Author's Note: I wrote this for glenien over at merry_merthur on LJ in a bit of a pinch and was unfortunately unable to cover all that she wanted. I have a little more of it written already and could easily turn this into a WIP, look at that ending, left wide open! Also, the title isn't as creative as I would have liked, but what can you do... Anyway, this is my first Merlin and my first fic in years, so I'm a bit out of the swing of things and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Should I turn this into a WIP? Should I write one of my many other Merlin plotbunnies?

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of its characters.

A sharp stab of familiar pain sank deep into Merlin's core and bled through his mind, filling up his veins and his entire being with a sudden, bright sense of awareness. He could feel his magic swathing him, smothering him, it was so thick, like a part of the air around him. He took a deep, gasping breath, opened his eyes wide, and began to slowly take in his surroundings; there was Arthur lying on his back beside him. It never ceased to amaze Merlin how he could look as if he had been trained for sleep just as he had been trained for battle. The other man looked fast asleep, but Merlin knew from experience that even the slightest sound of alarm could have Arthur awake and raring for a fight.

The ringing became more strident, and Merlin lifted one hand to his head while using the other to assist him in keeping his balance. He knew what must be coming, what always came in that moment when everything in his mind felt so full and two people instead of one occupied it.

Emrys.

He was instantly on his feet, hand itching to grab a sword. He needed to wake Arthur before it was too late and they were all run through without a chance of ever waking.

Emrys, Mordred's voice rang out through the clearing. I do not have a quarrel with the Prince or his men. It is you who has made your position clear. You will stand with a King who will see your kind killed, while you have the power at your disposal to end everything. You persecute those like you for no reason other than their stance against your Prince. A Prince , who, I might remind you, has no idea of the power that you encompass. Do you truly believe that he will stand by your side once the truth comes to light? He would rather see you burn. He would have allowed his own sister to if she had not found her own escape.

With a hand still clutching his head, Merlin looked around the wooded area once more. Arthur was still fast asleep, as were both Percival and Lancelot.

You have nothing to fear, Emrys. I will not harm your friends, as you call them. I come only with a message from Morgana.

"I don't believe you!" Merlin cried softly, his voice coming out in a low hiss. He looked around to assure that he had not awakened Arthur or any of the other men. You say you have nothing against Arthur or his knights, but you have killed knights of Camelot before .I saw you do it, or have you forgotten?

I see that I was wrong now. They were only doing what they believed was right, not killing to kill. They believed Morgana to be in mortal danger. If she were, I am certain I would do the same.

I don't believe you, Merlin repeated, this time in his mind. I don't trust you Mordred, and I know that you don't trust me. What is your message? You must know that I won't believe anything that you have to say to me.

There was a pause that lasted several moments and caused Merlin to believe that Mordred had left before his voice came through once more. You may choose not to believe me, Emrys, but I must pass along the message just the same. The Crystal of Neahtid was not the only one of its kind. I have seen what you can and will do and they are great things, Emrys. Morgana has also seen that you will soon come to your senses and lead our kind to a great victory.

You told Morgana about my magic?

I did not have to. She wanted me to assure you that she still understands why you did what you did and that she wishes you no ill will. When you change your mind, you will have a place with us, remember that.

Merlin looked around, still seeing no one but those who slept around him, and shook his head. "You're wrong," he said. "I will never go to you or Morgana. My place is here."

Believe what you will, Emrys, but you will never belong among these men. Your power exceeds what they could ever dream of achieving with their weapons and fires. There will be a time when you will grow tired of hiding your true nature and that will be when you will look for us. Goodbye, Emrys. And good luck. Bebeode þe arisan ealdu.

The ringing stopped and Merlin removed his hand from his face just in time to see something large and dark emerge from behind the trees. He did not recognize it, but it looked as if it were one of the trees of the forest come to life, with several limbs coming out of its body.

"Arthur, wait! It's a trap!"

Merlin whipped his head around when he heard Morgana's voice call out. He was still the only one awake and one else is around. The feelings and sensations were familiar, but there was no crystal to be seen. The beast moved closer, snapping a few branches as it did so, and Merlin could clearly see it now, but not see it as a whole. It was definitely not a tree; however, he could easily see that much now. There was the head of the snake, it was the first thing he noticed, bobbing and weaving as if threading a loom with a tale worthy of the bards. Her tongue flicked in and out as she whispered her secrets to anyone who would listen before she jerked back, mouth snapping shut as another head brushed her aside, demanding attention and respect. This was a lion, and it stared intently at Merlin, as if sizing him up. It was a look he had grown used to living in Camelot. He had gotten it on many occasions from Arthur, Uther, and even many of the knights. It was a look that belonged to royalty. His eyes reflected in the dark coal ones of the majestic, yet deadly animal as he did the same. It seemed dangerous and ready to strike at any moment.

