Chapter Ten

"Who are you?" Merlin demanded, studying the man before him carefully. "And how did you get access to Arthur's mind like this?"

"Have you gone insane?"

"You're not fooling me. I know you're not Arthur. You've possessed him somehow. I just don't know how. Or why. What's your plan with all of this? To remove Edgar? To stir up trouble between Camelot and Nemeth? To undermine Mithian? Take control of Camelot? What's your aim?"

Arthur's eyes hardened. "You're an irritating, meddlesome fool, aren't you? Arthur was right about that."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "So you admit it, then."

"Why not?" he asked. "No one's here but you and me."

"Mithian knows the truth, too. As well as Edgar."

"Mithian who has been enchanted by Edgar. And then this convenient little reasoning comes along to let them off the hook. Do you really think anyone is going to believe that? I'll kill you, then just watch as things take care of themselves tomorrow morning for our kingdoms."

"Our kingdoms," Merlin repeated. That answered one question. "So you're from Nemeth, then."

"Yes I'm from Nemeth."

"And human."

"Of course." His eyes narrowed. "But that's all you're going to find out." He reached behind him and pulled out a small knife.

Merlin studied it. "That's not Arthur's," he noted. Arthur didn't carry a hidden dagger with him. Although perhaps he should, with the number of scrapes just like this they'd landed in over the years.

"No, it's mine. I never go anywhere without it, even if I'm in someone else's body."

"You going to kill me, then?" Merlin asked calmly. "And how, may I ask, do you expect to explain a dead body locked in here with you?"

"Mithian killed you," he said simply. "And dumped you in here to try to intimidate me into renouncing my accusation against Edgar. But her actions only fueled my determination to see Edgar hang for his crimes and restore Mithian to her senses."

"I think you'll find that I'm not so easy to kill."

"Is that so?"

"A lot of people have tried to kill me, you see. And many of those people are far more powerful than you, I'd wager. Yet here I am."

The imposter frowned. "Arthur has no memory of anyone trying to kill you."

"He wouldn't. I never tell him."

"Why would anyone attack a serving boy?"

A tiny smile tucked at the corner of Merlin's mouth. "Because I am far more than a serving boy." His eyes flashed, and the knife flew from Arthur's hand straight into his own, leaving him staring dumbfounded at his now empty hand.

"You—you—"

"I told you. I have been protecting Arthur. It seems every week something happens. Some sort of assassination attempt—poisoning, archers, enchantments and spells—there's always something. Get in the way of those plans often enough and certain people start to notice. And when they do, they figure I'll be easy to get rid of."

"You're a sorcerer."

"Yes, well. I usually keep a better hold on that little secret, but the idea of fighting you off by physical means in this cramped little space does not fill me with confidence, unless I just knocked you out. But I need answers."

"And Arthur had no idea."

"No," he agreed sadly. "He doesn't.

"He does now."

Merlin barked a laugh. "Oh yes. And unless I allow you to keep control of his mind, when he comes to he'll have me immediately executed, is that right? Good try."

"You don't believe me."

"I know enough people who have been possessed to know they never remember anything afterwards. Stars, I've been possessed! Tried to kill Arthur on several occasions while under that influence, or so I'm told. Luckily I have friends who noticed I wasn't myself and helped sort me out before I managed it. And now I'm here to help sort Arthur out."

"Well, good luck with that," he responded, unconcerned. "You can't fight me—not without hurting Arthur. What do you expect to do?"

"Offer you a choice. Leave Arthur now and return to your own body. I don't even know who you are. There will be no repercussions, this time."

"Can't do that. You see, if I return to my body, then this whole plan is botched. All I have to do is wait through tomorrow morning, and everything will work out quite nicely. Either Edgar will be executed, or Camelot and Nemeth will be at war. Possibly both, which would be even better. Either way, my situation is much improved."

Merlin made a mental note about those two motivations. "Then that leaves us with the second option."

"Which is?"

"I dive inside your head and tear you out of Arthur's skull by force. I'll find out exactly who you are, exposing every dirty little part of your plan. Then I will find you—assuming your consciousness survives such a violent exchange, and end you."

"You could seriously harm Arthur, if you do that."

"Can't be any worse than leaving you inside his head, doing who knows what kind of damage."

