Stepping up my posting schedule so this is up before I leave for holiday. Last chapter will be posted tomorrow evening.

Chapter 5: Double Trouble

She reminds herself firmly that this is an alternate dimension. She's seen a Jackie who wasn't her mum. A Pete who wasn't her dad. He can't be Jack, but that doesn't stop her heart from leaping into her throat, the catch in her breath or the tears from springing to her eyes. God, it's been so long since she's seen him. A lifetime.

And he's...

He's talking to her. She shakes herself out of her fugue and listens. "My Lady Nimue?" he asks in a courtly tone that she's never heard from him before.

She finds herself nodding, though that isn't her name. She can't convince her heart that it isn't him, though her mind knows differently. "Jack?" She repeats her earlier question, though she knows it isn't true.

"I am sorry, milady," he says softly and his expression is apologetic. "My name is Lancelot. I am honoured, though, that you mistake me for a figure that Merlin has mentioned often and with great admiration."

Lancelot? She wants to shake her head, laugh in denial, do anything other than accept that her heart has lied. She does none of those things, instead letting vague recollections of Arthurian legend return to her mind. If the Doctor's Merlin, and she was captured by Morgaine, it only follows that King Arthur and his knights exist here as well. The only knight that she can recall any stories of is Lancelot, but not all of them are complimentary.

Then again, he feels like Jack to her. That has to count for something. And he obviously doesn't belong here...

Mab grips her arm, tearing her attention away from Jack – Lancelot , she corrects herself firmly. "Mistress, the guards..."

She can hear someone coming down the corridor behind them. A quick glance at Lancelot and he grips both her arm and Mab's, dragging them behind him. "Keep quiet," he says, drawing his sword.

Oh, she might keep quiet, but that doesn't mean she's going to stand and wait for Lancelot to save the day. She scans the hallway quickly, looking for anything that might be useful as a weapon. The only thing that she can see that would be easy to lift and have a chance at keeping someone at bay is a heavy-looking candelabra that rests on one of the tables that line the corridor.

Hefting the object is no small feat, but she thinks that she can swing it with enough force to be somewhat effective as Lancelot's backup.

The sound of footsteps is drawing nearer. It's hard to guess how many might be coming this way thanks to the castle's echoing halls, but she suspects that there are at least two guards – if not three. She can see Lancelot's back tense as he readies to launch himself at the guards.

"Thought I heard something, Will," someone says quietly and she can hear the whisper-soft slide of a sword being withdrawn from its sheath.

"You're always hearing something, Uthan. It is probably Cook's inability to make a decent gruel that is vexing you," another – Will, she assumes – responds.

"No. It sounded like whispers. Maybe the sound of another sword being drawn. Something other than my stomach." Uthan's voice is urgent and her hands tighten around her makeshift weapon. She doesn't want to use it, but she will if necessary.

"Where, then?" Will asks.

"Behind us. Back along the corridor where the queen is keeping her current guest..." Uthan says and she knows what's about to come.

Will laughs. "Oh-ho. One look wasn't enough for you, was it, my friend? You wish to determine just what the wizard finds so bewitching about his consort?"

She feels a flush rising to her cheeks and she flexes her hands against the candelabra. She knows what Will is implying and she thanks everything she holds dear that she's escaped from that room.

Uthan's voice drops to a horrified whisper. "The queen would..."

"The queen isn't here," Will points out. "No-one could begrudge us a look."

The men's voices drop to a murmur that's punctuated by faint laughter and a few choice comments that she's rather certain apply to her in unflattering ways. Then she hears the footsteps begin to recede, but she restrains herself from going after them. That'd be unproductive and stupid. It just adds another deadline for her current predicament. Once the guards find that she's gone...

She blinks and realises that Lancelot has taken a few steps after them. "Ja- Lancelot," she says softly. "Stop."

"They dishonour you, milady," he says, looking back at her. "I must teach those curs to speak of you with…"

"'S not worth it," she insists. "Please, I need to get to the Doctor. They'll find out that I'm missing an' rouse the castle. Please…" She knows that it'll be that much easier with Lancelot along and she doubts that Arthur – who she assumes must exist in the same manner that 'Merlin' and 'Lancelot' exist – would be appreciative should she arrive without him in tow.

