"Emrys, do you remember the day Uther Pendragon died?", Agravaine said, as he made himself at home in Merlin's and Arthur's house.
Merlin was praying desperately that Arthur wouldn't come home now. If he did, Arthur's life would be in danger.
Merlin pressed his lips together and nodded. He felt like he was tied to his chair, while Agravaine cut himself a slice of bread.

"Do you also remember who your loyalty lies with?", Agravaine asked and raised an eyebrow with a grin.
'My loyalty lies with Arthur.', Merlin wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. So he nodded instead. Not daring to challenge Agravaine.

"I ordered you to listen to Mordred's orders as long as I see fit. The time has come for you to be a one man shadow. You will only listen to ME. Understood?"

Merlin knew his eyes were flaring red again. He nodded, tears already burning in his eyes.
"Good. Your holidays are over. You are coming with me.", Agravaine said.
Merlin felt the order tug at his heart. Somehow, he felt even less free than before. His ties to Mordred were broken. But in their stead another set of chains was placed. All connected to one man. Agravaine.

The traitor of Camelot. Apparently it didn't matter who was king.
Agravaine would always betray the kingdom. The people in charge. His own family. His friends. People he pretended to care about.

If Mordred knew about this – if Kara did! Kara would be so mad if she learned Merlin wasn't Mordred's puppet anymore.
"Yes, Sire.", Merlin's head bowed. He needed to in front of royalty. That too – had once been an order he couldn't refuse to obey.

Agravaine watched him from his seat. Drinking a cup of wine slowly.
"You know – I noticed you keep watching the door. Are you waiting for someone?"
Merlin bit his lip. He couldn't lie. Not even now.
"Yes.", he said. It was barely enough information to satisfy the order of never-lie that he had received oh so long ago. But it was as much as he would dare to admit.
He fiddled with his hands under the table. Moreover – he fiddled with the ring Arthur had gifted him about a year ago. Back when he had proposed to Merlin. A nervous habit he hardly ever noticed. Agravaine did.

"Show me your hands.", Agravaine seemed to be guessing his distress. Seemed to know precisely what was going on. Merlin hissed a deep breath and held his hands out for Agravaine to see.
He closed his eyes, already knowing that Agravaine would laugh at the sight.
He was right. Agravaine barked out a laugh.

"Oh god, Emrys.", Agravaine looked plenty amused. "You didn't seriously think you could live a happy and normal life out here? Married – really." The man shook his head.
"Trust me, Emrys. Love isn't a thing someone like you should worry about. It doesn't suit your power."

Merlin hated him more and more with every word.
"Where is she?", Agravaine asked, looking around. "I'd love to meet her."
Merlin should probably point out the mistake in that sentence, but he found – if Agravaine made wrong assumptions – then that was his own fault. That wasn't a lie Merlin had told him. It was a lie Agravaine told himself and that would stand uncorrected as long as possible.

Merlin sighed. "I don't know. Went out this morning, hasn't come back yet. Didn't tell me where." He avoided using 'He' in that sentence. Not like that was needed anyway.
Agravaine's amusement grew.

"You don't think she's cheating on you, are you?", Agravaine asked and shook his head in mock sympathy. Why was he saying that? To taunt Merlin? "Since she's not here and you don't even know where she is?

"She would never!", Merlin shot back. And then – blanked.
'Wait. Did I just -?!' Merlin was confused. Did this not count as a lie? That was strange.

Maybe he just went with the flow of Agravaine's words and that didn't count as lying then? Merlin really didn't know how this enchantment worked.

"So sad. To trust someone so much – how bad do you think will the betrayal feel?"
Merlin didn't blink, he didn't answer either. Why was Agravaine so quick to make such a wild guess? That was SO rude!
"Right. Right. Of course. Anyway, I need you in Camelot. There is someone I need to get rid of."

