Fore A/N: Not BBC, Johnny Capps, Julian Murphy. I Am Complex belongs to Reannah Loera. Originally my readers in FanFiction.Net requested this chapter because Sides contain a lot of time jumps, so I figured I'll post it here too. Enjoy!

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Chapter 4.5

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Even the Court Physician, one of the two most knowledgeable people in the whole Camelot, couldn't possibly explain the mystery of Soulpoetries.

An inscription that represented one's very soul, etched on the part of their body that figuratively or quite literally referred to something that was closest to their heart. A trace of darkened skin that looked like dried blood but had no history of injury at all and no possible cause that could make such intricate writings. But most of all, an inscription that could complete another Soulpoetry.

Gaius subconsciously reached to touch the inside of his lower arm, on which, under his tunic, was inscribed 'my past' in a feminine penmanship, its ink already fading with age. He knew out there a certain woman was brewing a potion, probably inside a small house she said she'd always wanted, on which front porch she would build a small stall to sell her potions, her fingers worn with age and on the same exact place on her lower arm a 'does not define me' inscription was written in his own penmanship.

Changing the cloth on Arthur's feverish forehead and adjusted his sitting position, Gaius sighed.

The little young prince was sick today. The blonde, being a young nine years old boy, got involved in some childish immature games that ended with him eating things he shouldn't have eaten, and it fell to Gaius to patiently wait for the young prince's fever to break.

Arthur groaned in his sleep, his brow furrowed in pained as though the inside of his skull was pressing from within.

"It's alright, it's alright," Gaius shushed him gently, turning the cloth to the cold side to reduce his fever.

His eyes travelled to the Prince's right hand, where, under the four rings, was a messy writing that said 'of the same coin.'

Gaius knew it wasn't proper to see someone else's Soulpoetry, but being a Court Physician, some things were bound to be made into exceptions. He practically knew the Soulpoetries of each and every single court members that had ever come to his chamber.

He knew that the late Queen had a 'my innocence' scrabble on the back of her waist, on which she leaned weakly on, baby Arthur cradled in her arms, before she died. As he did know that her reigning husband had an inscription of 'is not ignorance' on the back of his hand, hidden from the world by his favorite pair of leather gloves. As he did know the King's ward had a 'masks a storm' on the back of her neck, hidden underneath her beautiful locks. As he did know the Soulpoetries of each and every Knights that had ever come to his chamber, chainmail tattered and torsos bloodied; each and every kitchen maid that had ever come for his help, face blue from hitting and lips pale from lack of sleep; each and every court members, with their nightmares and old battle wounds and fevers and cloudy sights.

Yet he never knew what made these things tick.

Gaius sighed and wiped the sweat that was forming on Arthur's forehead. He knew some things he must leave for Fate herself to manage.

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Gaius found out about Merlin's Soulpoetry on the night the warlock took a risk of drinking off the poisoned chalice from Nimueh. Arthur had already gone out the second Gaius told him how to find the antidote to the poison, and it was just him and Gwen. Merlin was already sweating through his shirt and Camelot ceremonial vest and they were trying to take the vest off to prevent the fever from wreaking havoc when Gaius saw it.

A beautiful, almost royal, inscription of 'two sides'.

Two sides– Merlin's magic.

Gwen wasn't looking, already climbing up to the warlock's bedroom to fetch some clean night shirt, and Gaius took this chance to seize the nearest salve and spread it across the brunet's sternum, hiding the inscription.

"Oh dear, is there a wound?" Gwen asked upon coming back, eyes widening in panic as her eyes fell on the salve that was spread right in the middle of the brunet's chest.

"Oh– no, no, it was for..." Gaius paused, thinking, and went with the first thing that crossed his head. "Breathing. The poison tried to constrict his throat, breathing this salve will help relieve it."

Two nights passed and Arthur came back the next morning. After quite an eventful day that nearly took the life out of him—of the time he had to patiently wait for Gwen to retrieve the morteaus flower from Arthur in the cellar, of having to perform magic for the very first time in twenty years, and of his heart missing a beat when Merlin failed to wake up directly after ingesting the potion—he sat across Merlin on the dining table that evening, eyeing the poor lanky boy stuffing too much bread in one bite.

Gaius' eyes fell to the warlock's blue shirt, laces tied and currently not revealing his Soulpoetry.

"Merlin?"

Merlin hummed a reply with bread still in his mouth. "Hmm?"

Gaius sighed. "I– I never intend to, but since it's happened, I'm thinking it's only fair that I should tell you."

Swallowing a mouthful of bread, the brunet looked up, his expression unguarded and childlike as he wondered what had happened that Gaius had to tell him about. "What happened?"

Gaius' gaze on the young warlock didn't waver.

"I saw your Soulpoetry."

Merlin looked up and widened his eyes, his pupil dilating in panic as his free hand slowly crept up to cover the exact spot where his Soulpoetry was. He froze like a cornered deer, ready to leap and run. For a moment, it truly hit Gaius how young and vulnerable Merlin was for a great warlock he was destined to.

So Gaius added, with a determined gaze, "I will guard the secret with my life."

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The first moment Gaius took the scene in—Merlin carried in bridal style by Arthur into his chamber, his shirt crimson with dry blood—his heart nearly failed.

