A thick silence holds over the group, all eyes trailed on either Merlin, who is pacing by the windows, or Arthur, who is slouched lifelessly in his chair, staring out toward nothing. Leon and three knights in training had already joined them, they now only awaited the queen's arrival.

"Merlin," Leon starts hesitantly, his voice hoarse with disuse, "where have you been these last few weeks?"

"Bottom of a lake."

"What?"

Arthur stiffens in his seat, turning just barely toward Merlin, shock evident on his face.

"Well, see," Merlin shifts from one foot to the other, gaze still trailed toward the distant gray horizon, "I-"

"-Arthur?!" the shattering of glass breaks the stillness.

All heads turn to Gwen, frozen for a moment in the threshold. She covers her mouth to hide the sob that escapes as she rushes across the room, disregarding the inkwell that lay shattered at her feet. Arthur is enveloped in her arms, only his shaking shoulders visible over the waves of fabric and bountiful hair that pool around her. Leon looks away, and the knights follow, feeling as though they are invading a deeply private moment.

Merlin looks on for a moment longer, relief breaking in a wave over his chest, he knows that this is not forgiveness, but it is a start, and he's glad, for Arthur's sake. He allows his gaze to again drift out toward the lower town, prying for any sign of a disturbance through the mist and the waves in the window panes.

He can hear the murmurs passing between the king and queen, a sound that, though broken still, sounds like healing. Merlin passes a hand over the scar on his stomach, feeling the soreness that still lingers along it's raised edge. It was worth it, he tells himself again, the weariness of his soul abated for a moment, it was worth all of this. He closes his eyes for a brief moment of peace, the calm before the inevitable storm. 

He knows that it is unlikely that he will get out of this alive, especially with the plan he had only come up with within the last hour. It was risky, it was foolish, and so likely to kill him, that it might just work. It had to work.

Guinevere clears her throat, taking her place next to the king, whose head was again held high. Merlin turns, his smile unfading as he accepts that, whatever it takes, as hard as it may be, he'll do it. For them. 

"The council of the round table is now in session. Merlin, please." Arthur gestures toward the seat on his right.  Merlin nods and takes his seat, not daring to spare a glance at Gwen, fearing what he might see in her gaze. Surely Arthur has told them all what he is by now. He's surprised no one has tried to put him in the dungeons yet.

"Guinevere, Leon, could you give us an idea of what we're up against?"

"Yes, Leon?" Guinevere nods across the table to Leon.

"Of course m'lady." Leon pulls a large scroll out from behind his chair, unrolling it to show a map of Camelot and the surrounding territories, "An army of Cenred's men have begun marching toward the capital from the south. According to scouts, its at least three fourths of his full forces. Gwaine has already marched out with everyone he could gather, but that leaves us almost defenseless. The problem is, we are expecting an attack from the north or east. With most of our forces centered on the southern attack, it is uncertain whether we will be able to defend ourselves when the second attack arrives."

"It will be fine, Leon." Merlin says quietly, his eyes remaining fixed on the table, "I can take care of the secondary attack, just make sure the people are safe."

"Merlin, are you okay? I mean, no offense but... you're not exactly, well-" Leon trails.

Merlin turns sharply to Arthur, surprise settling firmly in his features, "Arthur, you didn't... you didn't tell them?"

"I..." Arthur tries to explain, but the words stick in his throat.

"Merlin has magic." Gwen states calmly, "He's very powerful, born with the gift."

Leon and the three younger knights stare, one of the boys' jaw hanging open.

"Good, now that that's out of the way, we should begin pre-" Merlin is cut off by Leon, who has drawn his sword.

"And you return now with vengeance, devil?" Merlin only looks on as the blade fills the gap spanning over the table, the tip coming to rest at his throat, "You've come back from the grave to enact your revenge on us? On the king? hiding yourself away for all these years, pretending to be our friend?! Our brother?!"

"Leon," Merlin starts tiredly, using a single finger to guide the sword away from his face, "If I wanted the king dead I could have just not returned, he had it covered."

"How dare you?!" Leon's blade shakes with his rage, "Your friend nearly died and all you can do is jest? The Merlin I knew had a wit, but he would never be so tasteless as to poke fun at the death of the king."

"Leon, do not speak of that which you know nothing!" Merlin roars, rising out of his chair from a mix of desperation, anger, and frustration, "Your king left me for dead! He only wept because he couldn't be the one to end me himself, now get. Your sword. Away. From. Me."

"No-"

"Leon!" Merlin shouts, Leon's blade flying from his grip and pining itself into the wall. Merlin's eyes seem to be emitting a flame, no trace of himself left in his features, "Do not be so foolish as to believe you know what I am capable of."

Leon shrinks back in fear, the unnatural light now fading from Merlin's eyes.

"You have no idea what I have done to protect you, your precious king, and this entire kingdom." He gets quieter now, sinking hollowly back into his chair, "You know nothing of my sacrifices, do not mock me."

"Merlin," Arthur says softly, unable to look his friend in the eye, "What is your plan?"