No Better Assassin

A/N: Sorry in advance for the ridiculously long Author's Note you're about to read!

First: If you have not read the last chapter since I first posted it, then please go back and read it again before continuing onward because I reworked the last third of the chapter or so and added a few things. Thanks!

Second: I thought this might be a good time to clear up a few things that may or may not have been confusing some people about what exactly is happening to Merlin. As you all know (from the episode and this story), the Fomorroh takes over Merlin's mind and tries to force him to kill Arthur (in this story, Morgana has specified that Merlin must kill Arthur with magic.).

But, there has been a wrench in the works. Basically, the Magic of the Old Religion, while trying to re-establish the balance between good and evil that had been screwed up when Morgana forced the Fomorroh into Merlin, rescued a part of Merlin's soul from being controlled (or allowed Merlin to rescue himself, if you will) by the force of his good magic. This resulted in Merlin's soul effectively being split between the good and evil forces (Merlin vs. Fomorroh) but sharing the same physical body...and, more importantly, sharing the same magic.

Right now, the Fomorroh-controlled part of Merlin has control of their physical body and most of the magic as well. Our Merlin will have to fight to try and get back control of both, which is why he's been stealing pieces of magic.

Third: Now that there are two of him, I will be labeling them as such in the story: "Fomorroh-Merlin" when it is his own thoughts or actions, or if, at some point, the observer knows he is the Fomorroh-controlled part of Merlin. If I use just "Merlin", then that is either the "good" Merlin (this should be obvious), or else the person who is dealing with him is not aware that he's the "bad" Merlin. If I happen to use just "Fomorroh", then that is actually the creature and not Merlin. Hopefully, this will not be confusing when you read it. If it is, please let me know.

Fourth: In response to a not-as-kind-as-it-could-be unsigned review, I thought I would explain my theory as to why Merlin's magic became so weak in the instance of this story and not when Merlin was, say, dying of poison. I felt that because, unlike normal sorcerers, Merlin IS magic, it would work similarly in his case to his actual life-blood. So, when he was losing significant amounts of his life-blood, it would drain away his magic as well. This is in contrast to being poisoned, because he still retained all his life-blood; instead it was an impurity in his system that was killing him. (Plus, he was saving Arthur and not himself when he used his magic...all bets are *always* off in my mind when Arthur's involved)

That, and this story just wouldn't work the way I wanted it to if Merlin retained his full powers the whole time. (After all, Merlin is still human, and therefore must have some sort of Achilles heel, even if he is spectacularly amazing.)

Whew! Okay, now to normal stuff. Thanks a ton for all your great feedback! I really, really love it! It literally makes my day. :) And darn it, I SO had a place I wanted to end this chapter at (it was EVIL), but the chapter kept growing and growing until it would have been WAY too long a chapter.

Dragonrider2203 made a great point about how supposedly (according to Morgana's description of the effects of the Fomorroh anyway) Merlin would be so fixated on killing Arthur that he would have a hard time sleeping or eating. I hope that I have been able to capture the beginnings of these effects convincingly.

So, while no great evil cliffie to attack you this time, I do hope you'll enjoy this little foray into the mind of our poor Fomorroh-controlled warlock.

Please review! Thank you! :)

Chapter 7: Snake Eyes

Merlin was exhausted. While he knew his body had rested almost the whole way back to Camelot, and he had tuned out to try to rest as well, he felt as if he hadn't slumbered at all. His nerves felt frazzled. He sensed the reason without knowing how he knew: while he may have tried to relax and sleep, the rest of his soul that was controlled by the Fomorroh had not. He could almost hear the crazed and deluded thoughts going around and around in circles beside him, like a roommate who snored too loud.

Having to share your body and mind with a Fomorroh is definitely no walk in the park, Merlin thought with an internal sigh. The only good thing about the current situation was that his friends were currently bringing him to Gaius' chambers, which were completely on the other side of the castle from Arthur's. Furthermore, the knights were to stay with him until Gaius got there, and then Gaius would watch over him, which meant his alter ego couldn't exactly go wandering off killing Arthur anytime soon.