Merlin shuddered.
"It's time for you to be the shadow again, Emrys. MY shadow. I know that Leon made the whole thing with you having a clue where the prince is up. I don't know how you got Morgana on your side to cover for you. But it's time to get rid of her."
Agravaine was still thinking out loud.
"By the way – if we pass your wife – you should kill her on the spot. I really don't need someone to try and stop us."

Merlin began to sweat heavily. A killing order. That had been a while. And two at once as well. He closed his eyes. 'I won't kill Arthur.', he promised himself.
'I won't. I can't. And if it's possible, somehow – then I won't kill Morgana either!'

"Good then. Let's move."
Merlin followed like a puppet on a string. His eyes flaring red completely. Merlin had seen his eyes once like this. In a mirror. They looked like they were infected. Blood ridden, like an immense pressure rested on them. Not enough to make them explode. But strong enough to bruise them somehow.

Merlin watched Agravaine from behind, then dared to look back at the house. His eyes flashed golden for merely a second, as he found something he 'd been searching for. Then he turned back to Agravaine – who apparently hadn't noticed his sudden use of magic.
Typical non – mages. No idea when they were being played.

Merlin stopped in his tracks, as he turned around. Agravaine and him had barely managed to reach the road, as a woman stood in their way.
She looked sad. But beautiful anyway.
Merlin knew her. Knew her all too well. To see her again – now – was painful. He had not forgotten her – but he had long moved on.
How dare she return now?

A deep, dark pain interfered with his inner conflict of leaving Arthur. Long lost love and guild for moving on rising to the surface once more.

"Freya?", he asked in a wave of emotion, hurt and regret evident in his tone. Why now?
Agravaine seemed to see that very well. And – as the fool that he was – misjudged Merlin's reaction for something else. As though this was simply regret for betraying her on Agravaine's orders. He misjudged who she was.

"Is she your wife?", Agravaine asked, an amused smile on his lips. Freya looked at Agravaine as though she had known he would come sooner of later.
"I am – what of it?", she said, her arms crossed, her tone in a warning.
Agravaine smiled, but Merlin was too confused to speak up. Which was probably a good thing not to do right now. Freya looked like she knew exactly what was going on. And what she was doing.

'Merlin.', she transmitted to him with the telepathic link that all druids – and Merlin – shared.

'It's good to see you, Freya.', he transmitted back through their mind connection. 'I – how are you here? What are you saying? I would have – I -', Merlin didn't even know what he was going to say. He was too stunned to see her here. In flesh and blood and alive after so many years of mourning her loss.

'We don't have time. But I know what's going on. This moment was prophesied. You have to kill me. Now.'

Merlin blinked. 'What?', it was hard to keep his outburst of pain hidden.
'If you kill me now, he will believe that I am your wife. And he will move on when he's convinced I'm dead. Then Arthur is safe. Don't worry, I won't really die. I'm already dead. I'm the lady of the lake. A spirit. No matter what you do – I cannot and I will not die. So please, hurry and protect Arthur.'

Merlin stared at her. Wondering. Doubting. Being afraid for her and of this choice.
The conversation was quick, as was the decision, because it needed to be.

She looked certain. Merlin couldn't deny this. And she sounded serious. Merlin hardly had a choice, did he?
'I trust you.', Merlin send back to her and raised his hand in an absolute motion. He send her flying backwards, nothing more. She was not his real wife. He didn't HAVE to kill her. He wouldn't try to – not even when she couldn't die anyway.
This was Freya. He would never hurt her.
Agravaine seemed to have noticed his hesitation though, despite the order, and he walked forwards to check on her vitals. Just to make sure Merlin hadn't suddenly learned to disobey him.

He grinned, as he looked at Merlin. "You've done well, Emrys. She's dead."

'What an idiot, am I right?'. Freya send to Merlin reassuringly. 'I'm a spirit. I have no pulse and I don't breathe.'
Merlin had never felt such relief before.

