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"You're not going back then."
His tone was resigned. It was a statement, not a question. It wasn't as if he had actually expected Merlin to go back to the castle. Merlin seemed to think the world -or maybe just Arthur- would meet some sort of cataclysmic end if he didn't follow Arthur into every potentially dangerous situation.
So. Merlin was coming with him. Merlin would know what he did.
Part of him wished that for once in his life Merlin would do as he was told and just leave him be. It was the same part that valued Merlin's opinion of him, that wanted to believe Merlin when he talked about Arthur's destiny as the greatest king Camelot has ever known.
But the rest of him was just tired. This had weighed on his soul for a long time, had haunted his dreams for years. He needed someone else to know what had happened here. What he had done here.
Merlin had seen him at his absolute best and absolute worst. Merlin had seen him be petty and jealous and irrational. Merlin had seen him frightened, proud, ashamed and in love. Merlin had seen him too drunk to walk and too injured to stand. Merlin watched him grieve for his father, watched him struggle with being king.
Merlin knew him better than anyone ever has. Better than his knights, his father, even Gwen. He had confided in Merlin his doubts and fears, shared his triumphs.
Merlin was his only friend.
This was just one more thing Merlin will know.
He made himself look Merlin in the eye when he confessed who truly led the raid. The flash of hurt and betrayal and how-could-you on his face cut Arthur to the bone.
Then Elyan -the spirit- was there and the whole story just spilled out of him. Finally, he confessed what he did. And when it was over, when he was still alive and Elyan was okay, Merlin was still there, by his side as he always was. As Arthur was starting to believe he always would be.