"I think you're bluffing. Your power must be negligible, for you to hide so easily in Camelot. There's no way you can do what you claim. And you certainly wouldn't risk Arthur's safety so readily, even if you could. I've gone through enough of his memories to know that to be true."

"You're right, I would never risk Arthur's safety. But there's one thing that you're very, very wrong about. I am damn good, and damn powerful. If anyone can get Arthur out of this mess without hurting him, it's me. So what's it going to be?"

He looked only moderately fazed, clearly not quite believing Merlin's claims. "Do your worst then, sorcerer."

Merlin's hand shot up without hesitation. "Gostegu."

The not-Arthur froze entirely, except for his eyes, which darted around frantically, finally resting on Merlin and exposing his sudden fear. Merlin was every bit as powerful as he had claimed.

Slowly, Merlin stepped forward, then raised his hands and placed them on either side of the king's face. "Don't worry Arthur," he said softly, staring into those eyes that were all wrong. "I'm going to get you back."

His eyes glowed as everything stilled, including his own breath and heartbeat. He let his senses expand outwards and into Arthur, feeling for that magical pulse that should not exist, and following it along a wide, spider-web of strings directly into the depths of Arthur's captured mind.

.~.

Merlin blinked rapidly, thoroughly and completely disoriented for a long moment. When his senses at last returned to him, he took a good look around, only to have his jaw drop open in shock.

Camelot.

He was in Camelot! How…?

He spun around on the spot. People passed him on all sides, going about their business as usual, completely unconcerned. Chickens clucked from their coops, children laughed as they passed along the street. It was all so—"

"How's your knee walking coming along?"

—familiar.

He jerked around to look behind him. "Oh, don't run away!"

He'd seen this before. He'd done this before.

Sure enough, there was Arthur, looking several years younger than the one he knew now. And yes! There he was! This was eerie. He was looking at himself from all those years ago.

"From you?"

Standing there in the middle of the pathway, Merlin—the current Merlin—just about jumped out of his skin when someone walked through him. What the heck was going on?

But he knew, didn't he? This was exactly what he'd been trying to do, get inside of Arthur's head. He looked around again. But all he saw was a distant memory. He didn't see anyone that didn't belong. Where was this imposter? Hiding amongst the onlookers somewhere?"

"Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb."

Merlin turned to look again at their past selves, and couldn't help but laugh. He saw the mischievous look on his own face as he turned to face Arthur and called him a royal arse.

This had been their second meeting—after Merlin had already been thrown into the stocks after their first. It was interesting, looking back on this after so much time had passed. He thought about this moment frequently enough in his own head, but he noticed things were slightly different this time around. The faces of those around them were less clear than they were in his memory. The faces of the knights hanging around Arthur, on the other hand, were far clearer. They were faces that Merlin had trouble remembering. Arthur had clearly taken notice of different details throughout this exchange. This really was Arthur's memory of their early encounter.

"I could take you apart in one blow."

"I could take you apart in less than that."

Merlin winced. Those words sounded so cocky—even to his own ears, who knew what he'd been implying. Arthur was right about him. In many ways, he really was an idiot. But it had worked out ok, certainly.

He stood watching, transfixed, as Arthur tossed him a mace and they began their fight. It was a strange sensation. When he remembered this scene, he saw the rope pulling itself taught, the hooks overhead moving into the way, the box blocking Arthur's path. But in Arthur's memory, nothing like that happened. Everything was as it should be, because Arthur hadn't seen any of his magical tricks. He'd just assumed Merlin was lucky that day. And Arthur had still won in the end.

Only because Gaius distracted me, Merlin thought, somewhat smugly. Although his mentor had had good reason to. As he saw Arthur get up from his stumbled position and knock him over with a broom, Merlin had to wonder how their relationship would have turned out if he'd have actually won. Arthur probably would not have taken kindly to being so humiliated. Especially the early-years Arthur.

Still, it was good too—

Before he could even finish the thought, the entire scene blinked out of existence. The whole of Camelot was gone in a moment, and in its place was the vast forest he had ventured into so many times, right at the snap and twang of a bow string. A great white creature in front of him fell, and Merlin saw himself running to it, horrified.

Arthur was on scene shortly after, looking triumphantly down on his kill.

That poor unicorn. "What have you done?"

And immediately the scene shifted again, before Arthur could even reply.

A new scene again took its place: a small village that was very familiar to Merlin, but it was in chaos.