Agravaine was too sure of himself – of his orders. Of his power. He hardly questioned Merlin's actions anymore at this point. Freya lay dead in the grass. Allegedly.
Her thin frame pale and motionless in the sunlight.
'We really need to stop meeting like this.', Merlin send to her tiredly. Meaning, her appearing for one god damn day and then disappearing forever again right after.

He really hoped Agravaine didn't see the smile that tugged on her dead lips at that.

"Come with me now. Throw her body in the lake, or something, so she won't be found.", Agravaine said, still not noticing the lack of emotional reaction in Merlin's expression. Maybe – because Merlin was just stunned and confused at the sudden turn of events.

Merlin nodded, his head held down. As he rose the lady of the lake into the air and tossed her into the lake. Honestly – Agravaine could have made him make her disappear in so many ways. And ironically he chose to order Merlin to send her home.
What. An. Idiot.

He would go with Agravaine, he knew that. But at least Arthur was safe. For now.

Actually, he wasn't. Merlin realized with a painful start. Arthur wasn't. Because right now it didn't matter WHO Arthur was. If he was the prince or not was of no matter anymore.
Agravaine had given him the order to kill his wife. Chances were, Merlin's magic would react to Arthur to kill him immediately, should they ever reunite. If he could call him 'she' in that conversation earlier – then the order would make no difference if he called him husband or wife. Arthur would never be safe with Merlin ever again.
Merlin would never see him again. He couldn't – not if he wanted him to live. He closed his eyes, realization washing over him.
Pain and fear taking over. He hated Agravaine. He hated him so much. He always had. Now it was even worse.

-----------------------------

Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot stalked through the forest quietly. Far too quietly for either of their tastes but Arthur's.
Arthur – who was barefooted still. Who wore wet and sandy clothes and who was mourning the loss of his father, grieving the betrayal of his husband, regretting his life choices in the past two years and fearing for the future.
He dragged the magic sword with him, like it could burn him any second and his headache was getting worse with each step.
He could barely move from the pain – but he refused to sit down now.

He refused to face the consequences of his word exchange with Katie earlier. He refused to regret calling them monsters. Because they – despite their powers – just left him alone to fight his war against the current king. Like magic users always did. Like the druids always did.
That – or they betrayed him.

A druid boy whom Arthur had saved years ago was king now. The memories came back one by one. Slower now – since the most of them had already resurfaced painfully.
It hurt enough to make Arthur only focus on his breathing. And on the pain in his feet, when he walked on rocky roads or the wild ground.

He was pretty sure he had cut his feet open. And at this point he was quite glad for it – because it distracted the pain in his mind with the burning sensation he felt with every step.

"Are you sure, we shouldn't go and take Merlin with us?", Gwaine asked after a while. The name itself send anger boiling through Arthur's system.
"Absolutely.", he said. But it was not an answer – it was an order. It meant : "Don't you dare ever speak of that name again!"

Lancelot had been contemplating his opinion ever since they began walking. And it was already dark. "Won't he come searching for you at some point?", he asked carefully.
"If he does, I'll run him through with the sword.", Arthur retorted, his grip around the magic sword tightening.

Gwaine frowned. "You won't kill Merlin! Not on my watch!", he dared, but that only made Arthur stop and point the sword at him.
"In case you haven't listened – Merlin is immortal! He would survive this!"
"He wouldn't – and you know it. The sword is designed to kill the undead, Arthur! I'm pretty sure that includes immortals.", Gwaine gave back, but he sounded more worried than mad.
Of course. He was a bit confused in his morals right now.

Certain to defend Merlin at all costs – but he understood Arthur's reaction. Well – kind of.
Arthur's face twisted into something – regretful – worried – surprised. 'Would Merlin really make me a weapon that could actually kill him?', he wondered. And a part of him found it easy to believe. The other was mad at him for even suggesting it.

Right. He should have known that. Didn't they mention that before? He could hardly remember. The pain in his head kind of mixed up his new memories with old ones.
He hadn't actually meant to speak of murdering Merlin anyway. He knew he couldn't run Merlin through. Which was a painful thought in itself.

Merlin truly had him wrapped around his fingers. That even now – after the betrayal – after he felt like his heart was bleeding out – he still wanted to trust Merlin.
Merlin was a monster – but the more time passed – the more painful steps he made – the more obvious he felt the distance between him and his husband.

A man he had given his kingdom up for. Because he loved him.
Did he still? Arthur felt another stab in his heart. No, he didn't, he decided. He couldn't. Not the murderer of his father. Not the man who tried to kill Morgana. Not the man who fought wars in the name of another king and slaughtered innocents for their profit.
No – not ....
Arthur closed his eyes with a deep breath as he could see Merlin in his mind. Crying from nightmares, where he remembered everything he had done. Confided in Arthur. Apologized to someone he didn't even know he had to apologize to.
Arthur remembered long night conversations. Merlin's regrets. Merlin's fears.
He knows every scar on Merlin's body. Some of them, Merlin doesn't even know how he got them. Or why.

There was a massive burn on Merlin's chest. Nimueh did that. Nimueh who is dead. But Merlin didn't remember why he killed her.
There were scars of torture – scars of working in secret for many years. Scars of misdirected crossbows. Of arrows stuck in his body. Small scars that now that Arthur remembers, might have come from goblets he had personally thrown at Merlin.

Arthur shook his head. He was spiraling again. Merlin's pain was not the same as Merlin's deeds. Him regretting his life choices didn't make up for the fact that he unleashed the Dragon on Camelot. So many people had died for that!
So many people had died because of Merlin.

He felt even more tears sting in his eyes and Lancelot seemed to finally notice his distress.
"Maybe, we should take a break.", he said calmly. Kindly.
"We're all tired. So much happened today.", he said and put an arm on Arthur's shoulder.
Arthur faintly nodded and Gwaine seemed to agree as well.

They decided to make up camp right here. Gwaine and Lancelot had taken their belongings with them – as they hadn't wanted to leave them at the shore. So at least they had some food they could share.
And ale. Gwaine always made a point of bringing enough ale on a trip to get drunk for a whole weekend.

Arthur was too tired to move any further. So he let Lancelot and Gwaine prepare the fire for them. He just curled up on the ground, inspecting his dirty feet. They were covered in blood and crust and if he wasn't careful – they would soon get infected. He could already hear Merlin's voice in his head. "Arthur, seriously? Can't you take care of yourself?", and then he would just heal him and everything would be fine.
Arthur closed his eyes at the thought.

He heard a noise – someone shuffling the leafs. And for a second – a blissful, painful, second where the noise made him forget everything else he had been thinking about – he thought Merlin would stumble through the bushes and do just that. Lecture him on health care. And the importance of shoes.

But it was just Gwaine, who carried a whole lot of wood in his arms. He noticed Arthur's hopeful expression though. And saw it dampen at the realization that it was just him. Just Gwaine.
Arthur bit his lip.

He was so used to seeing Merlin everywhere. He was so used to being happy with him. It kinda hurt to know it was all a lie.
It was all pretend. It confused Arthur. He shouldn't hope to see Merlin. He shouldn't be used to it. He shouldn't -
He shuddered another breath at his inner conflict.
Years of love and devotion don't just pass at the revelation that someone betrayed you. It just doesn't. It made it hurt even worse.

"It's just you.", Arthur said damply, since Gwaine wasn't moving.
"Who were you expecting?"

Arthur didn't answer that. He stared at his hands instead. The golden ring on his right hand. Gold. Gold was Merlin's color. The color of his eyes when he did magic.
Right in front of Arthur. The audacity, the irony.
Arthur used to love it. Merlin looked so free doing magic. So happy to be himself – finally. With Arthur. As much as he could with half his memories blurred.
Magic was a wonder, was what Arthur had concluded from that. Magic could make you see life more intensely. More lovely. More beautiful.
Merlin used to tell him how he could feel magic everywhere around him.
And that Merlin's magic seemed happiest when performed for Arthur.

