Chapter 2

Spell Books

Merlin had never been one for hoarding. Yes he has picked up a number of things over the years but only practical objects. Like spell books. He had to admit that he might be a spell book hoarder. Other practical things like Kettles erode after a while and have to be be chucked out. But spell books... not so much.

Now, he stood, staring at the massive pile of books in his attic. They took up most of the space at one end. Either stacked up neatly or sprawled across the floor boards in an untidy heap. The other side of the attic had a few objects he had completely forgotten about, like his record player. Not much else, the books didn't allow much room for it. When he released the spell that rid them he was momentarily taken aback.

"What am I going to do?" Merlin muttered. He was sure he had two copies of every spell book in the world.

He stepped forward gingerly and picked one up. It's weathered leather cover was covered in runes and when Merlin turned a page it crackled and snapped. He traced the runes inside, the rough surface of the page felt comforting. There was something homely about it. Like it welcomed him onto the pages.

Reluctantly, he shut the book and put it back down on the stack. He'll have to get a few boxes or something to put them in.

That decided he headed back to the ladder and climbed down. Jumping back down to the ground just two steps up. His muscles flexed and absorbed the impact. He relished in the feeling of his young body. He had been old for over ten years. It felt good to finally get rid of the disguise.

He had transferred the house deeds to his young self yesterday. The previous deeds had been under his old man name - Emyrs Jones. Now he was back to Merlin... Thomson. He had tried to keep to his original name all his life. It stopped him forgetting what his made up name was. When he was traveling, his name didn't matter but when he is in one place, it's necessary to prevent suspicion.

He bounced down the wooden staircase and flew into the kitchen. Glancing around quickly before spinning and going back out to the hall. He continued forward under the living room arch and stopped.

Dust sheets still covered the sofa's and coffee table. The only changes were the fireplace which now roared with flickering flames and the window seat that had the addition of a couple of small pillows. Merlin had sat there last night to eat his dinner.

He bit his lip as he looked at the dust sheets. He considered for a moment before striding forward, grabbing one sheet and ripping it back to reveal the sofa underneath. It was made of brown leather with a simple design. Merlin had cast some spells before he left to prevent mice eating anything so it was undamaged.

Chucking the dust sheet aside, he grabbed the one off the coffee table and added that to the other. Finally, he whipped the last sheet away and stood back to admire the change. It was already starting to look like home again.

Blinking, he remembered why he came downstairs and looked about for the boxes. None in here.

Taking the door back into the hall he went straight across and into the kitchen again. As he went past he pulled the dust sheet off the dining table and folded it as he walked. Making it to the front again, he dumped the dust sheet on the window seat and walked back into the hall. Under the stairs he finally spotted the boxes. Taking them he bounded up the stairs and up the ladder.

Then the second time that day he found himself staring at the spell books.

"There's just so many," he frowned. "I really should stop talking to myself," He rolled his eyes at himself and opened up a cardboard box. He reached for a stack of books and started to drop them into the box.

He sorted through them. Putting the books he wanted to the side and any he didn't in the boxes. He would ask the druids to look after them.

He was halfway through the mountain of books when he started to feel sick. Dust clogged the air as the books were shifted and clung to his lungs. He passed off the feeling as a cause of the dust but when he bent over to pick up another, the feeling strengthened.

Gagging he moved away from the books to the other side of the attic. But it only got worse. He doubled over in pain as his head seared. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears streamed down his face. His knees felt weak and his stomach twisted.

It felt like something - someone - was tearing away his insides. Stretching his limbs and yanking the hair from his head. His magic screamed in panic and he felt it convulse, like it was trying to escape something.

Then it was gone as soon as it came. The pain stopped and strength returned to his limbs. He gulped air, his chest heaving. His magic stilled.

"What was that?" He shook his head and stumbled over to the ladder. But instead of climbing down, he sat on the edge of the opening, his legs dangling in the empty air above the floor. He dug the heel of his palms into his eyes, elbows on his knees.

He stayed like that for a while, not moving. The last of the pain and discomfort leaving his limbs.

Eventually, he sat up and sighed. He frowned at the pile of books. He could swear that something wasn't right about them - or one of them. He stood up and walked towards them, his boots scraped across the wood flooring. He reached the now dwindled pile of books, now that he listened he noticed the slight hum coming from somewhere in the pile.

The frown deepened on his forehead and he took another step forward. The hum intensified, it felt like it was coming from somewhere in the back. Merlin grabbed more books and started shifting them. Not bothering with any packing. He started to feel sick again as he got nearer to whatever it was. But he pushed it away and kept going.

He shifted every book but found nothing.

He could still feel it. Like he was only a foot away from it. But when he looked it wasn't there.

By now, Merlin was gasping for air. His stomach threatening to heave at any moment.

He stumbled away from the tainted area back to the ladder.

He will just have to continue looking tomorrow.

The morning sun streamed through the crack in the curtains. It caught the bed and rested on the bed sheets. Creeping its way up to the mop of black hair just visible under the duvet. The hair shifted to the side to reveal the large ears and rough features of Merlin. His quiet snore was the only noise that softly disturbed the morning peace.

The sound of a distant cockerel's call roused him from sleep somewhat. But he barely opened his eyes before turning over and dropping off again.

The sunlight had reached the half-way point in the opposite wall before he fully awoke. He rolled onto his back, tucking his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, before shutting it again with a shake of his head.

With a huff, he threw back his duvet and stood up. He only wore loose jogging bottoms with no t-shirt. His bare chest covered in goosebumps at the sudden change in temperature. He felt across his abdomen, his fingers bumped against the scar from the bomb shrapnel. He sighed and flexed his biceps while moving towards the bedroom door. His fingers reached out to grab the handle but they never made it.

Raging pain shot through his body. His mouth opened in a scream. But no sound came out. He felt his magic withering in his body. Then suddenly the floor was rushing towards him. He barely had time to reach out to catch himself before he knew no-more.

AN: Sorry... shirtless Merlin. Couldn't help it! *Hides from goblet missiles* It was 3.45 in the morning when I wrote this! But I'm sure almost every woman on here will agree with me that Colin Morgan is cute. :)

Anyway... yea, I'm tired.

Cliff-hanger! :D Yay!

What do you think? Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin!