Merlin watches through the slit of the wardrobe, eyes following the red clad knights as they search through the room. His whole body trembles, not from fear but anger. Hatred. An emotion that he has buried away for a long time and yet one that he still welcomes with open arms. The allure of it is too great. Too strong. The promises that are whispered into his ears as he watches those men stalk back and forth are too tempting.

His hands grip tightly at the dresses around him, causing the fabric to crease and fold under his hold. As the men continue to shuffle about, oblivious, the warlock's stare bores into their backs like a demon hunting for its next meal. Magic stirs throughout the wardrobe, causing the dresses to dance with his power and the wood to creak at the pressure. His magic urges him to reach out, to show those men a taste of his strength. A taste of what they had done to his mother and father. Of what they had done to him. He wants to tear those capes off their shoulders, use it to strangle them where they stand. He wants to drive their own blade through their chests and dye that haunting cape an even deeper scarlet.

When one of the men, a blond with curly hair and a light beard, appears in his line of sight and starts to approach his magic flares with glee. An opportunity. A victim.

He hears Morgana trying to stop him, hears her teasing remarks and silently he wishes for her to stop. To let the man open the wardrobe. To let him see. To give his magic an excuse to attack. So, when he finds the crack before him enlarging, growing in size as the doors are opened his magic surges up from the depths. His eyes glow golden and when the man's face appears in front of him, looking confused he prepares to lash out. To release all the pent up energy and hatred inside of him at the poor knight who had the misfortune of opening the wardrobe doors, but something stops him. A look. A pair of eyes. Ones that don't stare at him in fear or disgust, but ones that stare at him with a look of sympathy. Apparent understanding.

His magic subsides, the golden glow in his irises dimming as the man stares at him for a moment longer. This man isn't bad. He doesn't mean any harm. Just because he wears that cape does not mean that he will hurt him. The knight seems to see the slight shift in his mood and gives him a small smile before shutting the doors of the wardrobe. "Come on," he says, turning away and waving at the other knights, "we have plenty of other rooms to search."

The knights clear out and after waiting another moment Merlin peers out from his hiding spot, just slightly.

"Thank you, Leon," he hears Morgana say, giving the man a warm hug, "but why?"

The man, Leon, scratches the back of his head, "Well," he says, "I trust Arthur and I trust you. If you are both willing to risk your lives to hide him then... he must not be as bad as the king claims."

Morgana gives him another smile before he turns to leave, shutting the door gently behind him. Merlin crawls out from his hiding space right after, shivering and trembling from the mad rush that had enveloped him only minutes before.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. And out.

His heart starts to calm it's rhythmic pounding, slowing to its usual pace as he sits down in one of the chairs. His arms move up to wrap around himself, clutching tightly as they still shake. He knows what he had tried to do to those men were wrong. That the thoughts in his head are no better than that of the king. But still he couldn't help himself. Couldn't stop the whispers in his head as they urged him on. Chanted for him to exact his revenge on all those that bear the Pendragon crest.

And he realizes that deep down he regrets not allowing his magic to tear those men to shreds.

------

The dungeons are silent for a few days before the king returns. He's fuming as he follows the twisting paths and stops in front of the cell that he's grown all too familiar with. He knocks against the bars, jolting his son awake from his slumber. The prince glares up at his father, eyes narrowed in defiance. Uther stares back with an equally intimidating glare, not willing to back down to anyone. Especially not to his own son. "I will give you one last chance," Uther says in a commanding tone, "tell me where you have hidden that sorcerer and perhaps I will reconsider your punishment."

"I won't betray him to save myself. A king should always put his people before their own life," Arthur says.

"Not when they're sorcerers. That lad deserves none of your kindness. He has done nothing for you. In a few years he'll return to kill you and take your throne."

"I know Merlin and he would never do such a thing."

The king scoffs, "A naive and foolish thought. If you continue to think in such a manner this kingdom is doomed."

Arthur's fists clench at his sides. For years now he has sought his father's approval. He has done everything he can to make his father proud and to let him know that his kingdom is in good hands. Yet, it seems his father has seen none of it. All that man cares about is his hatred for magic. "If you don't change your narrow-minded views then this kingdom is already doomed."

The king lurches forward, appearing as though he were attempting to reach his arms through the bars to strangle the young prince, but he stops himself. He grasps onto the bars, leaning in close as he growls through his teeth, "If you continue to refuse to obey then you leave me with no choice," the king takes in a deep breath, his face turning cold and stoic. Arthur shivers at the sight. He recognizes that look. "Arthur Pendragon, I hear by sentence you to death by beheading."

Arthur can only stare in wide eyed disbelief as his father turns away from him, not bothering to look his son in the eyes. The prince launches forwards, hands gripping at the bars until his knuckles turned white. His voice quivers as the fear starts to take over, as it begins to consume his mind and twist everything around him. He finds the words fumbling in his mouth as he tries to speak. "Y-you can't be serious," he says, voice sounding much higher than normal.

The king scoffs. "I gave you a warning and you chose not to heed it. If you are willing to hand over that Merlin boy than I will repeal the sentence."

Arthur swallows the lump in his throat. He tries to calm himself, to stop his voice from shaking as he looks at the king with resolve. "No. That is the one thing I will never do."

The king scowls, "then you will die tomorrow."

"Then you'll have no heir. Is that alright with you? There will be no one to continue your legacy."

The king just smirks, "I have another heir. And I know she'll do a much better job."

As the king walks away with his head held high Arthur can only stare in stunned silence as one name comes to mind. The name of the one person his father appeared to ever care about.

Morgana.

