire downstairs? I'd like to wash."

The burly Knight nodded and turned back to the ruins.

"Elyan, before you head to engineering, could you come to my cabin?" Arthur gestured for the other man to follow him. "I'd like you to have a look at the suppression cuffs. I want to know if you think there's a way to get them off."

"Take them off?"

"Yes, I want to give Merlin his life back. He was born with his powers and it hurts him not to use them," he explained. "If he's no longer powering the ship, he needs to be able to let the magic out another way."

"I see," Elyan nodded. "Well it can't hurt to take a look. I'm sure I can work something out."

They entered the prince's cabin to find Merlin sitting at Arthur's desk, idly drawing on a scrap of paper.

"I'm sorry," the boy flushed guiltily. "I should have asked, I know."

"Nothing to apologise for Merlin. I don't mind," Arthur peered over Merlin's shoulder to see the outline of a dragon etched into the paper. "It's going to be good when it's finished."

"You'll let me finish it?"

"Of course. If you want to?"

The sorcerer nodded enthusiastically.

"Listen Merlin, I've brought Elyan along to have a look at those cuffs. He's going to see if there's a way to take them off."

Merlin's eyes lit up, and he leapt to his feet. Bouncing around the table, he held his arms out to the engineer. Elyan chuckled and grasped Merlin's hand, pushing his sleeve up. Twisting the pale limb around, he peered closely through the magnifying lenses on his goggles for several moments, before repeating the process with the other arm.

"Actually, they're much more simple than I was expecting," he pronounced, straightening and pushing his goggles up onto his head. "There's a very small keyhole in each of them. It should be very easy to pick the locks. Would you like me to do it now?"

"No, not yet," Arthur glanced apologetically at Merlin. "Let's wait until I've spoken to my father. If he agrees to stop this madness, we can take them off as a symbol of change for Camelot. If he doesn't...well, Merlin's not sure how his magic will react, and we need to be sure we can escape in the Queen. I'm sorry Merlin. If we have to run, we'll take them off once we're safe."

"It's fine, I understand."

The sorcerer didn't look too disappointed. Arthur realised that he was just happy that there was a way to remove the cuffs, and that Arthur was willing to do so.

"If that's all, I should get to engineering," Elyan shifted towards the door. "I need to fix the wiring frame in the capsule."

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you," Arthur dismissed him, and the engineer left.

Merlin wandered back to the desk, perching on the edge of the chair and picking up the pencil. Glancing shyly up at Arthur and receiving an encouraging smile, he started to fill in some of the detail on his drawing. Trying to put the boy at ease, Arthur flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes.

Willing himself to relax, he listened to the scratch of the pencil against the paper and wondered what he was going to say to his father. He was no fool. He knew the King hated magic, and was often irrational when the subject was raised, but could he make the man see sense?

No, probably not. But Arthur could be stubborn too, and he was determined to get answers. Answers as to why Uther banned magic, and why he allowed this cruelty to be done to innocent people.

But once he had the answers, what would he do? He was determined to end the injustice, but was he really ready to do what would have to be done? Could he usurp his father? Because that is what it would come to.

Perhaps his father's hatred constituted a kind of madness? If he was mentally unsound, it would be seen as the only logical course to remove him from the throne. Arthur could rule as Regent in good conscience.

Before he could ponder the idea further, there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called, sitting up.

The door clicked open, and Percival stepped in carrying a metal pail of steaming water.

"As you requested Sire," he said, setting it down.

"Thank you," Arthur stood up to grab it.

Percival bowed and left, and the prince took the pail to his washing stand. Putting the plug in the basin, he poured half of the water in and yanked his shirt over his head. After washing and shaving, he emptied the basin and refilled it with the last of the water.

"There's some water for you here," he turned to Merlin, just catching deep blue eyes darting away from him. "Come and wash."

The boy did so, and as he patted his skin dry, Arthur took note of the dark stubble decorating his chin.

"Here..."

Turning Merlin to face him, he carefully shaved him, trying not to let his hands shake under the intense stare he was receiving.

"When this is all over, I'll teach you how to shave for yourself," he murmured when he finished, running a fingertip down the hairless jawline.

"I'd like that," Merlin smiled, his voice soft.

Realising just how close they were, Arthur stepped back, clearing his throat. Grabbing a fresh shirt from the cupboard, he dragged it over his head, mentally berating himself. Merlin was so young and innocent. He had to be more careful with him. He didn't know how to look after himself.

Sinking onto his bed, he watched Merlin as he returned to his drawing. The page was covered now in harsh, dark lines and gentle shading. Though he couldn't see it clearly from his position, Arthur felt sure that it was beautiful.

"Do you enjoy drawing Merlin?"

"Yes," the boy replied. "I have since I was a child. Sometimes when I got older, I would sell my drawings at the market. I didn't get much money for them, but even a few coins make a difference when you have very little to start with."

"Yes, I suppose so,"Arthur muttered.

They lapsed into silence, Merlin drawing and Arthur watching, trying not to give in to his troubling thoughts. After a while, there was a tap on the door.

"Sire, I've fixed the frame. Once Merlin's in place, the ship will be ready to go," Elyan's voice was muffled by the wood.

"Thank you," the prince called. "Would you go and get the men please?"

"Of course."

Elyan's footsteps moved away from the door, and Arthur turned to Merlin who had rounded the desk to stand beside him.

"I'm afraid it's time to go Merlin."

"I know," he replied, holding the drawing out. "For you."

Smiling, he reached out and took it, gazing with wonder at the detailed rendering. It was beautifully shaded and the eyes seemed almost alive, old and wise.

"Thank you," he set it carefully down on the bedside table. "It's lovely. I have something for you too."

He pulled a jacket lined with soft wool out of the cupboard and passed it to the boy.

"I know that you can't wear a shirt in the capsule, but this should keep you warm."

"Thank you Arthur."

Merlin pulled his shirt off and shrugged into the coat. Arthur swallowed, forcing his eyes away from the pale, slender torso revealed to him. The sorcerer was an incredibly lovely creature, and the prince was finding himself more and more drawn to him as the minutes passed.

Together, they left the cabin and made their way to engineering. Stepping into the capsule, Arthur eyed the bed with it's newly attached frame. Elyan had also repaired the ceiling, the hole exposing the inner hull covered.

Merlin slipped past him, sitting on the end of the bed and wiggling upwards under the frame. He fidgeted for a moment, adjusting the lie of the coat under him and getting comfortable.

"We'll leave the door open so you won't be alone again," Arthur frowned, uncomfortable with the vision before him. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to fasten the belt across your stomach. Just in case we hit rough air, or pirates. I don't want you getting thrown about and hurt."

"That's fine, I'm used to it," Merlin smiled. "It'll be nice to have my hands free and someone to talk to."

"We'll be back in Camelot the day after tomorrow. You'll be out of here, and those cuffs, in three days. I promise," he swore as he tied the strap.

"Sorry to interrupt," Elyan said tentatively from behind Arthur. "Everyone is on board, and Gwaine is ready to release the anchors."

"Right," he turned back to Merlin. "I need to get to the Bridge. I'll come back and see you later. Have fun with Elyan."

"I will. Bye Arthur," Merlin smiled and gave him a small wave.

He moved towards the door, Elyan stepping aside to let him pass.

"Take care of him."

"I will Sire," the engineer replied.

Striding onto the Bridge, Arthur settled himself into the captain's chair and switched on the intercom.

"Raise the anchors. Let's go home," he ordered.

–

The journey back to Camelot was easy. There was no sign of pirates or trouble on the ground, and so they made good time.

Both evenings, when the night pilot stepped onto the Bridge, Arthur headed to engineering, stopping briefly in the galley to pick up dinner for himself and Merlin. The rest of the evening was spent regaling the sorcerer with stories of his adventures. He was reluctant to share them at first, not wanting to seem as though he was bragging. Usually he wouldn't mind, but he wanted to make a good impression. Merlin seemed to enjoy them, though, so he relented in the end.

On the second afternoon, a speck appeared on the horizon. Camelot.

Arthur handed the controls over to Leon and headed back to engineering. In the capsule, Elyan was telling Merlin about a practical joke he'd played on his sister. The sorcerer was grinning widely, clearly enjoying the engineer's mischievous side.

"I hate to spoil the party, but we should be reaching Camelot in about three hours," he leaned against the door frame. "I didn't know how long you'd need to fiddle with the ventilation system, so I thought I'd give you as much warning as possible."

"I'll run a ventilation cycle and then get started," Elyan pushed himself to his feet. "I need to put it back together once it's broken so it doesn't look suspicious."

He stepped out of the capsule and pulled a lever on a complicated looking panel. There was a loud clanking as pipes were extended to the outside of the ship. It was followed by a humming as the stale air from inside the ship was sucked out and replaced by fresh air pulled in through the pipes.

"When we dock in Camelot, I think it would be best if we shut the door. Just in case the aether technicians come on board before I speak to my father," Arthur reached for Merlin's hand.

"Right," Merlin nodded.

"Whatever happens, you will be free. I'll see you later on."

After one last squeeze, he dropped Merlin's hand and returned to the Bridge.

For the next two and a half hours, Arthur sat silently in the captain's chair watching as the city came ever closer. A feeling of deep dread built up in his stomach, and he tried desperately to hold on to the anger he felt over the treatment of sorcerers. He'd never opposed his father on such a large topic before, and for the first time in his life, he was terrified of seeing the man.

"Leon, if my father refuses to end the program, I want you to take off an hour after nightfall whether I'm here or not," he ordered. "Get Merlin, and yourselves, to safety."

"Yes Sire," his first mate bowed his head.

"Once the ship is docked and you've made a truce with the pirates, have Elyan remove Merlin's suppression cuffs," he continued. "I will join you in the Valley as soon as possible."

"We will guard Merlin and the Queen with our lives while we wait for you," Leon pledged.

"Thank you," Arthur glanced around at his men. "I don't think I've said this, but you don't have to help us if you aren't comfortable with it. We are likely to commit treason tonight, and you have all sworn allegiance to our King. I know that you are men of your word."

"We swore to protect the people as well as the King," Gwaine told him. "We'll do what's right. Anyway, it was you who knighted me Arthur. I swore my allegiance to you. You were the reason I became a knight. I have no care for your father, if I'm honest. It's you I believe in. You're a good man, and you'll be a better king than Uther."

There was a murmur of agreement around the room, and Arthur found his throat closing, touched. Pride swelled in his chest. These were his men, his friends, and they were good, brave souls. He was honoured to have their loyalty.

"Thank you," was all he could say.

–

Arthur opened the door and kicked the unfolding steps out. Stepping down, his men following, he strode towards the dock's exit. There was a team of aether technicians waiting to the side of the deeply buried pipes the Queen was tethered to, and he stopped by them.

"I'm afraid that we had an issue with the ventilation system on the approach to Camelot," he said haughtily. "As such, my engineer will be remaining on board whilst it is repaired."

"Very well, Your Highness," a red haired technician smiled coldly. "We shall wait for him to finish before we begin."

With a brisk nod, Arthur squared his shoulders and set off for the Council Chambers.

His father was looking over some reports when he arrived. Arthur motioned for the guards to close the doors, and waited with his arms crossed for his father to notice him.

"Arthur! I'm glad you're home," Uther looked up as the doors banged shut. "I trust you found shelter during the storm?"

"At Daobeth," he replied. "I know better than to try to fly in weather like that."

