A/N So I have to apologise yet again for the exceedingly long wait since it has been *Chokes* very nearly an entire year since I updated anything. It has been a year like none other. I never expected my business to become so busy, nor did I know I would be forced by necessity to move house with all of the attendant problems. There are really good reasons for my being so utterly appalling at uploading but they aren't really excuses. I am hoping I will have more time to write this year but good intentions don't seem to transform into actually getting stuck in and doing. I will try, but I cannot guarantee when my next update will be. I hope this new chapter will go some way towards apologising though since it's the one a lot of you have been waiting for. I hope I have done it justice and if there are any mistakes please excuse them I have not been able to get this to a beta.

Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou to all who have kept reviewing during this far too long hiatus. This one is for you. May it keep your faith in me alive.

...

He'd tried to get up again from the cot since the dizziness wouldn't subside and nor would the pain in his head. It throbbed worse than anything he recalled experiencing even when he'd been knocked out from a glancing blow during training and lain unconscious for an entire day. He grinned slightly in rueful remembrance at the memory of Gwaine and Lancelot's faces upon waking and their humorous account of how panicked the then prince regent had been and his attempts to find out his condition without seeming to really care. A lot had happened since and in the time since Arthur's coronation, the kings regard had become strained. The constraints upon their disparate positions meant any overt signs of care became buried ever more deeply in case his council took his favouritism toward a mere servant the wrong way. Too many people nowadays would have taken offence and deemed his presence and supposed influence as both wrong and dangerous.

Now he was most obviously alone. Merlin couldn't work out if that was just another way to throw Arthur's sycophantic advisors even further or he'd contracted something contagious and therefore being kept as far from anyone considered remotely important as possible. Or mayhap with the amount of time he and the king spent together, Arthur had also contracted said illness and was now being kept in pampered, royal isolation. He grinned slightly to imagine the sheer boredom and irritation Arthur would be experiencing if such was the case. He could only imagine how bad his temper would become. Merlin grimaced at the strident winging he'd had to put up with in other times of Arthur's forced inactivity. Then the grin became a raspy laugh as he realised he didn't have to deal with the royal pain in the rear end right now. He had to concede to feeling just slightly sorry for those who did.

Never the less, amusing as it was trying to imagine how everyone else would cope with the king's toddlerish behaviour, it didn't help him one iota in figuring out exactly what was wrong with him or what he was to do now. His theory of this being the sort of attack a mentally unstable sorcerer hell bent on passive aggressive revenge might apply had reluctantly been tossed out of the metaphorical window. It was he thought rather stupid now as his mind had cleared somewhat from the fog he'd woken with. And with his muddled brain finally recognising the tent as one of those they'd taken with them on that thankfully well resolved campaign into Cearleon to confront Queen Annis. He couldn't be blamed he thought for forgetting, he'd only seen the damn thing once and had been rather preoccupied in keeping a prat alive at the time, not looking around at the minute details of their accommodations.

How long had he been awake now? A good while, half a candle-mark at least, or so his internal senses were telling him, and he was getting more and more restless as the seconds ticked by with still no sign of another living soul. Surely someone was monitoring the tents if they had indeed housed the sick? Gaius would have had his head if he had been so careless as to leave a patient so long alone. For that matter where was his father figure? Was he sick too? There was no doubt in Merlin's mind if Gaius had been in charge of whatever had befallen him and whomsoever had been sharing this tent he would not have been so lax. His absence therefore sent a sharp stab of worry straight to his gut and motivated him even more into finding out exactly what was going on.

Determinedly he rested his chin on his chest, breathing deep and eyes closed against the spinning, he took a much more careful stock of his symptoms than his first rather hasty and half hearted assessment, trying to gauge with his medical and magical senses just what he might have come down with if anything. It wasn't easy to pinpoint. The nausea and headache, achy joints and weakness could be signs of a dozen different illnesses, along with poison or recovery from infection though there was no sign of injury, nor any recollection of being so, the same with poison. Nor did his magic seem overly depleted as would have happened if he had been excessively wounded or recovering from a severe illness. The only thing he could glean with any accuracy were the signs of dehydration he'd found earlier, also associated with many minor illnesses, and a somewhat unusual soreness to his magical core which when he tried a whispered spell to summon water, left him gasping and made him not want to try that again for a while.