-----

There's a knock against the chamber door and Morgana leaps to her feet immediately at the sound. Again she ushers Merlin towards the wardrobe while Gwen quickly pretends to dust the mantle, no one knowing who could be on the other side. Perhaps Leon had told the knights. Or maybe someone had grown suspicious of her sudden increase in appetite. Whatever the reason she keeps her guard up as she opens the door with a smile. What she finds on the other side catches her by surprise and she can't tell whether it's better or worse. There's Arthur standing at the door, shoulders hunched and eyes rimmed with red as though he hasn't slept in days. He staggers in and kicks the door shut behind him.

"Are you both ready to leave?" he asks, settling down in one of the chairs, voice devoid of all emotion.

At the sound of the prince's voice Merlin emerges from the wardrobe, a wide grin on his face as he launches at his lover. Arthur smiles at the sight, the weariness fading as he wraps his arms around the boy and holds him tight to his chest. His shoulders relax at the warlock's touch, his eyes seem a little brighter and his expression softer, the hardened lines of stress gone. He pulls back a little, only loosening his grip enough so that he could see the boy's face. Merlin smiles at him, a childish grin that warms the prince's heart. It makes him think that everything he's done so far is worth it. That everything he's about to do is worth it as long as that carefree grin can stay on the warlock's - no, all sorcerers - faces from here on out. Arthur returns the smile, trying to hide the weariness in his movements as he leans in to give the boy a quick peck on the lips. Merlin shuffles back a little, face red with embarrassment as he looks to Morgana and Gwen behind him. Gwen just sends him a sweet smile while Morgana sighs, shaking her head a little as she walks over to the two with her arms crossed. "If you just came here for a kiss then I would have preferred if you continued this in the wardrobe where I can't see," she says though there is still a playful smirk on her face.

Arthur sighs, letting go of Merlin as he rummages in his pockets for the folded up letter Gaius had delivered to him that morning. He hands it over to Morgana, giving her a chance to read the words while Merlin and Gwen look over her shoulder. When she finally finishes she sets the parchment down on the table, turning her gaze up to the prince who is now standing by the window, staring out into the courtyard. "You're sending us to the Druids?" she asks.

Arthur turns to face her. "It's the only place that I know where both of you can be kept safe," he says, "I was only going to send Merlin there before but after your earlier... revelation I decided that it would be best for you to go as well. They can teach you, help you learn to control your magic and-" He stop himself before he can say anymore. He doesn't need to tell her about what his father - their father - had said. She already has enough on her mind.

Morgana doesn't reply. She looks down at the letter, knowing that this is going to be the best outcome she could get. After all what could she gain from staying in Camelot? She can hide and only hide. Uther would never allow her to practice magic nor would he be pleased to hear that his ward is a witch. The safest option for her is to disappear. To leave and learn how to control the power within her.

"Are you not coming?" Merlin asks, his voice quiet as he glances down at the letter then up to the prince. "The letter only mentions Morgana and I. Does that mean you aren't coming?"

Arthur turns his gaze away, knowing that if he stares at those eyes any longer he would give in. "No," he says with resolve, trying to keep his voice from wavering, "No I'm not." He risks a glance back towards Merlin and the look he finds on the warlock's face is almost enough to make him take back his words. He can't tear his gaze away. Those sorrow filled eyes lock him into place, keeping him grounded as the boy stares at him with a look that seems to convey everything all at once. He can see the worry that wretches at his heart, the pain of needing to let the prince go, and the desperation from wanting to keep the prince there at his side regardless of what anyone else says.

A warm hand grasps his, their fingers interlacing together. The warmth is comforting and the feel of the other hand in his own keeps him from shaking. He looks to Merlin beside him who has his head down as he stares at their entwined hands. "Do you have to stay?" He asks, his grip tightening at the words.

Arthur averts his gaze, trying to pull his hand away but Merlin holds firm, refusing to let go. "I need to. This kingdom won't change without me," the prince says.

Merlin tightens his grip further. "No! You're coming with us! I'm not losing you. I'm not letting you go!" He clutches onto the prince's arm, hugging it like a lifeline and perhaps to the boy it was. For years now he's been locked away in that cell. For years he's been kept away from everything he holds dear. It's only natural for him now to want to hold on to everything around him. To keep it safe right by his side.

Arthur knows this as he stares at the boy beside him, shaking with fear and worry as he clings to the man he loves. He reaches a hand out, wanting to agree. Wanting to take the warlock's other hand and hold on for dear life. But he looks around him. He looks at the people wandering about outside, their fear of magic lingering over them like a spell stronger than any a real sorcerer could conjure up. Then he looks to Morgana. She's only just discovered her magic but like Merlin she never had a choice. She didn't choose to practice magic and he knows she would never use it for selfish purposes. He wants to protect her. Wants her to be able to live in a kingdom where she can be accepted for who she is. And who else is there that can change that but him? If Uther discovers that Morgana is a witch he would have her burned at the stake.

Lastly he looks back down at Merlin, at the boy who his father had kept locked away. He wants to give him his life back. Return his freedom, his magic, his happiness, everything. He wants to show the warlock the world. Wants to show him all the things he was never able to before. He'll take him out to see the forest, the lake, the lower town, all the townspeople, and maybe, if they're lucky, he'll finally show Merlin what a unicorn is.

Arthur raises a hand, running it gently through the warlock's hair as he smiles at him. He moves the hand down, caressing the side of his face until his hand comes to rest by his cheek. The prince leans in, planting a kiss on the boy's lips. He wants to memorize the feel. To implant it in his memory forever. He keeps their hands entwined, holding it close to their hearts.

Eventually, he pulls away. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay," he whispers and gently he untwines their fingers and, with a smile, lets go.