Author's Note - This is a mainly Merlin centric chapter. Arthur centric next chapter. Just so you know, it is going to get more dramatic. I can never go long without a bit of drama.

I really enjoyed the episode just gone. Love Merlin a lot, even more than before. He's so lovely! Sad that Arthur still hasnt started being more of a friend to Merlin yet rather than a master. He should have been more worried when Merlin didnt show up for work!

Thanks to: CB, uneatenbonbon13, MySisterThinksI'mCrazy, Isis the Sphinx, laurajslr, MegElemental, GhibliGirl91, bcargill9, debookworm01, MagicByMerlin, writing-at-random, Norwegian Blue, Mini Librarian and XxBlueSkiesxX for reviewing!

Merlin was in the library again. However, this time he had someone else with him. This someone was not as patient or as interested as Ellie had been in the books. Arthur was not one to sit around and do nothing. In fact, the young manservant doubted whether he'd set foot in the castle library in his life; well, not without being forced. The prince was definitely an outdoorsy kind of person.

Really, he wasn't sure why Arthur had followed him in here. When Pippa had granted them all residence in the manor for the night, he had expected most people to head straight for the allocated bedrooms. Pippa and Ellie had already turned in – they had gone to bed in high spirits, chatting like two schoolgirls, all previous enmity forgotten. Fortunately, Arthur didn't seem too bothered about rekindling the relationship between himself and Pippa so Ellie didn't have to be upset again. Merlin was glad about that.

Instead, though, the prince had insisted on tailing Merlin and annoying him constantly. One moment he would be tapping his foot, the impatient noise loud on the wooden floor, and the next he would be rapping his knuckles on the hollow bookcases, making up little tunes for himself. It was incredibly frustrating. Merlin could just not concentrate at all; every time he found a book and began to read he would be distracted by the incessant knocking sound.

How was he supposed to find them a way back home if he couldn't even research without Arthur bugging him?!

Letting out a sigh of irritation, Merlin slammed his current tome closed and shot a glare up at his master. The blond haired man seemed not to register his expression as he began to whistle tunelessly. That was the last straw.

"Haven't you got anything better to do?" the manservant, finally, snapped.

Arthur looked at him, surprised. Then he said, "I don't see how us being here is helping to find the crystal."

After much discussion, with Ellie's help as well, they had concluded that the crystal was at the crux of the matter and without it they were stuck. Therefore, they needed renew their efforts in looking for it. Well, Arthur had already pointed out that they hadn't actually been looking for it, they had been looking for Merlin so it was hardly their fault it hadn't been found yet; it was Merlin's. The warlock didn't find that at all helpful.

What to do when – if - they found the crystal would be addressed when they came to it. There was no point in speculating too early on. Merlin was still pondering whether there was a way he could use his magic without Arthur realising. That seemed unlikely because he would need the prince to cooperate in the jump back in time. He had to be in the know. However, his worries and stress were eased slightly by the fact that Ellie knew about his crisis. At least he had someone to confide him. And Nick too. Though, actually, come to think of it, he hadn't seen Nick in awhile.

Merlin nodded, abruptly. "You're right; its not. Why don't you go and get onto that?"

"I'm not leaving you…" Arthur said with a frown.

"Oh," Merlin raised an eyebrow and smirked, cheekily. Now he understood.

"It's not like that, you idiot…" Arthur immediately denied the young man's unspoken suggestion "…okay, so it is. I'm just worried you're going to vanish into thin air or something."

"And leave you behind?"

"And leave me behind," he nodded. Merlin could tell he was fighting an inner battle over his obvious feelings for his manservant. Now that he had Merlin back in his eyesight, he didn't want to lose him. They were close, they were friends and Arthur certainly didn't want to lose his friend again.

"I won't leave you, Arthur," Merlin sighed.

The prince shot him a cynical look. "You don't know that."

"Look, I promise…I promise I won't vanish. I will stay in this room and look at these books and not move from this spot, even if I really, really need to relieve myself. But will you please go away!"

Arthur looked slightly offended but then he grinned, satisfied. Merlin was surprised his promise had had such an effect. Obviously, the prince trusted him more than he thought. "All right then, I'll leave you to your reading. Tell me if you find anything. I'll go to bed. There's no point in me searching for the crystal now. I wouldn't even know where to start."

He began to leave. Inside, the warlock did a little dance of joy. He was free. Arthur's hand was on the door handle and then he stopped. Merlin groaned internally. Please go, he thought. Leave me in peace! The young, golden haired man turned back, his eyes dark in the shadow of the door.

"Just…make sure you get some sleep, Merlin," he said, as if not sure of his words.

"Yes, Mother," Merlin replied. After he'd spoken, he realised that perhaps it was an insensitive phrase to use, what with Arthur not having had a mother. Still, too late now.

Fortunately, the older man looked nonplussed. He began to head out of the door again. Finally.

And then he turned back. Damn.

"Oh, and Merlin-"

"Yes?"

"You can go to use the bathroom if you want." Arthur grinned. "I don't want you wetting yourself on my account." Then he ducked out of the room.

Once he was alone, Merlin could do what he really wanted and that was to select all the books he wanted off the shelves using magic. It was so much easier than lugging the ladder to each individual shelf in order to collect a specific volume. Now, they all flew through the air towards him, from various points around the room, like birds to a bird table. He had been planning to pile them neatly on the floor for him, ready to peruse, but things didn't go quite as expected and so they just ended up in a big heap surrounding him. Oh well, they were within arms reach. Merlin had never been the tidiest or most organised of people. Both his mother and Gaius could vouch for that.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for. To be honest, having exhausted the use of his own battered spell book, he was searching for new alternatives. Surely, if there was one spell book hidden in the depths of this vast library then there would be another. Perhaps, dare he hope it, a treasure trove of them? That would be good.

It would seem that good fortune was with him (for once) and three other spell books found their way onto his lap. They were similar to the original one but slightly less old, if it was possible to tell. Inside them were lists and lists of spells. In Merlin's opinion, they were in a much more random order; as if someone had just written them down as they came into his head. The writing was a scruffy, slanting scrawl, inked in a black quill it would seem. Fingering the letters gently, Merlin suddenly realised, with a rush of clarity, whose hand had written these words.

His.

He, Merlin, the novice, inexperienced warlock, had written a spell book. It was hard to believe. So hard, in fact, that Merlin had to check by writing out a few words on a spare piece of paper with a nearby biro. The shape of the letters was near identical.

But they were so complicated, the spells. At this moment in time, he couldn't even begin to fathom how to perform them but obviously, some future version of himself knew. Perhaps, he could have even invented the incantations himself. They seemed so foreign. Beside each spell was a brief description of what they did. Merlin began to read, enraptured, his raven head bent over the page.

Fyridyn Plor – fire ball (can be sent over long distances but best used in close proximity)

Hugris Daretin – makes ghosts appear (use with caution, they tend not to go away)

Yslesi – icy weather (wear warm clothes, immediately effective)

Borving Franngi – melts opposition (don't use unless really necessary. Very nasty)

It was so strange, seeing these notes made in his hand about spells that he'd never even performed. Obviously, the future – or past – Merlin had a lot of experience with the ups and downs of these enchantments. Although some of them were quite 'nasty' he couldn't help but feel slightly warmed by the fact that he seemed to become powerful and wise enough to perform such magic. At the moment, he could only dream of it.

And if this book was here then surely that meant that he had to get back to his own time. Otherwise, how on earth would he write it?

Filled with hope, Merlin flicked fervently through the yellowed, torn pages and scanned them for a spell that he could use in his current predicament. Surely, his future self would have considered putting the enchantment in his book considering the fact he would have known he would need the spell now. If that made any sense at all.

And there is was.

Merlin could hardly believe his eyes at first. Inked in identical black writing to the rest of the book was a spell which would solve all his problems. He even recognised it vaguely as the one he'd spoken all that time ago in the cave.

