Merlin didn't bother to explain as the sword stopped, the power surged and everything fell into place. Arthur looked up slowly. Blonde tilting through light and shadow, hair by hair, follicle by follicle until clear blue eyes stared down the point of a magically floating sword and the sound of Morgana sinking onto a blunt knife echoed through the room. Fire stopped burning inches from his face and as Arthur watched the flames dance and twirl lifting up and into the air away from him, he saw nothing but the whole of his life in one instant. The return to the present stole his breath and made everything silent.

But then the fire cleared, the sword dropped and pretty blue eyes met glowing orange-gold fearful, terrified and unable to stop.

Stop it, Merlin thought. He tried, but the surge was too much, then words were coming from his lips. Dragon's tongue directed to Aithusa, so confused and scared, voiceless. He didn't blame her with Albion's supposed King kneeling in the center of this magical maelstrom. He didn't blame her with the horror that Sarrum had subjected her to.

Stop it, he thought once more but he couldn't with those eyes looking at him, with too much happening at once. The fire stopped flowing at his command, but it was too late it was all coming out at once, an ebbing wave of energy lurched out of him. The cut on Arthur's face stitched closed, Aithusa relaxed in the ebbing and Morgana lay dead spilling out all the last moments over her life through the room. He couldn't take it, he didn't have any control over this… Not yet. Not yet. Not… yet.

Arthur didn't believe it as the sword clanged to the ground and those orbs that were usually blue returned from their powerful and glowing orange-gold. The chamber was silent, and at first glance the soil walls were covered in moss and life, roots struggled through soil and another forms of life sprouted. There was a soft scraping across the now mossy floor as the white form shuffled towards Merlin, nudging his leg in familiarity. A hand rested on top of its head and Merlin breathed. Then blue eyes locked together and he could feel the memories returning. All the little things that he hadn't noticed, Merlin's weird ability to feel the life of a place, the other small things, the tears of that night, what it must have felt to condemn himself as not a part of Camelot after everything he's done for Arthur... even without his magic. Arthur shuddered to think of what happened when he accounted for the fact that apparently Merlin was a sorcerer...

He found strength to stand as Merlin seemed to find no strength to move, just watching Arthur rise to his feet. Mordred was somewhere near, halfway cowering in a corner staring awe-struck at Merlin. While a powerful Druid, he'd never imagined that the Emrys would be this powerful. He hadn't expected this moment, he hadn't expected to be present for this moment as Arthur stood and Merlin did not move though Aithusa cowered behind him.

A Dragonlord? Isn't that overkill? Mordred thought for a moment but then Arthur was walking closer to Merlin and every Druid part still left him began to rise and scream. Run! Run! Protect Emrys…, but he couldn't move—held in the tumultuous balance of that moment.

"Emrys…" Morgana whispered with her fading breath. Merlin did not spare her a glance, though they were sure that Arthur heard her words. "You…. Emrys…"

They stood staring. Merlin realized that terror and hope was a heady brew. It was sort like a racing feeling where his insides felt like butter and apples all churning together, twisting while water rushed through rivers under the skin. He was hot and cold all over and he could feel Aithusa trembling behind him.

"Is there… something you'd like to say to me, Merlin?"

Merlin didn't say anything, swallowing hard and blinking. His stomach churned again and he felt like he was going to be sick, but he couldn't tell, he didn't know. He didn't know if it was just a matter of fight or flight, he didn't know anything, but that he'd been exposed and Arthur's face was glowing at one side.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me Merlin?"

Again there was no answer but Arthur raised his hand, sword in it and prepared to slice down, meeting with a barrier of resistance and glowing eyes. He could see there was no sense of Merlin himself in the moment, just an automatic response to his life being threatened. He didn't think that Merlin had the capacity to think in this moment, but there were tears coursing down his cheeks, dripping into green and sprouting life on the soil floor. The sword was wrested from Arthur's hands and appeared once more in Merlin's hand as he began to back away. Arthur couldn't move trapped beyond the force field that Merlin projected.