"Of course," the king gave a small smile. "So you have anything to report from your patrol?"

"Yes actually," there was a nervous flutter in his stomach. "We had a short altercation with a pirate ship a few hours before the storm hit."

He was about to continue, but Uther interrupted.

"You destroyed them, I trust?"

"Yes," Arthur nodded. "But we sustained damage in the encounter. The ship lost all aether systems and had to rely on the wind to carry us to Daobeth. I ordered my engineer to open the control capsule."

"You should not have done that," Uther was watching him carefully. "He is not trained to deal with aether."

"We needed the system repaired in order to return to Camelot," Arthur defended his decision. "My engineer is the best in the fleet and I believed he could affect a repair. However, we were in for a shock."

Uther's eyes remained stony.

"I know you know what I found."

"What is your point Arthur?"

"How can you allow this- this brutality?" he demanded. "This aether program does nothing but torture innocent people!"

"Sorcerers are a threat Arthur," Uther snapped. "They need to be controlled. The aether program makes them useful. If it were not for this, they would face execution."

"Not all of them pose a threat, surely," Arthur pointed out. "Merlin, the boy in the Queen is from Essetir. He never did anyone harm. Aredian abducted him from his home."

"He told you that he has harmed no one, but you cannot believe him," his father growled. "And Aredian understands the danger of sorcerers. He works hard to bring them to justice."

"Aredian understands the financial value of sorcerers. He works hard to fill his pockets," Arthur scoffed. "And why shouldn't I believe Merlin? Being a sorcerer doesn't automatically make him a liar."

"Magic corrupts," the king snarled. "It rots the soul and leaves behind a mad, power hungry shell. Those who practise magic are pure evil."

"Why do you hate magic users so much?" Arthur asked. "Gaius told me you had been betrayed by a sorcerer, but what happened? What did they do that was so terrible?"

"Magic killed your mother!"

Shocked, Arthur stared at his father in the wake of the man's scream. The king was panting, his eyes burning with terrible pain, rage etched onto his features.

"Mother died in childbirth," he whispered.

"No," Uther dropped his gaze. "It was sorcery."

"Tell me."

"For many years your mother and I tried for a child," his father said after a moment. "None of our attempts bore fruit. Ygraine was... barren."

He closed his eyes as though the very word pained him.

"We became desperate, I became desperate. I needed an heir," he continued. "I begged the sorceress Nimueh for help, and she granted my wish. She told me a life must be taken in order to grant a life. I executed a murderer the night the spell was cast. It should have been sacrifice enough, but Nimueh rejected it. She took your mother instead. I thought she was my friend, but she murdered the love of my life."

"And that is reason enough to condemn an entire race?" Arthur asked. "What she did is truly awful, and now that I know I hate her as much as you do. But that is no excuse for hunting and torturing thousands of people. There are better ways of controlling magic."

Uther looked up, his eyes flashing.

"I am the king and I decided the law," he shouted. "Magic is illegal and it shall stay that way."

"But Father-"

"You will go to your chambers and you will stay there," the king ordered. "In the morning, the sorcerer from your ship will be executed and replaced."

"No, you can't!" Arthur shouted.

"I can and I will," Uther thundered. "The reports I have been given on this boy state that he is extremely powerful. Clearly, his power is too great for the suppression cuffs. He has broken free and enchanted you. He is too dangerous to be allowed to live. Once he is dead you will be free of his spell, and you will stop this nonsense. I will see to it that the technician in charge of this boy is punished for this oversight."

"Merlin is innocent!" Arthur insisted.

"Guards!" his father bellowed.

The doors burst open and the scarlet clad soldiers rushed in brandishing their weapons.

"Escort the prince to his chambers. Ensure that he stays there," Uther ordered. "Don't worry, my son. I will save you from this evil."

"You cannot do this!"

Arthur struggled in the guards' hold, yelling all the way to his chambers.

–

As darkness fell, Arthur stood in his window staring out into the courtyard. Arms crossed, he dug his fingers into his sides as he watched a pair of guards fix a rope to the crossbeam on the newly constructed platform. Earlier, just after he'd given up banging on his bedroom door, he looked out to see Merlin being dragged across the cobbles.

Shuddering, he tried to banish the terrified look on the boy's face from his mind's eye. He hoped that Merlin was being brave down in the dungeons, that he still believed in Arthur and his men. The Prince had faith that his friends would find a way to rescue the sorcerer.

Meanwhile, he would work on liberating himself.

He wondered if he should have asked Gaius for help. The physician had visited earlier on Uther's orders. The king wanted to be sure that 'the enchantment' wasn't affecting his son physically.

"You knew," Arthur accused as soon as the elderly man entered the room. "You knew the truth of my mother's death."

He watched Gaius hang his head in the window's reflection.

"Yes," he answered.

"Why did you never tell me?" Arthur clenched his fists and turned to look him in the eyes.

"I wanted to," Gaius sighed. "But your father ordered me never to speak of it."

Arthur relaxed with an explosive exhale.

"Did she kill my mother on purpose? Or was the spell just too much for her to control?" he asked.

"Nimueh was very powerful and well practised," the physician said slowly. "She could have directed the magic away from your mother, I believe. But in truth, I do not know. It is possible that she lost control. We will never know for sure, I fear."

"She's dead?"

"Presumably. She disappeared from the castle mere hours after your mother's death," Gaius shuffled towards a chair. "Your father ordered her arrest as soon as he could speak through his grief. The next morning, magic was outlawed. Nimueh hasn't been seen since.

"Some of the attacks on Camelot in the early days of the Purge bore her mark. They stopped after a while, and I have not suspected her of any attack since. I would recognise her hand anywhere. She is either dead, or she has left the country forever."

Arthur stood in silence for a moment, trying to take it all in.

"It's odd," he said finally. "I mean that it feels strange to know that my father hates magic with such passion, and yet it is because of magic that I am alive."

"Do not think that your father resents your life Arthur," Gaius looked at him sharply. "You are precious to him. Uther loves you."

"I never questioned that," Arthur slumped into the chair opposite the physician. "His actions this afternoon prove that."

"Yes, this boy," Gaius' gaze dropped to his hands. "Uther is very upset."

"Did you know? Did you know what the aether program does?" he asked.

"No," the physician seemed to age by several years. "I suspected that magic was involved, but I could never find proof. Nor did I think that Uther would allow it if it did. I underestimated the depth of his hatred. Though I have always wondered what happened to the sorcerers captured and brought here over the years. I assumed that they were executed in secret. Now I know otherwise."

"What are your views on magic Gaius?"

"I believe that it is an awesome force of nature," he answered carefully. "I believe that in the right hands it can be a force for good, but in the wrong hands it can be an agent of destruction and chaos."

"So you disagree with the program?"

Gaius studied him, seemingly weighing up his response.

"Yes. Although using magic in this way benefits Camelot greatly, treating people as machines is wrong," he said finally. "I do not know if you are aware, but I practised magic before the Purge. I made an oath to your father to give up magic in the wake of the ban. I kept my word, but in the early days I did manage to help some magic users escape the city. I wish I could have done more to help those brought here in the years since."

"It's not your fault. You're an old man and a physician. I'm the prince, and I cannot change my father's mind," Arthur assured him. "I made a promise though, and I'm determined to keep it."

"Do not do anything rash," Gaius warned him. "This is a complicated situation."

"I have no choice," Arthur spat. "I tried to convince my father to see reason. To do the right thing, but he won't listen. Merlin doesn't deserve to be executed."

"Merlin is the boy you found in the Queen Ygraine?"

"Yes," a small smile crossed Arthur's face at the thought of the boy. "He was kidnapped from his home in Essetir by Aredian. He was just fifteen. Once the program had him, they prepared him to be a power source and he's been in the ship ever since.

"Despite all that he's been through, he is so cheerful and sweet. He apologised in advance for causing strife between Father and I. He felt guilty at the very thought of it. He's just so lovely, he doesn't deserve any of this. It wasn't his fault that he was born with magic."

"That's impossible," gasped the physician.

"I thought that too," he nodded affably. "But Merlin insists that he was. He says that his mother always told him that he was special."

"You seem very inclined to trust him," Gaius said suspiciously. "You haven't known him for very long."

"I know," Arthur reached for the old man's hand. "But I'm not enchanted. Merlin said that he dreams of a dragon who tells him that the two of us are connected, that he has to protect me. I feel it too. There's a link between us, we were meant to meet, and I have to save him. I- Gaius? What is it?"

He'd just noticed the flabbergasted look on the old man's face.

"He dreams of a dragon, you say?" he asked.

"Yes, what of it?"

"A few months after your birth, the king rounded up the descendants of the Dragonlords. Men who commanded the great dragons of old," Gaius told him. "Most were executed, but one managed to escape. His name was Balinor. I smuggled him out of the city and sent him to live with my friend Hunith in Essetir. Uther sent knights in pursuit, and after almost a year, they discovered his whereabouts. Balinor was forced to flee, leaving Hunith behind.

"She sent me a letter months later, saying that they had fallen in love and that she had given birth to a son. She begged me to help Balinor if he was ever caught. He never was, but the last I heard, Hunith was raising her son alone."

"I don't understand," Arthur frowned. "How is this relevant?"

"After the dragons died out, the powers of the Dragonlords changed," Gaius explained. "They were able to call the souls of dragons back from the other side and converse with them. There was rumour that sometimes the dragons reached out instead, contacting the Dragonlords in order to impart wisdom and advice."

"So you think that Merlin is a Dragonlord?"

"I think Merlin is Balinor's son," the physician replied. "He was the only Dragonlord to escape the Purge. And I am aware that Aredian has a fondness for hunting Druids in the Forest of Essetir, which is not far from Hunith's village. It's not hard to believe that he could have taken her son."

"Gaius," Arthur squeezed the physician's hand. "I am sorry that this has happened to your friend. When everything is over, I will return Merlin to his mother."

"Arthur, there is nothing to be done. Merlin is to be executed in the morning. You cannot risk attempting to set him free," Gaius warned. "You will only anger the king further if you continue to fight him, and it could start another Purge. Better to bide your time and change things when you have the power. When you are king."

Arthur jerked back.

"How can you say that?" he demanded. "Hunith is- was- your friend and Merlin is her son. How can you just sit by and let him die?"

"It's a tragedy, I agree," Gaius tried to soothe him. "But I really do not see what can be done. I would help if there was a chance."

The prince considered him for a moment.

"There is something you can do," he decided. "Tell me honestly. Do you think that my father's hatred for magic goes beyond reason? Is his mind unsound?"

The physician stared at him in shock.

"I suppose an argument could be made to that effect," he stammered eventually. "Arthur, what are you planning?"

"Would you be prepared to swear to that in front of the council?" he ignored Gaius' question.

"If you asked me to, yes. But-"

"That will be all Gaius, thank you," he waved a hand dismissively. "I trust that I can count on your discretion?"

"Yes, of course. Our conversation will remain completely confidential," the old man bowed and left the room.

After that, Arthur had returned to his post at the window, watching as the execution platform was assembled in silent rage.

Now rifling though a chest of odds and ends, the prince came across a coil of rope and dashed to the window. Throwing it open, he stuck his head out to judge the height and work out if he would have enough rope to climb down.

Movement in the shadows across the courtyard caught his attention, and he glanced up in time to see Lancelot slip through the door closest to the passage to the dungeons. Arthur breathed a short sigh of relief. He knew he could count on his men.