Tempus surgi – a spell to jump in time (use rarely, seriously unpredictable. Specific crystal needed in order for it to work. Same crystal must be used to return to original time)

He was right about the crystal then. That had been an important part of performing the spell. Therefore, he still couldn't get home until he had found that gem. Although he had taken a huge leap forward in knowledge, he couldn't do any more than he could have before. That was thoroughly frustrating.

Throwing the book to one side, Merlin clambered to his feet. He had the spell memorised now, burned into his brain. Tempus surgi. It was his ticket home. His and Arthur's. How on earth was he supposed to tell him? As he walked forward, he forgot about the sea of books strewn at his feet. Awhile ago, the young man had shed his boots and so when he knocked his toe on a seriously heavy tome, it really bloody hurt.

"Ouch!" he yelped, hopping manically on one foot and willing the pain away.

Once the majority of the pain had subsided, he glared at the book that had caused him so much agony and pushed it away so he had a clear path to the door. Why did he have to be so clumsy? It was a wonder that he'd managed to survive through life for this long. Arthur was always commenting on his clumsiness and knack for getting into trouble. He was completely right.

It was as he was reaching for the light switch, to turn it off before he left the room that Merlin was made to jump right out of his skin by a figure that stepped out of the shadows.

"Were you planning on tidying up your mess or were you hoping that the house fairies would do the job for you?"

A wrinkled face appeared, illuminated by the lamp that hung in the bracket by the door. Large, owl-like eyes peered at Merlin in an almost gleeful way. The young man wasn't sure what to make of the stranger as he stepped out of the darkness. A silvery beard coated his chin and bushy, white eyebrows that looked like caterpillars dusted in icing sugar sat on his forehead. Those owl eyes watched him with something akin to amusement, their green depths hiding many secrets – something the young warlock could relate to.

Fortunately, judging by his expression, the elderly man didn't look at all bothered really by the act he had caught Merlin in. In fact, he seemed to be rather enjoying the scared-rabbit look in his victim's eyes. The tiny little lines in the corners of his own eyes were the telltale signs of a life of laughter.

"House fairies?" Merlin gulped. Still unsure as to where he stood.

"Was that a query or a choice? Because I'm afraid that we don't have any fairies in service at the moment. You see, they prefer the warmer summer weather rather than our harsh British winters. They migrate to Africa for the winter. Have a wail of a time from what I've heard."

"Er…"

"I only ask because should my wife see the state of the library – not that she ventures up here often; books give her hives apparently – then she would probably have a miniature seizure."

"Um…."

"And she would probably blame me. I wouldn't be allowed pork pies for a week and god knows how I love my pork pies. Probably why I'm a bit of a porker myself." The old man grinned, patting his nonexistent stomach with a bony, veined hand.

Merlin blinked and scratched his head, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

"Sorry, how rude of me, I haven't introduced myself. Then again, one doesn't tend to find a young man wandering around in his library in the middle of the night so perhaps I may be excused. My name is Sir Geoffrey Collingridge."

"You're a knight?" Merlin breathed.

"Dubbed by the Queen herself. Lovely lady. Anyway, your name is?"

"Merlin, sir."

"Ah, Merlin, wonderful name, full of character, never met a Merlin I didn't like. No doubt named after the great wizard himself?"

"You could say that." Merlin gave a weak laugh.

Geoffrey had stepped further into the room; he was interestedly perusing the titles of the books that Merlin had cast carelessly across the floor. He was a tall man; Merlin could see that now; now he was in full view, with neatly combed hair and a straight back. He still looked very distinguished even though he was standing in a pair of dark green silk pyjamas. The warlock also recognised him as the man in the portrait he'd seen on the landing. He was Pippa and Nick and Tristan's father.

The man suddenly came across a book that made his eyes light up. He bent down and picked up a leather bound volume, he flicked through the pages. "A spell book. I haven't seen this before." He turned to look at Merlin, his green eyes piercing. "Is it yours?"

"Yes…I mean, no, sorry, no. I found it here."

"One of mine? Well, I can't say I'm too surprised; there are so many books here that I've never had time to read them all. I would need so many more lifetimes. However, this does look an interesting read. Any particular reason you chose this one?"