His magic was still there he could feel it, full and warmly glowing the same as always. But if prodded felt akin to the same sort of dull ache an overextended muscle might feel when recovering. He could use it but it would hurt for a long while and take longer to heal. He'd felt that before, many times when he'd been growing into his power as a youngster. There were many times he'd woken up somewhere he didn't recall falling asleep in as a child only to be informed by his worried mother he'd lost an entire day's worth of memories. Perhaps then he'd just had a growth spurt of magic? It would be odd if so, since he'd not had one since his adolescence, but it was nowhere near serious. It might also somewhat explain why he couldn't remember anything about why he was currently laying in this particular place.

The weakness, shaking and headache could therefore just be because of a lack of water, (who knew how long he'd been out for this time) and knew it would only get worse if he didn't get a drink soon. He sighed knowing that since no one had appeared in all the time he'd been awake and it looked as if there wouldn't be anyone making an entrance any time in the near future, he would just have to find his own dratted water.

It was easier said than done. Standing seemed to be out of the question since he doubled over with an overwhelming feeling of sickness as soon as he tried getting to his feet. He'd never in his life felt so unwell save the brief flashes of the time he'd been poisoned his first year in Camelot and that one far too memorable occasion after the Serkets. He ended up slowly inching his way to the edge of the bed with gritted teeth and painfully sliding himself to the floor before crawling to the entrance, his jaw locked against the strain, hoping someone would come and help and at the same time knowing how embarrassing it would be if anyone he knew did happen upon him creeping along on hands and knees across the floor.

He hadn't taken full account of how weak he truly felt nor how breathless such small exertion would leave him. Perhaps, he thought with irritated fatigue, Arthur had finally been mad enough to have all the knights have at him at once in training. He had to stop barely half way to the flap, sweat he could ill afford to lose dripping into his eyes and appendages too shaky to hold him up any longer. He rested his weight back on his legs, head tucked into his arms resting on the floor, bum stuck in the air like a feeding duck, in what he could only assume was an extremely comical sight if only it were not him doing so and tried to gather enough strength and air for the remaining distance which seemed if possible to be moving even farther away.

"Merlin mate!" Bleary eyes briefly looked up from their contemplation of the dirt beneath him with a groan to the sight of Gwaine standing at the tent flap beaming down at him, "We thought you'd never be up. What are you doing down there?"

"I was...looking for something." Merlin mumbled feeling his cheeks heating in humiliation as his friend grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up as if he weighed nothing. Depositing him back on the low bed with a slight grunt and then bringing forth the water skin slung carelessly over his shoulder. "Sorry about not being here when you rejoined the land of the living, had to refill this since everyone else has been ravenous and seriously thirsty when they first woke and took it all. Not surprising really but hey!" The knight looked around the empty tent with a slight frown marring his face not noticing the frown that his comment produced on Merlin's face. "Where's everyone else?" he asked contemplatively as he poured a horn beaker half full of the cool water.

Merlin shrugged preoccupied with Gwaine's words which indicated he hadn't been the only one to suffer in this manner. It seemed illness was the cause then. He swallowed a few times to settle his stomach back down placing his fingers almost delicately against his forehead and wincing with obvious pain. When after a few minutes Gwaine still stood looking out toward the empty beds merlin raised his hand to wave at the knights face, brow raised to indicate the beaker still held within his friends hand. Gwaine looked as if he'd forgotten what it was for, confusion evident as he looked back at the Warlock. "Water?" Merlin rasped out. Gwaine's expression suddenly cleared and all Merlin saw was sheepish embarrassment as the cup was offered into his own trembling hand. The knights calloused fingers had stayed, steadying in silent apology. "Sorry mate, don't know what I was thinking. Of course you need a drink being so long without."

Merlin tried reigning in his embarrassment at being found face down on the floor and his continued weakness, with little success. His energy still hadn't made an appearance and when all was said and done what use was holding on to such discomfiture when even holding a cup of water was proving to be a trial. He'd been a physicians apprentice long enough to know how any malady could affect even the strongest of men. He left his cheeks to burn.