Behind him, the door opened and he spun around, hiding the coil of rope behind his back. Morgana raised a delicate eyebrow as she took a seat at the table.

"You look like a child caught in the kitchens with chocolate smeared around your mouth," she remarked.

"I do not," Arthur scowled, dropping the rope on the floor next to his bed and leaning on the back of a chair. "What do you want?"

"I hear that you've been a naughty boy, and gotten yourself enchanted," she smiled wickedly.

"I'm not enchanted. And if you've only come here to gloat, then-"

The door opened again, and Morgana's maid slipped in carrying a tray with two glasses of deep red wine. Arthur felt a punch to the gut as he stared at her. For a while now, he'd harboured secret feelings for Guinevere, though he knew she was in love with Lancelot. But now, he felt only friendship. Merlin had completely re-written his heart.

"I'm not here to gloat Arthur," Morgana drew his attention back to her. There was a strange darkness in her eyes. "I'm here to find out if it's true. Do you really want to help sorcerers?"

"Of course I do," Arthur growled, frustrated. "What my father, Agravaine and the aether program are doing is wrong. My father's grudge has gone on long enough. It's time to end the bloodshed."

"I see," Morgana stood, pulled a phial out of her pocket and split the contents between the glasses. "Oh dear. I appear to have accidentally dropped my sleeping draft into the wine. We had better not drink it."

She opened the door and ushered Gwen out into the hallway before turning to him with a snarl contorting her lovely features.

"I just wanted to talk!" she raged. "I thought it might make you feel better, but if you're just going to be rude then fine. Sulk by yourself."

"Morgana-" he started, confused, but she slammed the door in his face.

"Honestly, he's such a pig headed idiot," he heard her say just outside the door. "Gentlemen, would you like a glass of wine? No sense in letting it go to waste. Don't worry, I won't report you. Think of it as a reward for having to put with him in there."

Arthur pressed his ear against the door, unable to believe his foster sister's gall. There was a muffled affirmative on the other side of the wood, and then she spoke again.

"Gwen, be a dear and bring that wine here."

"Morgana, you genius," he whispered. "I could kiss you."

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps move down the hall, Morgana telling Gwen to take the empty glasses to the kitchen and then join her in her chambers. One of the guards belched, and Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust. Stepping back, he pulled on a jacket and picked up the pack he'd readied earlier.

He moved back to door, and within ten minutes heard two thumps just outside.

Easing the door open, he slipped into the corridor. He hurried through the hallways, diving into alcoves and behind statues to avoid guards more than once.

Finally, he emerged into the courtyard. Slinking through the shadows beneath the walls, slipped past the two guards playing dice next to the gate and entered the dock. Hurrying through the rows of airships, he increased his pace as the Queen came into view. As the pride of the fleet, she was docked in the centre of the yard, and for the first time Arthur hated it. He wished that she was closer to the castle.

He rounded the corner just as Percival pulled up the folding steps. Gwaine was strapped firmly into his harness and was in the process of releasing the aft anchor.

"You made it!" he grinned. "We were worried."

Launching himself at the door, Arthur grabbed Percival's hand and pulled himself up into the cargo bay.

"Did Lancelot get Merlin out?" he panted.

"Yes. He used a smoke bomb to put the guards to sleep and stole the keys," Percival chuckled. "Our Lancelot has a devious streak, it seems."

"For which I'm very thankful," Arthur replied.

The ship started to float upwards, and the burly knight pulled on the rope, hauling Gwaine inside. As the rogue wiggled out of the harness and Percival grabbed his own, Arthur headed for the steps to engineering.

"I'll be up to the Bridge once I've checked on Merlin," he called over his shoulder. "Tell Leon not to use the thrusters. We haven't been discovered missing yet, so let the wind carry us until we're a few miles out. Less chance that we'll be noticed."

"Yes Sire!" Gwaine shouted after him, but he barely heard, his only thought being to check on Merlin.

He crashed into the capsule to see the sorcerer lying pale faced on the bed, Elyan tightening the strap across his waist. He spun around, locking eyes with Arthur desperately.

"Arthur, I'm sorry," he cried. "I couldn't stop them. There were palace guards, and they came by order of the king. They forced me off the ship while they took him out. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," he grasped the engineer's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll leave you to it," Elyan said, calming.

He stepped out, pulling a wrench from his tool belt as he went, and returned to the ventilation panel. Arthur took his place at Merlin's side, eyes drinking him in.

The boy was clearly shaken, but he took the prince's hand willingly, squeezing it warmly. The jacket had been taken, and there were rings of deep purple bruises around his biceps from the guards' rough handling. There were no other obvious marks from maltreatment, but Arthur couldn't be sure none had occurred.

"Merlin I- God, you must have been so frightened," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I never should have brought you back here. I knew he wouldn't listen, but I pushed and pushed until I infuriated him. It was my fault."

"No," Merlin rebutted. "You were just trying to do what you believe is right. I don't blame you. It was your father who had me arrested. You didn't have anything to do with it. And Lancelot told me you'd been locked in your rooms, so you didn't escape without punishment."

"If anything had happened to you, I would never have forgiven myself," Arthur reached out to stroke Merlin's hair.

"Well it didn't, so you can rest easy," Merlin turned into the caress. "How did you escape? The others said there were guards on your door."

"My foster sister, Morgana. I thought she'd come to gloat, but it turned out she wanted to help. She drugged the guards so I could sneak out," he explained. "No doubt she'll think up something humiliating for me to do to repay her."

"She drugged the guards?"

"She has nightmares and our physician, Gaius, gives her sleeping drafts. She brought some wine pretending she wanted to talk. Once she made sure I was serious about helping sorcerers, she drugged the wine and stormed out as if we had argued," the prince smiled. "She gave the glasses to the guards 'to save it from going to waste'."

"She must be very brave, to risk the king's wrath," Merlin gazed up at him with wide eyes.

"Brave is one word for it," Arthur snorted.

"What would you call it?"

"Defiant. She's always fighting my father. Especially on matters concerning magic," he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "I think she rather enjoys it."

"Well, either way we owe her a debt," Merlin smiled. "You should get to the Bridge. You need to take command."

"Leon can handle it," the prince tightened his grip on Merlin's hand. "I will stay here with you."

"Leon is more than competent, yes," the sorcerer squeezed his fingers. "But you are my captain Arthur. The Queen Ygraine's captain. She sings when you fly her. She loves you as I love you, and it's better when you sit in the captain's chair."

Arthur studied the boy's serious eyes for a moment.

"As my sorcerer commands."

He pressed a gentle kiss to Merlin's forehead, lingering for a long moment before striding out of the room. As he stepped onto the Bridge, Leon stood up to meet him.

"We've travelled quite far from the city already," he reported. "The wind is strong tonight. We're heading North East, and should be coming up parallel with the Valley within a couple of hours."

"Are we being followed?" Arthur strapped himself into the captain's chair.

"Not yet," Leon replied. "Percival's out on the hull. He checks in every few minutes."

"Right," he considered for a moment. "We'll leave the thrusters off for now. I want to maximise our chances of getting away unnoticed. Providing it takes them a bit longer to notice we've gone."

Conversation stopped in the room, the only sound the rustling of Gwaine's maps as he double checked their position and worked out a route to the Valley.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked eventually, watching Arthur carefully. "Today can't have been easy for you."

"I'm fine," he sighed. "It wasn't easy, you're right. But I am prepared to fight. This atrocity has to be stopped."

The intercom crackled, and Percival's voice came through, the wind roaring underneath it.

"I've lost sight of the city," he reported. "I still don't think we're being followed."

"Thank you," Arthur leaned into the microphone. "Come inside before you freeze."

A few minutes later, the burly knight joined them on the Bridge, a thick coat wrapped around him. It was odd to see him so covered up. He normally preferred to roll up his sleeves and expose his muscles. He went and sat close next to Gwaine, sharing his warmth.

They spent the next forty five minutes in tense silence, broken only by Percival's occasional offers to go back out onto the hull to see if they were being followed yet. Arthur refused each time. There was no point in the knight endangering his health, they were so far from Camelot now that they would appear only as a tiny dot of light with the thrusters on. No one from the city would be able to catch them. Still, it was better to be safe then sorry, just in case ships were already out searching.

Finally, Gwaine looked up from his maps.

"Sire, by my calculations we're directly to the West of the Valley," he said. "It would be fastest to get there if we go now."

"Very well."

Arthur reached for the steering levers. After adjusting them accordingly, he took a deep breath and grabbed the ignition lever. The ship lurched forward, then spun around and shot off into the darkness as Arthur set their heading.

The men dozed as the night wore on, but Arthur stayed awake, peering through the windscreen in constant fear that he'd spot the lights of pursuing ships at any moment. Lancelot wandered in a few times, providing snacks and a foul tasting draft designed to keep them alert.

Finally, there was a glimmer of light on the horizon before them, the sun rising over the trees covering the Valley. As soon as the light hit the ship, Arthur turned to Percival.

"It's time," he said. "Take Elyan and go run up our flag. Make it as big as possible."

Percival bowed and left the Bridge, and soon he and the engineer were clambering up the hull and rigging to fix a large white sheet to the balloon. They'd just returned to the cargo bay, reporting their success over the intercom, when two pirate airships rose above the forest.

Arthur took a deep breath and flicked the intercom over to the external speakers. As soon as the other ships were in range, he leaned forwards to speak.

"Please, we mean no harm. We seek refuge. We have fled Camelot after committing treason. We beg you for your aid."

He waited, sure that at any second they would be fired upon. But as the minutes ticked by, he allowed himself a shred of hope. If they weren't immediately firing, they must be considering helping.

"Follow us and we will guide you to a suitable dock," a tinny voice came from the speakers of the larger ship.

It came about and sailed away, back towards the centre of the Valley. Dutifully, Arthur followed, the second ship falling into place behind the Queen. There was no doubt that every single gun on the craft was aimed at them. As long as they weren't provoked, he was sure they wouldn't fire.

They came out over a large clearing, and Arthur could see a series of pipes embedded in the ground.

"Set down here," the same voice from before instructed.

Leon glanced at Arthur for confirmation and pulled the anchor levers. Leaving the rest of the landing procedure to his first mate, Arthur turned off the thrusters, grabbed his pack and left the Bridge. As he strode to engineering, he pulled his holster from the bag, thought better of it, dropped it back into his pack and stepped into the capsule.

"We're here," he smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

Merlin nodded, and Arthur released the strap across his waist. He pulled his pack from his shoulders as the sorcerer wriggled out from under the frame.

"There's a shirt and jacket in here for you," he said. "And some socks and boots. I think our feet are just about the same size."

Merlin took the bag with a smile and quickly dressed. The boots did fit him, mercifully. Together, they made their way to the cargo bay where Lancelot, Percival and Elyan were waiting.

"Elyan," he gave the engineer a nod. "It's time."

The engineer smiled and pulled a pin out of his pocket, stepping up to Merlin. Slipping his goggles over his eyes, he snapped the magnifying lenses down and reached for the sorcerer's arm. He fiddled for a moment, a loud click echoing around the bay.

The first cuff fell away revealing a band of deep pink scarring.

"Oh," Merlin blinked in shock. "I didn't- I suppose my magic couldn't heal it with the cuff constantly rubbing."

"I have some cream that will help it fade," Lancelot supplied kindly.

