The Truth Can Hurt

[pie]

He was becoming more and more frustrated by the moment! Arthur still wouldn't speak, though Merlin believed he knew the answer to his question. Arthur didn't care if he left, did he? The fact that he could just so easily throw everything he had thought they had had only tore at Merlin more. Tore him, and made his anger grow.

Arthur knew he had magic now, and nothing could change now that he hated him, could it? He was in the mix of wanting to do something rash or walk away. Merlin had saved his life so many times... He had lost count he had done it so often. And what thanks did he get? None. A friend who turned his back on him and hated him now. A great appreciation. He had always hoped that when Arthur found out, that sure, he might be angry at first, but he would at least let him try to explain!

No, instead, he didn't want to talk at all, ask any questions that he might have about him. Merlin would have answered them all now, truthfully too. But instead, he wouldn't be, because Arthur wanted to be a prat and walk back to Camelot in silence. And wouldn't even tell him if he really wanted him gone or not! He at least wanted to know for sure whether or not Arthur really wanted him gone! Wanted to hear it from his mouth so that he knew if he had perceived him right.

Clenching his hands tightly, Merlin looked to his side and saw a decent sized rock. Picking it up, he hurled it at the retreating man. He didn't care if somehow Arthur managed to notice it and move out of the way, all he cared about was that it was satisfying to throw it at him! And all the more so if it actually did hit him!

"I can't believe you!" he yelled furiously. Arthur might not want to talk, but Merlin had to say anything before he decided what to do. "This is why I didn't tell you! Because you'd act like this! I had hoped that you would have more faith in me! I've only ever used my magic to help you, and Uther," who cared about titles right now?! "and Camelot, and only others who deserved it! You're just like your father! Are you going to rule like him to?! Are you going to keep magic outlawed and make enemies yourself because of it?! Some destiny that turned out to be -- a complete lie!

"Everything. Everything I did, was for you. 'Protect the Young Pendragon,' 'Protect the future King,' 'He cannot die.' I have spent the last three years doing just that! I had felt you were my friend. But no! You're just a... an arrogant, egotistical, supercilious, pompous... jerk." Done his rant, and ending with a choked tone, Merlin turned around in the opposite direction. Fine, he would leave, he would go home... He wouldn't return.

Even though after a few days he would, hoping everything would calm down. . .

He stood there, as if hoping Arthur would say something to try and change his mind, even though he found it highly impossible. And he just had to add one more thing before allowing the Prince to do whatever he chose. "I had always hoped... that you would be the understanding friend I had thought you to be."

[Woot! Page two!]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had not been facing Merlin, so when the rock hit his back, it was extremely unexpected. But the pain was not something Arthur reacted to. Never the less, he knew there would be a bruise there tomorrow. But he could handle that. What he could not handle however, was the fact that his closest friend had lied to him every day for the past three years. While the rock was not enough to make him turn to face Merlin, it was enough to make him stop walking, and so Arthur stood there, back towards Merlin, listening to his words. And he did indeed have a lot to say. Arthur would have retorted, saying something back as response to Merlin's . . . but his emotions were just so mixed, that he could not properly phrase things.

Who asked Merlin to protect him?! While the question had started out as a sarcastic one in the Prince's mind, the more he thought about it, the more legitimate it became. Yes. Who indeed had told him to do this because it sure as hell wasn't Arthur. He had so many questions at this point. So many things he wanted to demand answers to. But where could he start? There was not beginning point; and it doubted there would ever be an end point as well. Where did they even go from here? How would things go back to normal?

He spoke of faith, about trust . . . Arthur did not understand how Merlin could say all these things, when he felt that his friend lacked the same qualities in him. When Merlin was done his rant, Arthur stood there for a moment, trying to -- yet again -- gather himself. He half turned his body, not fully facing him, but was rather at a bit of an angle. Though, he was still not looking at him, as his head was turned more to the side.

"You speak of faith, of trusting in others. It makes you nothing but a hypocrite." Arthur's tone held that same lack in any sort of emotion. Even when he remembered how he called his father a hypocrite and a liar, he had been yelling about it. He had been in such an intense rage and the anger had boiled over. But now, it was not boiling over in any way. Arthur didn't know if it was because he was still in shock over this entire discovery, or if it was because he just did not know how to deal with it. It was probably a bit of both. But he felt the same sense of betrayal -- in a different context of course. Merlin had clearly lacked faith in his friend, if he kept something so great from him. Why hadn't he trusted him, and let him deal with this information, instead of constantly trying to conceal it.

Arthur did not know what he would have done with the knowledge of Merlin being a sorcerer. All he knew that it would have made it a lot better had he told him himself, and Arthur not found out by accident. Well, that was the way Arthur felt right now anyway. Speaking of not knowing . . . he also did not know what kind of king he would be. He had rarely seen magic used for good. He had seen it only for evil, only for the means of destroying Camelot, or plotting against the royal family and friends of the kingdom.