This was as good a time as any to try and rest. Perhaps this time he would feel better when he awoke.

As Fomorroh-Merlin was half-strong-armed, half-carried further and further away from his target, his anger and desperation grew. The gossamer haze of pleasure that had settled over him while he was in Arthur Pendragon's presence was fading, leaving behind a gnawing ache of need and anxiety that made him want to claw at his own skin. Yet, his physical body was still weak and had no chance of removing himself from the clutches of four Knights of Camelot without using magic.

The Fomorroh considered forcing his host to use this course of action, but very unwillingly decided to wait. He didn't want to give away his host's secret prematurely, lest he ruin his chances to easily gain access to his mark. Besides, he still had that troublesome Merlin to contend with.

In the Fomorroh's ancient collective memory, it had never found anyone able to resist its power. So how was this scrawny weakling of a man was able to do what had heretofore been impossible?

Yet, Merlin's presence had been little more than a nuisance. The part of the man's soul that had separated itself was small and relatively powerless compared to the part it controlled. Merlin may have survived, the Fomorroh thought in smug certainty, but the warlock could do little more than watch as his host body destroyed the King of Camelot with his own magic.

And that perhaps, the Fomorroh mused, would make this victory the sweetest of them all.

The door to Gaius' chamber swung open wide, slamming against the opposite wall as a very awkward cluster of four knights and a very unsteady-on-his-feet Merlin crossed the threshold.

"Where should we put him?" Elyan asked the others, slightly out of breath.

Leon moved around to close the door behind them.

Percival gestured with his chin toward Gaius' cot. "There," he breathed, starting to lurch in that direction.

Gwaine's voice stopped him cold. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Percival asked as his brows knit together, frowning.

"Don't know about you, but I don't fancy being on the receiving end of one of Gaius' infamous raised eyebrows. I don't think he'd appreciate his bed smelling like a swamp." Gwaine's grin spread infectiously to all the others in the room…except for Merlin.

"You all realize that I am right here, don't you?" Fomorroh-Merlin snapped, yanking his forearm out of Percival's loose grasp and plopping himself down into a chair at the table he and Gaius used for meals. He grimaced as his sore muscles complained of the sudden motion. "Perhaps you should ask me where I want to be?"

All four knights stared at Merlin, nonplussed. Rarely had they ever heard Merlin sound this annoyed…and when they had, it had always been toward Arthur, not them.

"Sorry, Merlin," Elyan immediately apologized, his soft voice contrite as he placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "We were only trying to help."

Fomorroh-Merlin abruptly shrugged Elyan's hand away, spitting petulantly, "Well, you're not. I shouldn't be here. I should be with my King."

Leon shook his head in wonderment. Merlin's loyalty to Arthur was sometimes unnerving in its intensity, and this was one of those times. "Merlin, you've been injured. You were lost in the forest for two days. You can barely stand on your own, let alone serve Arthur." Leon met Merlin's eyes and was startled to see how hard and cold they appeared…so un-Merlin-like.

It must be the pain, he reasoned before continuing, "Besides, Arthur has ordered you here so Gaius can take a look at you and treat your wounds, and we are to keep you company while you wait. So like it or not, you're stuck here with us for the time being."

Sullenly, Fomorroh-Merlin leaned his elbow on the table and propped his head up with his hand. "Great." Sarcasm practically dripped from the word.

Again, the four other men exchanged mystified looks. Percival's look to Elyan clearly asked, What do you think is wrong with him? Elyan shrugged one shoulder in response. The two of them and Leon turned and they all stared at Gwaine. He got the telepathic message loud and clear: You're the closest friend to him of all of us…you talk to him.