Gwaine helped him sit back and held the cup steady to allow him to take the sips he as a physician knew he had to limit himself to lest he throw it all back up again. Though it was hard not to just try and gulp all that Gwaine was offering. An act he executed with more gentleness and concern than Merlin had ever seen the knight display for anyone, even his many damsels in distress. "What happened?" he managed to croak out when his throat finally eased from its deepest desert dryness to a mere scratchy thirstiness, "You said everyone? Last thing I remember is the most god awful council meeting."

"Well as to that, you were ill mate, along with half of Camelot!" Merlin's eyebrows rose to his hairline. Half of Camelot? So then where was everyone else? And why was he in a tent? Had they run out of places to put everyone? Surely not. Even when the epidemic in the tainted water had hit Camelot his first year of service, the victims had stayed within their own houses and no extra accommodation had been needed despite it's affecting nearly two thirds of the city. He was still no closer to any sort of rational explanation.

"Half of Camelot Gwaine?" Merlin's head whipped round at the second voice emerging from the vicinity of the tent flap. "You know, this is the kind of exaggerated tattling I was hoping to avoid when I told you to wait for me before butchering the explanation!"

Arthur stepped through what passed for a door in this overlarge tent with his usual arrogantly confident swagger he normally used to stalk through the hallowed halls of Camelot's citadel, and yet there was a smile upon his face that held a slew of mischief and a twinkle deep within his blue irises which spoke of relief. "Still with us then?" Despite his confusion, his weakness and the water now settling uneasily in his stomach to the point he believed it was one jostle away from making a surprise reappearance Merlin couldn't help but grin. They were the same words Arthur had used directly after the Morteus poison.

"Just about, Yeah." The grin faded somewhat as the tension inexplicably rose between the two knights now jostling for space. There was something going on here despite Arthur's levity and Gwaine's expression of good cheer that Merlin couldn't put his finger on and he looked between them with misgivings getting deeper only to mask his uncertainties with long practiced ease and state with his usual snarky cheeriness. "So, did Camelot suddenly run out of beds?" He indicated the rest of the tent with one shaking hand.

Instead of answering in the same long accustomed vein Arthur just gave him a single raised eyebrow which could have given Gaius's a run for its money and turned to the knight at his side with a seriousness Merlin had only ever seen in the direst of circumstances. Just what on earth was going on? "You left him alone? I thought I asked you to keep an eye out for when he woke."

"There were three others when I came in but no water. I went to get some and came back to find no one else here. You know how thirsty they've all been when they first wake up." The indignant offence in Gwaine's voice was unmistakeable so Merlin swallowed down the irritated aside he might normally have aired due to their talking over him as if he were not even there. Truth was he was exhausted already and he hadn't been awake for very long. Whatever had hit him had certainly taken its toll. Arthur merely sighed rather than acknowledge Gwaine's attitude and asked in a tight voice, "Could you go fetch one of the healers? I'm sure Merlin will need checking over and a hot meal."

"Your kicking me out?" Although milder than before there was still an edge of danger to Gwaine's tone which obviously didn't sit well with Arthur since his face finally took on all the arrogant hauteur he could bring to bear, and which Merlin had been expecting since this conversation started, before surprisingly deflating just as quickly once again into something sad.

"Do you really think so little of me and my promises? I just want to talk, you know we need to talk."

"Nah princess. Don't get your britches in a twist, I admit you've kept your word so far." Was it Merlin's imagination or had there been a definite emphasis placed on the 'so far'. "I just think another friend would be good right now. It's a lot to take in." And yet despite the reassurance Arthur looked even more despondent as if Gwaine had kicked him whilst he was down.

Really hating the tension now apparent in spades between two of his closest friends he did his best to dispel it with what he believed to be a simple enough question. "Um... Where's Gaius?" Merlin looked around half expecting the physician to pop out from behind one of the pillars at any moment, but by the sudden shift between the two men Merlin could tell right away something was wrong and his throwaway attempt to break up the possibly brewing argument became a suddenly much more urgent enquiry. His earlier thoughts came to haunt him. If Gaius had been able he would have been here already. "Arthur, where's Gaius?" Was that really his own voice sounding so small and afraid? It was true Gaius was a tough old coot and the magic still flowing through his veins made him stronger than a man of his age should be but he was still only a couple of summers shy of seventy and magic hadn't seemed to grant himself any of his usual resistance to this malady since he was laid here. He could only imagine how bad it had knocked his mentor's own equillibrium if he were suffering the same condition since he felt as if he had been in a battle.

