The cold shock of the water caused him to gasp as he crashed into it. He just had a split second to drag some air into his lungs before the water completely engulfed him and he went down. Arthur felt himself dragged down, the water pressing on him.

'Shit, I can't swim!' came the thought. He had gone for lessons, when he had lived at the orphanage. But he had been so young then, he hadn't been in the water since he was about eleven or so. Relaxing, he remembered; if you relaxed you floated. He tried that for all of two seconds, as he did it, he seemed to roll over in the water and he kicked his legs and flailed his arms realising the weight on his back was not helping. His rucksack didn't know how to relax and float, it was going to drag him down.

Giving an almighty kick he tried to surge up to the surface and somehow managed to flip himself head down. It felt like something was pulling on his backpack, trying to get him down. As he had said to the old man, who looked harmless, appearances were deceptive. Arthur's recent memory flashed before his eyes, kidnapping, gargoyles, Merlin's magic, Gwen, Uther... it ran though his head.

He was supposed to be looking for something here, he thought, as the water, and the weight on his back, pulled him. Arthur fought for a few seconds and suddenly broke the surface. The sound of shouting vaguely caught his attention and he wondered if Merlin could do something to help, or if they were all there, and if they were going into the water after him, they had to keep track of him.

The golden flash told him his eyes were open as he went down again, and a shadow moved in front of his eyes. He tensed his hand as something latched on, and Arthur pulled away. His head turned, causing his neck to throb and he saw the shadow flicker away from him. Arthur felt air ease out of his lungs, to get back up he had to lose his pack. That fought against everything he knew, to lose so many things, all the supplies his father had bought him, but it was that or risk drowning and Arthur rolled in the water again trying to pull his arm free. He shrugged his shoulder frantically, which only seemed to spin him over as he moved in the water.

He tried kicking his legs to get back up to the surface of the water, but that didn't seem to work in conjunction with getting his backpack off. As he drifted lower into the water he remembered the knife strapped to the side of his back. Just before he had walked over to the old man he had checked to make sure he could easily reach and pull it from the sheath.

Reaching a hand round he scrabbled for the item, praying that it had not come loose, or slid from the sheath. He found the firm line of the sheath by touch and ran his hand down frowning as he couldn't find the hilt. Then he had the sense to move his hand in the other direction. Spinning around in the water seems to have addled his mind. He tried not to laugh at the thought, and the other thought considering the idea that years of performing blow jobs had taught him how to hold his breath. He almost gasped in relief as his fingers curled around the hilt of the knife and he yanked it free.

At first he aimed for the section of the strap on his shoulder, but there was too much padding to make the job easy, so instead he changed tack and went by his ribs were there was just thin webbing. Air burst out from his lungs as he ripped his coat, jabbing the tip of the knife into his side. From that point he moved away from his body, meeting some tension and feeling the tug. Arthur increased the pressure, sawing as quickly as he could.

The weight suddenly shifted to the side as the webbing snapped apart and the jerk of his arm meant that Arthur lost his grip on the knife. His hand reached out, trying to snatch it back but it fell quickly out of reach. However, what he had done was enough as the loss of one strap pulled the weight the other side and Arthur turned with it, letting the pack fall and he eased his arm clear of the other strap. Kicking his legs as hard as he could he pushed up towards the surface keeping his head upwards as the light grew stronger. He gasped as he broke the surface of the water again taking several frantic breaths, half turning he saw that both Leon and Uther were scrabbling out to get to him. Arthur made the effort to try and get to them, desperately trying to remember his long ago lessons.

In the end he just settled for kicking his legs and using his arms to try and get himself going in the correct direction. He had only gone a short distance when something seemed to latch onto his leg and he slid under again. Kicking out with his other foot he connected with something solid and the grip released and he came up again.

This time when he rose he came up facing the rocks of the causeway. Arthur struggled towards them at least thinking that he could latch onto them and hang on until someone managed to reach him. Concentrating on what he was doing he kicked out and managed to coordinate his arms into a manageable crawl.

It changed to flailing as he tangled in something, freeing himself he looked up to stare at the crude fishing rod, still wedged in the rock and the line pulled again, Arthur grabbed it, hoping that he could use it as anchorage, and he felt the force of the pull again, jerking downwards into the water. Looking down he saw the bright flash again and at closer quarters realised that it looked nothing like a fish. As he pondered it the old man's words echoed around his head, so loudly that Arthur jerked his head up expecting to see the man sat back in position.