Hearing Merlin's final line of what he had hoped him to be. This time, Arthur looked at him, with that same cold look. Inexpressive. "And I had always believed that you were a trusted friend. Not a man who has lied to me every single day." Had he truly believed that he would have had Merlin killed because of his . . . practicing of magic? Even now, in all his anger, he knew he was not going to tell his father. How could he? He would not be responsible for putting Merlin on the stake. It would be awkward, lying to his father about everything, but especially after what he had seen his father do and nearly do to Guinevère when he believed her to have enchanted him . . . Arthur would not take that same risk with someone else. Even if he was infuriated at Merlin at the moment.

[YES!!! WE SO ROCK!!]

[pie]

Did Arthur really think of him as a hypocrite? The words sobered some of Merlin's anger, and his expression softened. He was right, of course. He always told Arthur to tell him things, to open up, but he never trusted his secret in him, never told him that one detail about him that made him different from most servants, most people Arthur knew. Merlin had been afraid of how Arthur would feel about this, about whether or not he would tell Uther. He had never trusted in the man he called his best friend. Arthur had every reason to hate him. . .

But still, he knew Merlin's character, his personality. Didn't that account for anything? Didn't that mean anything to him? He didn't want to cause any harm, he just wanted to protect the Prince! Just wanted to be by his side. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why couldn't they just go back to a normal relationship, where this sort of thing didn't bother them? Where they could insult each other and not take it to heart, to joke and come up with responses to tease the other.

How was he suppose to respond to that? It wasn't a lie, it was the truth. He hadn't put faith in their friendship... that made him a hypocrite, didn't it? He had known what the consequences of hiding it might be... Why, then, did it make him feel so devastated? He had known this would happen, so why...?

"I might be a hypocrite, but..." he began, but faltered. But what? There was no "but". "But at least I'm not..." Everything he wanted to say would contradict his actions. Everything he wanted to say to try to convince Arthur to think of him otherwise, could be counted against his actions. "At least I know where I still stand. I am not against you, why do you have to be against me?"

He still faced the opposite direction from Arthur, but he glanced over his shoulder, only to see the, cold and inexpressive look. That look, and those words, made Merlin flinch and direct his gaze downwards, away from those cold eyes. He hadn't lied to him every single day! Only about his magic! Half the things he had done he wouldn't have been able to do had it not been for Arthur being there! But the words "believed that you were a trusted friend" only tore at him more. He had just admitted that he had thought of him as a friend, and now... he didn't.

"Arthur... I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice holding no anger. He couldn't think of anything else to say, and in Arthur's anger, he doubted that his words would be given much credit to. No, Arthur was too angry... would he continue to be this angry towards him?

[Yes, yes we do! ]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had indeed noticed that Merlin's anger was beginning to subside. He must have said something to slowly alleviate the anger. Or perhaps it had just been a burst of outrage on his part. It was strange, to see this sort of shift in dynamic. Arthur was usually the one getting angry, yelling, throwing things. And Merlin was usually the calmer one, the one who knew how to control his anger, capable of having a rational conversation. And here they were: in complete role reversals. It only showed how tense this situation was. How neither of them really knew what to say or what to do. Even Arthur . . . did not know how to react right now. He did not feel guilt that Merlin was apologizing, or felt bad. Right now, he was just so overwhelmed with mixed emotions, that he did not bother to say anything comforting. Or even attempt to give hope in their friendship.

Their friendship.

Where did it go from here? At the moment, Arthur truly felt as if he would never be able to trust him again. It had been so easy for him to lie to his face, every single day. And that was one of the things that pained him the most. How easy it was for him to deceive. Eventually, Arthur may realize the circumstances in which Merlin used his magic. But he could not think of that right now. He could not rationalize why Merlin did it. He could only be shocked over the fact that he had. And he had been doing it for over thirty years.

Merlin knew where he stood? How could he be loyal to him, when he lied to him? Again, deep down, Arthur knew that the loyalty between them was much stronger. But right now, he would not justify anything that Merlin had done. He did not even know if he was against him. He could not bring himself to arrest him, to drag him back to Camelot. To watch him burn at the stake. And because of that impossibility for him to do so, Arthur was going against his father. His relationship with the king right now was fragile though, ever since the entire situation with Guinevère. He could not be the direct result of Merlin's death. Even among all his anger, he would never be that angry at him.

He heard his apology, but again did not acknowledge it. Instead, Arthur looked away, lowered his gaze to the ground, looking at nothing in particular. He knew what he had to say. And never thought he would be saying this to Merlin. Not after the three years they had been friends. Not after Arthur had valued him so very much; not just as a servant, not just as a friend, but as a brother. "Do what you must Merlin. From now on you are relieved from all your duties and your position as man servant in the royal household." His father had hired him, and now, Arthur was firing him. His tone was said with a certain finality. One that sounded as if it was not up for debate.

[pie]

He was... sacking him? Merlin whirled around to face the Prince. He felt as if his whole world would crumble right then and there, as if the past three years, and then some, hadn't mattered in perspective of whatever greater force existed out there. Merlin's emotions were so torn right now that he didn't know how to respond for many moments. What was he to respond with? Should he be angry, or upset, or neither? All he could do was stare with wide, shocked eyes.

Even though Arthur had been so angry, he had never expected him to actually fire him. He had been Arthur's servant almost the whole time he had lived in Camelot, had bonded with the Prince, had become more than just friends with him. So why would he fire him? Surely Arthur felt the same way about him, right? That they were closer than friends?

