Arthur gazed down at the crowd, hunched over, resting his hands against the castle roof's wall. Merlin stood, as usual, at his side, back straight, with his arms behind him. He glanced, repeatedly and anxiously, between his friend and the courtyard, where some men were cleaning up after the latest execution. The prince was looking in the same direction without seeing anything.

"Arthur…what do you think of all this?"

Arthur sighed, bowing his head for a moment before pushing himself up to stand tall beside his friend.

"I…I'm not sure he deserved to die. He used magic to save his sister's child. That just…doesn't seem evil to me."

"So…" Merlin prodded. "You don't think all magic is evil?"

Arthur said nothing, but his eyes were clearly clouded in doubt.

"Arthur," Merlin began, his body turned towards him, leaning to his side. "I've been asked, at least…a dozen, or so, times, if I trust you. Do you know what my answer is, always, without fail?"

Arthur eyed Merlin sideways, even more perplexed than he had been a moment before. "Yes?"

Merlin grinned. "Yes, Arthur. I tell them, without hesitation, that I trust you –with my life."

The look adorning Arthur's face expressed his confusion, wondering where this line of conversation would end. When Merlin remained silent, Arthur nodded impatiently.

"And I, you. Your point, Merlin?"

Merlin glanced downwards, smacking his lips anxiously. Then, before he could change his mind, he whispered, "I'm a warlock."

Arthur did a double-take, staring wide-eyed at Merlin, with his jaw hanging open.

"You're…what?" he exclaimed.

Merlin pursed his lips and nodded.

"But…Merlin," Arthur stammered. "My father…do you know what sort of position you just put me in? Friend to a sorcerer…"

Merlin smirked and shook his head. "Not sorcerer. Warlock. Want to know the difference?"

"No," Arthur spat instantly. After a moment of scowling, he continued, "What?"

"Sorcerer's learn magic. They choose to, from the beginning. A warlock –like me—is born with it."

Arthur turned his neck to gaze at him incredulously. "You mean…you had no choice in the matter to begin with?"

Merlin shook his head, innocence painted over his face.

"But…you do have the choice of whether or not to use it, right, Merlin?"
Merlin shrugged. "For the most part. But in the most desperate situations, it just…happens."

Once again, Arthur gazed before him without seeing anything.

"And…when you do choose to use it?"

"It's to save your royal backside, prat," Merlin teased, elbowing his friend. Arthur chuckled and Merlin knew things would be all right.

"I do trust you," Merlin whispered. "It's why I'm telling you."

"And I trust you," Arthur replied, completely serious. "Which is why I won't tell my father."

Merlin broke into a grin, letting out a small chuckle of relief.

"That's…thank you, sire. You won't regret it."

He turned to walk away with a cheery swing to his step. Turning just his neck, Arthur called after him over his shoulder.

"Merlin?"

The warlock spun around instantly. "Yes, sire?"

Turning fully, Arthur regarded his manservant.

"I don't suppose you could use this in a way that would cause you to actually be on time in the morning."

"Don't you think that if I could, I would have by now?"

The two friends shared a grin as Arthur shook his head.

"I'll see you in the morning, Merlin."

The warlock gave a nod. "Bright and early," he agreed.

Arthur turned back to gaze at the now cleared courtyard, reliving what had happened there within the past hour with a new perspective. Shaking his head, he chuckled.

"Yeah, right."