With a raise of his eyebrows and a shake of his head, Gwaine thought, Well, here goes nothing…

While the other three knights made themselves scarce about the room, Gwaine guardedly pulled out the chair opposite Merlin and sat down. He tilted his head to the side to study the odd look on Merlin's face before asking, "Merlin, what's up with you, mate? You can tell your old pal Gwaine."

Fomorroh-Merlin wanted nothing more than for these troublesome knights to leave him alone. He had planning to do and he couldn't do that if they kept bothering him. "Nothing is up with me," he huffed. "I simply want to get back to my duties as soon as possible."

Gwaine knew that Merlin took his responsibility to Arthur much more seriously than Arthur believed he did, but he knew that this time Merlin was asking the impossible of himself. "I don't think Arthur'll begrudge you a few days off to recuperate first. With all you do for him, I'm sure you've earned it."

"Look, I don't want a few days off; I'm fine! I just want you all to leave me alone and let me get back to work!" Merlin erupted as he literally sprung to his feet, swaying precariously as he suddenly got dangerously lightheaded. Gwaine reached out to steady his friend, but his hand froze mid-motion as he encountered Merlin's glare-of-death. Merlin steadied himself by gripping the table before turning around and pointing his finger in a sweeping motion to include the rest of the knights, "And Gaius will not be thanking you lot for getting into his stores and messing up his things!"

Before any of them had a chance to react or respond, an indignant voice reverberated throughout the room. "What is the meaning of this?" Gaius demanded, staring down each man in the room in turn until his eyes finally rested on Merlin.

"Merlin!" Gaius barked at him, "What was all of that shouting about?" Stalking toward the table, he pointed imperiously at Merlin's swaying person and then the chair behind him. "Sit down before you fall down!"

Fomorroh-Merlin seethed at being ordered around by the old man, but in order to keep himself from cursing Gaius and revealing his magic in front of all of them, he snapped his jaw shut audibly and dropped like a stone into the seat.

Next, Gaius turned his ire upon the knights. "And what did you do to upset my patient?"

Leon, as spokesman for the group, protested, "We didn't do anything, Gaius, we swear!" Elyan, Percival and Gwaine all nodded vigorously. "It's just that…Merlin took exception to not being able to return to his duties right away, even though we explained that it really wouldn't be possible."

Gaius frowned as he turned back toward Merlin. "Is this true?" he scolded. Merlin stubbornly refused to answer or even look at him, which he took as a sign that the knights' story was the truth. "Well, you can forget about that. Arthur said you are not to return to your duties until you are fully healed."

Noticing that Merlin was about to protest, Gaius cut him off and spoke over him, "Which you aren't. Not until I say so."

Merlin had a mutinous look on his face but stayed silent and Gaius nodded once in satisfaction. "Now," he continued, looking at the knights, "Let's clear off that table over there," Gaius pointed at a table that had a few potions and elixirs on it, "and lay down a clean sheet. Percival, if you would be so kind as to go down to the well and fetch me a fresh pail of clean water I would appreciate it…Two if you can manage it. It looks like we have a lot of clean up to do."

"You can say that again," Gwaine muttered with a snicker, pinching his nose as if to block out all smell and eyeing Merlin up and down cockily.

Merlin turned and looked Gwaine right in the eyes. His face was dark and menacing and held an expression the knight had never seen on Merlin before: hatred. Gwaine felt a shiver run up his back despite being the one armed with a sword. He took a step backward unconsciously, blinked twice and shook his head, knowing he must be seeing things…because for a split second, it almost looked like Merlin's blue eyes flickered with bright sparks of gold.

Everyone else in the room was oblivious to this tense moment that passed between the two men.

Percival nodded and grabbed the mostly empty water bucket by the stove as well as an empty one by the door. "Sure, Gaius." He smiled pleasantly. "No problem."

Meanwhile, Leon and Elyan made quick work of moving the supplies to Gaius' main workbench. Gaius pointed toward the broom cupboard where he stored extra linens to use during treatment of patients and the two men retrieved a sheet and neatly draped it over the tabletop.