Then again, Arthur had always been that annoying jerky type towards him... But he had changed, so was he, really? Merlin's thoughts whirled around so much in his head that he didn't know what to think of it. Should he just walk away, and return to Camelot? Or should he go back to Ealdor? Or maybe, perhaps, he should laugh it off and ignore it? No, the Prince meant what he said, so he couldn't do that. But he couldn't return to Camelot now, what would he say? What would he do? How would he explain that he was fired? To Gaius, or even to Gwen?

He felt so conflicted at that moment. He both want to throw something at the Prince again, and on the other hand, wanted to plead with him not to do this, to forgive him, to follow him back to Camelot and issue an apology the whole way. But what did he have to apologize for? Lying, yes. But for having magic? Merlin was born with it, it was a gift, he had no say in how he was born, of the circumstances of his birth. So what should he do or say?

"Y-You're sacking me?!" he called out, his voice cracking as he forced himself to speak. His words carried his shock and disbelief. "N-No, y-you're kidding, you're joking. This is just some kind of cruel joke, to make me regret lying to you. Y-Yes, that's it! Well it worked, I'm sorry! Haha, you had your laugh, so drop the joke, please, I won't hide anything from you ever again, I swear! On my life, yes, let's go with that! Ask me anything, I'll answer it! Please, the joke isn't funny!" He knew it wasn't a joke, knew the Prince wasn't lying, but he couldn't help but hope by some small sliver of a chance that it was a joke...

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew he was shocked. His shock was more evident than Arthur's had been upon finding out that Merlin was a sorcerer. But Arthur did not grow any more sympathetic. He did not regret his decision. He knew it was the only one right now. His hut was boiling over and he did not know what Merlin planned to achieve while being in Camelot. Every second he was there, he was in more danger of getting caught. Right now it just seemed better if Merlin left. Of course with that, he did not know how he would explain it to Guinevère or Gaius. Well, if Gaius knew about this all along -- as Arthur was going along with the assumption that he did know -- then he would understand. Gwen on the other hand. Arthur was not sure how to explain this, and he did not want to lie to her . . . about anything.

Arthur's expression had not changed. It still remained that distant, detached look. Had he not meant it, he would have made a joke. A sarcastic remark. Or he would have just thrown something at him. But no. Arthur meant it. Every single word. There was nothing in his expression or tone that implied he was joking. He did not feel like joking around and going back to the way things were, pretending that everything was normal. It was not. And right now, at this moment, he doubted they would ever return to anything close to normality.

So Merlin was probably just in denial. It would hit him soon enough. When he returned to the castle, to see that Arthur no longer required his services. It was not at all easy to do such a thing. And Arthur knew it would not be an easy adjustment to make. None of this was easy to adjust to. It was all too much, at once. Too overwhelming. He needed time to clear his head and wrap his thoughts around this whole situation. But in the present, he kept thinking about all those times that Merlin had directly lied to him, and that was what fueled his cold words towards his friend.

"It would probably be best if you leave Camelot as well." That was even more difficult to say, but he managed to compose himself enough to speak in the same steady, consistent voice he had been using this entire time. While he was not banishing him, he was formally suggesting that he leave. And not return. Or well, that was what Arthur was thinking at the moment. As he knew, he had to cool down because in his anger, he tended to say and do quite a lot of irrational things. But right now, he was dead serious.

[pie]

Leave... Camelot?

Out of everything the Prince had ever said or suggested, out of everything that had happened in the past three years, nothing had hurt Merlin any more than this. The day just kept getting worser and worser. First Arthur found out about his magic, then he got angry that he had been lied to, then he refused to speak, then he sacked him... and now he was telling him to leave Camelot? Why? Even if he was sacked... How could Arthur just tell him to up and leave? His life had become Camelot, his heart lied within it's walls.

And now he was told he should leave.

He didn't respond to this. He didn't know how to respond to this. What was there to say to this? There was no arguing with the Prince. He was stubborn, angry, upset. He wasn't in a mood to be reasoned with, and Merlin wasn't in a mood to try to reason with him anymore. In fact, he was the furthest from in the mood. He was far too devastated -- depressed, even -- and shocked. He stood there, rooted to the spot, completely silent, his expression turning from the pleading, begging look to a completely blank one. There was no emotion to show, he didn't know what to show.

He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Had this whole "destiny" thing been a lie? It must have been, he couldn't fulfill it now, not if Arthur was sacking him and telling him to leave. Arthur didn't want him around anymore. He couldn't ignore the Prince's words, he was the Prince, after all. What he said was law, unless the King said otherwise. To disobey the Prince could be taken as far as to be considered treason in some cases.

But furthermore, he didn't want to anger Arthur any more than he already had. Arthur hated him, he wasn't sure if it could get any worse, but from how things had been going so far, it had to be possible. He didn't want that, even though that thought and wish was more subconscious than anything else -- because outwardly, he didn't know what he wanted.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had nothing to say. Instead, he stared at the Prince with misted eyes and nodded a few times, appearing totally unsure of himself, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't decide what. He blinked, nodded again, and simply turned around and walked away. . .