He doesn't look happy, but he nods. "As you wish. We must be swift if we are to find Merlin and the others ere they reach his magic cabinet."

Mab pushes her way forward, surprising her with an abruptness that seems uncharacteristic for the girl. "This way, quickly."

She's astonished by how quietly Lancelot can move, despite his armour. He catches her surprised glance and gives her a smile that's so reminiscent of Jack that it almost brings tears to her eyes again. Smiling back at him for a moment, she returns her attention to Mab.

The girl leads them down more halls, through rooms, and yet more halls until they reach what she assumes are the kitchens. Mab looks at them both warily before nodding towards the room. "The cooks will say nothing if we do not disturb their work. There is a side entrance to the kitchens that leads outside. Go straight through. The entrance is in the far left corner of the room."

"You're not coming with us?" she asks.

Mab shakes her head. "No. Please, go swiftly."

She gives the upset girl a hug and whispers, "Thanks for everything." She knows what dangers the girl has gone through to release her. She can only hope that Mab stays safe. "Be careful." And then she steps away, looking towards the kitchens.

"You have done us great service, milady Mab," Lancelot says and bestows a kiss on the girl's hand.

A few startled looks, an unexpected dusting of flour and at least one frightened scullery maid later, they're outside. It's deceptively simple to escape the rest of the castle, despite the guards. Now all they have to do is find the Doctor.

She looks at the forest that is barely visible in the flickering torchlight from the castle walls and sighs. It's dangerous, she knows, to walk into a forest at night but they have little choice. She needs to find the Doctor and the only way to do that is to risk travelling in the darkness.

At her side, Lancelot glances down at her. "Ready, milady?"

"Rose," she corrects him. "An' yeah. Let's find the Doctor."

As they march towards the almost ominous forest, she can only hope that they can find him in time.

He lies on his back, watching the stars through the sheltering leaves of the trees overhead. The fire has died down now, leaving only the faint glow of embers to drive back the darkness. And it is dark. He can hear the soft sounds of the horses as they shift in their sleep, the sound of the knights as they murmur in their slumber, and the soft speech of those posted on guard duty.

He lets his senses roam, feeling the turn of the planet beneath him and sensing the heartbeats of those who surround him. If he lets down his guard, even a fraction, he knows that he'll be able to sense her. Morgaine is close, he knows. Far, far too close for comfort.

It makes him wonder, really, just what originated this particular feud. An argument over cold tea? A falling out over something or other? She didn't like his Chucks? He sighs and mentally curses his past self for not investigating things a little more thoroughly. Admittedly, he knows that he couldn't. Web of Time would fall apart, blah, blah, blah. Time's Champion would be a bit of a misnomer for someone who foolishly destroys it.

A sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eyes against the stars. It's somewhat disgruntling to realise that he knows next to nothing about this world beyond what little his past self was able to infer from his brief encounter with Morgaine and Ancelyn. At least he'll be back at the TARDIS tomorrow.

He's looking forward to denying the future for a short while to come. The implication he realised from discussions with Arthur is that Rose, or rather Nimue, isn't with him any more. Oh, he knows that she'll leave eventually. Every companion does. But a foolish part of him wishes to hold onto her for as long as possible. If that means not being Merlin for a few more years – preferably centuries – so be it.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds that his earlier view of the stars is blocked by someone leaning over him. "Yeah?" he asks, causing the person to startle enough that he can see her face.

It's Rose.

"I had to…jus' see…" She stammers, searching for something to say, and he knows that she wasn't expecting to be caught in her frank observation of him. "I..."

"Rose?" he prompts and is surprised when she ducks her head and kisses him.

As kisses go, and he's only really had two in this body to compare to, this is rough and demanding. Not exactly pleasant, but not entirely unpleasant either. However, he doesn't react. Lets his lips remain unmoving beneath her own until she pulls away.

"Doctor," she breathes, tracing his face with just her fingertips. "Why don't you kiss me?"