However, despite the words resonating around his head the causeway was empty. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of dark hair as Merlin struggled across the rocks towards him. Taking a deep breath Arthur ducked his head under the water and hung onto the line for grim death as he worked his way down. The rope rubbed against the material of his gloves, but he kept the grip firm and followed it down still feeling the pull.

His lungs were burning and he knew he wouldn't be able to stay down for much longer. At that point he almost lost his grip on the rope as the shadow moved close to him again, and Arthur saw long strands of dark hair brushing close to him. This time he forced himself to stay relaxed as he felt the hand on his wrist, it didn't pull, but rather guided his hand towards something.

The hand helped him along, leading him and then curling his fingers tightly around a smooth solid object. Arthur frowned as he felt a sense of familiarity stirring. Whatever he had hold of, it was most certainly his. As he took a firm grip the item drifted towards him, and the water buffeted around him encouraging him upwards. Arthur kept the hard object tightly held in one hand and let himself float upwards, letting the rope glide through his fingers.

He broke through the surface of the water, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Looking up he saw Merlin sprawled on the edge of the rocks holding the fishing rod tightly making sure it stayed wedged in the gap. Boris lingered by his side his neck stretched down towards the water and his sharp claws clasping tightly to the rocks and wings spread for balance. As Arthur splashed the wyvern's head retracted slightly, nostrils flaring nervously and Arthur guessed that wyverns didn't like water.

He stopped debating that and yelped as someone grabbed him, it soon turned into a spluttering cough and he almost sank again in panic until Uther's voice spoke directly into his ear.

"Calm down I've got you."

Arthur still spluttered a little as someone drifted into the corner of his vision on the left side. Leon swam into view and looked around.

"Perhaps we are better off going up that way rather than trying to swim back," he said looking annoying composed as far as Arthur was concerned.

"We may need some help then," Uther said sounding at least a little irritated and as if his teeth were chattering. Arthur's were starting to do the same. He tightened his grip on the fishing line.

"We can use this," Arthur managed to stammer. Now he had stopped moving the cold of the water seemed to be settling into his body with greater intensity.

"That could give at any time."

"I don't think so," said Merlin, then he looked up and relaxed at whatever he seemed to see. "Have you got rope? Be careful as you come over there, it crumbles a bit."

Arthur wondered who he was talking to until Percival appeared, standing over Merlin. Percival started to unwind a length of rope and he dropped it over the side of the bank.

"You first Arthur," Uther ordered to nobody's surprise. Arthur released the fishing line in favour of the thicker rope that Percival held, then he lifted his other hand, blinking as he looked at the sword he held in his hand.

"I'm not sure I can do it one handed."

"I'll pull you," Percival said. Arthur grimaced a little but wound the rope around his free arm and took a firm grip. "Use the side to walk up so you don't get scraped."

He took Percival's advice, blinking again as the man hoisted him from the water with what seemed a minimum amount of effort. He used the uneven side of the causeway to plant his feet and a few second's later found out why Percival was doing so well, Gwaine stood directly behind him adding weight to it, and when Arthur came into range Merlin took his arm, and then tried to take the sword off him, ducking as Arthur tried to use his forearm to steady himself on the edge.

"Give me that and use your hand," Merlin snapped at him.

His fingers felt so numb that Merlin had to prise them away from the hilt and he took possession of the sword as Gwaine dropped the slack of the rope and went to hoist Arthur the rest of the way. Boris beat him to it, easing forward the wyvern stretched it's neck out and stuck it's nose under Arthur's backside to help hoist him upwards, and Gwaine merely pulled him the rest of the way. He sprawled on the causeway dripping wet and shivering. Percival and Gwaine concentrated on hoisting both Leon and Uther from the water.

By that point the rest of them had struggled down the rest of the way.

"We need a fire," Morgana said. "Somewhere quite sheltered so we can dry these three off."

"There's a wall there," Merlin said.

"Fire, your speciality, get to it," Morgana ordered. "I'll help Lancelot and Gwen move the camp. Percival you lend a hand, you can carry stuff."

"What am I a pack horse?" he asked, but still obediently followed her as she headed off the causeway.

Merlin turned to Gwaine. "Let's get these three to shelter."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Soon enough Arthur felt warm, huddled into the leeward side of a broken down wall. Merlin had started the warming process by heating several stones he had piled together and they glowed with heat while he went to gather some wood to build a fire. All three of them were forced to strip out of their clothes, which Arthur didn't find all that embarrassing, unlike Leon who made a meal of it as he carefully tried to keep himself as concealed as possible.