[Look what you did, Arthur!! lol]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Had Arthur not been in such a mix of emotions, he would have noticed the fact that he had managed to silence Merlin -- something he never thought he could have ever done. But so many things were out of the ordinary right now. So many things were mixed together . . . so many doubts were in Arthur's mind. He did not contradict his words by saying something to Merlin to make him not leave. Arthur just turned himself and began to walk back towards Camelot. It would prove to be a very long walk for every step of the way, a new thought or question would enter his mind. How many times had Merlin used magic? How many lies had he told him? So many questions, and yet Arthur could not bring himself to turn around, follow Merlin and demand the answers to them. He needed time to think this over . . . even if the possibility of never seeing his servant and closest friend again, entered his mind.

Every time something unexplainable happened, had it been a lie to cover up his use of magic? Arthur did not know how deep this ran. He did not want to know. No. That was a lie. He did want to know. It was the kind of answer that you asked, but then covered your ears before hearing the response. Still, he kept walking back towards Camelot. He knew he would not tell his father about this . . . he did not want Merlin to become a fugitive for even Arthur at times disagreed with his father's harsh punishment for those practicing magic. Arthur wanted to trust his gut feeling, that Merlin was not evil. After having been brought up to belief that all magic was dark and used for evil purposes -- and seldom having seen it for anything else -- it was very to have a bias opinion and view of it. But this was Merlin . . . the clumsy idiot who had only initially gained his attention to begin with because he knew he was outmatched, but decided to insult the prince anyway.

Then again, he never would have thought that this was the same Merlin who had lied to him for so many years.

Bitter, angry, and hurt, Arthur returned to Camelot, walking straight through the gates, straight into the castle, and straight to his room. He did not even inform his father that he had returned . . . he had not informed anyway. Those who had seen him would spread word to the king that his son was back . . . but Arthur was in no mood to deal with questions about Merlin's whereabouts. He knew that soon enough, people would ask. Gaius would ask. Guinevère would ask. Morgana would ask. His father would even bring it up, but probably only in such a way that would lead to the necessity of a replacement. But right now, Arthur thought nothing of that. He slammed his door behind him and just stood there, wishing that he could reverse time so that they would have never left . . . so that this truth could have forever remained concealed.

[[ HAHA BAD Arthur! He silenced Merlin, and sent him away! How mean! ]]

[pie]

He had walked all the way home to Ealdor. All the way home, on foot, and in a grim mood. The only thoughts that crossed his mind was how he could have healed Arthur better to keep his magic a secret still. Or how he could have lied better... or how he could have told him the truth earlier... But that time was past, those chances had escaped him. No longer was he Arthur's servant, and, he feared, no longer his friend. What would he do now? Now that he had given up his life in Ealdor to go to Camelot... And now that his life in Camelot had been torn from him.

Alas, it seemed that no longer did he have that chance. No longer would he be able to stay at Arthur's side, to protect him, to work with him, for him. The man who he had declared his loyalty to, the man whom he had promised to give his life for if the need arose... had cast him aside. All because of magic. Was magic indeed a curse, than? Even Arthur still hated it, it seemed. What was the point of having magic if you had to keep it a secret, and what was the point of having magic if it tore away those you cared for? There was no point, it wasn't a blessing, it was of no help. All he had done was protect Arthur, that was all that he had wanted to do, but his friend couldn't see that, wouldn't see it.

And so he headed towards Ealdor, without even a passing thought as to how much his feet would kill him after walking without thought.

What would Arthur tell Gaius? Or Gwen? Or even Uther? Would he tell the King he had magic, and the next thing he knew he would be completely outlawed from Camelot? Or would it put his family and those within Ealdor in danger? Should he even go back to Ealdor? No, he had to have faith that Arthur would at least not do that, would at least still care for him as a friend enough to keep this a secret from others. He had to believe. For if he didn't, then the man really wasn't his friend. . . No, this couldn't be happening, this had to be a dream, a terrible one that he would wake up from, where he could go back to working for Arthur, and they could insult each other in a way that didn't truly hurt any of them. The way only friends could.

He reached over and pinched himself, hard, and felt it. It wasn't a dream, it was reality, Arthur had really found out his secret and cast him aside. Merlin stopped walking and leaned against a tree trunk on the side of the road. He wasn't even aware of the raindrops, all that mattered was the fact that he wanted to go back to Camelot and try to convince Arthur not to make him leave. He'd remain silent if he had to, he'd painfully avoid talking to him... He'd become the most obedient servant if he had to. Anything to stay...

Anything...

[ I know, right? We can time skip now if you want, or continue to post like this, lol ]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur walked in a state of shock and anger all the way back to Camelot. He still could not believe it even though he had witnessed it. Merlin, of all people, was a sorcerer. Merlin, of all people, had been lying to him since the day they had met. Why? For what?! How many times had he used it without the Prince's knowledge? So many potential scenarios filled his mind, and he wanted to demand answers from him, but was too angry to turn around and ask him. By the time he arrived at Camelot he was drenched, and tired, but he did not care about either thing. He silently went straight to his room, telling no one to disturb him and slammed the door behind him. He knew he would only have a limited amount of time before people starting asking questions about Merlin's whereabouts. Arthur knew -- even in this state of anger -- that he would not, could not, tell anyone about Merlin's powers. He would not tell his father, and he could not tell others for it may put them in a dangerous position.