"What happened?" he asked, signaling for Arthur to put the lanky boy over the cot.

"He got pierced by an arrow," the Prince explained, sounding desperate himself. "I think it's poisoned."

Telling Arthur to put Merlin on his stomach, Gaius proceeded to peel off the flap of Merlin's ripped shirt, revealing a blood-soaked cloth wrapped around his shoulder that Gaius knew came from the fine material of the knight's cape.

"Who dressed his wound?"

Arthur gave the answer Gaius feared. "I did."

Something tugged on a string on Gaius' heart. Arthur wasn't an idiot– he saw Merlin's Soulpoetry, and Gaius knew he understood what he saw.

For two whole days, Gaius never dared to leave Merlin's side for more than the hours it took to attend to the King. When he needed to help the King, he only trusted Gwen to look after the young warlock, but then he still insisted that she should call for him immediately should anything happen.

Merlin woke up on the third day.

When Arthur showed up on the doorstep that morning, like he always had for two previous mornings, he wasn't dressed in his royal garment with guards standing behind him, ready to take Merlin out for execution like Gaius had feared. Instead, he was wearing the shirt from last night, his hair sticking up on one side as though he had fallen asleep on the table, and a wide grin etched on his face that made his face looked like it shone.

There were tears on his eyes. "You're alive!"

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Something burned on the inside of his lower arm when he gathered Alice in his arms. Later that night, Gaius realized his Soulpoetry had bloomed back to how it looked like on the night they vowed, twenty years ago– jet black with a hint of blue, its edges clear and unblurred.

My past.

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Gaius gasped as he took in the true extent of what truly had possessed Arthur.

The Prince's chamber was in complete disarray. The floor was strewn with precious jewels and scrolls, several cabinets and one of the poles of the Prince's four poster bed were destroyed into splinters, and the boar head was lying with its tusks impaling the floor. On the far side of the wall, Gaius saw Merlin, looking utterly drained from magic as he held an unconscious Arthur on his lap.

Shaking the fearful thoughts away—of Merlin having to use magic to fight Arthur, and of the fear of Arthur finding out about Merlin's magic—Gaius quickly approached the weak warlock and helped him hoist Arthur up.

They laid Arthur on the cot in Gaius' chamber and Merlin fell asleep on the chair by his side that night.

Gaius was about to usher the brunet back to his room upstairs to get some proper rest when he realized Merlin had fallen asleep on the chair next to the cot where Arthur was lying. The warlock laid his head on a small space next to Arthur's thigh, his right hand folded under his forehead as a pillow and his left hand resting on the small space next to it, mere inches from the Prince's own hand.

Gaius was about to avert his eyes, feeling like he was intruding a private moment, when he realized the four rings on Arthur's fingers were missing.

Then everything slid into place.

Merlin, pale and shivering in Arthur's arms, carried in bridal style into Gaius' chamber, his wound already bandaged by Arthur who had unmistakingly seen his Soulpoetry.

Arthur, unconscious under the enchantment that was taking hold of him, stripped off of his rings by Merlin who thought the enchantment came from his four rings.

Two sides of the same coin.

Smiling to himself, Gaius then let out a soft chuckle. Of course Merlin and Arthur were soulmates– how could he be so blind? He considered leaving the two youths to themselves when he decided that they needed to discover and understand their own destinies on their own time. Not after being possessed or being forced to display his their magic in front of the other, not because one of them had magic and the other was a Crown Prince, but because their souls hinged perfectly in all their flaws and scars. Because they loved each other.

And so Gaius walked over to his cabinet and opened one of the drawers where Arthur had asked him to keep several of his spare rings. He took four of them and put them on the blonde's fingers before leaving them to rest, silently praying that it wouldn't take them too long to realize that they were destined to be by each other's side

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Arthur woke up the next day.

Gaius and Merlin were looking at him with relieved yet panicked eyes, fearful that Arthur remembered witnessing Merlin's magic.

Arthur proceeded to ask about what had happened, and although it was true that Merlin could sometimes come up with the most ridiculous explanation to lie his way from revealing his magic, Gaius let out a relieved sigh when Arthur called the warlock in front of him an idiot.

Merlin merely laughed, his eyes glassy from happy tears.

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A/N: Alright, that concludes the end of the fifth chapter! What do you guys think? Hahahaha, Arthur doesn't remember because, yeah, I figured it would be too early that way. Once again, sorry for the time jumps! I'm starting to think it's part of my writing style, because most of my writings indeed involves time gaps ahahahahahh, please bear with me!

Gaius, Alice, Uther, Ygraine, and Morgana's Soulpoetries are all from Reannah Loera's poem that won 2015 Rossford Record's YA Poetry contest, "I Am Complex". You may have seen it being made into photosets in tumblr with captions "my past doesn't define me, my strength is an illusion, my calm masks a storm, my innocence is not ignorance." I personally love this poem– I can never make things as beautiful as this in my seventh grade, but Reannah, a seventh grader at the time, if I'm not mistaken, can! (I originally wanted to use Beowulf's lines but it's all about war and bloodbath battles and I couldn't think of anything ahahahahah XD)