"You're acting strange, Arthur.", Gwaine finally said. "Did you think I was Merlin?"
The question made Arthur flinch. Which was enough confirmation for Gwaine that he was right. Irritated, the man sat down in front of Arthur and began piling up the wood for a fire.
"I know you hate magic, Arthur. And I know you're mad at Merlin. But that look just now – what was that? You're not making sense. And that's coming from ME!"

'How did you know anyway?'
Arthur frowned. Glared even. Good thing Lancelot wasn't here to hear this conversation. He was still out – collecting more fire wood.
Arthur sighed. And dazed out again. He didn't have it in him to talk about this. It was all so much. Too much for Arthur to handle at least.

Gwaine threw up his hands. For one because he was done with Arthur's bullshit – for another he was just really incapable of making a fire.

"Arthur, seriously. You're acting like you just learned your wife cheated on you!"

Oh god damn it and how Gwaine just hit the mark. Not quite the eye of the target – but pretty damn close. What was it with people assuming a marriage was husband and wife anyway?
Marriage was a vow to spend the rest of your life with another person. Nothing more – nothing less. God, Arthur would have to divorce Merlin. Because until death does us part only works, if Arthur dies. Since Merlin just – won't. Probably. Arthur's heart ached at the thought.

He covered his face as he winced at those words.
Of all the comparisons Gwaine could have made – did he really have to use that one?

"Holy shit. You are in love with him!", Gwaine began, but laughed a little. He shook his head, disbelieve evident in his features. Arthur groaned.
"Was.", Arthur gave back, but his heart squeezed at the obvious lie. He wasn't over it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 'God I hope that's not true.'

"Yeah sure. Have you even told him yet?", Gwaine asked, but there was a shit eating grin on his face. 'That one -' Arthur grimaced. '- is so unnecessary.' Hadn't Arthur suffered enough?
"Honestly, I'm so sorry for him.", Gwaine tried to humor Arthur. To cheer him up. Maybe he didn't believe a thing he was just pointing out. Accurately pointing out.

This wasn't funny at all.
Arthur stood up, ignoring the pain in his feet.
He walked away, just a couple of steps, but Gwaine hadn't stopped making fun of him yet.

"Or were you two actually together? Is that why you're reacting like that?"

"Like what?", Arthur hissed out, not turning around yet.
"I don't know? Like someone pissed into your water or something.", Arthur didn't need to see Gwaine to know he shrugged.

"I know you hate magic – but now you're what – confused? Angry? Hurt? Because you were together and your boyfriend turned out to be the one who murdered your father? That's it, isn't it!", Gwaine pointed at him like he just put two and two together.
So close to the truth and yet so far away.

"Come on – Arthur. I know you. I know how reserved you are when it comes to love and stuff. How long have you been together?
Have you even kissed him yet? Is that what makes you so angry because you remember now that he used to be your servant?"

Arthur was holding his breath now. The anger in him unraveling. He knew, if Gwaine wasn't going to shut up, he would soon throw something at him. Anything – just anything.
He would throw a shoe – if he had one.

"I'm right, aren't I?", Gwaine sighed with the passion of a disappointed father. "Look, mate – if it's just a kiss – you two can get over it. It's nothing to worry a – what the hell?"

Arthur has had enough. He pulled his ring from his finger and threw it at Gwaine's head.
Turning around, fury in his eyes. The ring hit Gwaine right at his forehead and landed quietly on the grass beneath his feet.

"Shut the FUCK UP, Gwaine!", was all Arthur could say – before he realized his breathing was going too frantic. His words too close to sobbing, his tears to close to shedding.
Shuddering, wobbling in his stance, Arthur wiped away the tears and turned around again.
"I'm going for a walk.", he said. He needed to be alone.
Gwaine was left sitting there – in front of the unlit fire. His eyes wide from realization as he picked up the golden ring.
He kept staring after Arthur – even as he had long disappeared into the forest.
"I was kidding.", Gwaine regretted.

