Welcome to Chapter 2, which would not have been possible without your support! It is again my hope, not my expectatation, so I apologize in advance if anyone's OOC or over-dramatic. And I still don't own Merlin. On another note, I was blown away - I was MOVED by the number of reviews my first chapter got, and knew if I did not write this I would be a despicable human being. And so, thank you a thousand times to all my reviewers and favoriters and alterters - and here is your reward!

Arthur stared. And then he let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Merlin, you choose the strangest times to joke . . ."

"I'm serious," said Merlin, staring back into Arthur's face with such intensity that Arthur was taken aback. "I'm a sorcerer. I've kept in from you –" he took another steadying breath— "all this time."

Arthur laughed all the harder. "Merlin, this is hilarious, but this really isn't the time . . ." It had to be a joke, no matter how serious Merlin looked. It had to be, otherwise . . .

Part of Merlin was tempted to join in Arthur's laugh, agree it was a joke, and figure out some other way to get this poor boy off the hook. But he couldn't stop now that he had started. He couldn't succumb to his fear.

"Do you want me to prove it?" Merlin demanded, looking almost angry at Arthur's laughter. "I'll prove it!"

"Merlin . . ." Arthur said, his eyes curving into a look of pity, "it's really . . . noble, what you're trying to do, to save this kid. I remember when you did the same to try and save Guinevere, when there was that plague in the water. But she wasn't really a sorcerer . . ."

"And would you condemn her if she was?" demanded Merlin.

"Well, or course not! I love her! I trust her, and there is no evil in her heart!" Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying Guinevere is the sorcerer that I trust?"

"No, you dollop head, I said I AM!"

"Merlin, there's no way you're a sorcerer. What kind of an idiot do you take me for?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Merlin was seriously angry now. Why did Arthur refuse to believe him? Couldn't he just think back a bit and realize how much sense it would make? Was there really no way to get Arthur to believe him other than proof? His face fell from anger to gloomy disappointment. So much for trust . . .

"Merlin," Arthur said after a long moment, watching his friend's eyes turn sad again, "come on. You're tired, and you're upset, and you feel bad for that kid. Anyone would." He gave a smile, punched Merlin's arm encouragingly. "Just – just pull yourself together."

"Do you trust me, Arthur?" Merlin asked softly, keeping his blue eyes fixed on the ground.

"Of course I do, Merlin!" Arthur kept his smile in place. He despised having to deal with a melancholy Merlin. It was well worth being nice to him for five minutes in order to pull him out of a stupor. But it was hard for him to tell what this one was really about.

"Then please take me seriously. Let me prove I'm a sorcerer. You want proof, Arthur?"

"All right," Arthur said, with an air of humoring him, his smile never departing his lips, "go ahead and prove it."

Merlin smiled. "Let me show you the magic light show I used to entertain my girlfriend."

Arthur watched as Merlin raised his face and his right hand, prepared to meet his blue eyes with Merlin's. "You have a girl—" he began mockingly, but then he stopped, because Merlin's eyes were no longer blue.

In amazement, Arthur watched as every candle in the hall fluttered. And then every flame on every candle left its wick, floated smoothly through the air, and joined in a dance with all the other flames, spinning and swerving before finally, each settled back onto a candle a resumed their normal flickering.

Arthur slowly turned back to Merlin, who quickly dropped his arm, and whose eyes flashed back to blue. Not daring to look back into Arthur's face, he panted, sunk to the ground, and said softly, "Now you know."

And at long last, Arthur believed him. Arthur knew. And he had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. He felt a thousand different emotions warring in his chest, fighting to come to his lips. Anger was among them, but so was pity. So was honor. Louder and more overpowering than any other, though, was a voice in his mind that screamed, "Arthur Pendragon, how could you be such an idiot?"

Arthur pulled the chair from behind him and sat down in it. Merlin still refused to meet his eyes, and their silence had been too long. Arthur knew it was his turn to say something. But his voice seemed to have been sucked away in the sheer shock, the sheer impossibility, and yet the sheer obviousness of Merlin's magic.