Soon, the questions started. All Arthur told the others was that Merlin had to return to Ealdor for some time. And that was it. Gaius had not questioned it further, which confirmed Arthur's suspicions about whether Gaius knew or not. Gwen on the other hand was incredibly concerned, but as Arthur did not want to talk about it, he tried his best to avoid the subject. His mood was sour in the days that followed. He refused to appoint another personal man servant to himself, and instead, just used different ones. He did miss his friend a great deal, but this was clouded by the continuing anger he felt towards him. Anger over the lies, the deception . . . the inability to understand why he had done it. Why had he come in the first place. WHY?!

The days had dragged on and one, until a week had passed, and every night, Arthur was restless just thinking of the past few years. One particular night though, he could not let it go. It was nagging at his brain and he would not be able to rest until he confronted Merlin. A part of him had wanted the man to return to Camelot, and yet the other part of him did not want to see him. It was dangerous for him and Arthur feared he would not be able to even talk to Merlin for his irrational anger would prevent him from doing so. But it had become too much. He had not adjusted to not having him here every day, and he was not going to be able to let it fully to go to the point where he never saw him again and all that he wanted to know would just remain undetermined. So tonight, he would ride out.

He leaped out of bed, quickly throwing on his clothes, not even bothering with his armor. All he took was a sword. It was the middle of the night but he managed to get out of the castle with ease, just telling everyone that he would return soon. He was not in the mood to explain to anyone what was really going on, a mood that remained consistent in the past several days . . . ever since Merlin's absence. Arthur hurried to the stables, urging to the stable boy to quickly ready a well rested horse. Within a few moments, he rode out of the castle gates, out of the city, with one destination in mind: Ealdor.

[pie]

Ealdor was all that it was before he had left it, all that he remembered it to be. Yet at the same time, it was not. It was different, everything seemed so different when he entered the village. The people, the buildings, the air hanging about the place. Why was it? He shivered from the rain, but did not realize it, it was as if forgot he felt it after it touched him. He knew the answer as to why Ealdor felt different. It was because his life had changed, and while Ealdor was still, and always would be, his home, so was Camelot.

So he was in Ealdor, the place of his birth, where he was raised for the majority of his life. He knew the people here, but every time he came across one of them for whatever reason, he paid them no heed. It was as if they didn't exist. They weren't who he wanted, he was different from all of them, none of them could understand what he felt, or why he felt it. But then, nor did Arthur, though when he found out about the magic, he grew angry. Perhaps this was where he belonged, with people who didn't know yet, and couldn't understand.

The next week went by slowly for Merlin. As if time was dragging itself out, not wanting to move onwards for fear that it would stop altogether. Even though he stayed with his mother through the whole week, and while he talked to her, he still felt out of place. Like this wasn't where he belonged. He wanted to go back to Camelot, to try and explain everything to Arthur. But Arthur hated him, he was convinced, and didn't want him there anymore. He was wanted to go back, but he was afraid of what would happen. If by some off chance that this would all work out, he didn't want to ruin it by making Arthur angrier.

He didn't speak to anyone other than his mom that whole time, and he also didn't fail to notice the few strange looks he got from villagers when he passed them. They wondered, he knew, why he had become pretty much a mute, whereas before his leave those years before, he was rather the opposite. They wondered why he left Camelot, and why he wasn't going back. If he was just here on a visit or on some kind of business from the Prince, than why was he as silent as Death?

He didn't care, though. He preferred it that way, keeping to himself, keeping his thoughts to himself. He sat out front of the house many times that weeks, such as at this point, just staring off into what appeared to be thin air. His thoughts wandered a lot as he tried to make sense of this whole thing, tried to will himself awake, almost pleading with some higher power to make this all a dream, even though he knew, as he knew when he had left Arthur, that it was reality.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur rode fast and hard, not stopping once for sleep nor food. There were few times when he had ridden with such great determination and haste; such instances were reserved for matters that required great haste. . . this was no exception. All he could think about was confronting Merlin, and yet at the same time, had no idea what he would say to him. There was so much he needed to say and question, and that was all he focused on for the entire ride there. Question after question. Had he not developed such a close friendship with the man, he would have sent him out of Camelot without a second thought. But . . . it was Merlin. Merlin! Someone he trusted so very early on. How was he a sorcerer. How had he gotten away with it for so long? He had lived in the royal household and everyone was oblivious to his powers. He had spent majority of each day in Arthur's company . . . and he had been the most oblivious of all to Merlin's powers. And the lies after lies after lies. These thoughts flooded his mind, and only made him urge his horse to run faster.

Once again, Arthur lost track of time, so he was not sure how long it took to get there. Could have been a day, or two, or three, and he would not have known the difference. When he neared the village, he dismounted from his horse, tying it in the woods right near the village. It was the middle of the night, or early in the morning depending on how one looked at it, and n one else seemed to be up. He did not want to barge in, creating a ruckus and alarming the citizens of Ealdor. The last time he was here had been to fight off Kanen's men, he did not want to make it seem like there was another crisis. Well, one that they need worry about.