Boris ended up assisting Arthur's modesty, staying as close to him as possible, and curling around him so Arthur could rest his back against the beast and the wyvern's warm breath huffed against his leg, shoulder and side as he sniffed Arthur up and down.

"Leon, just get undressed," Uther had eventually snapped.

"You think it would be me who would find it an issue," Arthur mused, speaking clearly now his teeth had finally stopped chattering. Boris huffed and rubbed his nose against Arthur's shin.

"I don't like being naked in front of other people," Leon moaned as he wrapped himself up in a sleeping bag and tried to wriggle his underwear off.

"So you have sex in the pitch black then?" Gwaine asked. Leon glared at him and shifted the material around him.

"Leave him alone," Arthur announced, although he sounded tired and bored, his voice also carried a level of authority that made Gwaine regard him with surprise and back off saying something about going to help Merlin.

Arthur settled down and looked at the sword that lay by his side. It had to have been in the water for a while, surely. Arthur didn't know. What he could see was the bright blade and the leather on the hilt looked to be in perfect condition. He traced his fingertips over it and decided to ask Lancelot what he thought. It looked too good for something that had been sat in a lake.

"I always thought that was completely untrue."

Uther's tone was low but steady. Arthur looked up and stared at him.

"The sword?"

"Excalibur. There are two stories, that it was pulled out of stone, by Arthur, therefore proving that he was the king of Albion. The other was that it was given to him by the Lady of the Lake. Brought from the depths of lake of Avalon. It seemed strange, there were two stories, but Arthur could only be given the sword once."

"Except for the fact that I am the Once And Future King," Arthur said. "Maybe the first time there was the stone, this time the lake. There was someone with me, in the lake, I'm sure of it. And the old man..."

He paused and gazed off into space, looking confused for a moment. His eyes snapped back to reality as Merlin reappeared carrying a bundle of firewood. Gwaine followed, two steps behind him, carefully putting the wood to one side as Merlin instructed. Merlin crouched down and setting his wood down started to build a fire.

"It was you! That old man was you!"

Merlin's head jerked up. "What?"

"I swear to God. I knew him! Merlin, it was you!"

"It wasn't, I was following you, then you went down a ditch and suddenly I couldn't see you anywhere, Boris kept scrabbling up the stones and couldn't seem to get anywhere, then he sat down and just waited!"

"Merlin, this time I am not going nuts, I saw you, it was you. We are meant to be here. You wanted me here. Morgana, Percival, Lancelot, have a look around the island, see what you can find and just make sure it's safe."

"Arthur?" Uther sounded concerned.

"We are safe here, completely safe, but we are here for a reason, both sides want me here and I want to know why. See what you can find."

"And if there is nothing?" Morgana asked.

"I think it will come to me."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Arthur stirred restlessly. There was a sound in his head but it seemed like nothing in particular. Something had just caught at the back of his mind and he woke up. He was warm enough now, wrapped in a sleeping bag and sharing a tent with his father. Uther's low steady breathing told Arthur that what had woken him meant nothing to others. Unzipping the sleeping bag Arthur knelt up and reached for his trousers and jumper. He already wore thermal underwear but he added a layer and then picked up his coat.

Getting out of the tent he stood up and put the coat on and scrabbled for his boots. His hat and gloves had been stored in the pockets of his thick coat and he pulled them out and put them on. Then he stood there and looked around. Every part of his clothing was dry thanks to Merlin. It was all he had now, everything else he carried had been lost to the depths of the lake and although the waste pricked at Arthur's conscience he didn't feel it wrong to be here with nothing, other then himself, and the people around him, all of whom were sleeping deeply.

Lancelot sat with his chin in his hand, eyes closed and Percival lay back. Arthur had lost track of time, and he didn't know which of them was meant to be on watch. Looking up at the stars he didn't think it mattered, the ink black sky, glittering with stars, looked peaceful and the island didn't seem to be bothered by even so much as a breeze.

Arthur sighed, putting his hand up to make sure. The air seemed unnaturally still, and it was not natural, but nor was it threatening. Arthur fiddled with his gloves, but he didn't even feel cold as he set off, turning to the left he skirted around the camp and trudged off towards the centre of the island.

The others had explored but nothing had been found, but Arthur remembered the old man's words. You had to be looking, or at least he had expected different people to see different things. Arthur paused as he heard a huff from behind him.

"Hey Boris, are you going to help me then? What are we looking for? I'm guessing that old fart Merlin told you to come and find me."

Arthur crouched and Boris trotted forward, putting his head under Arthur's outstretched hand. The wyvern huffed, tilting his head to get Arthur to stroke him where he wanted. In the end Arthur gave up and headed further into the island, skirting a wall until a sound suddenly made him pause and glance behind him.