As soon as the second cuff clicked open, a wind sprang from nowhere and swirled around the cargo bay. Merlin sighed, a tenseness not previously noticed relaxing, a blinding smile lighting up his face.

"Thank you," he cried, flinging his arms around Elyan.

He let go of the engineer after a moment, then turned and jumped at Arthur. The prince held him tightly, breathing in the boy's distinctive scent of herbs, and something wild and raw. Something powerful.

"We're docked," Leon called, jumping down the steps from the ship's upper deck, Gwaine behind him.

"Right," Arthur pulled back and looked seriously at Merlin. "Stay back. Just until I call you. I don't want you hurt."

He walked over to the door and raised his hands to show that he was unarmed. Percival grasped the handle, and at the Prince's nod, threw open the door.

Arthur kicked the steps out, and walked calmly down, stopping on the last step. The pirates were gathered in a semi circle a few feet away, their guns pointing unwaveringly at his chest. He waited for them to make the first move.

"Why have you come here Arthur Pendragon?" a rugged blond man, obviously the leader, demanded.

"We seek sanctuary," he replied. "We have committed treason and need somewhere to hide while we plan our next move. We know that my father's forces will not think to look for us here."

"Treason? You?" the pirate scoffed. "You're the prince."

"Yet it is the truth," Arthur assured him. "We have rescued a sorcerer from the dungeons of Camelot, and intend to end the persecution of him and his kin."

"How can we believe that?" the man asked. "Where is this sorcerer?"

Arthur turned and met Merlin's eyes as he stood in the gloom of the cargo bay. Holding out his hand, he beckoned him forwards. Delicately, Merlin moved to his side, slipping his fingers into Arthur's and squinting slightly in the light.

As he turned back to the pirates, Arthur glimpsed movement in the tree line. He glanced over and saw a group of people in long, earth toned robes gathering. Druids.

"A few hours before the storm, the ship sustained damage. We lost all aether power and against regulations, I had my engineer open the control capsule. It is not allowed for someone who does not work for the aether program to open the capsule," he explained. "We expected to find some sort of engine. What we found instead, was Merlin.

"It turns out that the aether program is an excuse to torture and exploit magic users, and it must be stopped. My father, however, disagrees. He tried to execute Merlin, but I couldn't let that happen. His madness must be put to an end."

"If he's a sorcerer, prove it," the pirate challenged.

Merlin raised his free hand to his mouth, whispered something and then extended his fist. He uncurled his fingers, revealing a small flame flickering on his palm. With his youthful face and solemn eyes, he looked like some sort of fey creature. Arthur cast him a fond smile and turned back to their audience.

The blonde woman standing beside the leader narrowed her eyes and leaned in to whisper into his ear. He hissed something back, shaking his head. She gave him a smile, said something else and stepped back as he nodded with a resigned sigh.

"So you were telling the truth about the sorcerer," he smirked. "Just because we have an alliance with magic users doesn't mean we'll let you live. We'll give him sanctuary, but you- with you dead, we get the Queen."

"No!" Merlin swayed forward in his anger. "I won't let you hurt him, or his men. And you will never get the Queen. Not while I still draw breath."

The pirate's aim wavered as he turned to Merlin in surprise.

"You would defend him?" he asked. "A man who has sat and watched for years as your kind was persecuted?"

"He didn't know what was happening," Merlin cried. "And he grew up on tales of the evils of magic. He didn't know any better, but now he has seen the error of his ways. All men deserve a chance to make amends."

"Very well," the pirate lowered his gun, the others following his lead. "My name is Tristan, and whilst you stay in the Valley of the Fallen Kings, no pirate shall harm you. You have my word."

"Thank you," Arthur called, as Tristan lead his men away.

The woman lingered for a moment.

"You will have to sleep on your ship," she told them. "And provide food for yourselves. If you have need of anything, ask someone for Isolde, and they'll bring you to me."

"Again, thank you for your hospitality," Arthur gave a small bow.

Isolde raised an eyebrow, and turned to follow the men.

Arthur relaxed, and turned to face the others as they came down the steps to meet him.

"I told you it would work," Gwaine grinned insolently.

"Thanks to Merlin," Leon rolled his eyes. "If it weren't for him, they would have killed us."

"You were brilliant," Arthur drew Merlin closer, smiling warmly.

A throat cleared behind them, and the prince turned to see a small group of Druids gathered before the steps. They were stood eyeing the company with interest, though a couple of them shifted nervously as his eyes scanned over them. An elder, with grizzled grey hair stepped forward.

"Greetings, Arthur Pendragon," he hailed. "Welcome to the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"Thank you," he nodded in respect.

The elder's eyes turned to Merlin.

"My name is Iseldir," he said gravely. "It is an honour to meet you Emrys."

"Emrys?" Merlin startled. "That's my- how do you know my name?"

"Your name?" Arthur muttered.

"Surname," he replied.

"It is the name you are known by to the Druids," Iseldir interjected.

"I don't understand," Merlin stepped forward, clutching Arthur's hand tighter. "How can the Druids know me? I've never spoken to any Druids."

"You need not have spoken to a Druid for us to know you," the elder smiled kindly. "We have long told tales of you."

"Told tales of me?" Merlin looked absolutely flabbergasted.

"You are destined for many great things, Emrys. Things you cannot yet imagine."

"So there was a reason I was born like this?" hope lit up wide blue eyes.

"Yes," Iseldir gave a comforting smile. "join us for breakfast, and I shall tell you what I can."

Merlin glanced at Arthur for assurance. He nodded, but the sorcerer still seemed unsure.

"Prince Arthur and your companions may join us, if they like?" the elder offered.

"Please?" Merlin asked quietly, with hope in his eyes.

The Prince turned to the elder.

"Please, that would be very kind," he said.

Iseldir waited as they folded the stairs back up into the cargo bay and locked the door, before turning and leading them into the trees.

–

Arthur sighed as he sank onto the bed in his cabin. The past day felt as though it had lasted a lifetime, he was so tired.

Merlin was still with the Druids. After Iseldir had told him of the prophecies surrounding him, they'd progressed to discussing magic. They had talked of the differences between the Old Religion and the magic of the modern world, and eventually progressed to some small demonstrations of magic. Merlin had created a dragon out of the sparks from the fire, a unicorn from the smoke, and a blue butterfly from thin air. The joy on his face, however was far more beautiful than his display of magic.

Arthur had finally decided to leave him to it. He deserved some time with his people, he couldn't monopolise all of the sorcerer's time. He spent some time talking to Leon and Percival, while Gwaine chatted up some of the Druid girls, studiously ignoring Percival's mildly annoyed stare. Lancelot meanwhile, had practically pounced on the Druid healer, asking about her methods.

The Prince decided to retire mid afternoon, he needed the rest. As he laid back, his mind drifted back to that morning and the time spent around the Druids' camp fire.

The magic users lived apart from the pirates, in a small clearing filled with tents. There was one large fire pit in the centre of the camp, a woman stirring a large pot of something, and a group of children sitting by her feet, their mouths and fingers stained red and purple with berry juice.

Iseldir invited them to sit down, and handed them bowls of steaming porridge as the woman portioned them out. One of the children brought over a basket of berries for the men to share. They tucked in heartily, hungry after the night's events.

Once the entire camp had come and gone, all the the porridge consumed and the bowls taken to clean by a group of children, Iseldir folded his hands in his lap and leaned forwards slightly to address Merlin.

"Our legends, Emrys, are hundreds of years old," he started.

"Please call me Merlin," the boy interjected. "It's my name."

"As you wish," Iseldir continued. "It is widely known that you are the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Many believe you to be born of magic itself, and hail you as the king of all magic users."

"King?" Merlin stared at him aghast. "I'm no king. I don't know how to be one."

"It is only a belief," Iseldir soothed. "It is not written. What has been written though, is that one day you will unite the powers of the old and new magics."

"Is that even possible?"

"For you it is," the Druid bowed his head. "You have the ability to harness both to your will. You can bring peace between the two."

There was a heavy silence, as they all tried to take in just how powerful Merlin had the potential to be, how influential among his kin.

"There is more," Iseldir ventured eventually.

"More?" Merlin sounded faint.

"Yes Em- Merlin. Much is written about you."

"Go on," Merlin visibly steeled himself.

"It has been foretold that together, you and Prince Arthur shall unite the lands of Albion," Iseldir told them. "The two of you are bound by destiny. Two sides of the same coin."

"That's what the dragon said," the sorcerer whispered.

"Dragon?"

"I dream of him," he explained. "He comes sometimes. Tells me to have faith, that I will be released from the capsule, and that I must protect Arthur. I suppose he's been right so far."

"To dream of a dragon means that you must be descended from the Dragonlords of old," Iseldir stared at Merlin with awe.

"That's what Gaius thinks," Arthur spoke up. "I spoke to him about you, and the dragon came up. He told me that in the beginning days of the Purge, he helped a Dragonlord escape from Camelot and sent him to live with a woman named Hunith in Essetir. That's your mother's name, isn't it?"

"Yes," Merlin looked faint.

"Apparently the Dragonlord, Balinor, had to flee, but your mother wrote to Gaius saying that she had a son," Arthur slipped his arm around Merlin. "He was never recaptured, but I cannot say for certain that he is alive. Perhaps we could try to find him, once we have freed magic. If that is your wish?"

"I'd like that, I think," the sorcerer nodded, looking very young and vulnerable all of a sudden. "I'd want to find my mother first, though."

"Of course," Arthur squeezed him. "It will be our first order of business."

Merlin nodded, and turned back to the watching Druid.

"How are Arthur and I supposed to unite Albion?" he asked. "What do we have to do?"

"That, Merlin I cannot tell you," Iseldir shook his head. "Your path will be revealed to you in time."

"Is there nothing more you can tell me?"

"I am afraid not," Iseldir replied.

Merlin sagged, clearly feeling the weight of what he'd been told.

"Perhaps we should talk about something else?" Arthur suggested.

"A very good idea," Iseldir smiled. "Perhaps we could share our knowledge of magic? I'm sure that there is much we can learn from each other."

Merlin perked up at that, and launched into an animated discussion.

–

Back in his cabin, Arthur drifted off into a fitful sleep. He woke just as the sun was setting, and wandered down to the galley in search of some dinner.

After a cheese and ham sandwich, he returned to his cabin. Slumping back onto the bed, he dropped his head into his hands. Tomorrow he would have to gather the men to plan their next move. He was dreading the upcoming fight, no matter how strong and determined he pretended to be.

There was a tap on the door, and when he turned to look, Merlin's head was poking around the frame.

"I was wondering where I should sleep," he frowned as he spotted the look on Arthur's face. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just worried," the prince answered. "There's a fight ahead, and I'm dreading my next move."

The sorcerer closed the door, and hurried to him, kneeling at his feet.

"Whatever you choose to do, I will be at your side," he swore. "You are a good man, Arthur. I believe in you and the king that you will become."

Arthur gazed down at his earnest face, and marvelled.

"What have I done Merlin, to deserve you?"

The smile that spread across the sorcerer's face was unlike any he'd yet seen. It was so radiant that he could not stop himself from curling a hand around the back of Merlin's slim neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

It was chaste, at first, but as the plump lips pillowed against his began to move, Arthur couldn't resist a taste. Merlin's own lips parted at the touch of the prince's tongue, and he gave a soft moan. As the kiss grew more heated, he climbed into Arthur's lap, winding his arms around strong shoulders and clinging tightly.