Gaius glanced over to his right where Gwaine was standing, uncertainly leaning his weight back and forth from foot to foot. Assuming he was concerned for his friend, Gaius sought for something useful for the man to do. "Gwaine, perhaps you wouldn't mind helping Merlin get those boots and socks off? That way he won't have to bend over. He and I can take care of the rest, I think."

Gwaine startled as if from a reverie, took a minute to process what the physician had said to him and then nodded, casting a cautious eye in Merlin's direction. Then, shrugging, he ambled over to stand in front of Merlin, undid his sword belt, leaned the sheathed sword against the table leg and crouched down in front of the seated man.

As Gwaine's hands reached out toward the buckles on Merlin's right boot, he leaned forward and hissed, "Don't. Touch. Me!"

Gwaine looked up with widened eyes into Merlin's cold, harsh face, startled by the almost snakelike words.

But however quietly the words had been spoken; they had been overheard. "Merlin!" Gaius admonished his ward sternly. "How dare you? I don't care how upset or frustrated you are; you do not speak to people like that…especially your friends. Apologize right now!"

A nerve twitched in Merlin's jaw and his eyelids closed over eyes that felt hot with the sting of magic. "Sorry," he bit out between clenched teeth.

"It's all right, Merlin," Gwaine said softly, his hands fumbling for a moment with the first shoe buckle before he was able to unlatch it. "I'm sure you must have been through a lot. I shouldn't have teased you earlier."

Fomorroh-Merlin took a deep breath and pushed the magic back down. "It's okay," he said, his voice almost totally devoid of feeling, "It's just been a very long day."

"So…" Gwaine tried to make small talk as he continued with his task, "The mercenaries had you, then?"

"I…don't know," Fomorroh-Merlin lied. "I don't remember anything at all that happened until this afternoon, not long before you and Arthur found me. I just…woke up in that bog."

"Oh." Gwaine slipped Merlin's right boot and sock off his friend's foot and put them aside. He was a bit disappointed. He'd hoped for a couple of anecdotes, or even a thrilling escape story. "So you don't know how you escaped either, huh?"

"No," Fomorroh-Merlin answered succinctly.

"Ah, well…" Gwaine said expansively as he started on Merlin's other boot. "Can't win them all, I guess. After all, it's not like you need thrilling stories of derring-do to impress the pretty barmaids, anyway."

Behind them, Leon snorted back laughter as he leaned backward against the table he and Elyan prepared. "Not to hear Arthur tell it. He's constantly complaining of Merlin being in the tavern."

"What?" Gwaine asked in astonishment as he gently tugged on and removed Merlin's other boot and sock and tucked it next to the first under the table. He pushed himself to a stand and brushed his hands together to remove the residual mud he'd accumulated from the grimy boot buckles. "Where'd Arthur get that idea?" Gwaine grabbed his sword belt and reattached it.

Leon shrugged. "I don't know. But whenever he can't seem to find Merlin, that's where Arthur always says he is."

"Merlin's never in the tavern," Gwaine denied vehemently. "I would know; the Rising Sun is like my second home! The only time I ever see him in there is when he's come to drag me back to my rooms. Isn't that right, Merlin?"

Fomorroh-Merlin, who had been thinking about which spells he wanted to practice that evening, startled at the sound of his name and stuttered, "Huh? Oh, yeah, right. Sorry."

"Well, if you're never in the tavern when Arthur thinks you are, Merlin," Elyan inquired curiously, "then where are you?"

Gaius cast a worried look at Merlin and opened his mouth to intervene when Percival thankfully took that moment to reappear with two full water buckets. "Where would you like these, Gaius?"

"Right there next to the table, Percival. Thank you."

Percival placed his cargo down next to Leon and straightened up. "Now what? Would you like us to get Merlin up onto the table for you?"

