Takes place between Season 4 and 5. Merlin is 24, Arthur 25 – remember there was a three year gap between those two seasons!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except this particular fusion idea

Should update every week!

* Edwendu = [to] reverse

**Edhwierft cýþþ = [to] return home

Mad World

"We're trapped, Arthur," Merlin huffed.

Arthur surveyed the area, scanning for an escape, but Merlin was right; that damned sorcerer had herded them, like they were the rabbits and he was the hunting dog, into a stone maze. A stone maze that hadn't been there before. Surely, this was just another one of the sorcerer's conjuring tricks.

"Dammit!" Arthur cursed. He glanced at the man being half carried in his arms and cursed again. "What the hell were you thinking?" Arthur demanded.

"I was," Merlin took a deep breath, his pale face turning a slight shade of green. "I was thinking I was saving your princely ass, you prat."

Arthur adjusted his grip on Merlin, who gasped from the jarring pain. "Well, don't next time," he gritted.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your highness," Merlin bit out. "Next time, I'll just let the poisoned arrow hit your fat head!"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Across from them, standing in one of the many crossroads of the accursed stone maze, stood the sorcerer. He was a short fellow with stringy brown hair and the most infuriating little smirk on his face.

This was the bugger that had completely ruined Arthur's morning. Granted, it had already been bad enough, which was why he had dragged Merlin out to the woods for an impromptu hunting trip, but it was this man, this sorcerer, who turned Arthur's simple bad morning into a horrendously ruined day.

Merlin had been leaning against a tree, being more silent than he'd ever been in all the years Arthur's known him, while Arthur himself had poised his bow, ready to let the arrow fly into the unsuspecting deer. Already, he had caught three rabbits, four squirrels, and a fox. His bad morning had turned into a fading nightmare, one he could hardly remember. It was easy for Arthur to relax when he was surrounded by nature and sunlight and Merlin. (Though if anyone ever found out about that, especially Merlin, they'd immediately be thrown in the dungeons and forgotten.) It had been so perfect, so quiet…

Then Merlin had been shouting and pushing Arthur into the dirt. Before Arthur could yell at his idiot manservant, he'd seen the arrow protruding out of Merlin's side, just under where his lungs would be located. When another arrow landed, inches away from Arthur's foot, the prince had sprung into action. The horses had been startled off as more and more arrows began raining down, each one missing their intended targets by inches, so Arthur had slung Merlin's arm around his neck, wrapped his own arm around Merlin's waist, careful of the arrow, and took off running.

Which only made them end up here, trapped between three stone walls with a sorcerer blocking the only entrance, even quicker.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting," the sorcerer repeated, that damned grin still on his face. "I have a schedule to keep."

"And what would that be?" Arthur asked flippantly. "Take over Camelot? Kill the king?" It was Arthur's turn to smirk. "It's been attempted. Many, many times. Each sorcerer has failed, and you are no different."

The sorcerer tutted. "Ah, how you doubt me. Do you know me, boy?"

Arthur bristled. Boy? He was no boy. Arthur was the Crown Prince of Camelot, not some mere boy.

"Do you know me, boy?" he spat out. Raising his sword, Arthur said, "You are like all the others, a sorcerer with an ego problem. You will never bring Camelot down, and each time you pathetic creatures attack us, we just grow stronger."

The sorcerer clenched his fists. "I am Lolloc," he informed, his voice tight with anger. "And I will be the one sorcerer to succeed."

"What makes you think that," Merlin called out weakly.

When Arthur glanced at him, he took in the sweat dotting Merlin's brow and the glaze of his eyes. If Arthur checked, he wouldn't be surprised to discover a fever warming Merlin's forehead.

Lolloc laughed. It was a cocky, victory cheer that made Arthur's blood run cold. It turned to ice when Lolloc pulled out a vile and drowned its contents.

"What do you think?" Lolloc asked minutes later in a voice that was not his own. "Do you think I can pull off my brilliant plan now?"

Standing in front of Arthur and Merlin was…Arthur.

"H-How is that possible?" Arthur, the real Arthur, demanded.

Lolloc laughed again. "Do I really have to answer that?" he asked in amusement. After a pregnant pause, he said, "Magic."

"Bloody hell," Arthur muttered. He shut his eyes, needing to clear the overwhelming feeling of exasperation from his mind.

"And now I just need to get rid of you two," Lolloc said gleefully. He clapped his hands together, which looked utterly ridiculous since he had Arthur's image.

