Merlin had just saved Arthur. Again. From bandits intent on killing the king. Merlin had crushed some under trees, hung some from branches, and had re-directed arrows into the enemy's kneecaps and feet. Nothing he had caused was fatal, but he could guarantee they wouldn't be moving for a while.

It felt good, using his magic openly, without fear of persecution, or execution. Everybody knew by now that Merlin was a warlock, ever since he told Arthur one day, but that was a tale for another day. Long story short, Merlin told Arthur, Arthur gave Merlin a speech about lying to royalty, and then a few months later, Arthur had magic legalised, much to the Warlock's delight. Everyone was used to, and accepted it now, some even started practicing the art. Gaius occasionally used magical ingredients in his potions, and so many 'incurable' illnesses suddenly had cures. Camelot had changed for the better - nae, Albion had changed for the better. Ad Merlin couldn't be prouder of his friend, and of himself. It was what he had always dreamed of.

Arthur smiled affectionately at his manservant-slash-Court Warlock, for that was what Merlin was. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"Let's call it a day," Arthur told his warlock, sighing. They would return with a deer and a handful of pheasants. Not a great haul, mostly due to Merlin's heavy-footed clumsiness. He had scared away two deer and a fox, just in the past two hours,and Arthur correctly suspected it was not by accident.

The pair mounted their horses and prepared to ride home, when a bandit, half squashed under a log, raised his crossbow with shaking hands, and took aim at Arthur.

"Arthur - Duck!" Merlin yelled, and the king flattened himself to his horse, as Merlin's eyes glowed a glittering gold. The arrow was hovering just where the King's head had been.

Arthur let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, as the arrow clattered to the ground. He sat up, enraged suddenly.

"That's it!" He exclaimed. "I am sick of always being saved and rescued! I didn't do a thing to help today!"

"You didn't have to," Merlin commented.

"That's not the point! A king is supposed to protect his people, not be the damsel in distress!"

"Where are you going with this?"

"I..." His anger vanished almost as quickly as it came. "I want you to teach me magic."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Are you sure about this, Arthur?" Merlin asked the king on once they were back in Camelot. They were in Arthur's chambers, perched on the end of his bed.

"Of course I'm sure, Merlin!" Arthur said it confidently, but he was actually a little unsure. He was the king of Camelot, should he be doing this? But it was legal now, and therefore he had every right to. But it just felt odd, like his father was looking over his shoulder telling him how disappointed he was. This internal battle went on and on, until defiance won. He Sat up taller and gave Merlin an expectant look.

"Right. Okay... So..." Merlin had no idea how to teach somebody magic! He hadn't learnt it himself, it was instinctual! He didn't think he was the right person to do this, and he voiced his concerns to Arthur.

"Don't be such a baby, Merlin! Take a chance! Experiment!"

"What do I show you, though?"

"I dunno, what about that little fireball light thing you use when it's dark?"

"Alright... It's just a light, though. It's not hot. You can't roast anyone with it!... Actually, maybe it is the best spell to start with!"

Merlin deflected the candlestick that came flying towards his head, with a flash of his eyes. Arthur never hesitated to lob heavy objects at his person now, since it very rarely hit him. Gone were the days where a pillow was the heaviest thing to come flying at him.

"Right... So... I'll... Demonstrate?" Arthur nodded, so Merlin did.

"Forbærnen!" a little ball of cool fire popped into existence on Merlin's outstretched palm. It's slender flames stretched and licked at his fingers, yet he did not burn. When a red-hot arm reached out to touch his sleeve, it did not light. It was completely harmless.

"So... What do I do? Just... Say it?" Arthur looked at the glowing ball in his Warlock's hand.

"Uh, yeah. But you need to clear your mind. Just focus on what you want to happen, leave anything else behind."

Well, now Merlin had said it, Arthur couldn't stop thinking. He wondered what Quinivere was up to. Probably burning more lavender scented candles. Did he remember to tie up his horse today?

"Forbere-nen!"

Nothing happened. Not even a spark. He let out a deflated sigh.

"Foreberenen!"

Nothing.

"Let's work on your pronunciation, first. It's 'for-bear-nen'. Not foreberenen. Think to yourself that your giving something to a bare man. Say 'for bare men', just with an N at the start of men."

Arthur made a face at Merlin. "Why would I be giving something to a bare man?"

"I dunno, maybe you're giving him clothes!"

"Ri-ght..." Arthur shook his head. "Forbareman!"

"Yes, but remember, with an 'N'!"

Arthur gave Merlin a withering look. "Forbærnen!"

"Yes!" Merlin clapped Arthur.

"But nothing happened!" Arthur whined.

"No, but at least you pronounced it right!"

"Merlin!"

"Alright. Fine. Now you need to clear your mind. Say it again, but just focus on the flame."

It was hard, not to think of anything! It was like being told the water had run out, and suddenly needing a drink! Or hearing the words, 'your nose does not itch. Your nose does not itch. Your nose does not itch.' It makes you need to do whatever it is your trying not to do

When was the last time he had held a council meeting?

No, fire.

Was that a sock Arthur could see poking out from under the bed? Merlin would need to clean it.

Fire!

Where did that candle stick that he had lobbed at Merlin rolled off to?

Fire! "Forbærnen!"

Naturally, again, his attempt was fruitless. This was going to be a long day...

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

They had been in Arthur's chambers for hours now, and both the king and the warlock could feel their blood pressure rising. Arthur felt like punching something. None of his many attempts had worked so far. It was so frustrating! Merlin could do it, no problem! But obviously Arthur was not cut out for magic.

"Let's try again tomorrow," Merlin sighed. His head hurt, and if he didn't leave soon he would hit Arthur. He was a patient man - mostly - but this was ridiculous. They had been at it for three hours straight! It was already dark, and Gaius would be worried. He bid his goodies to Arthur, and made his way brought the dimly lit coridor.

OoOoOoOOoOoO

Arthur grit his teeth in annoyance. He didn't have a lot of patience at the best of times, but... Three hours...! And it still had not worked.

He flopped into his bed, suddenly feeling very alone. He considered going to see if Guinevere was still up, but it was extremely late, and he didn't want to accidentally wake her. So there he lay, in complete darkness, contemplating his life and magic.

Should he even be doing this? He felt like he was betraying his father somehow. Even though he knew that Uther had once used magic for his own purposes. Like for a heir, in fact.

Arthur hoped never to use magic in that way, nor get anyone else to do it for him. One life for another. It seemed extremely cruel... His mind drifted to his mother, and he daydreamed about her.

They were in the woods, having a picnic. Morgana was there too, but she was good, like she had been before she was taken. They were laughing, they were happy. Like a true family should be. There was a stream to their right, and Arthur could see little fish swimming and jumping in it, making the occasional little splash that might spray their toes. It was sunny, in the woods, and butterflies fluttered past the tall boughs of the trees. A doe trotted past them, stopping to stare for a moment, it's big, innocent eyes staring. Then, it darted off, trotting between the bushes. That was how life should have been. How Arthur had always hoped it would be...

He was drifting asleep. Another few seconds and he word be out like a light.

A light.

Maybe...

"Forbærnen," he whispered, eyes half shut. But they were open just enough for him to see the little ball of light that lay on his palm. The drowsy kind smiled softly.

Can't wait to tell Merlin, he thought to himself, and then he was blissfully unconscious.

The End.