"IS THERE SOMETHING YOU'D LIKE TO SAY TO ME, SORCERER?!"

"Ithi," he said in some hoarse command. The tiny white form crept towards the exit and Merlin followed close behind. Arthur could hear his footsteps and beating of huge wings before he was freed and rushing after Merlin. But there was nothing but the gust of wind sweeping across the ground and up. Excalibur stood prone in the dirt as Merlin watched his best friend soar off on the back of a Dragon. Mordred came out behind him, breathing a little easier and not saying anything.

"S-Sire?"

"Not a word of this to anyone when we return…"

Mordred swallowed and nodded, following his king towards the horses that stood patiently waiting for their riders and mounting, heading back to Camelot. When they arrived, Gwaine was the first to notice Merlin's absence.

"Where's Merlin?" HE asked.

Arthur looked at the man with a blank look and looked away, "I don't know. We were separated."

The knights frowned and glanced between one another. Separation wouldn't explain their presence there. It wouldn't explain their King's expression or Mordred's. Separation wouldn't explain it, but it didn't seem that death was the answer as the boy's body was not strewn across the back of the third horse. The horse with no rider, not even a dead one. So what had happened? Gwaine had a twisting feeling in his stomach, one that he was not particularly prepared for.

Had Merlin been found out? Captured maybe?

"Get to Gaius, Mordred and take a rest. Me-…" He stopped himself realizing that the young man was not there. "Get the horses to the stables."

Another servant appeared to lead the horses away, all three of them. Percival took Mordred to Gaius's chambers to be checked.

"Where's Merlin?"

Mordred bit his lip as Percival shook his head. He didn't know. Luckily, Percival was called away and Mordred had the chance to explain the events to Gaius. He listened patiently and sighed.

"But… he is alright? And Morgana?"

"Dead…she's dead for good. As for Merlin, I'm not… really sure."

"From what you've told me… I'm not really sure either. You're sure he was out of control?"

"Not… out of control… there was just… a lot… so much at one time… too many splits in his power…It was like a gateway had been opened and Merlin was looking into something beyond him, but it wasn't out of control. There was purpose to it. He healed Arthur, healed me...stopped the Dragon's fire..."

The door opened and Arthur Pendragon stepped through looking grave, his eyes narrowed on the pair conversing at a far side of the room. The door closed and the two realized that Arthur had heard them talking about it.

"You knew?" He asked walking in and locking the door behind him. His voice was low and dangerous looking between the two.

"Sire—"

"I demand answers! What the hell is going on?!"

Mordred swallowed looking up at him, Gaius took a seat with a sigh.

"Merlin… Merlin is…"

"He has magic," he said. "For how long has he been learning magic? Was it you who taught him that?"

Gaius shook his head, "There… is no way for me to teach Merlin anything… Not only do I not possess magic any longer, but… Merlin's powers are far too great, far too natural to be schooled by anything I may have learned."

He looked at Mordred who would not meet his eyes, "And you… you… a Druid… have you been helping Merlin to learn sorcery?"

"Emrys does not need to be taught," Mordred replied. "Only guided."

"Emrys…" Arthur repeated. That same word that Morgana had breathed on her last breath with a terror and shock that had chilled him. "What… does that mean? Merlin is a bloody idiot."

"To be quite frank sire, you owe Merlin your life at least a hundred times over. You… and the whole of Camelot. He is a lot more intelligent that you give him credit for, after all has he not concealed his powers from most people in the kingdom until now?"

Arthur scoffed, pacing. His armor was silent, his chainlink tinkled with contact as it all stirred around in his mind. Gaius was up shuffling towards the pile of books as Arthur continued to pace.

"What on Earth is this Emrys? How long has Merlin had magic and what do you meant I owe him my life?"

"Sire…Merlin… is among the rare number of people to be born with magic."