"Merlin . . ." he finally said, and was at a loss as to how to continue. How could you keep this from me? Thanks for never killing me? How did you manage to keep this from me? How do I keep missing things that are so obvious?

"Don't, Arthur!" said Merlin in a strangled voice. His head was bowed and he had put up one of his hands – in a defensive gesture. He was cowering before Arthur. In fear of him.

"How could . . . why did you not tell me?" He sounded more amazed than angry.

"How could I tell you?"

Fair point, Arthur conceded. And as he watched his best friend cowering, shivering, probably hiding tears of fear before him, Arthur's heart forgot its tiny vestiges of anger and instead swelled with shame. Merlin was afraid of him. Arthur had made it come to this, with his ping-ponging views on magic, with his admiration of his father, with his will to appear strong; Arthur had made himself this hard for his best friend to trust. Arthur could not blame Merlin for being hesitant to tell him. He wondered if, in Merlin's place, even he would have the nerve . . .

"Please trust me, Arthur, that I would never hurt you, never hurt Camelot, with my powers. Please trust me, Arthur. Please keep your promise!" Merlin pleaded. Though his head was still bowed, his tears were rather obvious in his voice now, but Arthur didn't have the heart to mock him for them.

He shelved all his shock. He shelved all of his pride, all his anger, all his own fear and doubts and wonders. Now was not the time for such things. Now Merlin needed a friend.

"I do and I will, Merlin," Arthur said firmly. He finally stood, knelt down to Merlin's level and said, as kindly as he could muster, "Thank you for telling me this."

"You – you're not -? You won't -?" Merlin began raising his head slightly, but still not quite daring to look back at Arthur.

Arthur laughed softly. "And all this time I thought it was just some self-deluding joke about you saving me all the time . . ."

At long last, Merlin raised his tear-streaked face to look up hopefully into the cheerful blue eyes of the King of Camelot. He was giving Merlin a radiant smile.

"Stand up, Merlin," Arthur said, offering the cowering warlock his hand. But even the motion of moving his hand forward seemed to frighten Merlin, who flinched backward instinctively. "Merlin, I swore not to hurt the sorcerer you showed to me. Do you doubt the word of Arthur Pendragon?"

This was all too much for Merlin; he had always hoped, and tried to imagine this moment, but he'd never honestly believed or expected that Arthur would be so kind, so accepting when this moment came. He could not help but dissolve in happy tears. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Arthur . . . I'm sorry . . ."

"I'm sorry, too," said Arthur, watching Merlin's tears with a combination of mockery, pity, and fondness, "sorry I gave you reason to doubt me, that I didn't realize and let it come to this. Merlin, stand with me."

The two of them stood together, Merlin on extremely shaky legs, but Arthur supported him. They just studied each other for a moment, grinning stupidly. Then Arthur pulled a face. "I suppose I'll have to," he muttered, before heaving an exaggerated sigh and taking Merlin in a tight embrace, "since you're such a girl."

That being completed, and reducing Merlin once again a flood of elated tears, Arthur thumped him on the arm and began to lead him out of the room, saying as he went, "Cheer up, Merlin. You just changed the law!"

There was only so much Arthur could handle of emotional displays, and in a few minutes' time, he thoroughly regretted telling Jonathan and his loved ones that he was off the hook. They had all dissolved in tears yet again, and run to gratefully embrace him, so he quickly deferred them to Merlin, who seemed to have no objection to their affection, by saying, "Thank Merlin, not me. He's the one who convinced me."

As Merlin was buried in hugs, Arthur took great pleasure in snidely dismissing the accusing merchant. He felt happier and lighter than he had all day, and was just wondering if he ought to tell Gwen the news or if he was more in the mood for spending an hour with his knights, when the young blonde barmaid whose taste for magical entertainment had set this whole situation into motion, tapped him on the shoulder.

"King Arthur! King Arthur, Sire!" she said urgently. "I think we smothered him!" She was looking to her left, where Jonathan and his parents were kneeling beside an unconscious Merlin, trying to wake him up.

Arthur shook his head with a smile, easily picking up Merlin and slinging him over his shoulder. "What was I saying?" he said cheerily. "Such a girl."