There are dozens of responses that he could use. A dozen more that would reveal far too much. "I-" he begins, but is cut off again by another demanding kiss, this one taking advantage of his parted lips. He can't prevent himself from reacting, even a little, though he tries not to encourage her.

She draws back again and stares at him, her eyes glowing faintly in the reflected firelight. "I know that you want to."

"But you don't," he replies reasonably, tilting his head back until he's able to see a glimmer of the sky around her head.

Rose sighs and lifts herself away from him. "You don't know what you're missing," she says and he wants to correct her. Of course he does. She just isn't...

Right. Enough of that line of thought. "Why now?" he asks.

"Thought it was time," she replies with a shrug. "And you don't know what I want."

"Don't I?" He knows far, far better than she does. That much is obvious.

"No," she says and descends a third time before he can move away. Her hands are braced around his face, holding him in place as she thoroughly kisses him. He tries to break away, but he can't.

"Oi! Get the hell off him, you bloody bitch!" Rose – he identifies – shouts and moments later, the woman above him is forcefully yanked away.

He scrambles to his feet in time to see Rose – well, two Roses – circling each other. The knights, aroused by the activity, surround them but keep back. It's hard to tell which is which thanks to the fact that each is wearing the same clothes. Each has the same expression of intense anger on their faces. And each looks as if they're about to strike the other.

"Rose!" he says and both women turn towards him.

"That's not me, Doctor," the one on the right says.

"Liar! That's not me!" the other replies.

"Oh," he says, "I know. Known for a while, actually. Was just waiting for the right moment to say 'hey, Morgaine, what did you do with Rose?' But, obviously, I don't have to since you're here. Bit difficult with the whole evil doppelganger thing going, but I can manage." He looks at the two of them carefully, cataloguing every nuance of their response to his scrutiny.

"Then what're you going to do with the Rose that isn't me?" one of them asks. "Kill her?"

A slow smile crosses his face as he moves to stand in front of that one who spoke. "Oh, no, that'd be falling down to Morgaine's level."

"Oh, right," she replies, almost as if she doesn't exactly believe him. Well, of course she doesn't. Can't see the truth right in front of her eyes. But that is only to be expected.

"You see," he says and holds out his hand, waggling his fingers at the other Rose. "There's a sure-fire way of knowing who's who. And do you know what that is?"

"No," she says, staring at his extended hand – one that Rose, the other Rose, grasps immediately.

"Oh, it's terribly simple. You see, Morgaine – don't mind if I call you that, do you? You see Rose Tyler, my Rose Tyler, would never suggest killing as an option. Nor would she think that Trelixian cats were anything other than harmless." He smiles brightly. "Really, next time you try to do some research, try harder. It's a bit embarrassing, really. Was expecting more of a challenge."

The false Rose's expression changed from anger to pure hatred, altering the familiar face into that of a stranger. A stranger who suddenly erupts into fiery red light. He takes a step back, registering that the others do the same.

When the light dies, Morgaine stands before him and he realises that, despite the centuries between his last encounter with her, she hasn't changed. Same red hair, same crown, same golden armour and same haughty look in her eyes. "Clever, Merlin, very clever. But I could always best you in chess."

"Oh, wouldn't say that," he replies with a wide grin. "Besides, poker's always been my favoured game. Well, at least in this regeneration."

"You are an oath breaker," Morgaine accuses.

"Nope," he corrects, still smiling. "Never actually promised anything. You just chose to take my words to mean what you desired. Nothing more, nothing less."

She points at him and he suspects that, were she truly trying, he'd have a hole right about where his second heart rests. "That is a..." She pauses and seems to reconsider. He knows the moment she realises that he hasn't promised to leave when she seems to erupt in anger once again. "Enough! You may have bested me through trickery, Merlin, but remember that that is the only manner in which you may prevail."

Morgaine pauses, considering the knights that surround her, lingering for a long moment upon Arthur before returning her attention to him. "I will withdraw, but this is not the end. If anything, I leave you to a fate far worse than exile."

He frowns, not liking the implication of her words. "What do you mean?"

