So sorry for the lateness. Hope you enjoy.

Part 3: The One Where Everyone Figures It Out

Arthur was left standing in the middle of the corridor, feeling particularly dense. Of course, it was only after Merlin kissed him that he understood. He touched his fingers to his lips, and abruptly noticed his hand was trembling. He had to consciously force his fingers to close into a fist.

He'd kissed Gwen a hundred times now, and she'd never made him feel as if his whole world was crashing down around him, burning and bruising, ending too soon—before he'd actually had a chance to see how good it can feel to lose himself in passion and fire. It had been-

He didn't know how he'd missed it. Well, actually he did. He'd missed it because he wanted to. Because men weren't supposed to fall in love with men, because he was a prince, and because he'd wanted himself to be in love with Gwen. He groaned, leaning back against the wall and putting his head in his hands. She was going to be devastated.

It wasn't that he didn't care about her; it was that he loved Merlin. Merlin with his stupid ears and his stupid neckerchiefs and his stupid back-talking and his stupid flirting with Lancelot. Arthur groaned louder. Merlin, who obviously didn't feel the same. Merlin, who obviously was in love with Lancelot, because he'd made it very clear that he'd only kissed Arthur because of a spell.

And somehow that only made it worse. Because, he could have lived in denial forever if Merlin hadn't kissed him. But now he knew. And he also knew that Merlin had regretted kissing him. It had been so easy to read on his face.

Arthur flinched when he heard footsteps coming from the direction Gwen had run off and abruptly turned the opposite way. He just couldn't face her right then. Couldn't face anyone.

Lancelot found Merlin ducked under the stable doors, his head in his hands. He wasn't shaking as if he was crying, but Lancelot could tell he had been. He plucked down next to him, heaving a sigh. He was still stinging from Gwen's words, even though he knew he had no right to be hurt anymore. She had moved on; why couldn't he?

"What happened?" he asked, laying a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"I couldn't control myself," Merlin answered, not bothering to lift his head. "The spell was meant to affected inhibitions. Turn them off. Make us act without thought for consequences."

"How do you know that?" Lancelot asked.

"I recognized some of the words she said when she cast," Merlin shrugged. As if that wasn't impressive.

"I guess that makes sense about Guinevere," Lancelot muttered, and he could still remember the way she'd looked with the tears running down her face. The hopeless look in her eyes. "You were both hit with the same spell."

"Yeah," Merlin answered, his voice low and full of guttural pain. "She was yelling at me to stop pretending I didn't want him."

"Merlin-."

"I guess she's always known how I felt about Arthur."

"Merlin, you can't help how you feel," Lancelot said, his hand heavy against Merlin's shoulder. He hoped it was comforting, even if his words weren't.

"What did she say to you?" Merlin asked, raising his head to look up at Lancelot. His eyes were red, though not wet. He'd obviously cried, though it had been a while since he'd stopped.

"She saw how you looked at him," Lancelot told him. He wondered if Merlin could see the pain that flashed through the back his eyes at the memory. At the way Gwen had seemed so hurt at the idea. If so, he didn't say anything. "She knows you're in love with him."

"I kissed him," Merlin said, and Lancelot couldn't exactly say that he was surprised. If he'd gotten a magic whatever-spell thrown on him, he probably would have kissed Guinevere too, as wrong as that was. As much as he would have regretted it. And he could tell Merlin regretted it.

"Arthur cares about you," he said, squeezing Merlin's shoulder again. "You guys will figure it out."

Arthur sighed as he looked around his empty room. It had been three days. Three days of awkward silences and strange looks and Merlin staring at him as if he were afraid Arthur was going to bite him or something. He poked at his breakfast, staring moodily out the window. Three days ago, Merlin would have been tidying up his room while he ate—never mind how improper that was—and talking and joking and making fun of Arthur all the while.