Once his horse was securely tied, he stepped out of the wooded area, and began to walk to Merlin's house. Thankfully, Merlin was sitting outside it. It would avoid having to wake his mother by knocking on the door. Arthur barley looked at him though. He walked to the house, pausing for a very brief moment, only to speak. "I need to speak with you." His voice lacked any sort of emotion, other than a strict firmness. He was not looking at Merlin for as soon as he said the words, he turned to walk away, back to the woods, back to a more private location, and while he did not express it, truly hoped that Merlin would follow him.

[pie]

He was unaware of how long he sat there, staring off into space. He didn't see the need to try to remember how long, what else had he to do in Ealdor, after all? Sleep? He found sleep unwanted lately, as if if he closed his eyes, he wouldn't wake up from this nightmare. As if he closed his eyes, all of this would be real. Besides, he found that the dreams that visited him in sleep lately were unappealing. One might even consider them to be nightmares, because they left him waking up abruptly, panting. Most of the time he was unsure of exactly what they were of, yet he knew that they dealt somehow with Camelot and his life there. A life he lost.

So he usually sat up at night, not finding much sleep. One might say it made him "agitated" because of his lack of sleep, but how could one be agitated when they didn't speak or do much to begin with? He preferred his silent, unending watch, staring off, through buildings and anything that presented itself in front of him. If someone came up to speak to him, he usually didn't pay it much thought, or completely ignored them. They would leave, then. They always did.

If he opened his mouth to speak to others, he was afraid of what would come out. What if he spilled his secret? Or poured out his frustration on them? He didn't want that, even in his current mind-state, he knew that he didn't want to place this burden on others. It wasn't theirs to bear.

So when all of a sudden, or so it seemed to Merlin, Arthur's voice sounded, Merlin started. He looked over with slightly wide eyes at the Prince standing there, surprised that he was even here. But then that surprise faded. It wasn't really Arthur, he knew. He was dreaming, Arthur wouldn't come all the way to Camelot. He had fallen asleep, and now his dreams were tormenting him once more with wishes, wants, memories of times with the Prince. Watching the Prince walk off, he wasn't sure if he wanted to follow. It was his dream, so why bother? He could do whatever he wanted to in his own dream.

He decided to just let the dream flow, what more would it hurt? Besides, he needed the sleep, and while he knew that he would wake up, panting and sweating, he might be just a little less tired. And so he stood up, and walked after the "Prince", following him without a word, dragging his feet forward and awaiting whatever he had to say. It wouldn't be good, he knew. It never was good, after all, they were nightmares. And whatever happened that was "good" in nightmares? He wasn't even sure if he wanted to speak to this dream-Prince, no harm would come from it. . .

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not look back at him, for he heard Merlin's footsteps behind him. He knew he was following, and the Prince tried to contain himself at least until he they were well away from the homes, from the people who were sleeping. Did those in Ealdor know of his gift? A thought suddenly hit him . . . the last they were here, Will had been a sorcerer. Had it been Merlin all along? These were the kinds of questions that had tormented Arthur's mind in the past week, but for now, he held his tongue, walking deeper into the woods. When he felt they were far enough, but not TOO far, Arthur stopped and turned to face him, maintaining a distance. That was when he saw Merlin, really saw him. he looked terrible. As if sleep evaded him, just as it had Arthur. This had clearly taken a toll on both of their lives, which was why he hoped things would get settled here and now. So that they could both move on.

He had been waiting for this moment, though it had been unplanned. And yet, suddenly, he could not find the words to say. He had mentally formed a list of questions, demands, explanations that he wanted to express to Merlin, but right now, looking at the man in front of him, he could find nothing to say. He turned his head to the side, frustrated with his own inability to talk right now. He had come all this way, and he certainly was not going to just turn and leave . . . so he had better say something. But what? How did one question every day of the past few years, to someone who had become like a brother? Arthur did not even know if today would mean that things could go back to the way they were before. He felt that they could never. That Merlin would never again be his servant . . . but what about a friend? The anger was still on the surface of Arthur, still unable to delve deep down into his emotions and bring out the rationality of this all.

He looked back at Merlin, but as before, his gaze rested on him for only a few seconds before he turned back to the side. He was having trouble maintaining eye contact. He had yelled at him before, thrown things at him, even pushed him at times . . . but right now, he could not even look at him in all his anger and hurt over his deception. And yet . . . how many times had Merlin saved his life? Of course, Arthur could only account for the instances that he actually knew about. He had used his magic to save him from the poison, and that fact alone was part of the reason Arthur had not completely cut Merlin out. It was why he had decided that he did need to meet with him, and that he could not let the last time they had parted ways, be the last . . . even if this current one would be.

Finding the difficulty to speak, Arthur managed one word. One very ambiguous word; one that called for so many answers from so many different directions, and yet, right now, at this second, it was all he could bring himself to say. He was calmer than before -- somewhat -- and was perhaps more willing to listen right now than before. Had he even already asked Merlin this question? He could not remember. All he knew was that he had come to Ealdor, he had sought him out, and yet it seemed, he could only say this one thing for now. "Why." Why had he come to Camelot? Why had he worked for Arthur for as long as he did? Why had he not told him? Why did he insist on using them? Just . . . why.