With a shuddering gasp the prince pulled back, immediately missing the press of that delicious mouth against his own.

"Merlin, this..."

"Arthur I know where this leads," the sorcerer smiled gently. "I'm not naïve. I've heard the stories they tell in the Common Room. And I once accidentally caught a glimpse of Gwaine and Percival."

"That is not an image I need Merlin," Arthur butted in, face twisting in disgust.

"Believe me, it wasn't something I wanted to see either," the sorcerer replied wryly. "The point is, I'm not some innocent damsel. I know where we're heading. I know that one day you will be king, and you'll need to take a queen and have children, but I love you. And I would rather have you for a short time, than not at all."

Arthur studied him for a moment, assessing how much of what he said was the truth. Then with a smile, he leaned in for another kiss, his hands reaching for the hem of Merlin's shirt.

–

The sun was shining brightly around the edges of the curtains as Arthur awoke. Forcing his eyes open, he took in the sight of Merlin lying next to him, still deeply asleep. He was absolutely beautiful, the hazy light in the cabin giving him an angelic countenance.

Smiling slightly, Arthur stayed where he was, content just to watch his lover sleep.

"I love you," he whispered, knowing it was true.

Merlin stirred, curling closer and sighing.

"I love you A'thur."

The unconscious response touched the prince, warming him.

It was quite some time before the sorcerer came round, stretching luxuriously, before relaxing and opening his deep blue eyes. He gazed back at Arthur for several long moments, before giving a gentle smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning," he reached over and trailed his fingers across the soft skin of Merlin's upper arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Brilliant," his lover's eyes twinkled. "Better than I can ever remember feeling."

"Sure you're not too sore?" Arthur asked, wanting to be certain.

Merlin looked thoughtful, his dark brows drawing together.

"No, I feel fine," he answered after a moment. "I'd thought that there would be some discomfort, but there isn't any. I suppose my magic healed me."

His plump bottom lip pushed out in a pout.

"I'm disappointed, strangely. I wanted to feel you for a little while longer."

"Feel me?" Arthur smirked. "I'll give you something to feel!"

He gave a playful growl, grabbing his lover and flipping him over, Merlin's giggles ringing in his ears.

–

It was a couple of hours later that they emerged, washed and dressed but still glowing and relaxed in the aftermath of completion. They stepped outside, finding the rest of their companions sitting around a small fire at the edge of the clearing, far from the docked airships.

"Ah, there they are!" Gwaine smirked wickedly. "Care for some lunch Sire? Merlin?"

"Shut up," the prince rolled his eyes and flopped down onto a fallen log.

Merlin sank down next to him, close enough for their knees to brush. He accepted two bowls of soup from Leon, passing one to Arthur, and then turned a cheeky grin on Gwaine.

"I don't think you're one to talk. Not with all you get up to with Percival," he announced cheerily.

Instantly, Percival began to choke on his soup and a grinning Elyan pounded him on the back. Gwaine returned Merlin's grin unrepentantly.

"Aye, I reckon you're right," he replied, then paused before continuing. "Still, you must have been peeking to know what we do."

A faint blush rose on Merlin's cheeks.

"Ha!" the knight crowed. "I knew there was a reason I liked you Merlin."

"It was an accident," the sorcerer protested. "I swear. I know you won't care Gwaine, but I'm so sorry Percival."

"It's fine," the giant man coughed.

Arthur chuckled and tucked into his soup. Cooking was not Leon's forte, but it was tasty enough, if a little salty. And it was filling, which his stomach was thankful for.

Next to him, Merlin hummed, scraping his bowl. Clearly, the prince was not the only hungry one.

Finally, they had all finished eating, and Elyan had settled back down after washing the pots. It was Leon who raised the subject.

"Arthur? We need to talk."

The prince looked up from where he was tracing the lines on Merlin's palm with his fingers.

"I know," he replied.

Merlin threaded their fingers together, squeezing his hand in support.

"We need a plan if we are to return to Camelot and free the sorcerers from the aether program," his first mate continued.

"Freeing the sorcerers isn't going to be enough," Elyan shook his head. "The king would just replace them with others. We need to shut down the program altogether."

"Only the king has the power to do that," Gwaine pointed out. "And we all know that he won't."

There was silence for a moment as they thought over the problem. Arthur shifted, uneasy. He knew what the next move was to be, but now the moment was upon him, it caused a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Every moment it felt more like a betrayal.

Merlin shifted closer, his body a warm, solid presence against him.

"Whatever path you choose, I will walk by your side," he whispered. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Arthur leaned into him, taking sorely needed comfort.

"Before we left Camelot," he started. "I spoke with Gaius. He admitted that my father's hatred of magic is beyond reason. He needs only to state a diagnosis of madness before the Council for them to vote to remove my father from power."

The knights stared at him, wide eyed. Arthur, however, stared determinedly into the fire.

"That's rather...drastic sire," Lancelot frowned. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"It's the only option I see open to us," he replied. "With a vote of no confidence from the council, I can assume my place as regent and change the law."

"And your father?" the medic pressed.

"I will have Gaius treat his ailment to the best of his abilities," Arthur could barely meet Lancelot's eyes. "He'll likely have to stay in his chambers for the rest of his life."

Leon shifted and cleared his throat.

"If that is truly what you wish to do," he glanced around at the others. "Then we are with you."

The prince nodded awkwardly, and glanced at Merlin, finding his eyes fixed firmly upon him. The deep blue pools were both sympathetic and supportive. The unwavering faith he could see in his lover spurred him on.

"As I said, it's our only option," is all he said.

"In that case," Percival leaned forward, clasping his hands in his lap. "We need a plan to get back into the castle."

"Well, one thing's certain, we can't use the Queen," Gwaine supplied. "We'll be seen miles off and shot down. Seeing as we're traitors and all."

Arthur glanced across at them, noting the hand Gwaine had wrapped around Percival's knee. It was in moments like these that he could truly see the strength of their relationship. No matter how big of a flirt Gwaine was, he always gravitated back towards. Arthur rather thought they didn't even know they were touching.

"The king would never allow that," Leon disagreed. "Not with Arthur on board."

The prince wasn't so sure about that. He'd already committed a terrible betrayal in his father's eyes. He probably wished he didn't have a son, especially not one born from magic.

"Whether he would or wouldn't is irrelevant," he cut in. "The Queen is too conspicuous. Stealth would be a better course. If we set off walking tomorrow morning, we should reach Camelot just before nightfall. There's a cave we could camp in overnight, and sneak into the castle at sunrise. My father has a council meeting later in the morning. We should make our move then."

"That sounds fair, but how will we get into the castle?" Elyan asked.

"Through the crypts. There are tunnels beneath the castle that lead through them," Arthur explained. "You can unlock the gates, can't you Elyan?"

"I suppose, yes," the engineer nodded.

"Or I could," Merlin piped up.

Arthur gave him a fond smile.

"So that's it then," Lancelot muttered. "Walk to Camelot, break into the castle, get to the council chambers...and then what?"

"Play it by ear, I suppose," Arthur shrugged. "This is our only shot. Either we succeed, or we don't."

What would happen if they failed went unspoken. If they didn't succeed, they would all die, Arthur excepted. Though, with a glance at Merlin, he knew he would not out live him for long. Already he knew he did not want to live without him.

The sun was hanging low in the sky when they began to move. It was Percival's turn to cook, and Gwaine stayed by the fire to torment him. Lancelot said something about packing medical supplies, and Elyan went to clean his gun.

Arthur glanced at the path the pirates had taken the day before, an idea forming in his mind. If he was to be a better King than his father, he might as well start now.

He stood up and wandered into the tree line. Merlin, who was still holding onto his hand, kept pace with him.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"I want to speak to Tristan," Arthur answered, pulling him closer.

Merlin hummed, tipping his head back to bathe in the sunlight filtering through the leaves, swinging their joined hands between them. His skin shone in the light, and he looked so gorgeous that Arthur stopped and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

"It seems Isolde was right!" a voice cut across them and they sprang apart. "Prince Arthur does have feelings for a sorcerer."

Merlin blushed, ducking his head.

"Oh look," he pointed. "Bluebells."

He stepped off the path and crouched by the patch of flowers, leaving the two men alone on the trail. Arthur twitched, wishing he was still beside him. He needed the support Merlin's presence gave.

"So Arthur Pendragon," Tristan gave him a hard look. "Where were you sneaking off to?"

"I wasn't snea-" Arthur started indignantly, then stopped and sighed. "I was looking for you."

"Well you've found me," Tristan's hand dropped to his gun. "What do you want?"

"To thank you," he looked the pirate straight in the eye. "You have granted sanctuary to my men and I. If it were the other way around, and you had come to Camelot for aid, my father would have had you all killed. You have been most generous, so thank you."

Tristan stared at him in shocked suspicion.

"We are leaving at sunrise," Arthur continued. "If our mission is successful, I will be in a position to offer you a truce. I think that it would be beneficial for you."

"What kind of truce?" the pirate crossed his arms.

"I will revoke the order to destroy pirate ships on sight," the Prince mirrored the stance. "In return, you will stop all raids on towns and villages."

"And how do we survive of we can no longer acquire supplies?"

"How do the people in the villages survive if you steal all of their supplies?" Arthur countered. "Besides, I know that raiding is not your only means of survival. We both know that your primary income stems from smuggling. I'm not condoning it, because the tax laws protect the people of this country, but I can't stop you if I don't catch you."

A smile tugged at the corners of Tristan's mouth.

"It seems I may have misjudged you," he held out a hand. "Very well. Truce. But be warned, if you do not hold up your end of the bargain, we will not hold up ours."

"The order will be revoked by the end of the week, you have my word," they shook on it. "Assuming I'm still alive."

Tristan gave him a cordial nod, and walked away.

"See? I told you that you'd be a good king."

Arthur turned to see Merlin smiling at him.

"I thought you were busy with the flowers, you little sneak!" he tugged the sorcerer against his chest.

"I have good hearing," Merlin shrugged, his own arms wrapping around the Prince's neck. "That was a good thing you just did. A step towards peace in Camelot. I'm proud of you Arthur. You, and your good heart."

Arthur leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips in thanks.

"We should be getting back," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together. "Dinner will be ready soon. And I still have to pack our supplies."

"We should probably get an early night too," Merlin slapped Arthur's shoulder as he leered. "To sleep! There's a long day ahead of us."

"Yes," he sighed. "There is."

–

The next day was slow going. They'd left at dawn, locking the Queen behind them. She was useless to the pirates without Merlin, but there were still personal effects inside, things they couldn't carry.

They spent the morning travelling through the Valley, the trees providing plenty of cover from any eyes in the sky. But, after a brief lunch on the edge of the forest, they ventured out onto open ground.

They moved as quickly as they could, though they had to stop often for Merlin to rest. Unlike the knights who had physical training every few days, the sorcerer wasn't used to walking. Every now and then, they had to take cover in bushes and below outcroppings to hide from airships bearing the Pendragon crest.

Eventually they made it to the woods surrounding the city, and reached the cave just as the sun sank below the horizon.

After lighting some lanterns and eating a meal of meat, bread and cheese, they spread out their blankets and settled down. Arthur held Merlin close, burying his nose in his lover's soft dark hair.

Last night, potentially the last they would ever spend in a bed, they'd clutched each other tight. The prince had been thorough in his explorations as the evening wore on, carefully massaging his lover's muscles and kissing every inch of silky skin. Merlin had moaned and writhed, brought to a gentle and fulfilling climax under Arthur's ministrations. His gentle hands and lips had soon returned the favour.