Merlin shook his head quickly. "No."

Geoffrey raised one caterpillar eyebrow but said nothing.

"You see." He seemed to have moved on. His gnarled fingers were running along the spines of books on the shelf behind the desk now. He looked to be searching for something. "For me, personally, I love the books of legends. You can't beat a great legend; good for the heart I say: romance, battles, treachery, heroics, tragedy, victory… It's better than a Shakespeare play. Now, I like the Greek myths and Roman legends but I have to say my favourite, by far, is the tale of King Arthur. Maybe now you'll understand why your name struck such a chord with me. There is so much to delve into, so many versions, conflicting and confusing one another. I love the fact there isn't just one true legend."

Merlin was staring at this man in stunned silence. He had no idea what to say so he let the man continue.

"I mean who wouldn't love the figure of King Arthur, such a noble, brave man who did everything to help his people. A courageous skilled knight and horseman too, with his Knights of the Round Table: Sir Bedivere, Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain…and of course, the infamous Queen Guinevere. Doesn't she just make it all the more romantic?"

The fellow had found what he had been hunting for; he had pulled a tome from the shelf and dusted it off. He looked up at Merlin, as if searching for an answer, when he didn't receive one, however, he didn't seem too bothered and just continued with his task. Carefully, he teased open the pages and flicked through a couple. Then he gestured for the young man to come over. Merlin complied, though not completely willingly.

"You see?" He pointed at the picture on the page that depicted a golden headed man riding a white stallion with a shining silver sword glowing in the air above his head. Around him young men stood in knights' garb, their eyes all staring up at their glorious king.

"I see," Merlin nodded, his cheeks paling. He saw that he was not included in this picture of splendour. And that hurt. It was like an icy dagger had speared his heart and splintered, leaving shards of pain embedded in the soft, vulnerable tissue.

His interest in what Geoffrey had to say was waning now, after that severe blow. There was Arthur. And there he wasn't.

"This house is built on what is said to be the remains of Camelot Castle. My wife hated the idea, thought there may be ghosts wondering about the place; things that go bump in the night. What a silly notion." Geoffrey let out a booming laugh that caused Merlin to jump, startled, his blue eyes flashing momentarily, instinctively. "It is even said." He looked at Merlin in a conspiratorial way, like an uncle revealing that he'd hidden some sweets under a plant pot at the end of the garden for you to find. "That our family, the Collingridges, are the descendants of King Arthur himself. Now, I know, if you look in the legends it claims that he had some sons, most of which died childless: Llacheu and Duran to name a couple. However, some have read very, very deep into the folklore and have discovered he had a daughter. She was never mentioned. Not important enough really but it is said we are her kin."

Merlin wasn't sure what to say. He suspected that Geoffrey was right considering that's what he'd thought when he'd first seen the painting of Tristan, and of Geoffrey for that matter who resembled Uther quite a lot but in a less strict way, but now he was fairly certain.

It was like a final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. Fate had brought them here, him and Arthur, to this time and to these people because they were the descendants of the Pendragons. Why? Merlin had no idea. Perhaps, he had learnt the lesson that he should never try out spells without knowing what they did first.

"I think, that maybe, you should be going to bed, young man. You look dead on your feet."

Those owl eyes were piercing him again, scrutinising him. Merlin agreed hurriedly and decided that that was probably a good idea. Just as he was about to leave, he remembered the books.

"Oh, don't bother," Geoffrey waved him away, "You just go off to bed. Oh, actually, before you toddle off, here, you can look in this book. It's got some interesting bits and bobs in. There's some of Merlin too. If that's what you're interested in."

A warm feeling rose in the pit of the warlock's stomach. Perhaps, he hadn't been forgotten completely. Gratefully, he took the proffered volume and said goodbye before leaving. There was a spring in his step now; even more so when he walked down a passage and saw Arthur standing outside Ellie's door. He looked nervous.

Merlin smiled. Maybe, he would finally apologise.

Whoop! That was a long chapter! Hope you liked!