Of Honour and Magic

Pt Three: Here Rests His Head

Disclaimer: I do not own the television show Merlin. Any publicly recognised characters are entirely not of my creation. I do, however, own this story, so hands OFF!

Chapter titles and quoted text is from the poem 'An Elegy Wrote in a Country Churchyard' by Gray.

The sentence about steel against steel, magic against magic is taken from the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind.

Summary: Everyone expected Arthur to protect his manservant when it was revealed the boy was a warlock. Instead, he stood proudly beside his father as his best friend was tied to a stake and a pile of firewood was built below.

A/N: Well, this has been a ridiculously slow update, hasn't it? I can only apologise, and say that I hope this chapter makes up for the lack of contact.

A lot of this chapter is angsty. It seemed fitting to return to the events of Chapter One and their effect on our characters. But no, we don't find out about where Merlin's been. That waits for the sequel... more about that on my profile.

By the way, this chapter is not Beta'd. I thought it would be better to give it straight to you, rather than make you wait for me to get it back from a beta, especially given how long you have already waited. If you see any mistakes, let me know, and I'll sort it out.

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy marked him for her own.

The subtle light of sunset illuminated the edges of the words cut deep into a stone plaque resting upon the ground. Seven years of harsh weather had barely left its mark on the tombstone, the only signs of age being slight wisps of weathering upon the stone surface. Wilting wildflowers graced the base of the memorial, their fading colours tinged red from the dying sun.

Arthur stood in front of the grave with the sun setting over the horizon before him. He cast his eyes to the familiar spot where the golden star always shone, but he saw no such star. The cracking of a twig sent shivers down the young king's spine, and he turned to greet the newcomer.

A smiling Merlin came through the trees, his posture relaxed and he seemed to not have a care in the world. For someone who had been dead for seven years, he looked as if he was fitting back into Camelot life as if he had never left.

"King Arthur, sire." The sorcerer swept low into a bow, his back cracking in protest. "Why are you so far from the castle at this time of evening? Not that it is my business or anything, your majesty."

"Shut it, Merlin." Arthur said, clapping his friend on the back as he straightened. "I like to be alone to watch the sunset."

"I'm sorry, I'll leave if you want..." Merlin shifted back slightly, rocking on his one good foot, fumbling madly to get his balance back on his staff. He got himself under control, and caught a glimpse of Arthur's sorrowful expression before the king turned away.

"No, it's ok." Arthur sighed deeply. "You didn't know. It's something that only started seven years ago..." The mention of the past sobered the already sincere atmosphere. Merlin ambled slowly to stand beside his friend, resting his hand on Arthur's arm when he reached him.

"Sunset is the time when the day is dying, when work is over and people can just relax, spend time with their families." Arthur explained. "For me, it's the start of when I can stop being Royal Arthur, and just be Arthur. Sometimes, I stare at the sky all night, watching the stars, until sunrise comes and I become the king again."

Merlin said nothing, knowing that there was not anything he could say. Instead, he observed the man beside him.

In the seven years he'd been away, Arthur had changed in so many ways, yet to someone who didn't know him; those changes would never have been seen. Merlin, who had spent years beside Prince Arthur, could see that King Arthur was somehow taller and more impressive than he had been. He held himself differently too; more confident, yet more reserved. Where the old Arthur had been arrogant and playful, the new one was stoic and serious.

"That's never been the case for me." Merlin said. "I have never had the chance to put who I am away and just be Merlin. It's too much a part of me, engrained to deeply onto my soul that even if I wished, I could never let my magic go. Even in my sleep it is present. My mother has long told me stories of waking to find that half the room is floating above the ground, all the while with me fast asleep."

Arthur too noticed changes in his friend. Where once the topics of his magic and his home life were kept strictly secret, he was now talking about it as if he always had. Yet despite his openness and honesty, Arthur thought that Merlin seemed more reserved than ever. He had been back for a little over a month now, but he still refused to talk about his time away. All that anyone knew was that he had transported himself into a forest far from Camelot and spent seven years training in the art of magic, learning as much as he could from people he met and carefully avoiding anyone who would recognise him and bring tales of his survival back to the city.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I truly am. I wish you could have confided in me before it was too late, I might have been able to save you." Arthur turned away, ashamed of his past actions.