He should wake Arthur. Or Lancelot, even, he would know what to do.

"It's Merlin! He has magic." It was the same voice. Morgana.

He had grown desperate now. He could not see it anywhere, could not see anything, he only could only hear. If only he could see where the voices were coming from, was Morgana there ready to strike? Or was there another crystal here? That seemed to be what Mordred had been suggesting.

A shrill bleating drew his attention to a third head, this one the head of a goat. When he turned to the goat, he could see what he couldn't see before: pain, death, and a heartrending sense of loss…it was all there reflected in the eyes of the goat. Its horns shone in the light of the moon, and the images imprinted in his mind taking him to another place. There was still no crystal to be seen, but the images were not confined to one single place, instead they were all around him. Was he living them? It was not him seeing it as he had in the cave or with the Crystal of Neahtid. And there was certainly no Taliesin there to refuse him the option of looking away and going back to Arthur, yet he still could not. It drew him in and held him tight and unyielding. It felt as if he had been transported to a time and place that had no constraints. It could have been happening in that exact moment or months or even years in the future. Or, better yet, it could even possibly not be happening at all. It could all be something of his own creation.

He prayed that were the case and that it was all a horrible dream, because Arthur was there, no sign of his recent sleep to be seen, writhing on the ground in pain with both hands about his neck. Morgana was speaking again, incanting, but Merlin could not make out a word of it and did not care to. He found himself, yet again, unable to look away from the now unmoving Arthur whose hands were still about his throat while he took in shallow, rasping breaths.

"Aren't you going to save him, Merlin? We know you could."

There was a blinding flash of pain, and Merlin fell to the ground in front of the beast on his hands and knees. He could hear the soft, sibilant tones of the snake and the low rumbles of the lion come together as one. There was the sound of padding footsteps, but he found himself unable to move away as another vision overcame him.

"Poor Prince Arthur, all alone and ready to die…so ready to save his servant, but who will save him?" Mordred smiled and pulled back his hood, the moon reflecting off of his dark hair. "Thank you for bringing him to me, Emrys. I would not have found him so easily otherwise."

More flashes began to flow rapidly in and out, flooding Merlin's mind with various images and possibilities as he felt himself grow steadily warmer. There was a combination of warm blood and cold steel, and cold blood and still waters. They mixed and repeated themselves over and over in Merlin's mind, causing him to bite his tongue until he tasted the copper taste of his own blood. Colours swam behind his eyes, purples mixing with blues and reds and gold until they were all he could see. He pushed himself up from his place on the ground and walked forward, but could not remember taking the first step and knew that his eyes must be flaring with anger, and fear, and magic. His arm outstretched before him of its own accord as he wracked his brain for spells that might detain the beast until Arthur woke. He heard the animals cry out in unison; hissing, snarling, and bellowing their dismay and felt the sharp, biting air penetrate his shoulder followed by the warm, wet heat of fresh blood. The colours from before all became one until there was a great flash of white that inundated his line of sight before it slowly faded to a much more welcoming black.

Arthur's face haunted him, even in the peaceful dark pools. No sounds could be heard and no visions to be seen, but Merlin could still remember the look on his face as he lie on the ground, awaiting death by the hand of the woman who had grown up with him, like a sister, and had been revealed to in fact be just that, just a year prior. There was only one thing that plagued Merlin more than that single look, and it was the betrayal that had resided in his eyes as he looked at Merlin.

Slowly, his vision returned and once it had cleared completely, he looked around in shock. He could not be responsible for Arthur's death. He would never take him to Mordred, it could not be true.

His head still ached, but not the head-splitting ache from before-he could see what was in front of his face, and what was there stunned him. The beast that had stood strong and unyielding just moments before was now lying on the ground dead. There was not a mark on it, not a trace of blood that he could see. Merlin glanced back at Arthur who was sleeping peacefully and instantly heard Mordred's words in his head. He would not lead Arthur to his death. He refused. Merlin had made a mistake before in helping Mordred escape Camelot, but he would never again be his aid in the murder that Kilgharrah had said had been foretold. The pain in his shoulder demanded attention, but he ignored it, and held his arm tight against his chest as he turned away from the scene.