Tonight, there was no room for such exploits. Though from the sound of shifting blankets, the location and potential audience wasn't stopping Gwaine and Percival. Not that that was surprising.

Sighing, Arthur pressed his lips against the back of Merlin's neck, enjoying his scent and the warmth of his body.

"Are you worried about tomorrow?" Merlin whispered.

"A little," Arthur replied. "Not about getting into the castle. That part is simple. It's what I'm going to do to my father. He will never forgive me for this. You say that I am a good man, but I don't feel very good."

His lover rolled over, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said. "If you truly feel that this is a betrayal, then don't follow through."

"But what about you and your kin? I have to save you."

"We can wait. Change things when you are king," Merlin nuzzled their noses together. "You have to follow your heart."

"My heart says that I love you," Arthur pecked Merlin on the lips. "And that I have to save you all."

He leaned in, pressing his mouth to his lover's again, deepening the kiss. They stayed together for a long while, Arthur's hands smoothing down Merlin's back.

A groan sounded from across the cave, and the pair broke apart, Arthur giving a frustrated sigh.

"Cut it out, you two," Leon grumbled.

The prince smothered a snort and rolled onto his back. Merlin snuggled close, laying his head on Arthur's chest. Tucking the blanket closer around them, he wrapped his arms around his lover, and tried to fall asleep.

–

Sneaking into the castle the next morning was, as predicted, easy. They left the cave at sunrise and hid in the bushes at the edge of the forest waiting for a changing of the guard. In the few seconds that no one stood on the wall above, they dashed for the gate that would let them enter the tunnels.

Every gate and locked door sprang open in the face of Merlin's magic, and soon they were in the castle proper. They hurried through the corridors, peeking around corners and diving into alcoves to avoid detection. Finally, they reached an abandoned study down the hall from the Council Chambers, and locked themselves inside with a sigh of relief.

Safe. For now.

The knights took turns guarding the doors, while Arthur slumped in a chair, deep in thought. Merlin stood next to him, stroking his hair.

After a while, the sorcerer opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur cut across him.

"Don't. I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it."

"And just what, exactly, was I going to say?" Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"That I don't have to do this if I don't want to," he reached for his lover's free hand. "I am resolved. This has to be done, and I am ready to do it."

Merlin's sharp eyes studied him for a moment.

"Very well," he conceded.

Silence fell upon the room again, until the sound of footsteps outside filtered through the door. The king, Lady Morgana, and the councillors all heading for their meeting.

Arthur waited a short while, wanting to make sure that everyone had arrived and settled down. He couldn't just barge in before they had all sat down. It would just cause chaos.

Finally, he signalled to the others and led the way down the hall. Before the guards could realise what was happening, Arthur strode through the doors, Merlin at his shoulder and his knights at his back. He stopped at the end of the table, gazing across at his father, the men watching the guards for signs of action.

"Arthur!" Uther's face lit up in relief. "Where have you been? I've had men out looking for you. I'm so glad that you've seen sense and returned. We'll execute the sorcerer at dawn, and put this nasty business behind us."

"I am afraid that will not be happening Father," Arthur drew himself up to his full height.

Uther frowned and leaned back in his chair, eyeing his son warily.

"I have not come to apologise, or to present a sorcerer for execution," he continued.

"Then why have you come?" Uther's eyes narrowed in anger.

"I have come to take my place as regent and rule in your stead," Arthur tried to keep his voice as calm and steady as possible.

"How dare you?" Uther roared, leaping to his feet, his face white with fury.

Around the room, the guards took a few threatening steps forward, halting only when the knights raised their guns. Arthur himself dropped his hand to his holster, the comforting weight of Excalibur pressing close against his thigh.

"I am the king! How dare you challenge me?"

Arthur refused to flinch, instead raising his chin in a show of stubborn pride.

"I have reason to believe that you are suffering from a mental affliction," he stated. "Gaius has confirmed it."

Uther turned on Gaius, the old man sitting frozen in fear.

"Physician! Explain yourself," he demanded.

Gaius took a peek at Arthur, receiving a reassuring look in return, before turning to the king.

"Prince Arthur asked me if your views on magic went beyond reason" he answered. "I told him that yes, I do believe that your fear had become a kind of madness. It is my belief that your mind is unsound, My Lord."

A frisson went through the council, a series of loaded glances and barely-there mutters. Arthur felt a spark of hope and confidence. The councillors were doubting the king's sanity, and Uther's behaviour was pushing them closer to a vote of no confidence.

His father stepped out from behind the table, storming towards Merlin who stood his ground, though he clearly wanted to flinch closer to Arthur.

"You!" he snarled. "This is all you. You have enchanted them."

"No," the sorcerer shook his head. "Arthur is a good man, and follows his heart. His actions are a response to your prejudice."

"No, you are evil," Uther spat. "You are trying to destroy the kingdom. That's all creatures like you want to do."

"Arthur and Gaius are right."

The voice which rang out through the room was softly lilted and stopped Uther in his tracks. He turned to stare at his ward in disbelief.

"What did you say?" he asked, dangerously quiet.

"You are quite mad," Morgana rose and stalked down the table opposite the king. "Once magic is mentioned you no longer listen. You would torture, or execute, anyone suspected of the craft. Even I, your own daughter."

All eyes swivelled to the regal young woman. Morgana's eyes blazed as she glared at the king, her beautiful features twisted in hate.

"Don't look so surprised Father," she spat. "I've known for quite a while. You sent Gorlois away to war and bedded my mother in his absence. And then you disowned me in order to protect your reputation."

"That's not true," Uther spluttered. "Your father was my friend. He thought you were his, and I did not wish to spoil his happiness. By the time he died, you loved him so much that I could not bear to taint your memories of him. Or your opinion of me."

"You were ashamed of your actions. And of me," Morgana accused.

Uther tried to protest, but she carried on, shouting over him.

"Tell me, did my mother have magic? Is that why she died?" she asked. "I know my sister does. I know I do."

"No," the king's head shook wildly. "You can't have magic. It's not true."

"Your sister?" Arthur couldn't help but ask, feeling lost in the face of Morgana's revelations.

"Morgause," she replied, offhand. "We share a mother. She was almost caught by Father once, but she escaped to Essetir. She found shelter in King Cenred's court, but she visits me often. She taught me to control my powers."

Uther stumbled back, his shoulders slumping.

"It's not true," he mumbled over and over. "It can't be true."

"You are a monster Uther Pendragon," a hungry look crossed Morgana's face as she stepped forward. "You have blood on your hands, and it will never wash off. It is time for your reign to end, and my people to have their revenge."

Before anyone could react, she drew a dagger from her sleeve and threw it. Her eyes flashed gold and the blade became a blur as it flew across the room, sinking deep into Uther's chest.

The king's eyes widened, and he collapsed with a breathless groan.

"Father!" Arthur cried in horror, taking a step forward.

Merlin dropped to his knees at the king's side, his hands pressing on the wound as he frantically muttered spells. Gaius struggled to his feet, shuffling over as fast as he could. The guards and knights all levelled their guns on the witch.

"Morgana what have you done?" Arthur whispered, his fingers tightening around the grip of Excalibur.

"I have liberated the country from the grip of a tyrant," she answered calmly. "And now I am ready to assume the throne."

"But Morgana, I am the legal heir," the prince pointed out. "You witnessed the ceremony yourself."

"I am Uther's elder child," her eyes narrowed coldly. "The throne is rightfully mine. I'm sure you understand. Besides, I have magic. I will be able to unite the people of Camelot much more easily than you."

"No," Arthur shook his head. "The throne is mine by law. As for uniting the people, I have Merlin to advise me."

"If you will not stand aside," his sister squared up to him. "Then I shall make you."

He brought his revolver up to point at her head, but Morgana only laughed in response. Her hand flicked, and as her eyes turned gold, the dagger rose from the ground next to Uther and pressed against Arthur's throat. He leaned back, but it followed his movement.

"Goodbye dear brother."

"No!" Merlin yelled behind him.

Morgana's eyes widened and a brief look of surprise flitted across her face, before she flew backwards. With a sickening thud, she crashed into the wall and slumped motionless on the floor. If he couldn't see her breathing, Arthur would have thought the impact had killed her.

"Elyan do you still have Merlin's suppression cuffs?" he asked quietly, feeling numb.

"I do," the engineer replied.

"Cuff her," he ordered. "Then take her to her chambers. She is to remain there until I decide what to do with her. Make sure there are no weapons she can get her hands on."

Elyan snapped the cuffs around Morgana's wrists and stepped back as two guards gathered her up, before leading the way out of the Council chambers.

Arthur rushed to his father's side, sinking to his knees next to Merlin. As he realised that his lover and Gaius had stopped working on the king, his heart shattered.

"I'm sorry Arthur," the physician said gravely. "There was nothing we could do. I suspect that the blade was poisoned, or more likely, cursed. The king is dead."

There was a heavy silence in the room, everyone digesting the events that had just taken place. Finally Arthur stood, Merlin scrambling to his feet beside him, hovering close but not touching. The prince motioned some of the remaining guards forward.

"Bear my father's body to his chambers," he commanded. "Remain there at Gaius' disposal as he makes the preparations."

The men bowed, lifting the king's body carefully and following Gaius out. Lancelot squeezed Arthur's shoulder comfortingly and went after them.

Clasping his lover's shoulder to guide him out of the room, Arthur spotted his uncle lurking in the shadows in the corner. He stopped and drew Merlin's attention to the man.

"Is he the one who authorised your inclusion in the aether program?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," the sorcerer replied.

"Seize him," Arthur pointed. Leon and Percival jumped into action.

"Sire," Agravaine was shocked. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Lord Agravaine, you are under arrest for the torture of citizens of Camelot," the prince said coldly. "You are to be detained in the dungeons until your trial."

He jerked his head, and the knights hauled the protesting lord out of the room. Arthur ignored the shouts echoing down the corridor, and focused instead on leading Merlin to his chambers.

Inside, Arthur sank down into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. Merlin headed over to the basin, pumping water out of the tap and washing the blood off his hands. When he'd finished, he walked over to hover beside the prince.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I tried to save him, I swear I did."

"I know," Arthur mumbled, dropping his hands. "I don't blame you."

He reached out and pulled Merlin into his lap, burying his face into the other's shoulder. The sorcerer's slender arms wound around him, holding him tight.

They stayed like that for a while, until Arthur sat back with a sigh.

"What happens now?" Merlin asked timidly.

"Gaius is preparing my father's body to be laid out," he replied tiredly. "Once he is ready, I will go to the Throne Room. I have until the morning to say my goodbyes in peace. His body will remain there during the day for the members of the court to pay their respects. The funeral will take place at sundown tomorrow."

"That soon?" his lover asked in surprise.

"He already has a spot in the crypt," Arthur replied. "It's traditional. Once he is laid to rest, preparations for my coronation will begin. I will be crowned within the week, and then I can work on changing the law."

Merlin nodded, his fingers coming up to stroke Arthur's cheek gently. The grieving prince stared at his lover, conflicted.

"I don't know what to do about Morgana," he silently asked for advice. "On the one hand, she's murdered my father without remorse. But on the other, I love her like a sister, which apparently she is. And she must have been so scared, living in Father's shadow, the threat of execution hanging over her head."