"Don't be stupid Arthur. I'm still alive." Merlin protested, grabbing his friend's shoulder and making him turn back around. "Look at me, I'm right here!"

"You have a grave! You have an empty grave, because I thought that you were dead and there was nothing! I watched from the distance as they buried the ashes from the fire, because your own family didn't want me there."

"Arthur..."

"No, Merlin!" The king exclaimed, his stern face finally breaking as his agony showed through. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt? I watched as you burnt in a fire I may as well have lit myself. I stood in front of the burnt piles of wood that were all that was left of you for hours, until the sun rose and the world awoke. I was forced to mourn in private where no-one could see me miss a sorcerer."

"You were never missing a sorcerer, Arthur." Merlin stated plainly. "You were missing a friend. And anyone who would prevent you from doing that is as cold-hearted as the Snow Queen."

Arthur said nothing, just looked at Merlin for a moment, before returning his gaze to the setting sun. Merlin watched him, watched the tension in the kings shoulders and the stiffness in his friends stance.

"Where were you?" Arthur asked suddenly. "Did you visit Hunith? She was beside herself with grief at the funeral, cursing Camelot to the depths of despair and back again for taking her son from her."

"Yes, I did," Merlin replied, smiling. "She was shocked. She wanted to come back here, to apologise to you for thinking you had killed me. I stopped her, because no one could know I was alive. As for where else I have been, I was studying. Learning all I could about magic."

"But where? Where could you go where people would not recognise you?"

"It doesn't matter, Arthur." The warlock said, critically. "You are better not knowing."

"Why? " The king demanded. "Did something happen?"

"Arthur, stop. There is no need to bring up things of no consequence. All that would happen is that you would gain even more regrets than you already have." Merlin replied sagely.

Arthur was dumbstruck for a moment.

"When did you become so wise?" He asked the man before him. In all his memory, he could only remember Merlin as being a bumbling, clumsy servant. For all the changes he'd observed in his friend, it still hadn't sunk in that he was now talking to a wise, serious equal.

Merlin laughed, and Arthur smiled at the sound. Somehow, it stripped away his worries. If Merlin could still laugh like that, it didn't matter where he had been. He was still, somewhere inside, the same Merlin that Arthur had known years ago.

"Stop trying to get me to answer, Arthur." The sorcerer replied. "I won't tell you!"

The two were silent.

"So, Arthur..." Merlin began. "What about you? What have you been up to? I heard about Uther..."

"Sorry Merlin, but unless you tell me your story, you won't hear mine." The king replied, a smile playing about the sides of his lips. Merlin just shook his head.

"I will tell you about the future, though." Arthur continued. "It will be a marvellous place. Camelot will prosper..."

"It will be hard to get there, Arthur" Merlin said, and the king nodded.

"I know. The kingdoms surrounding us, those who are unafraid of magic, will surely try and strike against us. None know that you are back; they think us undefended, weak, against magic at least. That's where I'll need your help..." Arthur trailed off. "You will help me, won't you Merlin? You'll help me protect Camelot? Help me to rule well?"

"Until I die, Arthur. For real, this time." Merlin looked Arthur directly in the eye. "From the day I became your servant, it has been my destiny to protect you. You may be the steel against steel, but I am the magic against magic. "

"I would want no one else for it." Arthur whispered, sincerity ringing in each syllable.

Merlin nodded deeply, and raised his head to the sky. The night was clear, the final rays of sunlight fading as the stars crept out of the darkness.

"Do you remember the last time we spoke?" He asked Arthur. "Before I was executed, I mean. You came into the dungeons and listened to me..."

The dungeon was cold and rank, the smell of mildew and rot permeating every corner of the tiny cell. Merlin was curled against the far wall, a ray of early morning sun cascading across his back, allowing him the slightest comfort of warmth.