"Many have tried to kill us," Merlin warned. He was breathing heavily now, and small tremors rattled his frame. "They've all failed."

Waving his, which currently looked like Arthur's, hand dismissively, Lolloc rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know that. Which is why I'm not going to kill you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Then what would be stopping us from going to Camelot and revealing you for the imposter you are?"

Lolloc grinned. "Because you won't be here."

"But," Merlin looked confused. "You said you won't kill us."

Merlin involuntarily took in a quiet, sharp gasp when Lolloc's Arthur-eyes locked onto his.

"Oh, Emrys." Lolloc's Arthur-voice hit Merlin's ears like a hissed whispered would – caressing and soft, but with rough patches that left flesh torn and bloody. "You'll be going home. It's a bit difficult to come to Camelot's aid if you're home."

Arthur felt Merlin stiffen. Glancing down, Arthur saw Merlin's glazed eyes filled with terror.

"Merlin's home is Ealdor," Arthur said hesitantly. "And it's only a few days from Camelot." He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It had something to do with Lolloc calling Merlin "Emrys," Arthur figured as much…but that could be discussed later.

The look Lolloc gave Arthur, using his own damned face, was pity. It was pity. Now, Arthur was infuriated as well as perplexed.

"Look out!" Merlin shouted, somehow managing to push Arthur away, just as a beam of magic was thrown at them. When Merlin fell to the ground, he cried out in agony.

"Merlin!" Arthur turned to Lolloc, fire in his eyes. "You'll pay for that," he promised gravely, getting to his feet. He was only a few meters away from the sorcerer now.

Lolloc gulped, stumbling backwards. "Y-You know, maybe I will kill you instead," he said nervously.

Arthur fumed. Not only has Lolloc ruined his day and injured Merlin, but he'd taken Arthur's face and allowed a look of fear to cross the prince's features. That was completely unacceptable. With a yell, Arthur charged Lolloc, his sword gripped firmly in front of him.

Which, in hindsight, Arthur realized was a fool plan, considering Lolloc was a, well, sorcerer and all.

Quickly, Lolloc raised his palm and whispered a word too low and frantic to be understood. Red light bubbled in Lolloc's palm, and Arthur had just enough time to think, 'Oh shite!' when the unthinkable happened.

Merlin's shout of "NO!"was barely heard by Arthur's ears – he was too busy trying to discern if his eyes had seen the right thing. The magic, the red, bubbling light that had been shooting towards Arthur, was violently thrown against one of the stone walls. The wall quavered and the top portion of it cracked off. (Thankfully, it fell backwards, away from the too-stunned-to-move Crown Prince.)

Slowly, both Arthurs, the real one and the imposter, turned towards the only other person in the maze. Merlin was on the ground, putting his weight on an elbow; he clutched his wound with one hand as blood seeped through his fingers while the other hand… The other hand was stretched out, fingers splayed. Swirling, golden light dissolved back into dulled, blue eyes.

Arthur dropped his sword.

As if the golden light had given him energy, once Merlin's eyes returned to their normal, albeit more glazed, blue, he collapsed into the ground with a sharp cry. After several second of deep breathing, Merlin opened his eyes and looked up to Arthur. He swallowed, fear evident in his entire being. Tension polluted the atmosphere. It was so thick that the only thing that could cut it would be –

"Oh."

Arthur and Merlin's heads whipped to Lolloc.

"My."

Arthur and Merlin squinted in identical expressions of confused exasperation.

"Gods! This is it!" Lolloc squealed, clapping his (Arthur's) hands. "Emrys is revealing himself! And I'm witnessing it! Oh, this is the best day of my life!"

"What," Arthur gritted, "In the hell. Are you going off about?" Without waiting for an answer from Lolloc, Arthur turned to Merlin. "What in the hell is he going off about?!"

"A-Arthur, please. I ca-an explain!" Merlin implored.

"No time!" Lolloc singsonged. (Arthur promised himself he would never say anything in such a way ever again.) "Edwendu!"

Suddenly, Arthur was standing where he had been only a few minutes prior. Merlin was even back in his arms. Except now, Merlin was much heavy than before – the majority of his weight was leaning against Arthur.

"Goodbye, princeling! Goodbye, Emrys!" Lolloc called, waving is hand up and down, which only made Arthur look even more ridiculous. "Edhwierft cýþþ!"

This time, the light that emerged from Lolloc's (Arthur's) palms was green, the color of fresh grass, and nothing stopped the light from hitting its targets.