Author's notes: Sorry of the time in between chapters, but work has gone crazy. Thanks as usual goes to my beta extraordinaire and to all you wonderful readers. I did a lot of rewriting on this chapter, so any faults you stumble upon are mine. Enough with the chat. Onto what was originally part of chapter eleven. It's time to move things along and find out what really happened.

Chapter 12

To add to his irritation, Arthur found the interrogation room empty, so he ordered a guard to bring Mathylda up to his chambers. Merlin had been in his room, because his bed was made and there was a fresh meal waiting for him at his desk. Illusive as ever, his servant had gone again. It took him a while to get out of his armour on his own, irritation rising to whole new level. He refused to search the entire castle for his servant though. He got the impression that Merlin was avoiding him, which came as no surprise as Arthur was the one who had dumped him to be interrogated. Still, if his servant had been up to cleaning his room, he was okay.

After finishing the meal, he felt better and poked the table top with his knife in his need to do something, to find Morgana. Finally, Mathylda arrived looking red and flustered. She obviously wasn't used to getting summoned like this and glared at him as if he were the enemy. Which perhaps he was, yet he was too well versed in manners of the court to let it faze him. Besides, as crown prince, he was in his rights to summon her. He waited for the guard to leave before pointing his knife at her. "My father told me you are related to my Uncle."

She looked taken aback at his question but recovered quickly enough. "Your mother's brother. Lord Aggravaine, yes."

"How, exactly?"

"What's all this about, Sire?"

"I'm merely curious. I haven't seen my uncle in years."

"I am his niece. As you must know, Aggravaine never married, so he entrusted me with his household." She frowned. "There's no need to doubt my experience. I've run your uncle's estate for years."

Yes, she'd told him that already. "So my uncle has not asked for a lady's hand in marriage yet?" He wasn't surprised to hear this.

"There's no one that I know of that has his fancy, My Lord."

She didn't know? Arthur lowered his knife. Everyone who spent some time in his Uncle's household knew Aggravaine waited for one woman in particular. One that had stolen his heart from the moment he'd set eyes on her. She was the one reason why Aggravaine had continued to visit Camelot and had held his grudge toward his father for Ygraine's death at bay.

Morgana.

So either Mathylda had a highly developed sense of integrity, or she was lying about her ties to his uncle. Merlin was right, something was wrong. But as long as he didn't have proof, all he could do was push his authority. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, careful to keep a straight face.

"Will that be all, Sire?"

"Not exactly. Where's my servant?"

Before she could answer, the doors flew open and the king burst in. "Arthur!"

Arthur groaned, knowing why his father was here.

"Sir Leon told me you were unwell! Is this true?"

Of all time for his father to start showing his concern, now was one of the worst. The last thing he wanted was for Mathylda to perceive him as weak. To his utter dismay, Merlin chose that moment to walk in. Great. Now he would never hear the end of it. In an attempt to save what was left of his dignity, he waved a hand in dismissal. "He's exaggerating. I felt a bit… off. From hunger." Arthur nodded at the empty plate on the table. "I'm fine now."

Behind the king, Merlin glanced at him, obviously not buying a single word he said.

"I'm fine," Arthur repeated for good measure.

"According to Leon, you are not. I'm hereby relieving you of your duties."

Arthur struggled to keep calm. "There's no need, father. I can handle them."

"No you can't! I'm not going to risk your health over this. You've been pushing yourself ever since…" A storm of grief and determination battled behind his father's eyes as the king fell quiet. His once steadfast father was scared to lose him as well as Morgana. Arthur opened his mouth to say something but then the king's voice hardened. "You will do as I say."

Arthur clenched his teeth. When his father got like this there was no use arguing the point.

"Good. I'm sure Sir Leon can handle the Camelot's defences for a while."

"I'm sure he can," Arthur grudgingly admitted. Maybe he could use this situation to his advantage. "Then you won't mind me riding out to visit uncle Aggravaine?"

Merlin cocked his head, obviously seeing right through the casual façade. Arthur ignored him.

"There's still a sorcerer to be found, Arthur."