[pie]

Merlin followed Arthur into the forest without a single question, without a single word. And when they stopped, he didn't look at the Prince. He stared at the floor, his eyes unfocused, his face blank. He still thought of this as a dream, it still had to be a dream. What else could it be? Arthur had suddenly shown up in Camelot, and hadn't brought with him an army, or didn't appear as if he wanted to kill him because of his magic. Therefore, this had to be a dream.

The silence that followed seemed eternity to Merlin. He had half the mind to force himself to wake up. Then he wouldn't have to deal with listening to this fake-Arthur tell him about how he was wrong, about how he had betrayed him, any of it. But again, what was the point? There was none, it was just a dream, and he was used to hearing it all. He was used to attempting to explain everything to him, as he had in his dream. But that wasn't real, and neither was this. This was just a fantasy that his mind had created to try and give him some peace. But his subconscious would have none of it, and in the end, the same thing would happen like always.

So when Arthur finally spoke, Merlin forced his gaze up to look at Arthur, knowing exactly what questions were conveyed in that single word. Why. Why indeed, but oh how many meanings it had for the poor sorcerer. Where to begin this time, how to begin this time. "Ealdor was becoming too dangerous for me, I didn't fit in," he spoke in a low voice. Oh, but the same thing happened in Camelot, did it not? Send him to the most dangerous place in the world for magic, right into the heart of all the trouble. The center of the kingdom it was outlawed in. . .

"My mother sent me to Camelot to try and find a better life, hopefully with people that I would fit in with, would feel like I belonged with. She knew I was different, I don't know why she sent me to Camelot..." he sighed. He had already spoken more than he had while awake, and just in a dream. He still couldn't believe she would send him to Camelot. And he had thought that he had succeeded in finding the right place for him, the place he was meant to be at Arthur's side.

He forced a chuckle at the irony of it all and added, "Some good that did, turned out that I failed at that, huh?" then glanced back down at his feet, awaiting whatever torment that came always in the dream.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Ealdor was too dangerous? And yet Camelot was not? The thought of speaking to Merlin's mother briefly entered his mind, but the less people who knew that Arthur knew was probably for the best. Of course, Merlin could have already told her that he had found out, but it would not come from Arthur's lips. As angry as he was at him, he would not endanger his life. Nor would he endanger other people's lives who he cared about by sharing this piece of information . . . mainly Guinevère. He did not like her worrying but this was not a simple secret. It was complex, and highly dangerous . . . which was part of the reason he had sent Merlin away from Camelot. He did not plan to invite him back, at least not this far into the conversation.

Despite his attempt at making a joke, Arthur was not amused. Everything was too recent. He also knew that it was a bit of an awkward humor, as the dynamic between them had significantly changed. Awkward. Yes. That was a good way to phrase it. Arthur's expression remained cold, but not as distant as it was when he first found out. He had come here for a reason, and he just had to keep reminding himself how imperative it was to have this conversation. He was not good at talking about his feelings, nor discussing something that caused so much rage . . . but he would force himself. He would force himself because Merlin was no stranger, no matter how little he felt he knew him after discovering the truth about his magical abilities.

"You should not have come to Camelot." His statement was bluntly spoken, and had Arthur been more calm, he would have regretted saying it in such a way . . . in fact, he would have regretted saying it at all. But he had put himself in such danger. Surely Camelot would not have been as dangerous as Ealdor. This was Cenred's kingdom. Oh. He was in Cenred's kingdom. Oops. At the moment though, Arthur did not care in the least. It was probably lucky that he was not wearing the Pendragon seal, even if he had not planned this outing as much.

[pie]

Shouldn't have come to Camelot... Oh, like he couldn't guess at that part. He knew that it was dangerous to go to Camelot, but what would he have told his mother? She wanted him to go to Camelot, hoping things would be better there, and stay with Gaius. She had hoped Gaius would be a good caretaker for him, and indeed he had been. He had taught Merlin much, but apparently that hadn't mattered, as in the end, it had all been for naught.

Still, he didn't want to be lectured right now about something that had happened in that past. Having little sleep lately didn't help with keeping agitation low, and the fact that Arthur was here, despite him believing that this was a dream, did not help either. He remained silent a moment, staring at his feet, before an audible sigh escaped his lips and he turned around abruptly, meaning to completely go back to his position in front of his mother's house.

He would, however, offer some words to explain what he was doing, despite the fact that it didn't matter. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to a dream tell me what I should and shouldn't do," he grumbled, marching away, but not at an overly fast pace, more of a sluggish pace. As if he wasn't quite sure of the way back to Ealdor.

Enough was enough, he decided. He had had enough with this dream, had had enough with letting this drag on. He didn't need sleep, sleep was overrated, for people too afraid to face reality... He didn't need to sleep.

