A/N: I'm sorry, it took so long for this, but my life has been insane with school and college applications (shout out to fellow seniors in the same boat). I swear, give me another two weeks or so and I will have so much more free time to work on this. Chapter three is already halfway done, so it shouldn't be too long. In the meantime, enjoy.


CHAPTER TWO

This must be a dream.

That was why he didn't remember how he ended up in the forest. That was why he thought he saw Merlin doing magic. That was why everybody was ignoring him. That was why he was now staring down at a body that looked exactly like his. Because none of that could actually happen. None of it was real. It couldn't be. It was all in his head.

So why couldn't he make himself wake up?

He pinched himself, he hit himself, he concentrated extremely hard, he tried everything he could think of. And though none of it hurt as much as he thought it normally should have, he was still standing in the exact same place. Uther and Morgana were by the fire, talking quietly to each other now and then, and Arthur just stood where he was, trying to figure out why this was happening. Whenever he realized he was dreaming, he always, always woke up immediately after. This time, he was stuck in the nightmare, unable to escape.

He realized that it must not be a dream after all. Somehow, everything was real. Including the other Arthur.

He stared down at his own face, feeling the wrongness in his gut. Who was this person? It definitely looked like him, but he was currently standing next to his bed, not lying in it. It must be some kind of imposter.

It had to be magic. There was no way someone could make themselves look that similar to the prince without using a spell. Was Merlin involved? He was apparently the one who had brought the fake Arthur back, after all. Had Merlin put a spell on Arthur as well so that he was invisible? That would explain why everybody ignored him; they didn't know he was there. But why would he do so? What was the point of all of this? If he was planning on replacing the prince with an imposter, why not just kill the real one? It didn't make sense…

Unless he was planning something bigger.

Arthur thought quickly. He had to find out what Merlin was up to, and if he was behind all of this. But if he was right, then Merlin was dangerous. He had to make sure that he would be safe before he went in search of the sorcerer.

He walked back over to the fireplace and stood directly in front of Uther and Morgana, who were both silently staring into the fire.

"FATHER!" He bellowed suddenly, "MORGANA!"

Neither one moved. Even though he had expected as much, he felt his hopes fall just a bit.

With one last look at the fake Arthur, he turned and left the room at a swift pace.


Uther had said that Gaius was looking for a cure, which meant that Merlin was probably with him. He had no clue whether Gaius knew that Merlin was a sorcerer or not, much less if he was in on any evil plans the servant had. He doubted it, but considering he would never have believed Merlin could be capable of such evil until today, he realized that he could no longer rely on what he thought he knew of anyone.

He strode down the familiar route to the physician's chambers, finding it strange to see people pass right by him without realizing he was there. It had occurred to him that since Merlin was a sorcerer, he might be able to see through the invisibility spell, especially if he was the one who had cast it in the first place. Arthur realized that he would have to be very careful until he knew for sure how much of a threat Merlin posed.

When he reached Gaius' chambers, he found the door partway open, but he remained outside and peered in silently. He could see Merlin sitting at the table with his head in his hands and his back facing Arthur. There was a bandage wrapped around his leg and he had a book open in front of him. Arthur wasn't expecting him to be laughing with glee or smirking evilly or doing anything ridiculous like that, but he was definitely surprised to see Merlin looking so dejected. And why was there a bandage on his leg if he could heal it with magic? Was it just for show?

Gaius suddenly walked into view, holding another book. He bent over to show Merlin one of the pages.

"What about this one?"

Merlin lifted his head to look, but put it down again a second later.

"No."

Gaius sighed. "We'll find it eventually, Merlin. It has to be in one of these books."

"This is my fault," Merlin said, his voice slightly muffled.

"Merlin—"

"It's like the questing beast all over again. Only this time there's nothing I can do."

This time? Arthur was confused. Arthur remembered the questing beast incident—he had been unconscious for days before Gaius found a remedy that saved him. But what had Merlin done? Had he used magic somehow?

"Merlin," Gaius said in a stern voice. "Look at me."

After a pause, Merlin lifted his head again and looked up at Gaius. The miserable look on his face surprised Arthur. He could only recall a handful of times when Merlin had ever looked so upset.

"This is not your fault," Gaius said firmly. "You did all you could. You're not infallible, you know. You can't protect him from everything."

Merlin was protecting him?

"And anyway, he's not dying yet—"

"That we know of," Merlin muttered.

"He's not dying," Gaius repeated, "and we don't want a repeat of the questing beast. So there's no need to run off and do something foolish like last time."

Merlin looked incredulous. "Foolish? I was trying to save his life! You think I was being foolish?"

"I do. You should never be so quick to throw your own life away, even if it's to save a friend. Especially when you know it's risky."

"But it worked!"

"It worked in the end," Gaius corrected. "But you knew it was dangerous to trade your life for his, and you did it anyway. And we all know how that turned out."

Merlin's face turned sheepish. Arthur's mind was spinning. Merlin had tried to save his life… by sacrificing himself? What?

"Uther wants a report within the hour," Gaius said. "So keep looking through those books."

Merlin hunched back over his book, and Arthur stared at him through the crack. Merlin was a sorcerer. He was supposed to be planning evil schemes and trying to kill Arthur.

Apparently, he was willing to die to keep the prince alive.

Arthur tried to tell himself it might still be part of a bigger plan to ruin Camelot, but he knew it wasn't true. Even if it's to save a friend, Gaius had said. Merlin considered him a friend, not an enemy or a target. A friend. And everything about Merlin's actions, even his demeanor, reinforced that fact.

He had attempted to trade his own life for Arthur's. He had screamed in terror when he saw Arthur collapse in the swamps. He had carried Arthur all the way back to Camelot on a twisted ankle just to get him to Gaius, when he could have gone for help on his own and returned for the prince later.

And now that he thought Arthur was lying in bed unconscious, he was feeling guilty and worried. Because he was supposed to be protecting Arthur.

Arthur suddenly recalled vague instances in the past when Merlin had made a comment about protecting him. He had always laughed it off, even though it sometimes seemed like Merlin didn't think it was a joke. He had been completely serious all along. Deadly serious. And Arthur had never known.

Arthur didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Here he was, faced with one of the most loyal, dedicated, selfless friends he had ever had. And that friend was a sorcerer.

Why, Merlin? He thought to himself. Why would you learn magic? Surely he knew how evil it was, how it corrupted people and turned them cruel and power hungry. How it made them do things that they wouldn't have done before, things they should regret. How it was a power that could never be harnessed, that only brought harm on the people around it. Why would Merlin, the most innocent, peace-loving person he had ever met, choose to embrace such a power?

Maybe Merlin really was an idiot. Maybe he encountered it somewhere and thought he could control it, use it for his own purposes. Whatever Merlin had done to save Arthur's life after the questing beast, it sounded like it involved magic; maybe he wanted to use it to protect Arthur. After all, how else would he protect the prince? He was no warrior, and there wasn't much else he could do against danger otherwise. So he must be using magic to protect Arthur.

Stupid, naive Merlin. He must have believed that he could control the power enough to stop it from corrupting him. In fact, Arthur wondered how he had gone this long without turning evil. Perhaps Merlin was just such an innocent, caring person that it was having a hard time corrupting him. But Arthur knew that it was only a matter of time, and it would happen eventually. It always did.

He decided not to turn Merlin in. He wouldn't allow the man to be burned at the stake just for being so dedicated. But he couldn't allow it to continue. He had to intervene, and save Merlin from his own fallacy. He would put a stop to the magic.

Of course, he had to find a way out of the current predicament first. In fact, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Merlin was a sorcerer. There was definitely something magical going on here, and it would be helpful to have a sorcerer on his side, at least until they found a way to fix it. Not to mention he needed to find a way to stop being invisible.

With that in mind, he pushed the door open. Or, at least, he tried to, but it seemed to be stuck; the darn thing wouldn't budge, so he gave up and slipped through the narrow opening.

Maybe Merlin, being a sorcerer, would be able to see past the enchantment. He knew that probably wasn't how these things worked, but it was still possible. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking at Merlin still hunched over his book and Gaius standing a few feet away, sorting through a stack of more books. Gaius hadn't noticed him, not that Arthur had expected him to.

"Merlin."

He waited for something to happen, even a hint of recognition from the servant, but he continued to read his book. Arthur frowned.

"Merlin." He tried again, louder. Still nothing. "Answer me, damn it!" He felt a tiny bubble of hope blossom as Merlin lifted his head slightly, brow furrowed, but he looked at the window, not at Arthur. Then he put his head right back down again and resumed his reading. Arthur wondered for a moment, wondered if it could have been because he heard Arthur, but some part of him knew it was just wishful thinking. He felt his chest deflate as he lost what little hope he'd had. He hadn't realized until now how much he was relying on the theory that Merlin could hear him, because he was suddenly very much aware of how alone and helpless he was.

Arthur tried not to panic. His mind began scrambling for ideas, trying to think of something he could do. He had to get someone's attention. Should he try to write a note? Dear Father, he imagined, the man lying in my chambers is not your son. He's an imposter. I am the real Arthur, but I'm invisible and nobody can see or hear me. Yes, he could easily imagine how Uther (or anyone, for that matter) would react to seeing such a note. He would think it was some imbecile trying to trick him with a ridiculous story. He would never believe it, especially when the imposter looked so much like Arthur. Nobody would believe it. It sounded ridiculous, even to him. And even if someone did believe it, so what? There was nothing they could do to help him if they couldn't even see him.

He was useless. He couldn't do a single thing if he couldn't communicate with anybody. All he could do was watch in silence. It was like in the stories he was told as a small boy, when the oblivious knight would enter the lair of the monster, having no clue that he was walking into danger. Arthur remembered listening in suspense, wishing he could enter the story, warn the knight not to go, and prevent it from happening. But he was always just an observer, and he could only listen in dismay as the brave knight was stalked and hunted. Now, Arthur was feeling the same feeling, but it was for the people around him, the people he cared about. This time, it was real. And there was nothing he could do.