"He's recovering, getting something to eat out by the fire and being fussed over. You were the last one to wake up." Merlin let out the huff of breath he seemed to have been holding without conscious thought. The relief was rather overwhelming.

"He will be fine though right?" Arthur gave his own huff, this time of exasperation.

"Always with the worrying for someone else." Gwaine shook his head ruefully at Arthur's irritated rejoinder, he could well understand and sympathise with this aspect of the monarch's attitude. "Yes he's fine, a little weak but nothing a few good meals and lots of rest won't fix. It's you we've been worrying over."

"You were worried about me?" There was the slowly emerging smirk and the sly looks toward himself Arthur had missed including the small spark of pleasure Merlin always gained in his eyes when someone let slip they cared. As if Merlin couldn't quite believe they would admit that aloud. They all knew the admission was now squirreled away to use some unspecified time later when they least expected it and had all but forgotten the incident.

"Of course not." Arthur scoffed rolling his eyes. "My armour is getting rusty, my chamber floor needs scrubbing and I'm running out of tunics."

"Camelot suddenly ran out of servants as well as the beds now?"

"In a manner of speaking." Merlin startled at the suddenly serious tone and took another drink to ease the ache within his throat, waiting for the rest of the sentence which never came.

"And I'm supposed to guess what that exceedingly cryptic statement is supposed to mean?" He asked incredulously. But whatever banter had been going had dried up. And now Gwaine, who had seemed to relax whilst they sallied back and forth tensed yet again. It was all exceedingly strange and made Merlin feel on edge as well as shaky from his apparent illness of which details he still hadn't been informed.

Gwaine's finger poked his king in the shoulder with a suddenness which made Merlin flinch. The knights words coming out with sneering exasperation. "You're supposed to be Courage you know, they've been calling you that all day, so why don't you start showing some and just tell him already." The title Courage falling so carelessly from Gwaine's lips and the look of such intensity directed at Arthur had his defences immediately on the rise. Arthur looked less than pleased when he turned to his knight.

"There is such a thing as tact, and easing him into it."

"Yeah. And then there's this thing called pussyfooting around the bloody issue." Gwaine bit the words out in such a clipped tone, sounding on the furthest edge of irritation. Merlin could imagine if he'd had a weapon his hand would have been gripping the hilt rather tightly. "You've forbidden me from saying anything, which by the way I'm still not pleased about, but I swear if you don't get it over with so we can all go eat..." Gwaine's stomach took this opportune moment to grumble, loudly.

Merlin almost laughed such was the timing, but he was by now thoroughly fed up of both the posturing and this new habit of talking about him rather than to him since it was doing nothing for his bewilderment or his illness. He waved his hand between them, not even caring that it would irritate Arthur no end. He was fairly irritated himself. "Down here, hello. I have no idea what you're on about and no wish to be in the middle of it since I really feel awful, so why don't you just either tell me whatever is going on or go away and bash your ego's together somewhere else? Please!" Both men left of the truly aggravated gaze directed at each other and instead two pairs of eyes attentively fixed upon the warlock. Identical looks of smouldering magnitude now focussed solely upon him, having come to some silent agreement between them.

"Riiiggghhht...and that doesn't make me feel intimidated at all."

Gwaine's sudden look toward Arthur with something akin to disbelief and then the full on laughter which left him gasping and bent over clutching his knees did nothing for Merlin's sense of equilibrium since Gwaine doubled up and laughing almost hysterically when he had looked and sounded, ready to all but rip Arthur's hair out in a childish tantrum just moments earlier wasn't odd at all!

"Are you sure this is just water?" He stated, eyeing the water skin and cup warily and sniffing them with a feeling of deep distrust in case they held something far more intoxicating and likely to produce hallucinations.

"Are you quite finished?" Arthur's tone left no room for interpretation and neither did his glare. He was fed up with the knight. "Yeah it's just the thought of Merlin being intimidated and all after...well..."Gwaine gasped out between titters which could almost be classed as girly.