"Will he be all right?" asked Jonathan concernedly. He seemed to have taken greatly to Merlin in the last five minutes.

Arthur smiled down at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about him. And don't worry about anything. You're a free man."

And as he turned away, Jonathan glowed with admiration, wrapped an arm around the barmaid, stroking her curly golden locks and strode away with her into the sunlight of a free Camelot.

Merlin was rather embarrassed when he woke up to realize he'd been hugged into submission, and he realized just as quickly that it was something Arthur would not soon let him forget. What Arthur seemed more interested in, however, was hearing the stories of how Merlin had used his magic over the years. And so, with Merlin wrapped in blanket in at Gaius's table, eating soup, Arthur had turned it into a game of recounting the number of insane coincidences that had occurred on their numerous adventures - and never before had Merlin said "Yeah, that was me," so many times.

"The fire that lit when the Jarl was making Gwaine and I fight?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"The rockslide when you were hurt and those mercenaries were coming at me?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"The tornado thing that ultimately saved Ealdor?"

"Yeah, that was me."

"Blimey, do I feel useless!"

Merlin laughed. "Don't worry, Arthur. You've save me lots of times, too. It's not like I've kept count of how many times I saved you."

"But it's a lot!"

"True."

"It's an ungodly amount!"

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "Imagine being saved by a girl that many times!"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, you just said I was a girl for being hugged into submission . . ."

They both laughed. "Did you know I also disguised myself as that old sorcerer called Dragoon the Great?" They spoke for many hours of Merlin's various magical interventions in their adventures, and by the time Leon arrived to tell Arthur that knights were wondering where he was, he was thoroughly humbled.

"Well – well, I just – thank you, again, Merlin. I swear I'll never call you useless again!" Arthur vowed as he stood to leave and follow Leon.

Merlin looked unconvinced. "And you wonder why I doubt the word of Arthur Pendragon?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

It was a new day. Merlin was standing awkwardly, dressed in a long robe that Arthur thought made him look like a sorcerer, at the head of the crowded hall beside the King and Queen.

Arthur was speaking to the people and officially dissolving the ban on magic and welcoming all sorcerers as respected members of society. Merlin almost broke down in happy tears again at this moment, but Gwen sympathetically stroked his arm and he was able to hold them back.

"You may now walk as free men and women, without fear or resentment, and equal to any man in Camelot," Arthur was saying. Gaius, in the front row, was glowing with pride and watching Merlin stifle his tears with difficulty. "And it is all thanks to this man."

Arthur held out his arm and Merlin stepped nervously forward to join the king. "Merlin," Arthur told everyone, "who has saved this nation and myself more times than anyone cares to know, and now has helped to set you free. My people, know him now!"

The people cheered, Gwaine probably the loudest. Merlin was shaking slightly again, and staring deliberately into Gaius's face, which echoed his own happiness, with magnifying pride.

And then Arthur bowed. Merlin had never truly expected it to happen. He had rehearsed the words of the ceremony, but never the actions; indeed, there had been a long debate about giving Merlin some sort of official title, but in the end they had decided against it. Everyone in the hall followed Arthur's lead, and Merlin found himself standing high and alone among a sea of genuflecting figures. And all they said was –

"LONG LIVE MERLIN!"

The End.

YAY! The supposed 'drama' of this chapter soon dissolved into silliness and banter and fluff! Sorry about that, and for my obligatory Freya reference (because Merlin/Freya is my OTP forever.) Also sorry if anyone's OOC, but as I say, these are my hopes! I want my poor, beloved Merlin to be loved and happy and recognized, dangit! I want him to have an awesome scene of being recognized for his awesomeness to the same degree as Arthur and Gwen are! That's why have that last scene – sort of a 'kneel before Frodo' moment, where the meek little serving-boy is finally given the honor he deserves. I realized this could have ended about five different times, and thus apologize for what might be ending fatigue, I just really wanted to cover all bases and feel complete, as this is now the definitive end. Thank you again for reading and supporting my work. You're freaking awesome! I'm thinking of writing more Merlin fics now (probably involving Freya) . . .

. . . Also, drop me more reviews if you would be so kind! They are beautiful things! Thanks again!