Merlin closed the book with a loud thump. "It's not in any of these," he said tiredly. "Have you found anything yet?"

Gaius sighed. "No, I'm afraid not. We will have to tell the king."

Merlin got up and followed Gaius out, the drag in his step apparent. Arthur watched in misery as they walked straight past him and out the door.


After realizing he had nothing better to do, Arthur followed them back to his chambers. Gaius and Uther stood near the bed, while Merlin stood nearby, staring at the floor. Arthur remained across the room from them all, feeling strangely disturbed by the sight of his own sleeping form.

"We haven't found anything yet, sire," Gaius said, "but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. It must be in my books somewhere—"

"And if it is not?" Uther hardly bothered to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Then we will find another solution," Gaius said patiently. "There is really nothing to worry about yet, sire. He is in no danger—"

"Gaius, he hasn't woken once!"

"We must give it time. He is otherwise completely healthy—no major wounds, no infection or sickness, no sign of any ill health…"

Arthur stopped listening as they went on. It was only depressing him.

This was a disaster. Everybody seemed to think that Arthur was currently lying in bed, unconscious. There was no reason for anyone to believe otherwise. Whoever had done this had made sure that Arthur was helpless, that he could do nothing but watch as their plans unfolded. But why? Why not just kill him? Unless…

Arthur had a horrible thought. Merlin had been there when he was knocked out, and then had brought him back to Camelot. Merlin believed the person to be the real Arthur. How could the two princes have been switched if Merlin was with him the whole time?

Maybe it wasn't an imposter. Maybe the person lying in bed was really him. Maybe…

Maybe he was a ghost.

Arthur looked down at himself. He held his hands up to his face and looked at them. They looked just as real, just as solid as ever. Weren't ghosts supposed to be transparent, or white, or something? He thought he recalled hearing that somewhere. He certainly didn't look or feel like one, although that didn't count for much since he had no clue what it was supposed to be like. And anyway, didn't you have to be dead to be a ghost? As Gaius kept pointing out, his body was completely alive and well.

Arthur thought some more, and recalled that ghosts could supposedly pass through objects. He couldn't do that, right? He walked over to his breakfast table and looked at one of the tall candles. Dreading the result, he reached his hand out to touch it. It was with extreme relief that he found his fingers did not pass through. He could feel his fingers touching the wax. He was starting to feel better, so he tried to pick up the candle.

Nothing happened.

He grabbed the candle firmly and pulled. It didn't move, though he could feel his hand gripping it. No matter how hard he tried, the candle remained where it was. What did this mean? Was he a ghost after all?

He stared at the candle. It sat there taunting him. He grabbed it and pulled with all his might, but it refused to move. He yanked with both hands. Nothing.

"DAMN IT!" He screamed, slamming his fists on the table, the frustration and panic bursting out of him. If the table felt the force of the hit, it didn't show it. There wasn't even a sound from his hands hitting the wood. The two voices behind him carried on their conversation, oblivious to his outburst. It was like he wasn't even there, like he didn't really exist, not in the same way that they did.

"Yes, sire, you have my word that Merlin and I will continue to search for a remedy. We are just as distressed as you."

"Thank you, Gaius. I am grateful to you. And to your ward as well—for carrying Arthur back—"

"..."

He began to wonder if maybe he really wasn't there, maybe he was dreaming after all, maybe this was just a crazy hallucination—

"Merlin..."

How long would he be stuck like this? Would it be forever? Was he doomed to stalk the halls as a silent observer for the rest of his life?

"Merlin."

Gaius sounded annoyed. Arthur turned, and almost had a heart attack.

Merlin was staring directly at him.

"Merlin!"

Merlin snapped out of it and turned to look at Gaius, who cleared his throat. He stared blankly at the old man until Gaius made a subtle motion of his head toward the king. Merlin looked at Uther, who was staring at him with a slight frown on his face. Merlin's ears turned pink and he hastily bowed, wisely choosing not to say anything.

The king seemed to think nothing more of it—perhaps he was too used to Arthur complaining that the servant was a bit wrong in the head—and he bid them both goodnight. Taking the cue, Gaius bowed and left the room quickly, practically dragging Merlin out with him.

Arthur ran after them.

He emerged into the corridor just in time to see Gaius hit Merlin on the head and mutter something to him before stalking off. Merlin, rubbing his head indignantly, began to follow him.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out, his heart still beating madly.

Merlin didn't stop, but he turned to look over his shoulder, his brows drawing together. Arthur watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Merlin's eyes searched the empty corridor.

His gaze passed right over the prince, and after a few seconds, Merlin turned and ran to catch up with Gaius.


A/N: Alright guys, you know the drill. I am actually inviting criticism here. Please tell me if you have any complaints or advice on how to improve. Even if it's just a personal thing, let me know; all the feedback helps and I won't be insulted. Please. Anything. I want to get better as a writer, and only you can help me do that.

Anyway, thanks for reading, as usual; you guys always make me smile. Hope you're enjoying the fruits of my labor so far! New chapter will be up ASAP.

- Switz