He didn't see a reason not to tell all since Arthur apparently knew enough. Mordred sighed.

"Much like myself, Emrys… Merlin has lived having magic his entire life. Emrys, in the language of my people, means "immortal"."

Arthur scoffed, "Are you saying that Merlin is immortal?"

"It is… a possibility. Though not likely. What we meant to say is that Merlin's destiny has been infinitely awaited, Merlin himself is the key to Albion."

"Albion?"

He'd heard the term as a child from some old Druid folklore. Albion the restored kingdom, the reuniting of all the kingdoms under one ruler where peace, prosperity, and magic were possible. His father had told him that this Albion was a dangerous place, the folktale of peace was nothing but a myth. He dreamed about it sometimes, in secret. A world of peace without war and prosperity... A Golden Age...

"Where is he?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know…there aren't anymore Dragon Lords to find him around that we know of."

"What?"

"Dragon…Lord?"

"Yes, Merlin is a Dragon Lord."

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

"What the bloody hell else have I been kept in the dark about?!"

"You would have had him killed if you knew… if anyone other than…"

"Other than who? Other than who?"

Mordred sighed, "Gwaine knows…"

"What?"

"Gwaine knows about Merlin's powers…Lancelot knew…"

"Explain this to me, what the hell is an Emrys?"

"I've already told you all I know—"

Mordred interrupted the old man, standing at the sound of the world, pulled to his feet in defense of what could possibly be his future, "Not an Emrys, the Emrys… The wizard's whose fate is bound up with the One and Future King… that would be you, Arthur. He is the one to lead you to your destiny and protect you on your journey to it."

Arthur scoffed, "Merlin? Lead me? Merlin? That bumbling idiot lead me?! Protect me?"

"He did save your life today twice: from the dragon and from Morgana and killed her."

Arthur seemed to deflate a little. There was no doubt that Merlin had magic… magic enough to stop a dragon, to kill Morgana and to stop his attack… how much more he wasn't sure. Upon his memory, the cave had been barren when they went in and now flourished with life before he was chasing after Merlin for an explanation. Defeated, and not sure what else to do he ordered the two of them not to run, it would only make him angry and if he had more questions he just needed to know who to ask.

Guinevere looked up as he entered the room and stood to meet him at the door.

"Where is Merlin?"

How the hell was he supposed to know? He couldn't answer her, walking around her to collapse heavily onto their bed. He stopped himself from calling for Merlin to undo his armor and undid his own. It was an odd thing, it was the second time since the incident that he'd almost called for someone who was not there because of him. Guinevere sat beside him and stroked his hair, hugging him in quiet and letting him breathe and be comforted. At least this relationship wasn't complicated. He was sure that Guinevere wasn't practicing magic or was secretly a gnome or something.

"You're not secretly a faerie or something are you?"

Guinevere snorted and pushed him back, "Why yes ARthur... I actually sprout my wings and shrink while you sleep..."

Arthur huffed at her sarcasm, "What's wrong?"

Arthur sighed and fumbled through an explanation. She listened carefully until he was finished and then shook her head.

"I'm a little ashamed of your ARthur..."

His eyes gaped at her.

"You know Merlin, he's been here for years by your side, always loyalty... I don't blame him for running away. I only hope that he feels like he can come back and be safe."

Aithusa lay her head on Merlin's lap as he stroked her scales and Kilgarrah paced back and forth not saying anything in the quiet mountain space they were in. It was quite and peaceful and cold her realized, but it was a place to think. What had he done? What on Earth had happened? He'd never felt like that before… His magic had never like that before.

"As you grow older Merlin, your powers will grow." Kilgarrah said. "Do not be afraid of it."

"I know that… but it isn't… that's not what happened… It felt… like a reflex."

"Arthur was in danger…."