"Leon can handle it. You said so yourself." His father didn't comment. A sign that Arthur needed to convince him. He turned to Mathylda. "Why have you come here?"

"Because rumours had it Camelot was in need of my expertise."

"And my uncle just let you go?"

She lifted her chin. "I'm of noble birth, Sire. I can go where I please."

"Father, what I'm trying to say is that Aggravaine has heard rumours about Morgana's disappearance. We should, at the very least, grant him the courtesy of delivering the bad news ourselves." Not wanting to upset his grieving father any more than he had to, he dropped his guard. "I can look for Morgana on the way. Perhaps one man can achieve more than an entire patrol can."

His father looked thoughtful. "You may have a point. If this sorcerer we're looking for has already infiltrated our court like Tagan suspects, then it's probably best that you're away."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his father he wasn't a cowered, that he would never run away from a threat, but he put his pride aside. Visiting Aggravaine would give him the perfect excuse to check up on Mathylda.

His father walked up to him. "I cannot let you go unaided though."

"Father, the presence of more knights might scare off any potential leads to Morgana. Aggravaine's estate lies within the kingdom. It will be safe to travel on my own."

The king stared at him as if gouging the value of his words.

"There's none to spare, father. As long as the wall's not rebuild you will need all hands to defend Camelot."

A stiff nod was all he got, but it was enough.

"Sire?"

They turned to Mathylda.

"With respect, I have to insist that you leave your servant behind, My Lord."

Merlin opened his mouth to object, but Arthur caught his eye, cutting him off. His father would have his servant's hide if he spoke out of turn. "It's his job to serve me. He's coming along."

Not looking fazed in the slightest, Mathylda turned to his father to make her plea. "Sire, as long as we haven't found the sorcerer, Tagan has ordered house arrest for the entire male staff. We cannot make an exception for the boy. It would be careless and potentially dangerous. I will go in his stead."

Arthur stared at her. Was she actually suggesting she would take Merlin's place? Never in a million years had he seen that coming.

"Agreed."

"But, father-"

"I will hear no more of this, Arthur. The boy stays here. It's only because I know its safer for you to be away that I let you go at all!"

"But… I can't ask her to tend to my needs!" he said exasperated. What happened to his 'live-and-die-by-the-rule-and-tradition' father? "She's a lady of the court and… a woman."

Uther nodded at Mathylda. "One of our soldiers currently assigned to her and Tagan will accompany you, Arthur. Tagan can make do with one guard. Mathylda, it would be discourteous if I didn't offer you my ward's maid."

"No," Arthur said with more vehemence than he'd intended. He let out a breath, squashing the overwhelming feeling that taking Gwen with him would be wrong. Not that she would be in any danger. Also, he would be happy for the company. So why the knot in his stomach, the anxiety threatening to spill from his lips? "With Gaius away, she's needed to tend to the wounded."

Mathylda frowned. He ignored her. It was his father he needed to convince.

"None of the other maids can ride a horse, Arthur."

"You know I'll be nothing but courteous to the Lady Mathylda. I will guard her with my life." He took a step forward, noticed Merlin glancing at Mathylda and followed his gaze.

She'd straightened and now pinched her eyes, glaring at Arthur. "I can take care of myself, My lords."

He suppressed a smile at her obstinacy. She really held no love for him, but if she agreed, then who was he to argue. "Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to sound condescending."

"Sending off a Lady with solely men for company is highly unprecedented," his father intervened. Arthur knew he was about to draw a firm line when Mathylda stepped in.

"Your concern is noted my King, but a maid is not needed," she spoke with a sweet but confident tone to her voice. "I am certain you have absolute trust in your son."

His father fell silent, gouging her as he would any woman he found suddenly worthy of his respect. "Arthur, she'll be your responsibility."

"No harm will come to her." Behind Mathylda, Merlin shook his head. Was he warning him? For what? Annoyed, not to mention still feeling anxious and tense, he took in a sharp breath. Maybe distancing himself from his servant wasn't such a bad idea. That way he could clear his head without having Merlin's inane prattle add to his nerves.