"Right, Gwaine out!" Arthur bellowed pointing toward the flap. He was seriously regretting his choice to share what he knew of Merlin's title and magical strength with the rest of his close knights. And not for the first time asked himself why he trusted him so much when his discretion and intelligence were so questionable at times.

Arthur watched silently as he left throwing glances back as if he would argue some more but still giggling madly. He waited just long enough for the flap to fall closed once more before pulling out the stool at the side of the bed and flopping down on it. "So." Merlin started hesitantly. "Care to elaborate on what the hell all that was about."

"I'm not sure how I can say this in a way you won't panic like the girl you are."

"I'm pretty sure Gwen would be mortally insulted by that statement Arthur. Should we ask her when we get back from wherever this is you've brought us?"

"What makes you think we aren't camped out on the training fields in Camelot."

"I...Don't I guess but why else would we be in a tent? Plus Gwaine tends to be even more irritable than usual if he hasn't got access to the specially brewed mead they hold in reserve for him at the Rising Sun. So unless you've done something exceptionally stupid..." And here Merlin trailed off eyeing the king up and down obviously believing him entirely capable of doing so but not idiotic enough to say it out loud. "Then we aren't anywhere near the city any more." The extremely innocent and expectant look he turned on the king usually brought about either an answering round of banter or as much of a heart to heart as the king ever allowed himself. Either way it always elicited some kind of reaction, not to mention such an insult would never normally be passed up without some retaliation, not in such a way. It was normal, expected behaiviour he knew how to navigate with ease. Now though Arthur just looked a little too grim, and if Merlin had to describe his mood right now he could only go with a very puzzling type of pondering wholly unlike the young king he knew. Coupled with Gwaine's hysterics a few moments ago he now counted himself thoroughly lost.

"What is it Arthur?" Merlin said with decided impatience. He was weary, exhausted even and held no patience for this game he didn't know the rules to any more.

"You really aren't going to like what I'm about to say but there is just no easy way to say it." Arthur let out his own frantic sounding chuckle which sounded anything but amused. It made Merlin's skin crawl. "My father would be turning in his grave." That made him feel even worse, a shudder wracking through him as it always did at the mention of the late unlamented Uther. "I know Merlin." He stated with an intensity Merlin found extremely uncomfortable. What did he know that would cause him to be so uncharacteristically serious?

"I know who you are. I know at least some of what you've done for me, for the kingdom. I'm beginning to see the struggles you've faced and the wrongs we have done you."

Merlin shifted then, pulling away as horrible suspicions wormed their way through him at the way Arthur said he KNEW him. What the hell could he know about him? Since that hadn't been made at all clear. Arthur carried right on with his explanation not really noticing the beginnings of anxiety Merlin tried to keep well hidden just in case this wasn't what he thought it was. There was no need to panic yet, Merlin had always been able to pull the wool over Arthur's eyes with disturbing ease. It was always best to Let Arthur dig the hole to bury Merlin's secrets in by himself. Easier, even if it did make him cringe every time.

"Not just you either. Sixty three people Merlin all just getting on with their lives and hiding in plain sight. Three of my own, knights of Camelot, and no one even suspected. It's certainly made me rethink quite a lot of what we've all been taught." Merlin's attention had certainly been peaked now, though a lifetime of training in evasiveness was brilliant training for keeping anything of his rising turmoil from showing. This sounded far closer to the mark than anything else Arthur had ever suspected. He wasn't entirely sure how to comprehend the fact Arthur seemed to be saying exactly what he had feared. And yet he was not looking on him in disgust. He clung to the hope his muddled thinking was misreading the situation on his part and not that Arthur truly knew what he was. He could not overlook the knowledge that no matter what Arthur thought or felt, he was a King. The king of Camelot and still subject to his kingdoms will. The kingdom of Camelot had not been friendly to magic users for over twenty years.

"I'm not sure Camelot is entirely ready yet, but I hope you and everyone out there might be willing to help me regardless."

"Help you?" It was the only thing Merlin could think to say. His mind latching on to that comment and processing the fact Arthur was actually asking for help. He still wasn't sure yet what for but obviously if he still wanted to interact then his secrets were still safe.