"It was more than that. It was… much more than that all of it bottled inside, but it was controlled like it was someone else, but it was me I-….I don't know… too much happened at once and now Arthur knows… Dear God… and Mordred… ad Gaius… what will Arthur do to them?"

"It is hard to say Emrys, the future is not certain."

"Well what…" he sighed again, breathing easy. "I have to go back…"

Aithusa made another sound looking up at him.

"What? What do you mean go back? Merlin, though young Arthur has come far, that does not mean that he is far enough to not have you killed."

"I have to believe in him… isn't that the point of our destinies being mixed up together?"

Kilgarrah didn't agree, but Merlin didn't care making sure to leave Aithusa within his care once more.

"Don't lose her this time…" he said as he began the trek back to Camelot. He recognized the border easily, but it didn't take long to run into a patrol.

"STOP!"

And he was surrounded, his hands were up and they descended on him, recognizing him instantly and packing him towards the palace to be dealt with by the King. He was marched through the city, he half expected a stake to be prepared for him already, but he was being led into the palace, into the throne room where Arthur and Guinevere were, accompanied by Gaius, Mordred, and Gwaine. The guards threw him to his knees and left him, locking the room behind him and standing guard.

"Merlin," Arthur greeted, but Merlin said nothing only standing with a deep breath.

Whatever is to come, is to come he supposed and at the moment there was nothing that he could do about it. He glanced at Gaius who looked fearful. Guinevere had the expression of someone who had a rough night. He thought of the time that she had been turned into a deer and almost killed by Arthur and his almost married Mithian. She looked like that then as well. And Lancelot as a Shade… the drama, the rebellion, the recapturing of Camelot. Everything, getting her together with Arthur… It was always a moment of elation to see them sitting together on the thrones as they should be. Even now that feeling didn't go away.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?"

His nose twitched and he felt his face heat up, damn he hated that sentence. Did he have to be so damned useless? So damned pretentious about it? He would have rather been drug to the stake or to the dungeon,than questioned there. Flogged even as a servant running away, left alone, murdered on the spot or asked flat out for an explanation. He didn't feel there was one that he could that wouldn't already be obvious. Arthur had seen it all, all of it, what was the point of this moment now?

"Merlin, is there something you'd like—"

"You're a bloody prat!" He said finally, breaking the tension in his heart as it thudded hard against his chest and the image of himself on the stake rushed closer to the forefront of his mind. If he was to be killed he would die fighting and screaming and being the same person that he'd always been. He'd go out telling the truth for once. Merlin had a lot to say.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" Merlin mocked, impersonating Arthur perfectly. "There are a lot of things I'll say to you and very few of them you'll like. Your father was a bigot and you've very narrowly avoided following in his place. You're the most difficult person to keep alive in the history of the bleeding world , Old and New Religion. I don't blame the Tripple Goddess for being cross with you, you damn well deserve it being of magic yourself to persecute those who have it. For not understanding that magic is not inherently evil, nor good, it just is and whether you like or not even if you managed to kill every person that had magic, destroy all the artifacts and sterilize the world, magic will still exist. So go on, kill me. Kill me for having magic, kill me for it. Kill me for being born this way, kill me for it like you've done plenty others! You're no better than your father I suppose."

"My father was a great king—"

"He was a murderer of millions of people. He almost murdered Gwen, me, you, Percival and who knows what else he would have done if you didn't send him back over getting over your need to make his proud! He was a total arse and I for one regret ever saving his life. Magic didn't tear this land apart, people with a greed for power tore it a part. Your father didn't persecute because he thought magic was evil, no! He turned on magic because he didn't know the extent of it. He didn't understand it, he approached it like a tool rather than a part of nature, existence, life… He didn't understand it, and thus he was screwed over by it. I can't tell you how many times I've had to save your arse because someone hated your father, how many times I've had to save you from your own ignorance…."