And it wasn't just Merlin who was acting strange, but Gwen too. Every time she turned the corner and saw him, she would blush to the roots of her hair and turn away. He couldn't help remembering how she'd run off crying the night Merlin had kissed him. Merlin had said she'd been affected by the same spell Merlin had been, and he wondered vaguely just what she'd done that was so bad.

He figured it couldn't actually be worse than realizing you were in love with your manservant and best friend.

Consequently, they hadn't talked. Which was probably for the best as Arthur had no idea what to even begin to say. Did they continue on, even though he didn't love her, or did they break it off completely, even though Merlin couldn't love him?

They hadn't found Lady Hathor either. After the feast, it was like she and her entire entourage had disappeared into thin air, leaving him no sorceress to blame for his recent increase of bad luck.

He sighed again, leaning his head against the window as he fingered his goblet. Which was empty, of course. He jerked upright as he saw a red neckerchief bobbing through the courtyard. He followed the color until it was clear from the flash of black hair that it was indeed Merlin dashing across the courtyard. Arthur could just make out the way his mouth twisted down, his head bent low as he walked.

Merlin walked another few feet before stopping in front of a knight. They talked for a minute or so before Merlin smiled abruptly, tilting his head up just enough for Arthur to catch the way his black hair stuck up in a tangled mess. And then he was waving to the knight, walking away as he did, his smile dropping off his face so fast, it could have never been there.

Arthur stood, feeling his anger and frustration burning through him. He couldn't understand what he had done that was so wrong, that could possibility make Merlin so miserable. It wasn't as if Merlin knew Arthur's feelings, and if Arthur had to stand in front of him and lie about it, then he would. But he was going to talk to the idiot, because really, if Merlin was going to go around acting as if Arthur had betrayed him, then they were going to have to talk.

It only took him a few minutes to head down the stairs, moving through a couple corridors before stopping in front of Gaius' chambers. He could hear clattering from inside, someone moving around. Arthur took a deep breath; he had to talk to Merlin, no matter what happened. He had to. They couldn't continue on the way they were. He pushed open the door.

"Merlin," Gaius called as soon as the door creaked. He didn't even bother to turn, still bent over his beakers as he was. "If you're done with all your chores, we really need to talk about that inhibition spell!"

"Gaius?" Arthur answered, blinking at the physician's back. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, You're majesty.?" Gaius spun around, tensing as he turned to face Arthur. "I didn't realize it was you."

"Are you talking about the spell that was cast on Merlin a couple days ago?" Arthur asked, ignoring Gaius' attempt at formality. "Merlin said it was a love spell." Gaius frowned at him, one eyebrow raised as he looked over his spectacles, and Arthur suddenly knew he didn't have all the information.

"Merlin told you that?" Gaius answered, one eyebrow raising. And honestly, Gaius and Merlin had never been spectacular liars, but it had never occurred to Arthur before that moment that Merlin was lying to him about the spell.

"It wasn't a love spell?" he asked.

"I… wouldn't know," Gaius said. "I'm sure Merlin had a perfectly reasonable explanation for believing it to be."

"Gaius," Arthur answered.

"As far as I can tell, it was only an inhibition spell," Gaius said with a sigh. "Anyone who was effect would have had their inhibitions lowered to the point where they said or did the first thing that popped into their head without a thought to the consequences. Merlin has been determined to forget about the entire thing for some reason."

"Well, that's…" he started, and he really didn't know how to finish, and he didn't have to, because he was already turning and leaving the room, his shoes clicking against the floor as he went. He and Merlin were going to talk.

Gwen sighed, shifting the sack of flour she had in her hands, so it was easier to carry. She hadn't seen Lancelot in three days, hadn't talked to Arthur, hadn't made eye-contact with Merlin. Merlin had taken her aside, tried to tell her there was no hard feelings, that they were under the effects of a spell. Gwen had nodded and smiled at him, but she hadn't really believed him.