He sighed slightly in sadness, as he always did every time an opportunity for his magic to be known passed him by; partly in vexation at still having no clue as to what was going on or where they were.

And that last must have been said aloud without Merlin's having registered it. Either that or Arthur had started a new sideline in mind reading, which given everything he was having to deal with now wouldn't in the least surprise him. "We had to bring you all out to the druid encampment on the border with Nemeth since their medical and magical knowledge were sorely needed."

"You went to the Druids?!" His voice came out strangled and that was hardly surprising considering Arthur had merely tolerated the Druids presence in Camelot after his confrontation with them at the site of the ruined camp. Theirs was an uneasy truce at best. To find he had willingly sought their aid, in magic no less, for what amounted to a handful of ill citizens, was a massive jump in his thinking. Just what had been going on whilst he was ill?

"They were the only ones who could help us? Especially with the nature of this affliction. We need their aid." He couldn't help but realise Arthur had said 'we need their aid', present tense, as in still did. If he were the last to recover what could he still want help from a group of magic users for?

"What with Arthur...Please...I don't Know what you're trying to say." But deep down he really thought he might be garnering an inkling with everything he had said so far. So when the confirmation came the initial shock did not hit him as hard as he thought it would.

"This illness Merlin, It only affected those in the kingdom...who have magic."

"Ah." That one word was all Merlin could manage without sounding like a strangled cat. He suddenly found the crumpled bedding clutched under his fingers exceedingly interesting. He was only happy he'd managed to not look and sound as terrified as he felt.

Arthur meanwhile was scrutinising him thoroughly for his reaction. Contrary to what Arthur had expected, Merlin did not outwardly panic as completely as he had believed at the knowledge his secret was out. Or at least, his mostly to all appearances calm and slightly fidgety demeanour never changed if he was.

He didn't know if that was a good thing or if his words just hadn't registered and the nerves and terror would kick in only when the coin finally dropped. It could even be that Merlin was in fact having an entire emotional meltdown right there in front of his eyes and the blank gaze directed at him was just a mask, a front designed to tell all and sundry that there was nothing to see, when in fact his whole world had just crashed in a fiery ball. He couldn't know that was exactly what Merlin was going through.

All he saw were those unusually blue orbs looking slightly more wary, narrower and with a glint that somehow seemed so sad. It wasn't alarm exactly but he realised he had seen such a look before. Several times in the past when he'd thought there was something not quite right with his manservant he had held such an air about him, and yet he had always come bouncing straight back from whatever had been affecting him, carrying on as normal and Arthur had dismissed his worries over the man as just a figment of his over active imagination.

Now faced with this, he realised how wrong he had been and wished he could go back and undo the sarcastic, almost callous ways he had dealt with them all. But the past was the past and no amount of wishing would change them, he could only hope he had the words to reassure him now. He opened his mouth to do so and then stopped as Merlin spoke, hands still bunched in the bedding and from what he now saw, clutching on for dear life.

"I guess that's that then." The slightly tense and yet flat way Merlin said the words themselves spoke volumes as his face, still oddly calm, went from puzzled to accepting yet wary after a few moments. That sigh spoke of weariness, as if he had been carrying some great weight for so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to put it down. "So you know I have magic and we are all in some forest somewhere in Nemeth, in a Druid camp and we cannot go back to Camelot right now, Is that about the gist of it?"

"You're not banished Merlin if that is what you think."

"Forgive me for saying but that is exactly what it sounds like!" He shot out. "Why else do you still need their aid if as you say everyone is now recovering? At least we haven't been summarily put to death, perhaps we should be grateful." And there was the merest hint of bitterness just detectable underlying the words which made Arthur's hackles rise slightly at yet another person in the camp taking their first impression and running with it without benefit of explanation. The word 'Grateful' almost spat at him. Just how many people would he have to justify himself to? But he quashed it, before it could fully take hold. These people had every reason to be suspicious of both his motives and his promises, how many just like them had he killed after all? And also just on a first impression he or his father ran with.

Merlin's self-control failed completely then, allowing the anxiety free reign. His carefully constructed facade crumbling visibly before the king who swore softly under his breath and called Merlin an idiot just like always. He'd been the one to butcher the explanations now, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to send Gwaine out after all. He was coming to realise he was singularly bad at comforting people. The slight chuckle he gave at realising he would need to start again from the very beginning was entirely inappropriate and made Merlin's entire demeanour fall even further south. It just made him laugh even harder not able to stop.

