A/N: *Hugs everyone* Thank you for all those lovely reviews! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this! It makes me happy that you like my little experiment to get back into writing. Thank you so much! Hope that you enjoy this too!

Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately.

Ch. 5-Together Once More

Strange, tense, wary, apprehensive…slightly disappointed?

Merlin couldn't lay an exact name on how he was feeling when he entered Camelot just in time to see the same execution of the sorcerer that he had witnessed the first time around. Disconcerting? Definitely that. Seeing Uther high above, once more proclaiming the evils of magic, sent ripples of tension through the young-again warlock. He still had nightmares caused by that man. Of all the beings that Merlin had encountered and fought over the years, the former-present king of Camelot was perhaps the most fear-inducing.

What did that say about the man?

The all-sweeping rage that burned through his veins when that…that…that hag threatened Arthur was in some ways both surprising and not. He knew that he put Arthur above all others, even himself, more often than not and as such was highly, obsessively, possessively protective of him. Oh, it hadn't always been like that of course, but over the years, Arthur became…his for lack of a better phrasing. The fact that the hag even thought she had the right to target the prince when it was clearly Uther who was to blame, well…

No, actually, that made sense. Arthur was targeted because of Uther all the damn time and that hadn't even let up when the man died! Because really, killing the son to extract revenge on the dead was such a logical thing to do!

He had slapped his forehead over it more than once.

When it came to protecting Arthur, Merlin knew he had never been very logical or rational and it only seemed to get worse as the years went on. Still, it surprised him how swiftly he became angry over the threat, especially since he knew (had a vague idea) of how it was to play out and she wouldn't win. She hadn't last time.

And she wouldn't this time.

Gathering himself back to the present (past?) Merlin glanced up and took a deep breath.

Step one: Get to Camelot. Done.

Step two: Gaius.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Over the years, Gaius and he had become family. Though Balinor had been the one to help bring him into this world, Merlin was never allowed the chance to know him. Growing up, he had been one of the very few in the village with one parent, and while that made him stand out, he at least hadn't been entirely alone. His mother had been wonderful and raised him the best that she could. He could honestly say that he could have asked for no one better.

But Gaius…Gaius had filled a role in his life that he hadn't even been aware that he was lacking. Teacher, mentor, role-model…father. Though the physician had never spoken the words aloud, Merlin knew the man thought of him as his son. Actions did speak louder than words after all. The thought of having to start all-over with that was both exciting and disheartening. Merlin really wanted nothing more than to sit down and discuss what he thought was happening.

He probably would have to before too long. Merlin knew he would relax and then say or do something that would be suspicious. If the older man knew ahead of time, he would, at best, get a scolding.

On second thought, he might just put it off just a little longer. How Gaius managed to make one feel as though they were five and caught stealing sweets from the kitchen, the warlock didn't know, but it had to magic. Surely.

Yep, definitely magic.

Keeping that thought in mind, he allowed the scene of their first meeting to play out just it had the first time around, though he made sure the door was shut this time.

One could never be too careful.

He was here, wasn't he?

Arthur did not know the precise date of when Merlin arrived, only that it coincided closely with the execution of the sorcerer who had been caught fixing a cart wheel with magic and the threat from his mother against Arthur's own life. It burned the king-prince's gut to allow the travesty of injustice to be carried out and he blamed himself for not being more aware of what was going on around him. He'd come back between the man's capture/sentencing, and the actual execution itself. He hadn't even been aware it was going to happen until his father mentioned it and by then it was far too late to do anything.

Arthur forced himself to watch the man's death, silently promising him that it would not happen again. It drove home just how cruel and unreasonable on the subject of magic his father had become. A wound he had allowed to fester for twenty years and it was not the king, but all those around him that suffered for it. Arthur, Gaius, Morgana, Merlin…

Merlin.

What his father would do to Merlin if he ever discovered what Arthur's (future?) manservant was capable of was chilling. Nightmare inducing. Not that Arthur would allow it to happen; he would take on his father first. And that was just another worry because it could very well come down to that one day.