Bandits rode through Ealdor mercilessly, but the villagers fought bravely. Even the women, smacking those they could reach with brooms and fists, whatever got the job done.

Why? Merlin asked himself, staring around. Why here? Why these memories? What was going on? Why was he taking this little field trip through Arthur's mind? He should be—"

He blinked and then he was somewhere else. Still in Ealdor, but from a different vantage point. Arthur was right by his side, but the king—prince, Merlin corrected himself—froze with a look akin to horror on his face as he slowly straightened from having felled his most recent opponent, looking off a fair ways.

Merlin followed his gaze and gulped. There stood he and Will, backs to him, as a gust of wind shot up and took the form of a small tornado, tearing the remaining bandits away.

This was what Arthur had seen? It really did look as though it could have been Will. But of course, Merlin knew differently.

The scene jumped forward, and Merlin was watching himself and Arthur stand before Will's pyre as they said goodbye.

"You shouldn't have kept this from me, Merlin."

Another scene change.

"I believe he said he was going spend the day at the tavern."

Change.

"I'm looking for woodworm."

Change.

This scene must be more recent, Merlin realized, as the faces of everyone looked closer to their current age. The knights were all there, as was Gaius, but Merlin frowned as he stared down at himself, looking lifeless. Which time was this?

Oh. This was the doracha. That's why he looked so cold. They'd passed through him. He should have died. But he hadn't.

Yes, there was Lancelot as well.

More memories came, more and more frequently. Some passed so quickly he couldn't even tell what they were before Arthur's mind jumped again. His past self was present in most of them, not all. One of the most sticking memories without him included Arthur and several of the knights rushing about the forest in full armor, looking very worried.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. Merlin got the distinct impression from the other knight's faces that this was not the first time, and that past-Merlin had yet to respond. Looking for him one of the many times he had disappeared, he supposed.

The next memory that came was vastly different than the others, and it felt quite strange. It was one of the corridors in Mithian's castle, clearly. He'd walked down that same one many times over the course of their stay.

Let me go! Get out of my head!

Merlin startled, as he realized the reason for this different memory. He wasn't staring at the scene, as previously, he was actually looking through Arthur's eyes.

Can't do that. I have lots of plans for this body.

That voice was unfamiliar. In fact, it wasn't even a voice. This must be early on in Arthur's possession. He was seeing the same way Arthur did—trapped inside his own head with no interaction outside.

He watched as Mithian came, and fake-Arthur talked pleasantries, while real-Arthur scrambled for some semblance of control, eventually protesting that his captor would never get away with this.

I fooled Merlin didn't I? the voice pointed out. Yes, and I can feel how much that stings. Your greatest friend didn't even realize it wasn't you. If he can't see through the façade, who can?

"I saw, Arthur," Merlin said out loud, not knowing why he bothered. This was a memory, there was no altering what had already happened. "I knew something was off. It just took me a while to realize how off. I'm coming for you, I promise. I won't leave you slave to this monster.I'll free you from him."

As the memory faded to be replaced by the training courts, with Arthur and Mithian coming up to talk to Merlin and Leon, the words of the memory suddenly didn't matter to Merlin as something very, very important dawned on him.

Arthur was remembering the training grounds.

Arthur remembered walking through the halls.

These last few memories, they were all from when Arthur was trapped inside his mind. He remembered.

Oh no.

As if to confirm his rapidly growing panic, a new memory took the place of the archery field. A dungeon formed, dark and shadowy from the flickering torchlight, but clear none-the-less. The dagger flew from his hand to Merlin, who stood calmly on the opposite side of the cell. Then—

"Gostegu."

No. No, Merlin's panic only grew. No, no, no! Not like this!

Merlin closed his eyes, gathering his magic within himself, and propelled himself forward, past all these memories, jerking himself to the present moment as terror quickly filled him completely.

When he opened his eyes next, there were no familiar scenes around him. A large expanse of white stretched out in all directions, as far as his eye could see. Except for a pair of familiar blue eyes that were starring at him, and judging by the way they were wide and shocked, they had seen.

Arthur had seen. And Arthur remembered.

The imposter had not been lying.

A/N: Tada! Poor Merlin's a little bit panicked now. Any predictions for how Arthur's going to react? Or what's gonna happen with the imposter?

~Syd