He could hear the faint sounds of the courtyard, and knew they were preparing for his execution. The sounds of the guards outside his cell echoed faintly down to him, their joking manor cutting deeply into his heartbroken soul.

'That had once been Arthur and I' the boy though sadly. And suddenly, as if his thoughts had called him there, the Prince's voice echoed down to him.

"I'm here to see the prisoner," He said, authority etched into the very heart of the words he spoke. From the muffled replies he heard, Merlin assumed that they were hesitant to let Arthur into the cell. They eventually acquiesced, and moments later, Arthur walked into the small room.

Merlin soaked in the sight of him. To the casual observer, he looked no different to normal. But Merlin was no casual observer. He could see the slight crumple in the Prince's robes, the small patch of messy hair on his head and the deadened look in his weary eyes. It was strange to see him like this, and Merlin pondered if it was entirely his fault.

Arthur said nothing to him just stared down his nose at the sorcerer. It hurt deeply to see the look of utmost contempt reflected in the prince's eyes. It was all Merlin could do to stop himself from grabbing Arthur and shaking him until the hatred was replaced with anger. He stood, shakily.

"A- Arthur..." He said hoarsely, his throat dry from the lack of water he'd received. "I'm so, so sorry..."

"Your apologises won't save your life, sorcerer!" Arthur spat at him, and Merlin flinched.

"I know." He replied. "But I don't care. I had resigned myself to this fate the day I walked into Camelot. I just wanted you to know that I didn't want you to find out like this."

Arthur fell silent once again. He looked around the prison chamber, and seemed to bite down a comment. Instead, he turned and walked out of the cell, slamming the barred door closed on his way out.

Merlin sighed, and leant back against the wall. His eyes slid closed against his will. 'Arthur hates me.' He thought, and it cut him deep inside to even think it, let alone know that it was true.

His eyes sprung open against his will as the door to the cell opened once again. Arthur stood in the door way, holding a goblet of water. He held it out, and Merlin moved forward and took it in trembling hands.

He hadn't realised how thirsty he was until the water was in front of him. He drunk it greedily, great gulps that threatened to choke him. Before he knew it, the water was finished, and he was left holding an empty goblet. He offered it to Arthur, and the prince took it.

"Thank you," Merlin whispered. Arthur snorted condescendingly.

"It wouldn't do for a sorcerer to die alone in a cell. They deserve the worst fate there is." He snarled at the weary boy. Merlin said nothing, just slid slowly back to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

"You look pitiful, Merlin." Arthur stated with a hint of concern and pity. Merlin remained silent. "Do you have nothing to say, sorcerer?"

"I have many things to say," Merlin began, his voice still nothing more than a whisper, "But I have no wish to speak if no one will listen."

"I'm listening." Arthur replied and a brief smile flashed on Merlin's face.

"Very well then, Prince. Listen carefully although you may not wish to hear everything I have to say. I have a story to tell, a story of a Warlock." He began.

"It started in a place called Ealdor. The Warlock was nothing more than a baby, living with his mother. One night, she woke to her baby's cries and found that various objects in the room were floating around, circling the babe's crib. She had known of his power, as she knew his father had been a Dragonlord. But the amount of power he son had caused her to be stunned, and frightened.

This magic continued as her son grew, until eventually he could control it. It was his biggest secret, and he guarded it with all he had.

The Warlock had a friend, named Will, who eventually found out about his magic. The Warlocks mother was scared of the consequences and they were pushed apart fiercely. The Warlock was forced to leave his home, and travel to the grand kingdom of Camelot, where magic was outlawed.

On his first day in the city, he saw the penalty of using magic, and vowed to never reveal himself as a sorcerer. However, when the king's son was put in danger, he used his magic to save the prince's life. He was rewarded with becoming the prince's manservant, a position where using his magic would be a great danger.

But he did anyway. He used it to save the prince countless times. He used it to save the king as well, a king who would have him killed had he known of the magic that pumped through the boy's veins."

