TITLE: Sometimes, you cannot see what is hiding in the light

AUTHOR: finn1013

SUMMARY: Merlin was upset, and Arthur couldn't work out why. AU to 5.5. No slash.

RATING: K+

DISCLAIMER: Merlin is not mine.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I do intend for this to be a one shot, but I might expand on it if you're interested.

Arthur wasn't completely obtuse, not all the time.

And it wasn't a singular event that made all the cards finally fall into place. Although, truth be told, he wasn't even completely positive he had figured it out correctly.

But ... the thing was ... Merlin had cried.

At first, Arthur had disregarded the odd niggling at the back of his mind. He'd been too relieved by Mordred's survival to give more than a passing thought to his manservant's continued glum mood. Yet Mordred was alive, Merlin was still upset, and Arthur couldn't work out why.

He pondered for quite some time. He thought about it constantly throughout the feast that celebrated Mordred's recovery, an event his manservant was conspicuously absent from. He tossed and turned in bed each night until he gave up on sleep and retreated to a chair by the unlit fire. He decided his time was better put to use catching up on paperwork instead of training for a few days after his distraction (and it was because of that and only that) allowed Gwaine to floor him twice.

He brooded, and wondered when he'd allowed his friend to become such a menace to his peace of mind; why did Merlin's obvious unhappiness also affect him so much? He wondered ...

How had Merlin known the cave was sacred? Arthur would never admit aloud to dwelling for so long on anything Merlin had said, but he knew his friend well enough to know Merlin's response to his question although odd and weird and peculiar, was in a way also completely normal, when it came out of Merlin's mouth.

And it was also completely genuine; Merlin had really felt all this life he spoke about and was surprised that Arthur did not. How did a person feel such a thing, how could a person feel such a thing?

And Merlin had cried.

Arthur leant back wearily in his chair, tossing his pen back on the table, and waited.

A knock. "You wanted to see me, sire?" Mordred shut the door quietly behind him.

"I was wondering, back there ... did you feel it?"

"Sire?" Mordred was confused.

Arthur pushed his chair aside, walking around the edge of the desk and sitting half on the corner of the table. "Could you feel it? You're a druid, did you feel it? The life around the cave?"

"Ah." Mordred was thoughtful, and then he nodded, slowly. "I see. It's a place of importance to the old religion, but you know that. It's said some people may .. they may feel more, that the sun shines more brightly to them in such a place, that they sense the world's joy there. That life can be complete." He paused. "But sire, surely you didn't ... ?"

"No, no. Not at all. I felt nothing." Arthur cleared his throat and added briskly, "The court physician has informed me of such places. I merely wondered what you knew about them, given your background, that's all."

Mordred said quietly, "I have not lived as a druid for almost half my life now, sire. I live in the world of men." And then eyes downcast, he looked away.

Arthur still couldn't sleep, because Merlin had cried.

And it'd been nothing to do with Mordred's possible demise.

Merlin had been completely miserable during the whole conversation about sorcery, he hadn't even been able to manage one of those silly grins he used a lot of the time when he wanted to put Arthur off track.

Do we accept magic, or let Mordred die?

Merlin had cried. But why?

Later that night, by the campfire as they waited to speak with the Disir, Merlin had tossed and turned. Arthur had lain still on his bedroll feigning slumber and even managing the odd half-snore as his mind raced in circles, but he'd almost been shocked out of his act when he heard Merlin's choked-off sob and gasping breath, quickly stifled. Arthur's heart had pounded violently, and his breath had caught tight in a lump in his throat; when he'd dared to crack one eye open Merlin's bedroll had been empty.

He hadn't come back until shortly before dawn.

And Arthur had pretended he was still asleep.

Why had Merlin cried?

For a long time now, Arthur has puzzled over Merlin's odd attitude towards Mordred. Merlin's anger You should have killed him when you had the chance has never been repeated. Yet he's never really warmed to the knight. He's polite, but ... Arthur thinks cautious would be the right description.

And Arthur ponders. He thinks it's possible that Merlin has magic, because he doesn't like Mordred, and he cried.

It's late, but he makes his way to Gaius's chambers.

He has to see Merlin. And he's not sure if his two and two is making four or five.

...cont'd...