His lover's eyes went distant as he stared over Arthur's shoulder, clearly thinking.

"She cannot be pardoned, she committed a terrible crime," he said slowly. "But there was something in her eyes, a strange glint. Perhaps her fear drove her to madness, just as it did with your father. You should ask Gaius to examine her, and then make a decision based on his findings."

Arthur thought it through. The suggestion made sense, and he resolved to have it done. He gestured to a pile of paper, a pen and an ink pot at the other end of the table.

"You should write a letter to your mother. Tell her where you are, and invite her to Camelot. I'll send it out with a messenger," Merlin gazed at him with happiness in his eyes. "It will take a few days for a response, as he will have to go by train. It's better than sending a telegram, though. More personal, and she may think it a trap unless she sees your handwriting."

The writing utensils slid across the table into the sorcerer's outstretched hands, and soon the room was filled with the scratch of the nib on the rough surface of the paper. A serene smile spread across Merlin's face as he wrote, and Arthur relaxed as he admired it.

Finally, his lover set down the pen and leaned back into Arthur's chest as he waited for the ink to dry. The prince reached around him and grabbed a clean sheet of paper. Picking up the pen, he wrote out an order to desist in destroying pirate airships. It was best to uphold his bargain with Tristan now, as the next few days would be busy and he didn't want to forget.

As he scrawled his signature across the bottom of the page, Merlin folded his letter and reached for an envelope. He took the pen from Arthur's hand and printed his mother's name on the front.

Nudging his lover out of his lap, Arthur took both the letter and the order to the door. As he glanced up and down the corridor for someone to take them to the appropriate places, Gwen came barrelling around the corner, her eyes full of tears.

"Prince Arthur!" she cried. "Sire is it true? Did Morgana really- I mean, is she-?"

"Yes Guinevere, she did," he nodded.

"I am so sorry Arthur," tears were now streaming down Gwen's cheeks, her hands wringing together. "If there's anything I can do...?"

With a start, he remembered when her own father had died just four years ago. He had been executed at Uther's command, accused of committing treason and supplying a band of sorcerers with weapons. Arthur had felt awful about the affair, there had been no concrete proof that Tom was guilty. He'd offered his condolences and assured her that she would not lose her home, though she only earned a pittance.

Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder gently.

"Thank you Gwen. I am lucky to have a friend like you," she gave him a small smile. "There is an errand I need doing, if you don't mind."

She assured him that it would be no trouble, and so he sent her off, first to the shipyard and the master of the guards, and then to the post office.

Back inside his room with the door securely shut, he sank back into Merlin's comforting arms.

–

Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. Arthur turned from the window where he'd been watching the townsfolk gather to hold vigil, and strode across to open it. Lancelot gazed back at him sorrowfully.

"He's ready for you sire."

The knight stepped aside as the prince moved off down the hall, Merlin following behind.

Gaius was waiting outside the Throne Room, his head bowed. Arthur stopped next to him and reached out to clasp his shoulder.

"Thank you for everything," he murmured. "I have another favour to ask, though."

"Anything," the physician replied.

"I wish for you to examine Morgana. I need to know if she, like my father, has succumbed to madness."

His request given, he stepped through the doorway and walked with heavy steps towards his father's body. Behind him, he vaguely heard Gaius mention something to Merlin about leaving him to grieve, before the doors shut with an echoing thud.

Uther looked as regal in death as he did in life. He was dressed in his finest clothes, and a cloak of red spread out below him, the golden Pendragon crest upon his shoulder. The crown rested upon his brow, his hands folded across his coronation sword.

To see his father so still and pale dealt a great blow to Arthur's heart. For the first time, he realised that he would never again speak with him, eat with him, laugh with him. His father was gone.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for this to happen."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he fell to his knees. With trembling hands he clasped Uther's arm and stroked his cheek, his body heaving with great sobs.

He cried until he could cry no more. The room was dimmer now, the sun having moved on in the sky. Arthur dried his face and blew his nose, then fetched a cup of water from the pitcher left at the side of the room. He settled back down beside his father and began to talk.

He said all the things he'd never been able to say before. He told his father how much he loved him, and how he would miss him. He apologised for the argument that had become their last conversation. He talked of his plans for Camelot once he had been crowned.

For a while, he fell silent, contemplating his next words.

Then, he spoke of Merlin. The instant pull he'd felt for the other, the love that had grown quickly between them, the prophecy that told of them and the great things they would achieve. He confided his ideas of how they could begin, and his excitement at the future unfolding before him.

The sky grew dark, and Arthur quietened. He held a silent vigil by his father's side, almost tangibly feeling the spirit of the people outside as they lit their lanterns and stood throughout the night in respect to their fallen king.

As the long hours of the night drew on, Arthur kept his weary eyes on his father's face. Studying each line and shadow, he committed it to memory.

The weak light of the dawn began to filter through the windows and Arthur rose to his feet.

"Goodbye Father," he stroked the man's brow for the final time. "I love you and will miss you. May your spirit find Mother's, and be at peace."

He turned away, drying his renewed tears and taking a moment to compose himself. His heart may still be broken, but he was soon to be king, and must appear strong for his people.

Opening the doors, his eyes instantly landed on a figure curled up on the floor. Merlin looked up at him with wide eyes, then scrambled to his feet, looking uncertain.

"Have you been here all night Merlin?" he asked.

"I didn't want to leave you. I didn't want you to feel alone."

He gave his lover a fond smile, took his arm and guided him towards the stairs.

Back in the prince's chambers, they had a light breakfast and then curled up in bed to rest. Upon waking, Arthur shed some more tears in the comfort of Merlin's arms before preparing for the funeral.

In the Throne Room, Uther's body had been transferred to a deep mahogany coffin, and Arthur stood stoically to the side as Geoffrey of Monmouth spoke the funeral prayer. Merlin stayed close, but did not try to touch him. He was thankful that his lover understood that he could not appear weak before the assembled court.

Arthur gave the eulogy, and then Uther's personal guard stepped forward. Lifting the coffin onto their shoulders, they led the way out of the room, Arthur and the rest of the court behind them. The procession crossed the courtyard and moved through the town to the crypt, passing through the silent masses gathered to say goodbye.

Upon arrival, Uther's coffin was lowered into the waiting sarcophagus, and Geoffrey took his place at the head. Blessings were said and Arthur stepped forwards to lay a single rose on the smooth wooden lid. He murmured a prayer, and the assembly repeated it as the guards lifted the marble lid into place. It settled with a quiet thud, and the ceremony was over.

Several members of the court stepped forward to lay wreaths around the sarcophagus before leaving, and a servant extinguished the lanterns, leaving only a tall candle to light the area. It would be left to burn down, a symbol of Uther's reign and its end.

Finally alone, Arthur slumped with exhaustion. Merlin's arms wrapped tightly around him, giving him the comfort and support he'd so needed but could not be allowed. They held vigil for a long while, until Arthur straightened and led the way back to the palace. He wanted simply to go to bed and put this trying day behind him.

–

Over the next few days the palace became a hive of activity.

Arthur had an appointment with the royal tailor to be measured for his coronation clothes. He also ordered a full wardrobe for Merlin, and laughed himself silly at the frustration on the tailor's face caused by Merlin's inability to stay still for more than a minute.

Gaius' assessment of Morgana's mental state landed on his desk the afternoon after the funeral, and with a heavy heart, Arthur sat down to read it. The physician confirmed his fear that his sister had indeed been driven to madness by fear. He stated that he had prescribed a calming draft to be administered daily to keep her docile, but that there was nothing more he could do.

Arthur resolved always to confront and understand his fears. He did not want to end up like his father or sister.

He went to visit Morgana, arriving just as Gwen cleared away the lunch dishes. The servant shot him a sorrowful smile, and left them alone.

Despite the lethargy brought about by her medication, his sister shot him a fierce glare and released a torrent of spiteful words and curses. She even tried to cast a spell on him, but snarled in frustration as the suppression cuffs blocked her magic. She made it very clear that she felt no remorse over the death of their father, and would not hesitate to murder her brother as she had Uther.

Even so, Arthur could not bear to execute her for treason. She was his sister and he loved her. Besides, she was not in her right mind. Instead, he delivered a different judgement.

"I will not kill you Morgana, but you will not go unpunished," he told her. "You will wear the suppression cuffs forever more, and you will be confined to your chambers. I will allow you to stroll in the gardens or visit the market once a week, but you will be under heavy guard. You will also be allowed to join festivities if you so wish. My coronation is in three days, and it would mean a great deal to me if you were there. I still care for you."

"I would rather drown in my own blood then see you upon my throne," she screeched. "I hate you. Kill me and let it be over. I have no wish to live without my magic."

Arthur left without a word or a backward glance. His heart wept at the loss of the kind girl he'd grown up with. He blamed himself for not noticing that it was all going wrong in his family.

That night, Merlin held him tightly as they laid in bed.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered fiercely.

"She practically begged me for death," Arthur half sobbed. "Told me that she didn't want to live without magic."

"I don't blame her for that," Merlin replied after a moment. "It isn't pleasant, but she will get used to it eventually."

"Does she feel it too? The burning under her skin?"

"I don't know," his lover answered. "My magic is different from others, I believe. Like it's alive, part of me rather than an ability. I spoke to Gaius about it, and he thinks it's because I was born this way. But I do understand some of what she's feeling. It's as though all the warmth and colour in the world is gone. But she will adjust, and hopefully the medication will take a stronger hold soon. She will be fine."

Arthur tried to believe it. At the very least, he allowed a seed of hope to plant itself in his chest. He was trying to do right by Morgana, and one day she might possibly forgive him for it.

The next day was spent replying to letters from the surrounding kingdoms, thanking them for their condolences. The afternoon provided some excitement, as Aredian appeared. He had a young Druid boy in the cage, and Arthur was furious. The boy was traumatised, too scared to speak, and his arm was infected from a bite from one of the Witchfinder's metal hounds.

Aredian was arrested on the spot, and Merlin opened the cage, lifting the boy out and carrying him to Gaius' chambers. Arthur accompanied them, waiting until the boy was treated and settled in bed, before sitting next to him and assuring him he was safe. He even promised to return the boy to his people the next day.

Merlin woke suddenly in the middle of the night, sensing powerful magic in the castle. Arthur followed him, calling for guards as the sorcerer tracked it to its source.

It turned out to be Morgause breaking in to discover the fate of her sister. The magic Merlin had felt was used to dispatch two unfortunate guards that had caught her sneaking through the corridors. A short battle ensued, but Merlin managed to subdue her long enough for a pair of suppression cuffs to be brought, and the bound woman was taken to the dungeons.

The next morning, a group of motorcars set off from the city. Arthur and Merlin sat close in the back of one, the Druid boy pressed against the sorcerer's side.

It was nearing lunchtime when they arrived at the Valley of the Fallen Kings. The vehicles returned to Camelot as Arthur and his Bridge crew stepped into the forest.

An hour later, they reached the Druid camp and gave the boy over to Iseldir's care. They were invited to share a meal and gratefully accepted, sitting around the fire, chatting. A little girl ran up to them at one point, handing Arthur a wooden mobile, and blushing madly as she explained that it was a charm to ward off evil spirits and inspire happiness.

"Thank you," he grinned. "I think this will look wonderful in the window of my chambers. What do you think Merlin?"

"I completely agree," his lover nodded.