Also, he wasn't completely thick headed. Merlin looked like hell, he could use a break. If he was not able take his servant away from Mathylda, then taking her away from the citadel might be the next best thing. He nodded his assent, was well aware of Merlin looking away, his servant's expression battling between anger and defeat. Prepared to do what was needed to keep both Camelot and Merlin safe, Arthur hardened his heart. "We'll leave as soon as the horses are prepared."

"Arthur, what are you doing?" Merlin hadn't moved from his spot after Uther and Mathylda had left.

Standing with his back towards him, hands on his hips, his friend dipped his chin to his chest, then shook his head. "I'll be back in a couple of days."

Merlin did not even pretend to pack his friend's belongings. "She's dangerous. You shouldn't go off alone with her!"

Arthur turned, sounding more annoyed than ever. "I think I can take her in a fight, Merlin."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Then what do you mean?" Arthur blocked his objections with an anger that froze the air between them. "Where the hell have you been, anyway? What good's having a servant when you're never there!"

Perhaps it was because his shoulder hurt, or that he was tired and felt nauseous as hell that Arthur shouts rocked him to the core. He had to fight to take the sting out of the conversation. "Don't tell me you were actually worried about me."

But Arthur was having none of his banter. "You are a manservant to the prince, Merlin! Instead of honouring the job, you seem to be bent on letting me plough through on my own!" He stepped in, his voice turning harsh in outrage. "Do you know how long it took me to get out of my armour? You're lucky I'm not sacking you! Where. Have. You. been?"

Arthur's aggression felt like a sandstorm grating his skin. As much as Merlin tried to keep a level head, he couldn't battle what was obviously more than a fit of banter. Something snapped as if Arthur's anger suddenly became part of his own emotional turmoil. "At the hall of records!" he bellowed with a strength he usually preserved for the dragon. Startled, he reined in his sudden lack of control, his lack of caution. He stepped back, not afraid of Arthur but fearing how close the scribe was at finding out who he really was; was scared of whatever Tagan wanted to use him for. Now was not the moment to reveal himself. He grew quiet. "Do you recall the curse of Sigan?"

Arthur looked as if he couldn't decide between continuing his rant and listening to what must have sounded like interesting information. "How could I forget. The sorcerer, lived about three hundred years ago, decided to make a re-appearance last year. I don't see what this has to do with your absence." He crossed his arms.

"He used a crystal to harbour his soul. I did some research. The crystal you saw Tagan wear turns out to be related to the blue stone Sigan used."

"Are you saying Tagan's a sorceror?"

"I'm saying he might not be what he seems. And neither is Mathylda." A thought occurred to him. "If they're connected to Sigan, then they might be older than they look."

"Oh, they might even be connected to those bodies we found in the wall!"

Merlin was about to say he wouldn't go that far when he saw the mocking look on Arthur's face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Merlin! What on earth makes you think he's hundreds of years old? Did he use the crystal around his neck? Did it do something, anything that would explain your preposterous theory?"

Again, Arthur's ridicule seemed to shake him more than usual. But the moment his resolve weakened, the dark magic inside him clawed its way into his fears, through his barriers, through to the core of his being where it ripped out a sliver of power. His hand cramped in his effort to resist pressing down on his chest. He fought to keep the distress from his face and recovered just in time to see Arthur sink down on the bed.

Merlin's stomach seemed to drop the entire length of Camelot's tallest tower as he realized what was happening. He should have known. But without either Gaius' or the dragon's guidance, he hadn't seen the obvious. Not until now.

Arthur sat on the bed, breathing heavily, hand pressed to his chest.

It took Merlin a full two seconds to force the words passed his closed throat. "The king said you fainted."

If Arthur's looks could kill, he would be dead.

Merlin caught his friend's blazing gaze and held it. One half cannot truly hate that which makes him whole, the dragon had said. When the dart had hit him, it had ripped all his magic away from him, had torn his soul apart. In his panic, his magic must have sought the nearest safe haven, the one other person it recognized as part of the same coin.

Arthur.

His friend waved a hand at him. "I don't want to talk about it."