Gaius shook his head, indicating his answer. "No. Actually, I'm going to have Merlin strip off and wash up before getting him up there." Merlin looked up at him sharply at that news. Realizing Merlin would probably be quite embarrassed about that, (not to mention that Merlin preferred to hide the vast amount of scars he'd accrued since moving to Camelot) he decided it was time to send the knights on their way. "I think he and I will manage that between us just fine. I thank you for your help, gentlemen."

With a collective shrug, the knights wished Merlin their best and began to file out the door. Leon, who was last in line, stuttered to a stop at Gaius's call, 'Oh, and Leon?"

Looking back at the physician, Leon answered politely, "Yes?"

Gaius smiled and inquired, "Would you mind terribly asking Lady Guinevere if she would stop by in about an hour or so?"

"Sure, Gaius. I'm sure she'd be happy to."

Gaius nodded once. "Thank you."

Once the door clicked shut behind Sir Leon, Gaius ambled over and gave Merlin's arm a light tug. "All right, up you get. Let's get you cleaned up and stitched up."

Fomorroh-Merlin stood as requested, his mind still whirring, pondering which spells would be best to practice and which ones he might master quickest. After all, the sooner he could effectively cast the magic, the sooner he could get his reward.

His shudder of remembered ecstasy happened to coincide with Gaius' tugging at Merlin's jacket in an attempt to remove the soggy item. "Merlin, are you all right?" Gaius peered carefully up into Merlin's face, trying to determine if he'd inadvertently caused his ward more pain.

"I'm fine," Fomorroh-Merlin replied hoarsely, clearing his throat to control the fierce longing in his belly. He dropped his shoulders loosely, allowing the old man to remove the ruined leather before moving his own hands to unbuckle and remove the slimy belt at his waist.

"Well, you'll be needing a new one of those," Gaius said with distaste, carrying the offending jacket by two fingers and laying it atop the hearth's woodpile for burning. Gaius walked back to stand beside Merlin and put his hand firmly on the young man's upper arm. "Okay, over to the table now. Do you think you can make it?"

Fomorroh-Merlin nodded, putting his effort into coordinating his movements while ignoring how lightheaded he felt. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the table bump lightly against the back of his thighs.

Gaius let go of Merlin's elbow and placed a towel on the table next to him. "All right, trousers off. You can cover up with that."

Fomorroh-Merlin unfastened his trouser button and the pants slid right off him, pooling at his ankles. Gaius saw this and tsked at him, asking, "Merlin, when was the last time you ate?"

Sitting on the table, Fomorroh-Merlin slid back so that the table edge caught in the crook of his knees, and then kicked his feet slightly to allow the dirty trousers to fall onto the floor. Following that, Fomorroh-Merlin answered readily, "This afternoon. After Arthur and Gwaine found me, they gave me some bread."

Grabbing the towel, Fomorroh-Merlin slid it up under the long hem of his dirty tunic and settled it across his lap.

"And before that?" Gaius demanded, worry creasing his already wrinkled forehead.

Fomorroh-Merlin shrugged. "Don't know," he mumbled.

Gaius looked down at the now-discarded trousers on the floor and frowned. "Too long, I'd wager. Your trousers shouldn't just fall off you like that."

When Merlin didn't answer, Gaius sighed wearily, but prompted him, "Now the shirt. Here, let me help you." He stepped forward to lend his assistance, remembering what Arthur had told him about the severity of Merlin's chest wound. But Merlin shocked his mentor by simply reaching down with both hands and nimbly pulling the fabric up and over his head to expose his scar-pocked chest. While the expanse of skin displayed a positively unhealthy amount of healed wounds of all shapes and sizes, it was definitely missing one thing: a gaping, ugly, infected mace wound.

A/N: And why yes, I did just leave Merlin sitting on that table clothed in nothing but a towel. Maybe that could be considered an evil cliffie after all? ;)