She couldn't stop thinking about the horrible things they said to each other. He had thought she wanted Arthur, and she had thought Lancelot wanted him. She had been so angry, so self-righteous, and then Arthur had turned the corner, calling out to them, and Merlin had turned. She couldn't get the look in his eyes out of her head.

Merlin's eyes had been soft and intense and full of compassion. The way people only looked when they were in love. And she couldn't help thinking that she had never looked at Arthur like that.

It was no wonder Lancelot loved him, that Lancelot wanted to be with him.

Gwen couldn't stay with Arthur, knowing she didn't love him half as much as Merlin did. Even if Arthur didn't love Merlin, couldn't ever love Merlin the same way Merlin loved him, they both deserved more than watching her stand between them when her heart belonged to Lancelot. If she could only figure out the right way to tell Arthur all that.

She stopped next to one of the castle windows, looking out into the courtyard, hoping for a glance of—she didn't even know of what anymore. She sighed and turned away, coming face to face with Arthur.

"Gwen," he said.

"Oh," she answered, shifting the bag of flour against her hip. "Um, Arthur."

"We should talk," he told her, and she let her breath out in a loud puff. She supposed she should take it as a good sign that he thought so too.

"We should," she answered. He took the bag from her, setting it down against the wall, and she thought about how she would just have to pick it back up in a minute they were done but then forced herself dismissed the thought. He was just trying to be nice, in his Arthur way.

"I don't know what happened three days ago with the spell and Lady Hathor and Lancelot," Arthur said, his cheeks turning faintly red as he spoke, and Gwen could feel the sigh building in her, the frustration. She didn't want to hurt him. If he would just- "And I don't care," Arthur finished, and she blinked.

"I think deep down we both knew that what we had wasn't going to work," Arthur said, his eyes steady on his face, full of sadness. And she realized abruptly that it wasn't for losing her, but it was for hurting her.

"I'm still in love with Lancelot," she told him. Arthur's eyes widened, but she just stared back at him, wondering if he hadn't been talking about Lancelot, then what had he been talking about.

"Um, ok," he muttered. "I guess I missed that."

"I thought that's what you were going on about?" she asked.

"No," he answered, scratching the back of his head, averting his eyes before looking at her again. "I was- I was talking about how I feel about Merlin."

"Oh!" Gwen said, and she could already feel herself smiling, the corner of her lips pulling up at the thought of Arthur and Merlin together, even if Lancelot and she never worked things out between them. "Well, Merlin's in love with you too."

"What?" Arthur stared back at her, his blue eyes shining in the light from the window. "How do you know that?"

"Lancelot told me," Gwen answered.

"But Lancelot and Merlin…" Arthur trailed off, apparently coming to the same conclusion as Gwen—that while Lancelot might have been in love with Merlin, Merlin had just been spending time with a friend to avoid Arthur, who he loved, who also happened to be engaged to someone else.

Gwen forced herself to smile at Arthur as she remembered her spell-induced conversation with Lancelot, his confused dark eyes as he'd assured her that he cared that Merlin was in love with someone else, that it did bother him, but he stayed with Merlin because Merlin needed him, because it wasn't Merlin's fault.

"Thank you, Gwen," Arthur called, already taking off down the corridor. She stared after him, shaking her head as she bent to pick up the bag of flour.

Merlin stared down at the half-eaten breakfast still set on Arthur's table. Arthur wasn't even eating the food he was bringing now. As pathetic as he figured it would be to descend into a fit of self-pity over that little fact, Merlin couldn't help but want to.

He'd known Arthur would be uncomfortable by the kiss, but he thought if he said it was a spell, Arthur would be able to move on. But then Gwen had to guess how he felt, and Lancelot had confirmed it, and of course, she had told Arthur, and Merlin knew they would never be able to move on from that. He could tell from the way Arthur looked at him. The flicker of nerves, a hint of desperation, fear. As if he really thought Merlin was going to do something awful to him.

Merlin set one plate on top of another, creating a semi-stable stack as he moved. Unfortunately, right as he went to pick the stack up, the door swung open, and Merlin turned abruptly, watching as the dishes went flying. Arthur stared, his blue eyes wide as he took in the sight of three broken plates on the ground with almost an entire meal ruined with them.

Merlin sighed heavily, throwing his head back as he did. Arthur was supposed to be training, not interrupting Merlin in his own rooms.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin snapped at him; Arthur raised an eyebrow, somewhere between amused and annoyed.

"This is my room," he answered. And really, with the way his voice rumbled, and his blonde hair swept across his head as if he'd just run, his blue eyes shining, he was entirely too attractive to stay angry at. Merlin gave it his best. "I can be here if I want. You're the one that just broke a bunch of plates."

"You startled me," Merlin said, pursing his lips even as he watched Arthur step closer to him.

"Did I?" Arthur asked, and he sounded entirely too confident, one eyebrow raised, one side of his mouth turned up in a smirk. He looked like he did when he was seducing someone. Merlin took a step back, narrowing his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I ended things with Gwen," Arthur said, and Merlin blinked, wobbling on his feet for half a second as he stared. Arthur had what? He felt like the floor was falling out from under him, his eyes boggling out of his head as Arthur took another step toward him. "We both discovered we had feelings for someone else."

"You…what?" Merlin asked, the question echoing around in his head. He felt like he'd lost control of the conversation, no idea where he was anymore. Half convinced he was hallucinating. Arthur rolled his eyes, his next step forward putting him solidly in front of Merlin this time, close enough to touch.

"You, Merlin," he said. "I want you."

"But…" Merlin blinked. "But you-," fortunately, Arthur didn't let him get much further, his hand coming up to lock on the back of Merlin's neck, his head swooping in to attach his lips to Merlin's. And Merlin was collapsing into Arthur, falling into him and kissing him back with a passion that he didn't know he had.

Lancelot hesitated before stepping into the castle. He'd been avoiding it for the last three days, choosing instead to live between the barracks and the training field. But Arthur was an hour late to training already; someone had to make sure the prince was alive.

Granted, it could have been something as simple as Merlin having forgotten to wake Arthur up, but with Merlin as nervous as he already was, Lancelot somehow doubted that.

He moved through the castle corridor, feeling more nervous with each passing step. When he turned a corner a little too quickly, running straight into none other than Guinevere, he was abruptly reminded why. She dropped the bag of flour she was carrying, the light powder billowing up to cover the both of them in the white dust. Lancelot watched as she stared at him with something close to horror, her mouth opening and then closing and then opening again as her eyes were wide enough to be perfect circles.

"Lancelot," she said finally.

"Hello, Guinevere," he answered, already wanting to hit himself for being so stupid. He'd run into her, and now he was responding with 'Hello, Guinevere'? He abruptly ducked down, pinching the bag by the corner, but when he pulled on it, more flour came tumbling out, falling on his bracers and shoes in a large heap.

"You can't pick it up like that," Gwen said, her voice low and filled with amusement, and he sighed before looking back up at her. She was still beautiful, even covered in flour with her hair a mess from working all day. She was beautiful.

"My apologies for knocking it over in the first place," he answered, and she smiled at him, slow and sweet and completely Guinevere. Then she turned her face away, biting her lip.

"It's alright," she said. "You looked like you were in a hurry."

"I was looking for Arthur," he said, standing and watching as flour cascaded off of him and fell onto the ground around them. "He hasn't shown up to training today."

"Oh," Gwen blinked, biting her lip with more force now.

"You wouldn't happen to know where he was?" Lancelot asked, because as much as he hated it, she would be the person to ask. Arthur was courting her, after all.

"Um, he's with Merlin," she said, turning to look at him, and he blinked at the pity in her eyes. As if he should have been upset that Merlin and Arthur were finally working things out.