As the sun began to hang low in the sky, they thanked their hosts and readied to return to Camelot. The Druid boy, whose name they learned was Mordred, embraced Merlin tightly, then tentatively hugged Arthur as well.

Walking back to the Queen Ygraine, Arthur fished the keys out of his pocket. He paused before unlocking her, spotting Tristan lurking in the trees. The pirate smirked and gave him a nod of respect. Returning the gesture, Arthur opened the door and let everyone in to prepare to take off.

They returned to Camelot just after sunset to find Hunith waiting for them in the council chambers. Merlin flung himself into his mother's arms with a cry of joy, and the two of them sobbed as they clutched each other close.

Feeling as though he were intruding, Arthur tried to slip out of the room but Hunith caught him. He found himself dragged into a tearful embrace, the woman thanking him over and over for saving her son. He patted her back carefully, a little unsure of himself, unused to a mother's affections.

A giggling Merlin eventually rescued him from the stranglehold, guiding her to a seat and settling down to talk. Arthur took the opportunity to escape, ordering some dinner to be sent for them, before hiding in his chambers.

It was much later in the evening that Merlin entered the room and slipped into bed with him. The chambers next door were officially his, but they had never been used. Hunith was sleeping there tonight, the sorcerer explained, before proceeding to show Arthur just how happy he was to be reunited with his mother.

–

The morning of the coronation dawned warm and bright. Arthur and Merlin woke early and tucked into a delicious breakfast before George, Uther's old manservant, shooed the sorcerer out. Arthur's own servant, Morris, would be assisting Merlin that day.

Arthur wondered how he'd drawn the short straw. George was efficient, but stuffy. He would pass him off to another Lord, and take Morris back for himself in the morning.

As George bustled about, drawing his bath and later brushing non-existent wrinkles and dust off his clothes, the sound of people chattering in the courtyard drifted through the open window. He risked a peek and saw the townsfolk gathering, waving flags and clutching flowers.

After the ceremony, he would go out onto the balcony and address the people. He'd already worked out his speech, he would tell them that he aimed to create a world of peace and prosperity. He hoped that they would share his dreams, and a flutter of nervousness took up residence in his belly at the thought of speaking to so many.

Eventually, George smoothed his cloak across his shoulders and presented him with his ceremonial sword. It was a centuries old tradition in Camelot to present the monarch with a decorative sword on their coronation day. The weapon hung at their side as they swore their oaths and was seen as a symbol of their dedication to the country.

Arthur took the sword, studying it carefully. The blunt blade was highly polished, shining brightly, but it was the hilt that captured his attention. White enamel inlaid with the golden dragon of the Pendragon crest, it was simple but striking. He felt that it suited him, and was glad that it was unlike his father's, which was heavily jewelled and really quite gaudy.

Satisfied, he slipped the sword into the plain scabbard hanging from his belt, thanked George and made his way to the Throne Room. In the antechamber, he took a deep breath, threw his shoulders back and waited for the trumpets to announce his arrival.

Sweeping down the aisle, he kept his eyes forward despite his temptation to look for Merlin. Arriving at the dais, he knelt on the cushion before the throne, and gazed up at Geoffrey who stepped in front of him.

At the elderly man's prompting, he swore to uphold justice and mercy, and to protect the people of the land. Finally, the crown settled cold and heavy on his head. Geoffrey stepped back as Arthur rose to his feet and turned to face the assembly.

A loud chant of "Long live the King" filled the room as his eyes swept over the gathering. His crew stood in the front of the knights and he gave them a fond look, before he continued his survey. On the left of the aisle, Merlin stood in the front row between his mother and Gaius.

His lover's eyes were filled with tears of joy, a proud grin on his face as he chanted along with the crowd. His voice was so loud and passionate that Arthur could hear it above all the others.

There was no sign of Morgana, and when he caught Gwen's eye, she lifted her shoulders and gave him a helpless look. He gave her a reassuring nod, understanding that she'd tried to convince her mistress to come. It was not Gwen's fault that his sister hated him.

As his eyes drifted back to Merlin, the faint disappointment in his chest faded away. He had the person he needed the most with him already.

–

At the feast that night, Arthur surveyed the festivities over his wine glass. The food had been eaten, much alcohol consumed, and now many people were dancing as the musicians brought out their instruments. Lancelot was carefully leading Gwen around the floor, whilst Gwaine had yanked Hunith out her seat next to Merlin, and was now attempting a jaunty jig.

Arthur leaned over the arm of his chair to speak into his lover's ear.

"Shouldn't you be the one dancing with your mother?"

Merlin turned to look at him, eyes sparkling with laughter.

"I'm hopeless at dancing," he grinned. "I tend to just fall over my own feet. Besides, Mother can handle Gwaine. She's in no need of rescue."

Arthur turned back to the dance floor just in time to see Hunith clip the Knight around the ear and start scolding him for something. Behind her, Percival doubled over in laughter.

"I suppose you're right," he conceded.

"Anyway, this is your coronation. Don't you want to dance My Lord?" his lover breathed into his ear.

"Goodness no," he looked back at Merlin. "I'm far too tired for that. It's been a long day. I'm happy where I am."

"I'm sure," a smile tugged at the corner of Merlin's lips. "What are your plans for tomorrow, my king?"

Arthur ignored the thrill that went up his spine as his lover said those words.

"I've already spoken to the knights and given my orders," he answered. "Tomorrow morning, Leon and Lancelot will lead a raid on the aether program buildings. Elyan and Percival will do the same at the docks. All sorcerers will be taken to Gaius, and those that work for the program will be arrested. I meanwhile, will officially repeal the ban on magic. From now on, magic users will be free, subject to the same laws as all the other citizens of Camelot. If they break the law, they will face the same consequences as others, though if magic is involved, they may be sentenced to suppression cuffs."

"What are you going to do about the ships?" Merlin asked. "Camelot will be vulnerable without a fleet."

"When we brought the Queen home yesterday, you fed her magic through your hands, not the crystal," Arthur laid out his plan. "With magic legalised, I can offer sorcerers paid work on the ships. We will refit them, so that the capsules are open and install chairs instead of cots. There would be two or three magic users assigned to each ship, so that they can rest and not become tired and overworked."

"That's a very good idea," Merlin looked impressed.

"Thank you," Arthur smiled. "The second order of business will be the trials of Morgause, Aredian and everyone involved in the aether program."

"That will take a long time," his lover frowned.

"Months, I know. But they must be punished accordingly," he reached over to lace his fingers with Merlin's. "And that brings me to the third order of business."

"And what would that be?" the sorcerer asked.

"Making you my King's Consort. If you'll have me, that is?"

"What?" Merlin asked faintly.

"I love you Merlin," Arthur said earnestly. "I don't ever want to be without you. So, I'm asking you to marry me."

His lover stared at him, astonished.

"But- but what about heirs?"

"Guinevere and Lancelot," Arthur directed his gaze out at the dance floor. "Look at them. Two of the kindest, bravest people I know. And so in love. I have no doubt that they will soon marry and fill the castle with the patter of tiny feet. I will name their oldest child my heir. I can think of no better people to raise the future king or queen of Camelot."

Merlin looked deeply into his eyes.

"Are you sure about this Arthur?" he asked.

"I have never been more certain in my life," the king replied. "I love you, and I want you by my side forever. Will you marry me?"

A wide grin spread across Merlin's face.

"Yes. Nothing would make me happier."

Arthur laughed in joy, and uncaring of their audience, leaned in to capture his lips in a deep kiss. His future, his sorcerer, his love.

His Merlin.

Merlin didn't know how many years had passed since he'd been locked into the capsule.

He didn't mind so much any more though. The dragon in his dreams told him to be patient, that he would one day be free. And he found hours of entertainment watching Arthur and his crew through his magic.

Prince Arthur. His salvation, according to the dragon. Merlin didn't really like him at first, he seemed arrogant and selfish. But then he started to see a hint of greatness in the man. A softness that only appeared when he was alone in his cabin.

Merlin's interest grew into a fascination, and beyond. Gradually, he fell in love with his prince, and longed for the day that they would finally meet.

The ship had been docked for almost two weeks. Merlin knew from conversations about the ship that there were to be many celebrations for Arthur's coming of age. He wished the prince a wonderful birthday, but he was itching to return to the sky. To sail through the clouds, and see Arthur's face bathed in the light of his magic once more.

The door to the capsule banged open, the red haired scientist and his two guards stepping inside. They watched carefully as he ate and washed in the bucket they provided.

"In," the scientist commanded when he'd finished, the guards flexing their muscles menacingly.

He hastened to obey, scrambling into place under the wiring loom. The guards strapped him in, and the scientist checked his position before the three of them left. The lock clicked loudly once the door was shut, and Merlin was alone once more.

He waited, his magic humming in excitement. The walls of the capsule were sound proof, so he could not hear the crew boarding, but he could sense them. The Queenherself thrilled as her corridors were filled.

Finally, the ship rocked as the anchors were released. Any moment now, the thrusters would come online. The familiar tingle erupted in his fingers and toes. Arthur was at the helm, he just knew it.

The sudden, sharp tug at his magic came as a shock, like it always did, drawing a surprised shout from his mouth. It soon settled down into a smooth, pleasant relief as the pressure inside him released. He cast his mind along the flow of power and found himself outside.

He could see the sky, and the city far below. He could feel the sun and the wind as he propelled the ship forwards. Around him, the Queen Ygraine rejoiced at being in the air, her prince and her warlock working together again. Merlin sang along with her.

The next few days became a hazy blur of travel and Arthur watching. Then Merlin was violently awakened by the rattle of gunfire. Pirates. It had to be.

Arthur changed direction, and Merlin focused on pushing as much power into the thrusters as possible. He had to keep them all safe.

There was a violent shudder, and with a screech of metal, he saw a piece of the ceiling come away and fall towards him. There was a sharp pain in his head, and the world went black.

He woke slowly, eyes refusing to open, his head throbbing. Then, there was a soothing voice and gentle fingers, water at his lips. He forced his eyes open, and the roof that came into view was an unfamiliar one, stone and far away.

A face appeared above him. Blond hair, blue eyes, pink lips. A face he'd seen so many times through his magic, but never with his eyes.

Merlin couldn't believe that it was finally happening. The day he'd wished for for so long was here. He gazed up in dazed awe at the other man. His future, his King, his love.

Arthur.

A/N: Just a few things I want to say, to make my choices for this piece clear.

Firstly, Gaius. I know that some of you might be upset at the fact that he didn't want to intervene in Merlin's execution, however I felt that this would have been a reaction that Gaius would have had to a stranger in Camelot. It was made pretty clear in the show that during the Purge, though Gaius did what he could, he often stood aside and let people die in order to keep himself safe.

Secondly, Lancelot's smoke bomb rescue. Though in the show, Lancelot poisoned the guards' stew when he rescued Gwen from Hengeist's dungeon, I felt it unlikely that he would kill innocent Camelot guards. Yes he could have used a sleeping draft, but Morgana already took that idea, and the smoke bomb was used by both Arthur and Gwen in the show, so I felt it a plausible option.

Thirdly, the cave they hid in is the one from 3x13, and there are links to other episodes from all five series that I'm sure you will have spotted. Some of the dialogue just seemed to fit.

Finally, Gwaine and Percival's relationship was not something I planned on, it was quite a surprise to me when it appeared on my page. I hope, however, that you all enjoyed it.

Well, that's everything from me. Hope you liked it, and please leave a review!