"Better an old fart than a prat."

Arthur turned and looked at the old man sat on the edge of the wall in a low section that had clearly crumbled away. Boris snorted prancing forward and inclining his neck upwards to sniff at the old man's foot. He seemed to find what he was looking for as his tail started to wag and he dropped onto his haunches, looking up intently.

"That depends if you are about to disappear on me, at the wrong moment."

The old man smiled, his head tilting to one side as he regarded Arthur with affection.

"I missed you."

"How can you do that? You're there, all tucked up with Gwaine. Although..."

Arthur looked around, wondering at the stillness in the night.

"There are places, pockets of magic, and time. I laid them carefully, with some help," Merlin explained.

Arthur turned and looked at him, moving closer and he crouched down to put his arm around Boris' neck.

"You sent the wyvern."

"He was here anyway. He likes you."

"And you're not really here, or I'm not with them..." Arthur said looking around. "It's too quiet, there's nothing moving. You're not here."

The old man shrugged and smiled, eyes brightening up as he grinned and again Arthur knew, he looked too much like Merlin to be anyone else.

"I'm here, so are you... just a little step away from reality. There are shadows in the world, places that you can pass through and I waited for so long, for you and when you came I had to start all over again."

"I don't understand."

"You couldn't be expected to. I had to work hard, leave so many hints to be found. Not by you but all the others."

"The stories, the picture," Arthur's hand automatically went to the pocket of his combat trousers. He fumbled in and pulled out the ragged remains of the sheet of paper. "That was your fault."

Merlin chuckled. "And there was me thinking you weren't the dollop-head I once knew. Although you are much improved from then."

"Thanks, I think. What the hell is a dollop-head?"

"In two words?" The old man asked and then without waiting for a reply said. "King Arthur."

"At least I don't go around dumping people into cold water. I thought the Lady Of The Lake was supposed to hand me the sword."

The old man looked irritated and wistful. "She did. It's the most I have seen of her for years."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Arthur wrapped his arm tighter around Boris' neck. "It looks like she meant something to you."

"She did. I lost her."

"I'm sorry. She doesn't seem to want to be lost."

"There are those that need to bridge the worlds, she has done so before and did so to bring you the sword, you will need it soon."

Arthur bit down on his lip. "It's here then, almost now, when I have to do this thing; whatever it is I do."

"As soon as you were found there would be nothing else. You are so young, your soul laid to rest here and I waited, thinking that every time I saw one of them, or sensed them, that it was your time. It was only when I became so old I knew."

Arthur frowned, slowly releasing Boris and sitting back on his heels.

"You knew what. Merlin, what? Tell me."

The old man chortled with laughter. "You could never be told anything, Arthur Pendragon. Only be guided. You were always so stubborn. Although I was never any better."

Arthur frowned but said nothing. Merlin's gnarled hand reached out to him and Arthur responded, putting his hand into Merlin's and he let it be held gently.

"I lived, I never died, I waited for you to return and when you did, I knew I only had so long. I could not be as I am now. I spent years leaving messages, hints for those that could see me, those that came back, in time, always over again, but never you. You are young, a young soul, and more innocent than any other, unique in birth and only twice have you been brought into the world. Once and Future.

"And on the contrary, I have lived long, through ages to see you return, and I could not be as I am when you came back. You and me, Arthur. It was always that. Those around us, not inconsequential by any means, had no meaning without us. I used them, I saw them, and laid the pathway to here, but others used it to. They are coming, but do not fear. This time I'm ready for them."

"You're the guardian, you built this."

"I built it all, my lad. All for you."

"What do I do?"

"All you need, is there for you to find. Everything is here for you, all you need to do is stay strong."

"I don't think I am much when it comes to that."

"You don't think you are strong? Then you do yourself a great disservice."

"I know I've been through a lot and survived fairly intact, I've heard all that from my dad."

The old man chuckled again. "He is far better this time round. Although some things never change. He thinks he can tell everyone what to do, he thinks he's always right and he loved your mother, more than anything."

Arthur went still. He had said that so casually, as if it was a fact that could never be denied. Looking down he stared at the top of Boris' head now resting on his thigh.

"I'm not sure of that. Why did she run from him? Or not at least tell him where to find me?"

"If she had, would you be who you are today?" Merlin asked.

"I wouldn't be a whore would I?"

Merlin frowned down at him. "Everyone seems rather overly focused on that, including you. You survived a bad situation, do you think you managed it poorly?"