Her lips turn upwards into a cruel smile. "That, my dear Merlin, is the future that has yet to be written for you. Were you not the one who cautioned against my desire to change the past? Your future has already been written. Enjoy your fate, Nimue, Merlin."

A moment, and another burst of red fire, later, Morgaine is gone. In her wake, the others murmur nervously to each other and he is caught in a moment of fear. What could she mean? What could she know? True, it's a future version of himself – in this regeneration - that becomes Merlin, but what could a 'fate worse than exile' be?

"Doctor?" Rose interrupts his thoughts before he can be dragged further into melancholy. He tells himself firmly that he's a new man. Brooding and worrying was far better suited to his leather-clad previous self. Once again, she's saved him from himself.

He turns to her, smile widening into a grin as he tugs her into his arms. "Welcome back," he whispers into her hair, holding her tightly.

"Miss me?" she asks, her words catching a little in her throat. He knows what she's implying. Did he know that it wasn't her? Was he taken in by Morgaine's doppelganger?

"More than you know," he replies, releasing her only enough to look into her eyes. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "'M fine. Jus' got a bit roughed up by the blokes that kidnapped me, but that's it. Was treated well at the castle, though Morgaine…" Her lips twist into a grimace of distaste. "She wasn't nice. But she wouldn't be, would she?"

He blinks a little in shock. "What do you mean? She does fit the classic villain stereotype, though I doubt she has sharks with laser beams on their… Oh, wait, that's Austin Powers."

She laughs softly. "No, I mean she's been angry an' has hated for so long that she doesn't know how to do anything else. That'd make anyone be cruel to others."

He opens his mouth and closes it again a moment later. She's right, though. That's all part of the classic stereotype, but a facet that he rarely considered. "Yeah," he replies, pressing a swift kiss against her forehead as an expression of his pride in her. "That's it exactly."

"Merlin, I am sorry to interrupt," Arthur says. "However, we must be prepared for sunrise. I doubt that Morgaine will let us depart her lands without some sort of a fight."

He wants to protest that she will, but he yields to the other man's greater knowledge of the woman's tactics. Casting a glance at the sky, he can already see a faint brightness surrounding the edges of the view. Dawn is swiftly approaching. "Is there anything that we can do to help? Oh, wait, sorry. Forgot to do something. King Arthur, I would like to introduce you to Rose Tyler. Rose, this is Arthur, King of Britannia." He releases his hold on her so she can curtsey in response to the introduction.

"Pleasure to meet you, my lord," she says.

"The pleasure is all mine, my Lady Rose," Arthur says warmly as he takes her hand and presses a kiss against it.

She blushes slightly as she withdraws her hand. A moment later, he introduces the rest of the knights, who repeat Arthur's gesture. When they reach Lancelot, Rose shakes her head. "We've already met."

He can only watch as she walks up to the other man and presses a kiss against Lancelot's cheek. "Thank you for rescuing me," she says and Lancelot seems stunned as he lifts a hand to touch his cheek.

He thinks of scolding her for her unladylike manners, but he doesn't. He can't say he blames her. When she returns to his side, he smiles at Lancelot. "Thanks from me, too."

The knight waves off his thanks. "I have owed you many favours over the years, my friend. Consider this to be but the smallest repayment."

A short while later, after putting out the fire and ordering their belongings, they resume their journey to the TARDIS with one important difference. This time, Rose – the real Rose – is within touching distance.

"So, what happened?" he asks as they walk, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing the others.

"Wha'? In the castle?" Rose asks and then shrugs. "You mean besides me bemoanin' the lack of proper loos? Morgaine came into my cell a few times to taunt me. At least once tried a bit of Spock – suppose that's how she managed to both look and somewhat act like me…"

"She didn't act like you at all," he corrects her. "She was rather obvious about it."

She smiles at him and continues, "Then I escaped with a serving girl's help, ran into Jac – er, Lancelot – an' you know the rest."

He should've guessed that she'd rescue herself first. He is about to make some comment of that nature when Arthur joins them. "Merlin, there is something of great import that you entrusted me to tell you when the time came."