Arthur listened to this rant of the years Merlin has lived with it. His eyes were glowing, the flames flickered, sunlight bended, the flowers in the vase were flourishing, everything felt alive around him as Merlin spoke and it was all flowing out of him tears of the anguish and terror of living in this castle while knowing that one slip could have sent him to the stake, if for one moment he didn't watch himself, the pain of self-regulation… He could see it in his eyes how much it hurt to have said that magic had no place in Camelot, that he had no place in Camelot despite all the things he's done.

"You have no idea what it's like to save the man that wants you dead for being born with this power. No idea what it is to run from the guards as an old man, to see people die in front of you and knowing that if you saved them you would be killed yourself. YOU HAVE NO IDEA the pain you've put people like me and Mordred through, the self-loathing that comes with living with something everyone says is evil, yet you can't escape from it. You have no idea! And you don't even care, and that' s what pisses me off the most. So yes, I have something I'd like to say to you. Go to hell!"

His breath came in heavy pants breathing in and out as the surge calmed itself, the flowers stopped climbing the wall, the room settled and he felt himself again. That had never happened either, but he'd never had an emotional maelstrom except for when he was kid. He felt like that again, but now it was over. Everything that he'd wanted to say had been said to that man on the throne that was standing. Guinevere looked floored, shocked, and a little sad looking down at Merlin. She came to him first, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Merlin…" she said softly and hugged him. "I… I never knew…"

The tears hadn't stopped, but he seemed to drained to move, all of it was too much. The changes everything, he didn't think in that moment, he didn't focus his eyes as Gwen stroked his hair and rubbed his back soothingly.

"Thank you Merlin," she whispered. "Thank you for everything…"

"You were enchanted," he said after a moment. Realizing that he could tell the court that now without explaining how he knew. "Morgana enchanted you to return Lancelot's affections then…the bracelet… she turned you into a deer and let them hunt you… It wasn't your fault…"

Arthur stood up with a firm expression as Merlin kept talking about a myriad of things, but nothing seemed to stop it.

"You yourself are your bane. Your doubt and fears, your need to make your father proud, to follow in his footsteps, your blindness to Uther's cruelty…and your end is supposed to be nine."

"What are you blabbering about?" Arthur asked.

He couldn't help it, even though Merlin was a sorcerer he was still Merlin, the dimwit… in his wife's warm arms unable to react other than talking.

"The Diomir is a creature, not an object to ultimate knowledge, a curse and blessing, not to be trifled with… that dragon from the egg is still alive… Aithusa… I named her… she's… Kilgarrah… he's… and I…can't…Father…."

His legs gave out as the rest of his reserves left him falling to the ground and Arthur rushed forward followed in a close second by the rest of the occupants as Gwen sunk under his weight.

"Merlin!"

He didn't hear anything, his face was flushed, heart still thudding along in anxiety and he lay there as Arthur turned him over, prone and Gaius checked his vitals.

"What the hell is wrong with him?"

"He's stressed , sire," Gaius explained as if it were obvious. "You have to understand what this moment is to Merlin…"

Arthur huffed. He got Gwaine and Mordred to carry Merlin to Gaius' chambers leaving Arthur and Gwen in the throne room. He would follow soon behind but he had to think. What? Merlin was a sorcerer? A powerful one? One powerful enough to do all that?... Gwen wandered around the spot where Merlin stood, the floorboards had begun to sprout through varnish and into life… the flowers in the corner flourished and reach up towards the ceiling, the buds opened with such color it was amazing. If she reached up, she was sure that the flowers a few children had braided into her hair when she'd went out were growing further around her braid and twining through the rest of her hair.

Arthur watched her for a moment. His eyes caught on the vibrant green that was twirling through her hair and the extra flowers twining around her diadem.

"I always thought there was something special about Merlin."

Arthur sighed, walking towards her to look up at the column of green.

"Those are going to be a pain to get out…" He remarked, she turned towards him and looked up at him.

"Arthur…."

He winced at her tone. It was that voice she used when she was about to say something profound enough to be more right than anything he could hope to argue against. He hated and loved it when she did that.