"I never really thought about it," Arthur said. "I just got on with it. There didn't seem to be anything else that I could do."

Merlin shrugged. "Possibly not, some people may disagree. You took the path that seemed open to you. It can be interpreted that you chose it."

"Nobody would choose anything like that," Arthur argued.

"Would you choose to be a mythical king upon whose shoulders can rest the fate of the world?"

"Possibly not," Arthur said, unable to repress the smirk that stole across his face. "But I'm guessing the fate of the world might be an exaggeration."

Merlin returned the smirk. "Possibly. However, that doesn't stop this from being important. Magic is a dangerous thing if left without any control. Morgana has the power to be a high priestess, and I'm... well, I'm me, and fairly interesting with it."

"Modest too," Arthur said in a serious tone. Merlin gave him a mock glare.

"That's rich coming from you, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't that bad was I?"

"Not really, I got the worst of it out of you, and Gwen polished you up a bit."

"I don't get it though. It seemed like some of them wanted me dead, they knew where I was but didn't do anything about it. Do I need to be alive at the end of this or not?"

Merlin sighed, biting down on his lip. Despite the grey hair and wrinkles Arthur could really see Merlin in the face. It would be how the other Merlin would look when he got old.

"It's hard to explain, so I may not bother. When you created Camelot as it was, the first time round, that was your destiny, to bring Albion together. It was something new, and those who clung to the old ways feared what it would be. Others embraced it. There was a balance. You read about the Great Purge?"

Arthur nodded, he gave up kneeling as his legs were starting to ache and he settled down on his backside, crossing his legs, looking up at Merlin as he talked.

"Before that, my old tutor, Gaius, told me is was not all good."

"Was he grumpy then?"

Merlin looked to ponder that. "Yes, generally. Anyway, he said that the natural order was in danger, so much magic had been used; overused in fact. Magic needs the energy around it to be created, so it was drawn from the world, and slowly corrupted it. The purge restored that, but the old religion could not be subdued that easily."

"People even now believe in magic, and worship the old gods."

"And goddesses," Merlin added. "There was no need for it to ever die out but it could never hold the sway it used to. The magic never disappeared, it's energy still existed, but it ceased to be drawn from the world."

"And it sort of faded away into the background?"

"I suppose, but it could never stay like that."

"You didn't answer my original question."

"Do you need to be alive? This is again about balance. One battle can tip the scales. Last time your death did ensure that harmony and Camelot remained. This time, when the battle is fought the balance of the world can tip. If you survive then what is new remains, if you fall chaos will win."

"I thought you said this wasn't an end of the world scenario?"

"It is not. Magic cannot destroy this world, nor what is in it. But those with dark magic will hold sway. It will not corrupt immediately but you will not be there to hold the balance. The fight is not an obvious one, if you win you will not be hailed as the king of Albion by those within the kingdom."

"Damn; I was hoping for a palace," Arthur said.

"Unfortunately, what you will receive is more of a responsibility than a reward. You will always be King Arthur, of Camelot, and of Albion. It's just that this time, very few people will know it, consciously anyway."

"And I was born through magic? Did you know where I was?"

"When you were created, I sensed it. I felt your soul flickering into being. It was what I had lived for over all those years."

"But my mother nearly..."

"I don't believe she ever would. She had to wait for you to be born to do so, and I think for a moment she wavered. I saw her, just the once."

"When?"

"You were only hours old. She stood by the nursery staring at you in your cot, so intently. For a moment I thought she might, but in the end she loved you too much."

"You were there?"

"For a while. You were quite a pretty little baby."

"Thanks. Couldn't you have done something, to save her?"

Merlin shook his head, looking melancholy. "No, I could feel the magic, and the connection between you two. I was tempted, very tempted, to just pick you up and take you out of harms way, but if I did that there could be more harm than good done."

Arthur frowned rubbing one of Boris' horn. The wyvern grunted and settled down next to Arthur.

"Igraine had to make sure the curse remained with her, and not you."

"I watched her die," Arthur said accusingly. "For years."

"Then don't let it be in vain."

"Couldn't you have helped her? Or me?"

"Only one of you could live, and by the time she died, I had already gone into new life, the portents were right for my rebirth. If I had know what would happen I'm not even sure I would have done any different. Whatever else you are Arthur Pendragon, you are courageous and whatever happens to you, your instinct is, quite astoundingly, always unselfish."

Arthur blinked and then turned as he heard sounds. He looked round. Boris rose to his feet, grunting in concern. Then turning back Arthur felt no surprise.

The old man had gone, his part in events was finally over.