"Ah," he said, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You see," she started, her voice still laced with pity and guilt and pain. "Arthur realized he had feelings for Merlin the same way Merlin had feelings for him, and he went to go tell him."

"And are you alright?" Lancelot asked, half reaching out for her before letting his hand fall. He could only imagine how Gwen must have been feeling, to have Arthur tell her he didn't love her after all; she must have been devastated.

"Me?" she asked, frowning at him as if his question had made no sense. "Yes, I'm… We both decided it wasn't working, but… but aren't you upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"I thought…I thought you cared for Merlin."

"Only as a friend," Lancelot answered, and he felt somewhere between confused and surprised and uncertain. Had his behavior toward Merlin really been so misleading? He had never meant to make it seem as if he and Merlin were anything but good friends.

"Oh, so you…"

"My heart belongs to another," he said, and her eyes were on his face, intense, sharp, focused, and he didn't know why he did it, but it wasn't like she was courting Arthur anymore, and she had said it had been a mutual parting, and he was talking before he knew what was good for him, the words falling from his lips. "My heart belongs to you, Guinevere."

She stared at him, her eyes widening for one long eternity before she smiled widely, moving forward to meld herself against him, ignoring the flour and the armor and his sweat as she pressed her lips against his.

Merlin shuddered as Arthur hovered above him on the bed, his hips pressed against Merlin's as he moved. He didn't even know how they'd gotten to the bed, which was somehow probably supposed to be bad, but somehow wasn't anywhere near good enough.

Merlin gasped as Arthur thrust against him sharply, pulling his mouth away to breathe, and Arthur attacked his throat. He'd lost his neckerchief somewhere on the way to the bed, Arthur throwing it to the side with an annoyed grunt, and Merlin had a vague thought that no wonder all those women had found their way to Arthur's rooms if this was the way he kissed, and then Merlin was spiraling down the path of—what if this was all Arthur wanted from him too?

If he really wanted Merlin the way he'd seemed to want Gwen, shouldn't he be slowing down. Offering to court Merlin, saying sweet things and taking it slow. The terrifying thing was that Merlin had no idea what he would prefer, what was right.

"Arthur," he gasped, already half out of his mind with pleasure, but he knew. He knew there were things they needed to talk about. Things Arthur didn't know about him, things he needed to know before he could decide if he really wanted to be with him. He tugged on Arthur's shirt, and Arthur was pulling away, looking up at him with his pupils blown, his blue eyes filled with desire, and Merlin desperately wished he could just drown in them.

"Merlin," Arthur blinked hard, seeming to come back to himself. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," and Merlin groaned at him, because that was exactly the problem. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly he hurt.

"Arthur, there are things about me you don't know," he said, and he could hear the tension in his voice. The hard edge of worry.

"As long as you're not sleeping with Lancelot, we're good," Arthur answered, smiling slightly at his joke.

"What?" Merlin blinked at him, and Arthur waved his hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Nothing."

"Right," Merlin answered, frowned up at Arthur. "Well, no. That's not what I-."

"Look, Merlin, whatever it is," Arthur said, brushing his hand across Merlin's cheekbone, up into his tangled hair. "I trust you." He wondered if Arthur would still be saying that when he knew about Merlin's magic. When he knew how much he used it. He wondered if Arthur would still be laying in bed with him. "I love you, Merlin," Arthur whispered, his voice soft and sure across the space between them, and Merlin gasped quietly, feeling his eyes go wide. "Nothing's going to change that."

Merlin surged up, pressing his lips against Arthur's, his hands finding their way into Arthur's hair. And in that moment, he could believe Arthur completely. He could believe that everything would be fine when he told Arthur the truth, when he came clean. And he knew they would need to talk, but he also knew now was the time for passion and love, not confessions.

"I love you too," he breathed against Arthur's mouth, and Arthur smiled widely.

~Fin~