"Oh?" he asks.

"You're still here. My Merlin, that is. Back at Camelot, watching over my kingdom whilst I am away," Arthur says and the Doctor almost stumbles in shock.

He's still here? Two of him, the present him, are on the same planet? Oh, hell. His expression turns grim. "Oh, that's not good."

"Doctor?" Rose looks at him, concerned.

"Bit different with Time Lords. Can meet my past selves no problem. It's when it's the same me that Blinovitch has a field day."

"Blino-what? Is that like Reapers?" she asks, her voice heavy with trepidation.

"Oh, worse than that. End of the world and all that nonsense. Big explosions, nasty stuff. We've got to get back to the TARDIS. Now." The sky is beginning to brighten noticeably now with the first rays of sunlight. He should be able to see enough to find his ship before things went pear-shaped.

"Your magic cabinet should be at least two furlongs directly ahead," Arthur says. "You should reach it ere the sun reaches a finger's length over the horizon."

"Brilliant," he says. "Really, we must dash. Wonderful to meet you for the first time for the second time, King Arthur. No, wait, that's i Spaceballs /i . Oh, never mind. Can't linger much longer. Rose?"

"Yeah?"

He holds out his hand and grins. Not enough time to do a proper goodbye, but he's never been a big fan of prolonged farewells. "Run.

She has to keep her eyes on the ground to try and stop herself from stumbling on any debris. The forest floor is covered in broken branches, hidden holes and acorns. Dozens of objects that could cause her to take a nasty fall should she not be careful. Though the shadows are starting to fade, it's all she can do to see what's beneath her feet as they run through the forest.

She's almost fallen a dozen times, but the Doctor's urgency is catching. Each time she stumbles, she finds her feet almost immediately and resumes their race against time. She still can't believe that Morgaine has let them go without much fuss. Each time they pause, even for a moment, she fears that Morgaine's men will be there once again. To either kidnap her or kill either or both of them. Perhaps the queen knows about Blino-whatsit. Knows that they have to leave? Maybe that's what protects them.

She shakes her head, dismissing the thoughts as useless. However, in between breaths, she lets the previous events at the campsite replay in her mind. The Doctor, prone, on the ground. Herself – no, Morgaine – braced above him. Snogging him. Bit different this go-around. This time she wasn't even a participant of sorts. She'd been relegated to mere observer status and the memory burns.

She doesn't understand. He's so free with kissing her forehead, with bestowing an affectionate hug or a squeeze of the hand. Anything further, though, and he seems to run. Unless, of course, it isn't really her.

First time it was Cassandra. Now it's Morgaine.

By the time they reach the TARDIS, she wants to ask him why, though she knows it isn't the time. They've got to leave this place. But, as soon as they're in the Vortex, she will ask.

As soon as the door slams shut behind her, he slows his frantic headlong pace to a walk as he moves to the centre console. He blinks in surprise when he looks at it, though she can't tell what the problem is from her position by the door. "What?"

"Thought I'd have to repair something," he says, still apparently shocked. "But she's fine. Better than fine, really. Can't say she's better than new, though, but definitely better than she's been for a long while. Looks like we can leave at any time."

"Then shouldn't we?" she asks. "Blino-whatever it was an' all that?"

"Oh, that only applies outside the TARDIS. Well, it still applies but in here we're slightly out of phase with the exterior. Different dimensions and all that. So it's not a problem any more."

She tries to wrap her mind around that concept and only partially succeeds. "So we can stay here indefinitely?"

"Well, yes. But who'd want to? Bit boring, that." He's about to set coordinates for an unknown destination before she arrests his motion with her hand on his wrist. "Rose, it's hard to leave this universe when you're blocking me."

"If I ask you something, Doctor, will you answer it?" She's careful not to imply exactly what she's after.

"Since when have I – No, wait, don't answer that. If I do, will you let me go?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Then that's your answer," he replies.

She's not certain how best to put it, so she tries for the simplest. "I don't get it, Doctor. How come you snog me when it isn't me, but you don't when it is?"

To be concluded...