Uther would have to go through Arthur before he ever laid a hand on Merlin.

The prince-king wondered if he should be worried over how detached he was becoming from his own father. Uther was still his father…but somehow not. If nothing else, time and death (Uther's and his own) had allowed him the space he needed to evaluate just how he felt on this subject and the more thought he gave it, the more sympathy he had for Morgana.

Not that he was being driven to patricide. He wasn't that desperate. With any luck, he never would be.

Besides, Morgana was a whole castle worth of issues by herself, which led Arthur to avoiding her as much as possible. He knew his sister had noticed, if the narrow-eyed gaze was anything to go by, but he intended to keep it up for as long as possible. He just wasn't ready to face that witch of an issue.

But, on to other important matters. Namely his warlock.

It was oh so tempting to march down to Gaius's chambers and demand to see his former (present?) servant, but how exactly was he going to explain himself? Arthur could just picture how the conversation would go.

Arthur would burst into the physician's chambers, probably upsetting Gaius's work or an experiment in the process, irritated and demanding all at once.

"Where is he?"

Gaius would be, understandably, irritated in turn because of said ruined experiment/potion-making and level a look in the prince-king's direction that would stop many knights in their tracks. "Whom are looking for, sire?" And just like that, Arthur would feel all of eight years old again and caught digging through Gaius's herbs.

Not to be put off, despite the off-putting not-glare he was receiving, Arthur would draw himself up to his full, majestic height and demand again. "Who else? Merlin of course! He's exasperatingly late this morning and his list of chores is only growing." The king-prince would peer around the room as though expecting Merlin to pop out from under the table, or out of a book.

And here would be the problem. "Sire, who is Merlin? I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name." A closer look. "You haven't hit your head recently, have you, sire?"

No, but he had died, and just how was he supposed to explain that?

So Arthur had to restrain himself from doing something drastic and patiently bide his time until his warlock-manservant decided to make himself known. He could be patient. He could wait. It was not a problem. Except for the nervous habits that seemed to crop up every other hour everything was absolutely fine!

After he acknowledged that patience, at least in this case, was not his forte, Arthur began to look at the situation he'd landed himself in as a hunt or patrol. Assess the situation. Locate the problem. Eliminate if necessary. It kept his mind from straying too much in Merlin's direction, though he often found himself glancing over his shoulder with a comment for the man only to find the place his manservant normally occupied alarmingly absent. Arthur tried not to let it get to him. If any of the knights had noticed his new habits, they had wisely chosen to keep their peace, though Leon had approached him once to inquire about how he was feeling. The prince-king had been warmed by the man's concern for even though he had known the man for years, he never got to know him until after Merlin. Merlin's fault? Yes, of course it was the idiot's fault. Thankfully.

This morning somehow felt different, the king-prince knew that the moment Thomas had awakened him. The day was…brighter, fresher, and more alive? Was that even possible? The blond royal didn't know for certain, but he could not shake the feeling that it was going to be a good day. No. Fantastic.

That feeling didn't decrease even when he found himself once more stuck with the miscreants that masqueraded as nobles (these idiots thought they were going to make it to be knights? Hah! Not likely.), but he positioned himself at the outer edge of their circle, observing. Trying to fit into his old life, especially before Merlin, was extremely…tiring. Too much so to make any real effort, so Arthur had chosen to do the next best thing. He had withdrawn, excusing himself whenever it was possible. The others had wondered at first, but after a bland smile and "I've just got a lot on my mind," or "Reviewing policies my father asked me to look into, would you mind listening?" It was so very hard to suppress a snicker over how fast they scrambled to get away from the last one. Keeping an extra eye on the servants around the idiots followed suit and Arthur found himself intervening more than he would like over how they were being treated. At some point they were going to push him too far and Arthur wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he wouldn't regret it.

"You're supposed to be a moving target!"