[Arthur Pendragon]

What the hell was he talking about?! Was this some sort of weird magic thing, some sorcery quirk that he did not quite understand? What did he mean a dream? What kind of game or joke was he playing, as he truly did not understand the literal sense in which Merlin meant the words. While he had come here prepared with questions, ones that arose from his comment were not ones he had expected to enter his mind when confronting Merlin. Wait . . . was he leaving?! What was he doing? How bad had this week been for him, that he's become insane. Arthur just watched him for a moment, not quite sure how to react to his remark, and the fact that he was walking away. Had this been like before, he would have probably thrown something at him. Then again, had this been like before, he would have understood at least the general concept of what he was talking about. But right now, he was utterly clueless.

"So that's it then?" He called after him, his voice evident of the increasing annoyance within him. While Arthur had been the one to to walk away before, he had not expected Merlin to do that now. He expected Merlin to want to explain himself; to talk a mile a minute, make a desperate attempt to justify his actions. He had done so in the past, and even before they had parted ways last week. But now, he was silent, and leaving the Prince standing there. It just made Arthur really wonder how little he knew Merlin. He thought he knew everything about him, but now, he felt he knew nothing. Who was the man he had gotten to know in the past 3 or so years?

"That's all you have to say for yourself?" He added, his voice continuing to display all aspects of irritation and frustration. All he could do was stand there, waiting for him to stop walking; to turn around and ramble on and on like Merlin usually did. Or at least say something more than a mere sentence, that did not even make sense to begin with. Had he not wanted Arthur to talk before? Well here he was now, willing to talk. Then again, he had never been in this situation with him before, with such high tension . . . who knows what he would do. Arthur did not want him to leave though. For if Merlin walked away now, he was fairly certain it would be the last time they saw each other. And Arthur did not feel like he was ready for that yet, if ever.

[pie]

Perhaps if he realized that this wasn't a dream then Arthur's words would have had more effect on him. But he had had several "nightmares" of a similar scene playing over and over within the past week, albeit a totally different outcome. He could hear the annoyance and frustration in the Prince's voice, and indeed it gave him pause, he even stopped walking as he tried to compose himself. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to scream or something. He was still angry that a man he had called his friend so easily cast him aside as if it was nothing, without letting him try to explain anything to him. And now he wanted an explanation?! It was his dream, though, if he wanted to yell at the fake Arthur, than he was allowed to. Maybe it would help with his awake-frustration.

"You want an explanation?!" he yelled, turning around to face him. If he knew that he wasn't dreaming, he would hold his anger in check, or, more-so, he would be too shocked at the realization that Arthur was indeed here. Instead, he was using this as a means of venting that anger. He wasn't sure if he was angry at Arthur, or if he was angry at himself for lying to the man all those years. At that moment, he didn't see Arthur as the Prince, as the man who would one day become King of Camelot. He saw him as a man he had trusted, and then seemingly betrayed and had lost that trust. He saw him as an old friend.

"I tried to explain myself, I begged you to listen, and you walked away!" he went on. "You sacked me, you told me not to return to Camelot, and you left me! Why should I explain myself to you now? You had your chance, Arthur Pendragon, and you ruined it by not trusting me!" He turned around, taking deep breaths, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side, trying to calm himself down before he said anything else. But what did it matter, though? Why did it matter? He wouldn't give his subconscious that pleasure, the pleasure of making him wake up in a worse state than he was when he fell asleep to begin with. No, he wouldn't let it win this little war it wanted to have.

Still, he didn't keep walking, even dreaming, he couldn't walk away from him. Even while angry, he couldn't do it. Perhaps deep down he knew that this wasn't a dream, or perhaps not. Perhaps he was wishing that it wasn't, that Arthur really was here... "Why are you here? After all, you don't care." It came out as a mumble.

[ WOO! 300^th POST~!!! ]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew that he was right . . . but he was not about to admit it. At least that was one thing that had not changed. He was too upset to admit that perhaps he should have given Merlin the opportunity to explain himself before. But the point was that he was here now. He was here to allow Merlin to provide an explanation . . . and he was just going to walk away? Or at least begin to. At least he stopped, even if it was only to yell. Arthur was not phased by his words. He stood there, stone cold, no sympathy towards him for being this angry, no regret for having walked away before. But Merlin's words were truthful, except for the last part. Even if the Prince could not express sentiment, truth was . . . he would not have come had he not cared. He did. He was here because he could not just let it go.

"Trust . . . " Arthur began, in a low tone before he raised his voice more angrily. "Don't talk to me about trust!" Arthur had trusted Merlin . . . trusted? Would it forever remain in past tense? He was not sure. Right now, he felt as if he could not trust him ever again, and yet, if he delved down deep enough inside himself, he knew that he could. But that was deep, deep down. All the anger on the surface clouded his judgment, and he could only deal with one thing at a time. "For three years you lied to me! Every single day since the moment I met you! " This was the rage building up inside of him. The rage that he could no longer keep contained in him.

Like hell Arthur missed his chance. He was not about to let it go so easily. He felt himself entitled to have taken some time to register what he had discovered that day in the woods. That one incident that seemed to change everything. "So don't you dare talk about trust. Not when you yourself betrayed it, lying to everyone about everything!" Arthur really did not know where this conversation was going to go. But he was going to make sure it at least went someone. He had come here to talk after all . . . and now the conversation had officially started. However intense, it had at least started, and neither of them seemed to be walking away right now.

[[ WOOO!! YOU ROCK!!! ]]