"Oh please don't—"

"He's saved your life—"

"I know—"

"And my life—"

"Gwen—"

"Camelot needs him. He's kept you from doing some of the most foolish things, he's saved Camelot more than you have all the while keeping this secret."

Arthur sighed, "That doesn't—"

Their eyes met and Gwen looked stern, "You… if you are the man I married, the King that Camelot deserves… you will give the people their freedom."

He winced.

"You will give Merlin his freedom."

"He's the worst servant in the world—"

"He's the best friend you've ever had…"

She left him then unable to deal with Arthur, she had faith in his goodness, but there was always a chance. Arthur watched her go looking at the climb tower and the wood sprouting on the floor before walking out of the throne towards Gaius' chambers. When he entered, Merlin was still sleeping. Gaius was at his side, Mordred, Percival and Gwaine sat beside him conversing in soft tones.

"What happens if he doesn't wake up?"

"He passed out from stress, not an injury."

"Well are there magical injuries? Is that possible?"

Mordred chuckled, "Emrys… is not a victim of that kind of illness… this is a matter of stress."

"He said… you're a Druid right?" Percival asked… "Like those three women in the cave?"

"Yes," Mordred said tentatively.

"Well… what exactly… I mean… how… how come… can you do the stuff Merlin can?"

He blinked and chuckled a little, "My… powers aren't that intense and are of a different nature."

"What do you mean?"

As Mordred began to explain Druid magic and his own personal brand of it, the conversation steered towards the polymorphous nature of magic, the priniciples of balance behind it. Arthur left without saying anything heading up to his room and sitting at his desk, pulling the Edict against Magic to his side and reading it. It was simple. Magic was outlawed, anyone caught practicing was to be put to death… It was a retroactive decree, but impossible.

That night Gwen did not return to their shared chambers, probably avoiding him. A blank page sat before him and the words were there, everything swirled in his mind, the memories, his mother, everything that had come to light that day. The words were there they were simple, they were easy, they weren't difficult to comprehend. They weren't even hard to formulate and put on paper. Rather than that… the draft was easy. Much easier than he ever expected, he carried it with him to the council meeting the next morning to make his speech, there was disagreement, dissent, and very few people understood what he was saying.

"Your father—"

"My father is dead," he said. The words ringing in his ears, "And I cannot rule Camelot the way he did… I will not rule the way he did."

A week passed before Merlin woke up with Gaius sitting on the far bench away from him and Arthur clutching a roll of parchment in his hands. He blinked feeling like he'd just woken up from an abyss.

"You sure you weren't drinking before you went to sleep?" Arthur asked, his arms crossed and regarding Merlin with unreadable eyes.

Merlin looked at him and took a breath, swinging his feet over the edge of the cot and waiting until his world stopped spinning.

"You feel not to answer your king?"

"You… are no King of mine," he said softly. "As I am nothing more than an outlaw to you."

Arthur blinked as Merlin sighed, scrubbing his face, a hand through his hair. HE hadn't realized that the young warlock had taken this much worse than he'd thought. This moment had been more than he realized for him. The law had been more than he realized for people… He felt terrible, a sickening feeling in his stomach. Merlin should never look that weary, it didn't fit with the Merlin that Arthur knew.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm going to be executed," he replied and Arthur huffed.

"Don't be so morbid, Merlin!" He said. "I'm not going to execute you!"

Merlin looked at him with a dry expression as he thrust the page in his hand towards him.

"Well go on and read it."

Merlin took the scroll and opened it expecting something else other than the Decree of Magical Allowance and the formation of a Magic Task Force a long side the knights. He kept reading and a pregnant silence passed.

"You had Gwen write it didn't you?"

He huffed, "I did not."

"Mordred then."

"I wrote it."

Merlin made a noise like a scoff, "Arthur writes a coherent decree… It must have been quite a labor.—OW!"