Arthur was facing Merlin now, curious. The sorcerer's throat was dry again, but he didn't dare to ask for more water, instead he continued his story.

"When the prince was bitten by a Questing Beast, the warlock went as far as to offer his own life to the High Priestess of the Old Religion to save the life of his master. His mother was nearly taken instead, then his mentor, until he was forced to kill the sorceress to keep the balance between life and death.

He was not deterred from his destiny, however, and continued to protect the prince. He met the father he had never known, the last of the Dragonlords, but had him taken away once more. So the Warlock was forced to embrace the ancient gift he inherited and saved Camelot from the Dragon, showing it mercy in return for it leaving the kingdom forever. But the Warlock told the prince that he had killed it, and allowed his master to take the credit.

There were several times when the boy was convinced that he could tell the prince his secret, but each time something happened to prove him wrong. And then, the day before he was finally going to, the unthinkable happened."

Merlin swallowed and massaged his neck. Arthur looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath and then continued.

"The king and the prince were attacked by to evil sorcerers, the complete opposite of the warlock. He was forced to reveal his secret to not only the prince, but the king and the entire court as well. He was immediately sentenced to death. And that is where his story ends."

The cell was silent. Arthur had turned away as Merlin finished his story, and Merlin had no more words to say, no more strength to say them.

"Tell me," Arthur began after several minutes' silence. "What did the sorcerer think of the prince? Did he think him a fool? A coward? A traitor, a liar? Did this 'warlock' think the prince untrustworthy?"

"No!" Merlin found his voice again. "Never. He thought them friends. He wanted nothing more than to trust the prince unconditionally."

"So why didn't he?" Arthur asked angrily.

"Because I've kept the secret all my life and... I couldn't risk it." Merlin whispered, dropping all pretence that they were talking about someone else. "More than that, I couldn't ask you choose between your father and me. After all, he is the king and I am but a servant."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration. The sounds in the courtyard grew louder, more cheerful, as if the world was taunting them for being unhappy. 'Here is life' it seemed to say. 'Here is what you are missing. Are you not sad? Don't you wish your life were this easy? Oh well, you can't have it.' Truthfully, Arthur wished for nothing more than to turn time backwards to a week ago and stop this all from happening. He knew he couldn't.

"You have saved me using your magic, Merlin, and the kingdom is thankful for that. Because of your magic you are going to be executed, and the kingdom is sorry for that. But if you cannot use your magic to save yourself, then I am sorry for that." Arthur said sadly, and he reached out briefly, touching Merlin's shoulder in a silent farewell before he spun on his heel to leave the dungeon.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled after him. "No matter what happens, I will always be watching out for you, watching out for Camelot. Remember that in years to come. Forgive me for my secrets, forgive my mistakes. But always know that I am protecting this city!"

Merlin fell silent as he watched the heavy doors of the cell swing shut. He felt numb, but his mind was spinning with ideas. A single tear fell from his eye.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for what you said, Arthur. I would have burnt to my death." Merlin admitted to the king. "I was scared. It had been such a shock that I hadn't even thought of using my magic to escape. I didn't really think that escape was worth it anyway. Where could I have gone? It brought me to my senses when you told me that you wanted me to save myself. It also gave me the courage to come back here."

"I truly thought you had died, Merlin. I had a dream that you were in Avalon, and I ordered you to return. When I met your brother, Emrys, and tried to convince him to heal my father, he told me knew what I had done. He told me that you would never return to Camelot, for the dead do not return." Arthur bit back laughter. "When you first walked back into the hall, I thought it was him, not you. I had given up hope in you, in my dreams that you were returning."

"Emrys is clever, and cunning." Merlin said, a hint of a smile on his face. "But I came back. And just so you know, Emrys is not my brother."

"He isn't?" Arthur questioned. "By why would he pretend to be?" Merlin shrugged his shoulders lightly, the universal gesture of I don't know, a smile playing on his face.

"Were you really watching Camelot all these years?" Arthur asked.