Tagan was right. He'd acted on instinct but not in the way the scribe had anticipated. He felt it now, traces of his own power trying to manifest inside the prince in an effort to keep from being soaked up by the blood crystal. Arthur however, was as opposite to him as Gwen was to Morgana, so the prince wasn't equipped to handle magic. He sensed that his friend could harbour his power, but he could not use it. And herein lay the danger. His magic could use Arthur.

When Merlin got hit by the dart, his powers baled and Arthur got flooded. The sheer amount was too much for Arthur too handle and got reflected back to Merlin, but not before his magic had taken from the prince what it needed in order to keep Merlin alive. That's probably why his friend passed out on the practice field. But what was worse was that the small amount of power he lost now -as opposed to the surge he lost in one go during the interrogation- wasn't returned to him. It was mostly spent on fortifying a conduit between them that felt almost tangible. What magic remained was a small enough amount to seep through Arthur's barely existing defences to keep itself safe inside the man. Except when Merlin was in danger, or when the drain occurred, then he used that magic to feed off of Arthur's stamina. He'd always been conscious of a connection between them, but not like this. He was living on borrowed strength, literally. Arthur's strength. That was what had kept him going.

Horrified, he realized he had been feeding off his friend when he'd bellowed at him a moment ago. And even now, he used a small amount, just to keep standing, while Arthur had lost all his strength in his legs. A mental barrier Merlin hadn't even known existed slammed down. The dark power inside him twisted furiously, but he held fast. He couldn't have Tagan target him with that dark magic of his and, as a result, feed off of Arthur as well. Solely relying on his own strength now, Merlin swallowed. "You can't leave." He paused. "Like this. You can't leave like this. What if you pass out, again?"

"Merlin, I appreciate your concern, but I'm going to visit my uncle and that's it." Arthur looked up from the bed. Whatever barrier Merlin had raised seemed to work because strength returned to his friend's voice along with his lack of patience. "I thought you wanted me to get Mathylda off your back? You should be grateful! At least now you can get some sleep."

Merlin nodded, stating the obvious. "You knew."

"That she's been keeping you up all night doing God knows what? Yes, Merlin."

"It's not-"

Arthur cut him off. "I don't care, Merlin! You're not coming."

Letting Arthur go off on his own was hazardous at the best of times, but now… Earlier experience with the poisoned chalice told him distance didn't effect the connection between them. If Arthur passed out, Mathylda would have every opportunity to get rid of the prince, especially if she didn't want him to reach Aggravaine. "You can't stop me."

Arthur stood up. "Yes, I can!"

His friend's harsh anger enflamed the mental wall between them. Merlin flinched and bit his lip. He doubled his effort to cut himself off from Arthur but it was like trying to cut off an arm or a leg. He couldn't do it.

"I'm not telling you again." Arthur walked up to his face him with a cold fury that battered against their connection like the strokes of a whip. "If I find you following me, if I see one glimpse of you, I'll have you put in the stocks for the entire length of my trip!"

Arthur's serious attempt to shove him away pierced through his walls like a battering ram through a door. Caught off guard, he stumbled back.

Empathic.

It wasn't just Arthur's strength he drew on. Their link was empathic. He'd always thought that deep down his friend never meant to act obnoxious, but the utter contempt travelling along the stream of words spoke of a truth that felt like being struck by lightening.

Arthur ripped the still empty saddle bag from his hands. "Since you obviously can't handle the packing, I will get my old servant to do it for me. I want you to go and prepare the horses. Is. That. Understood?"

"Yes, Sire." he gave in, became for a moment the servant he needed to be, to survive. For the dark magic within him, it was enough. With a snap -and a heated sense of triumph originating from the dark magic within him- his mental barriers collapsed. He jerked away before Arthur could see the pain clouding his eyes. Sensing that Arthur must have felt at least part of that, he desperately attempted to keep from drawing on his friend's strength. His shoulder blossomed in agony as magic escaped him once again, so he stormed out of the room. His mind was set though. No matter how gutted he was at his friend's actions, no matter the consequences. He wouldn't let Arthur go alone.

TBC

Applause to those of you who got it right as to where Merlin magic went! So, one mystery solved, but this opens up a whole new set of problems not to mention a whole boatload of opportunities for me as a writer. Thank you for staying with me so far on this story!