----------------------------------

Lancelot came back just in time to see Gwaine pick up something from the ground, while Arthur just shouted at him to shut up.
His back disappeared into the forest. Gwaine frozen in his seat, staring at the object in his hand. Talking to himself, as though he hadn't noticed Lancelot arriving.

Lancelot sighed, before sitting down next to Gwaine.
He sighed even deeper as he saw the wood that Gwaine had collected. Was he an amateur or something? There is wood that burns easily and then there is wood that only burns if the fire is already lit! With this crap he would never manage to make a fire!
He had collected dark woods that were slightly wet. Lancelot shook his head and build up his own wood. Pale colored – dry wood. Burns a lot easier than the other stuff they had collected.
Lancelot didn't know the names to the trees these branches were from – but Gwen had shown him what they looked like. Back, when they had escaped Camelot.

"What did you say to him?", Lancelot asked exasperated.

Gwaine didn't answer.

"Gwaine -", Lancelot repeated himself annoyed.

Wordlessly, Gwaine reached out his hand. He wasn't even looking at Lancelot – who now had to stop making the fire to receive the object that Gwaine had found on the ground.

The object was small and hard and GOLDEN!
Lancelot stared at it, slightly confused for a second. "Did you -", he asked, absolutely irritated now.
Gwaine was still quiet – he looked utterly distraught. Something that lay beyond surprised, but wasn't quite shock. It was a horror that came from realization and sympathy, not fear.

"Did you just get rejected?"
Gwaine turned around – a flabbergasted look on his face. "I didn't propose to him – if that's what you're asking."
Lancelot frowned, turning the ring in his hand.
"Then what's this?", Lancelot asked.

"Arthur and Merlin are married.", Gwaine said slowly, as if to prepare Lancelot for the words, and yet like he was ripping of a bandage.

Lancelot gasped. "WHAT?", he exclaimed, staring at Gwaine with an open mouth.

A few beats of silence stretched between them. Enough time to stare and process what he just heard and -
"They are WHAT!!!!!", Lance repeated.
"Holy - ", he caught another breath. Nope. Breathing wasn't enough.
"When the hell – how ? What?"
He kept breathing – trying to get his own shock under control.

"What the fuck?", he said, receiving an odd look from Gwaine.

"FUCK!", Lancelot repeated himself, startling Gwaine. Who was surprised. Who wouldn't be? Lancelot never swore. NEVER. It was a testimony to his character that he never did.
But now he was standing up in utter confusion. A weird mix of glee and surprise and shock and actual distress in his voice.

"When the fuck did THIS happen.", he pointed at the ring like he had never seen such a thing before. Which was honestly ironic, since he had a similar one on his own ring finger.

Gwaine eyed him equally distressed.
"I mean – If you think about it – it's not THAT surprising. They've always been close. But this -", Gwaine shook his head. "Last time I saw him – he was still head over heals for Gwen. And now I see you guys again and Gwen married you! Who is apparently her first love and Arthur married MERLIN.
I know you don't remember – but they bickered so much all the time. I – GOD!
No WONDER he's acting all stressed out!", Gwaine pulled at his own hair, while Lancelot just kept repeating himself: "What the actual FUCK! What the FUCK!"

"And I -", Gwaine sounded regretful. "And I teased him for it! I was just kidding! I knew they were living together – but who would have thought -", he interrupted himself. He never knew Arthur as a romantic sap who allowed himself to be happy. That was far more surprising than knowing who he was married to. Just the fact itself – mind blowing.

"What the fuck.", Lancelot still whispered to himself. Inspecting the ring like it was going to burst into multiple copies of itself in a matter of seconds.

"I think he needs some time. Let's give him some space.", Gwaine said worriedly and looked after where Arthur had left.
He really – really hoped – he was doing the right thing just now.

"Yeah – so do I!", Lancelot gave back. "What. The. Actual. Fuck. Gwaine!"