For Merlin it was no laughing matter. Could Arthur not see his words had just come crashing through, lighting his existence up in flames and leaving a gaping hole in the shield his secrecy had provided? He had come to terms long ago with the fact he would never be able to tell Arthur who he was because his anonymity afforded protection not only for himself but everyone in the kingdom. Now to wake into a world where the king knew his most closely guarded secret and apparently Gwaine too since he couldn't dismiss his reactions as anything else, along with how many others? Just how was he to keep people safe now? The full implications finally broke through the barrier of numbing shock he had erected all unknowing. His mind whirring through every scenario he had ever devised over the years of how people might react. The best was Arthur's council resigning adding more stress to the young monarch and other kingdoms seeing them as weak because of it. The worst could be civil war. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid.

It had been so clear to the warlock. Arthur had to be protected, Merlin was the only one fully equipped to do so for magical threats. Magic however had become so completely synonymous with evil for Camelots citizens, he would become the catalyst of mobs, riots, at the very least a spectacle of entertainment for the malicious masses to try to gain advantage. Therefore Arthur could never know who he was. His secret was a castle made of paper, thin and delicately balanced. Yet he had managed to hide within it for years under everyone's noses. Now however his castle had been blown away in a stiff wind exposing all that he was to the dissenters, manipulators and unscrupulous. Arthur would be beset on all sides from this. His breathing had sped up again without him noticing until he felt so light headed.

Arthur's hands came out of nowhere his hysterics slowly diminishing as Merlin's distress rose. Landing on Merlin's shoulders with uncharacteristic gentle pressure. Laughter still dancing in his irises but at least he had stopped chuckling aloud. His mouth merely stretching into a rueful and slightly guilty smile.

"If it helps," He stated softly, "everyone else has been through the exact same thing. I know, it's a shock. Just breath, nice and deep, that's it. Trust me, you'll feel better in a moment." Arthur's low, even voice penetrated the spiralling fog his mind had fallen into. And yes, surprisingly after a while he actually did.

"Since when...did you...become...the physician?" Merlin's smile was a mere shadow of his former grin. Arthur couldn't have thought through the bigger picture yet, or he wouldn't be so optimistic or so gleeful. Still he was trying and it did settle him somewhat.

"Since my idiot of a manservant decided to collapse so spectacularly in front of the entire council. But, you have my word, for what it is worth to you. We will all go home together." There was a long pause filled with the visible signs of a warlock trying to keep calm before Merlin his voice softened significantly spoke against the king's chest. "I can imagine it came as quite a surprise."

Merlin ignored the hope generated by his king's words though they meant a great deal. It didn't seem as if he had lost Arthur's friendship yet, though how long that would last if he was made aware of everything was yet to be determined. He continued to look down at the ground between them both and then away toward the tent flap, now open to admit the last light of evening and his voice turned soft and wistful no longer quite so broken thinking back to the hopes he had held for the first few years of his residency within Camelot. "I'd thought if you ever found out at all it would have been me who told you."

"You weren't going to tell me." Not a question and that spoke volumes about how much Arthur's observational skills had undergone a rapid reassessment. Arthur could now detect so much longing within his servant and the denial he knew he'd figured out. It seemed with these revelations he was becoming slightly more attuned to the emotions usually kept hidden from him.

"I didn't know how to or even if I should. You and the kingdom just seemed to become less tolerant every year and when your father died it became an impossible hope to have you know all of me."

"Yes well you're ill right now so you are obviously having trouble realising what is in front of you. Wait until we get home. I have a nice list of all the best chores for you to do. The moat hasn't been dredged in a while, I'm rather curious as to how long it would take you, without cheating!"

Arthur gave him a look of such fond exasperation as he said it, as if everything were normal, just another day of Arthur and Merlin, the king and his servant. But for Merlin all he could think was how long the peace between them would last. And though it was a nice dream, returning to Camelot was an impossibility until magic was accepted by everyone.

They both ignored the tears making their slow tracks down the warlocks face.