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There were more of them this time—bandits who were starting to feel more and more organised with each new attack. When Arthur, Merlin, and the Knights had ridden out to a village requesting aid, there had been little concern about returning home. Concerned raised by Leon were struck down as an unlikely worst case scenario, while Merlin’s concerns were brushed off as simple inexperience. It left the two dismissed men to share the occasional worried glance as they road towards the village. Once they had attempted to fade towards the back of the convoy, each quietly murmuring their concern regarding the growing organisation of a historically disorganised group. It did not escape the notice of the rest of their company, and soon enough both provided long-suffering sighs before ultimately giving up on an attempt to plan while en route.
It was easier to find time and privacy once they were within the village. Though it was quite small, Arthur and the Knights were hard at work preparing defences for the oncoming storm that they were to face.
"You have to tell him," Leon hissed, his eyes like steel, his stance just as unwavering. It had sent a shot of panic through Merlin who stopped pacing in order to look towards Leon with wide, terrified eyes.
"I can’t!" Merlin exclaimed nervously, running his teeth over his bottom lip repeatedly with anxious fervour.
"Merlin, if our predictions come to pass, we’re going to lose someone. At minimum," Leon stated bluntly, his voice firm, lacking the usual warmth everyone tried to use with Merlin as if he were some fragile child.
Merlin knew the truth behind Leon’s words and yet all he imagined was the look of betrayal that would likely flash through those brilliant blue eyes. "It’s still punishable by death, Leon."
"He wouldn’t kill you," Leon scoffed; his patience was wearing thin.
"Then he would send me away before the attack!" Merlin spat. His fingers trembled as he picked at the frayed hem of his neckerchief, his eyes downcast.
Leon remained silent for what seemed like centuries. When he did finally speak, it was with a soft sigh. "Alright, I won’t argue further. We should get back."
Merlin didn’t move, even when he heard Leon eventually walk away. Maybe Leon had been right, maybe telling Arthur about his magic was the better choice. It provided them with an actual advantage, an advantage they didn’t have otherwise. Merlin thought of the alternatives. Exposing magic mid battle seemed particularly reckless. Attempting to hide magic effectively kneecapped him. What would he rather have? Exposed magic with a side of banishment, or hidden magic with a side of dead friends?
With a frustrated noise Merlin finally leaves to join back up with Arthur and the Knights. Anticipation and terror filled him to the brim as he walked towards Arthur. Merlin would rather have exposed magic with a side of banishment than watch his friends—watch his Arthur—die.
"Arthur—"
"They’re here!" Percival’s booming voice was unmistakable.
Merlin’s heart dropped. Adrenaline kicked in.
Chaos erupted.
"There’s too many—"
"We’re surrounded—"
"Protect the villagers!"
Suddenly a small village felt huge. Merlin couldn’t keep up, running from one end of the village to the other. It was impossible. And it was worse. It was worse than he and Leon had estimated. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but…
"MERLIN!" Leon’s voice rang out, and then everything stilled.
Merlin’s eyes glowed a rich honey gold. No more. No more. "No more!" Merlin’s voice echoed unnaturally. In fear the bandits clawed at their throats, trying to make sense of what was happening. Startled villagers and Knights alike looked towards him, Merlin could feel their eyes on him, but he didn’t care. Not anymore. Not when so many lives had been at stake.
"Leave. Tell your cowardly commander that if he wants Camelot, he will have to get through me. All of you will have to get through me," Merlin snarled before once more ancient words leave his lips, swords and shields ripped out of unworthy hands. Those with any sense at all ran, even leaving their horses behind, while those without any good sense attempted to pick up where they had left off.
The Knights quickly saw to that.
Then Merlin’s eyes spotted bloodied blonde hair that peaked out from a swarm of villagers.
"Arthur?" Merlin croaked, stumbling towards King. Somewhere deep inside, Merlin felt grateful for the way the villagers moved out of his way. Already they had removed his armour so that they could apply pressure to the grievous wound, but it wouldn’t help.
Two emotions flooded through Merlin. First, an agonising sorrow. Second, a hateful rage. A blinding fury that filled him with a glowing light that made even his skin illuminate as power thrummed beneath his skin.
"Merlin?" Leon’s voice is heard but goes unacknowledged.
Wrathful words of old are hissed through clenched teeth, as tear filled eyes glow gold once more. At first, there was nothing. Just silence. Then the terrified screams began as one by one, those bandits who ran are hauled back before any could even reach the end of Merlin’s range. In unison their necks are snapped while tears run down Merlin’s cheeks.
Merlin dropped to his knees beside is King, beside the man he loved. Trembling fingers pressed against Arthur’s neck with grim expectations. Hopelessness already filled Merlin to the brim, until a faint thump pressed against his skin. A heart beat. Alive. Arthur’s still alive.
"Don’t leave us, Arthur—Camelot still needs you, I need you," Merlin whimpered before pulling Arthur into his lap. With a deep breath Merlin reached deep inside, asking just once more for his well of magic to provide him a miracle. Just once more.