It was something he had always been curious about. There were many times when he remembered those words, many times when they had echoed through his head. He was constantly looking for Merlin in his seven years of absence, even though he hadn't been sure that the boy had lived. The small hope he had, however, kept him on the lookout.

"Of course." Merlin said. "I watched over the city at night, when I was asleep. I could see it in my dreams, as clearly as if I was there."

Silence fell. Arthur lifted his gaze to the darkened sky, and frowned.

"What's wrong Arthur?" Merlin inquired when he saw the king's face.

"It's not there." He replied. "The star."

"What star?" Merlin was curious, an idea brimming in his mind.

"There was this one star. Every morning and evening, as I watched the sun rise and set I could see it. It was gold, unlike those around it. I would wink at me. I felt safe when I looked at it. I felt at peace."

Merlin's lip twitched.

"It's rather strange actually," The king continued, without noticing. "I haven't seen it since you returned. But I still feel peaceful, content."

Merlin couldn't contain himself any longer. He burst into a roaring laughter. Arthur looked at him startled. The sorcerer was gasping for breath and as his laugher died out he brought in great pants of air.

"May I inquire exactly what it is that is so funny, Merlin?" Arthur asked, his old persona breaking through his new.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." Merlin managed to say. "I only thought you were more intelligent than that." Arthur looked at him puzzled. Merlin sighed. "Watch."

The sorcerer raised his hand to the sky and Arthur felt a strange thrill go through him. Despite him being back in Camelot for several months, Arthur had rarely seen Merlin doing magic directly. He saw the results often enough, but to be standing beside someone so powerful as they did magic was an incredible feeling.

The king watched as his friend's eyes shone gold and a stream of light burst out of the tips of his fingertips. Arthur's eyes followed the beam, and he gasped.

Shining down at him from where the beam had ended was a bright golden star. It winked at him, as it had every day for the seven years that Merlin had been gone. Stunned, he turned his gaze back to the sorcerer.

Merlin's eyes were out of focus, as if a veil was shrouding them. They were still golden, a colour Arthur had come to associate with Merlin and his magic.

"Lay a hand on my shoulder." Merlin's voice echoed into Arthur's head, and he did as it said. There was a painful flash of light behind his eyes and when his vision returned, what he saw took his breath away.

He was looking down on Camelot at night. He could see the flickering lights of candles as the lit houses and brighter lights of fires burning in their hearths. He could make out the shadows of the city's guards as they patrolled its fearsome walls. Ever shadow, every slight movement, was amplified by this new magical Sight.

He found himself being lead away from the sight of the city, towards the grave where he and Merlin were still standing. He could see their faces turned up to look at the sky and it was startling to look at himself from outside of his body. What shocked him, though, was the golden light shining from his eyes as well as Merlin's.

The Sight faded, and Arthur found himself back inside his body. He turned to look at Merlin, and saw his eyes returned to normal. The king felt his face breaking into a grin and it grew larger as an accompanying one spread upon his friend's face as well.

"That was incredible! It was so beautiful, so amazing!" Arthur was lost for more words to describe the Sight. "I never knew that magic could be so beautiful."

"I learn more about it every day." Merlin said. "There are so many beautiful things to see through magic, Arthur. So many beautiful things I can show you with magic, things that magic can do."

"I know that now. I'm sorry for not seeing it before." Arthur spoke regretfully. "I had only ever known magic to be something to destroy, something evil. It's more than that. It creates too."

"Congratulations, King Arthur." The sorcerer said. "You are well and truly on the right path."

Arthur smiled, and slung an arm around Merlin's shoulders. He steered them back to face the castle, and the two friends laughed to themselves as they returned home.

Behind them, a bright light shone from Merlin's tombstone, as the words carved on it were wiped away, and new words carved in their place.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wish'd) a friend.

And so it ends.

I'm almost crying after writing the end. Not with sadness, but with calmness, I guess.

I'd really love some reviews for this story, even if it's just to say 'what on Earth took you so long'. So please review!

Ari

:P