Ancient words are whispered, barely audible as Merlin closed his eyes, his hands pressed against Arthur’s chest, right about his heart. Merlin didn’t know where to begin, he didn’t know what to say, all he knew is this: he would give anything, he would give everything for Arthur to live again.
Warmth tingled beneath his fingers, and for a moment it made Merlin smile, albeit sadly, as slowly he felt himself weaken. Breathing became a struggle, staying conscious more so, but he had to at least finish what he started. "Forgive me," Merlin whispered as cold seeped into his bones.
"Merlin?" Leon again.
Merlin opened his eyes, their vibrant blue seemed more like a dull gray as a weak smile creased his lips. "Goodbye, Leon," Merlin murmured before closing his eyes. Let darkness take him now. He did what he could.
Goodbye, Arthur.
* * *
"How long did you know?!" Arthur snarled as he paced the length of the council chamber, the Knights lined up before him. They all wore broken expressions as none but Leon dared to look him in the eyes.
"A while," Leon answered, not just for himself, but for them all.
"You should’ve told me! We could have—I could have—" Arthur stopped, his fingers clenched tightly, his nails digging into the skin of his palm. "And now, I have to tell Hunith." Arthur tried to keep an even tone, but failed.
Leon dropped his gaze, his shoulders slumped forward.
They had won, but the cost felt too great.
"He had been concerned." Leon’s voice strained, as if strangled by his own words. "He feared banishment, if not death."
Arthur first felt rage followed by a soul deep guilt that has him turning away from his men. He didn’t want them to see just how broken he felt. "Because of the magic ban. I hadn’t thought to repeal it, and it cost me—it cost him everything." Or at least, it costed Arthur what was most precious to him. "I should’ve—I’m such a—"
"Prat?"
Arthur’s whirled around, eyes wide as they looked towards what he believed to be a ghost. He looked just like he had when they had originally departed Camelot for the village. Arthur pushed past his Knights, not even sure when he had started moving, just so he could reach out and touch because he did not believe what he saw.
"Merlin?" Arthur whispered as his fingers brushed against warm skin. "How?" Arthur choked out.
"I’m not entirely sure. Have a theory but…I needed you to test it," Merlin answered, a nervous smile settling on his lips.
"Me?" Arthur asked, still lost within his dazed confusion and not entirely unconvinced of this simply being a dream. He had dreamt it before.
"Mhmmm, if you could just…hold out your palm and say…" The words that left Merlin’s mouth seemed strangely familiar, though Arthur couldn’t pinpoint why. He also couldn’t pinpoint why he did what was asked of him without question. Hope? Desperate desire not to wake up if this turned out to truly be a dream?
When a small orb of light filled his palm, Arthur merely blinked at it. "So this is a dream," he murmured broken-heartedly. His hand dropped, the light extinguished.
"No, Arthur, it isn’t. I—err—" Merlin stopped, anxiety written across his face. "I—we are—I might have accidentally—" Dream Merlin is quite accurate, more accurate than Arthur had ever managed before.
Sighing, Merlin stepped towards him and grabbed the hand Arthur had just dropped. It made Arthur want to close his eye, to merely enjoy how real this felt for a moment, but Merlin wouldn’t let him.
"I bound us together—you were dying, almost dead, I couldn’t just…I didn’t know how, I didn’t think about it…I just did it. I thought I had swapped my life for yours, but I—well, I seemed to have bound you to my life instead," Merlin rambled out in the way he always did when he was nervous and uncertain if Arthur would believe him.
"I wish that’s how it could’ve been." The words slipped from him and Merlin’s face dropped. Arthur wanted to react, but a tap to his shoulder made him stop short and turn around.
"Gwaine what do—" Arthur’s cut off by a sharp smack across his face that nearly threw Arthur off balance. Stunned, his mind begins reeling at the sudden realisation. It wasn’t a dream.
"Gwaine!" Merlin exclaimed.
"What? You weren’t going to do it," Gwaine justified.
"Better him than me," Leon added.
"It is good to see you awake, we didn’t think you were going to pull out of it," Elyan redirected.
"Is he going to be okay?" Percival asked.
Then silence.
Arthur looked up to see all eyes on him. Definitely not a dream.
Wait—that would mean—"I have magic?" Arthur squeaked.
"I—yeah—sorry! I’ll teach you—I’m so sorry—I didn’t know—are you okay?" Merlin’s voice sounded filled with nervous hope, but it also filled with a quiet fear that Arthur has begun to recognise. All those times he had heard it before, it all made sense now. Arthur wanted to be mad. He wanted to ask why Merlin hadn’t trusted him, but it all seemed pointless now. So Arthur answered in the only way he felt he could.
He pulled Merlin into him and kissed him, not nearly for as long as he would’ve liked, but enough to have gotten his point across. "Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Merlin, that’s an order." Arthur tried to sound authoritative but failed miserably, he sounded rather pathetically desperate instead.
Merlin just looked at him with that broad grin of his.
That grin that Arthur’s bound to.
Forever.
Maybe almost dying wasn’t so bad after all.