And oh look, it seemed as though that moment had finally arrived. The noble idiots had decided to pick on Thomas, which fired off plenty of the king-prince's protective instincts. While the boy might not be Merlin, he was good at what he did and was only now started to relax somewhat around him. Pushing himself away from the post he'd been leaning against, Arthur began his march towards the rowdy group to extract his (current) manservant from the trouble he'd stumbled into. So intent on his destination was he, that when the voice that rang out clearly across the field caught him completely by surprise.

"All right, that's enough."

Arthur tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself from sprawling on the ground. That voice! Why was he hearing that voice? Because there he was.

Merlin.

His warlock was helping Thomas to his feet, gripping his elbows to keep him steady as he regained his balance. It finally occurred to Arthur just what was happening. They had made it to The First Meeting (even if it seemed as though it wasn't an exact copy of the first). The fiercely stern glare that marred the other's countenance was oddly more frightening this time around (or had he glared? He couldn't remember). And strangely, it made the blond royal think of Gaius. Probably who he had learned it from.

"And just who are you?" one of the idiots sneered.

Merlin matched his sneer with a cold smile and the hairs began to rise on the back of Arthur's neck. This…this…why was it so much scarier this time around? "I'm the one stopping you from proving just how much of an ass you are."

And well shit. Arthur finally found it in himself to propel forward, neatly placing himself between the nobles and his servants. Merlin glanced up from his staring contest and froze when their eyes met. His mouth opened, silently forming one word, or rather, one name.

'Arthur.'

Why was he nervous?

Merlin knew that a great deal of what happened during their first meeting was down to pure happenstance and good timing. He wasn't entirely sure if he could recreate what had happened (should he?), but was mortally frightened of what would happen if he didn't. If Merlin didn't insult him during their first meeting, would the good-nature bantering relationship that would grow from it happen? Or, when he saved his life at the feast, would he just be courteously appreciative, never having the chance to move beyond that stage to something more? Friendship, brotherhood, family…more?

And how, exactly, was he going to hold himself in check around his king (for Arthur would always be his true king, not Uther), when he was already making slip-ups around Gaius? As much as Merlin liked to snicker over the man's obliviousness, Arthur had a tendency to be frighteningly astute at the absolute worst moments. Considering the warlock's luck, or lack thereof, it wouldn't be long before his king became suspicious and asked the wrong questions at the right time. Merlin wasn't sure he would be able to keep his secrets for very long this time around and the thought of once more having to conceal his true nature from Arthur turned his stomach sour to the point he'd lost his lunch more than once.

Gaius was very concerned.

But today was different. He'd known that the moment he'd risen, late, from his bed. Since his arrival two days ago, he had yet to see crown prince (king?) and he didn't want to admit, not even to himself, that he might being doing his best to avoid the man. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Arthur, he did! More than anything! It was like an itch that he desperately wanted to scratch and he had drawn more than one measuring look from the court physician over his jittery nature. It was in his favor that Gaius was still trying to get a feel for his personality. And just how would the man take it when he relaxed after finally getting to see his king? Or, would he relax? It was possible that the meeting might make his jittery nature worse!

After breakfast (Gaius, please learn to cook!) he went about his new (old) duties as assigned by the court physician, all the while trying to wrangle what the nagging at the back of mind could mean. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary during his deliveries, but it wasn't until his return trip that he finally realized exactly what was going on.

It was the laughter.

Unbidden from the depths of mind rose the picture of Arthur and his first meeting. Throwing knives, a runaway shield, a frightened servant (Thomas), the dungeons, the stocks…Arthur. It was happening; it was happening now!

Picking up his pace, Merlin strode through the gateway just in time to see (and hear) the solid thunk of knife imbedding itself in a round shield. Thomas's yelp and stumble made him move faster, but what sparked the anger was the laughter. He stopped the rolling shield with his foot, and gently pulled the manservant to his feet.

Merlin turned a glare on the group. "All right, that's enough."

The nobles (Arthur, where was Arthur?) gaped at him in blank astonishment. Merlin wasn't terribly surprised. He doubted any of them had ever been properly called out on their atrocious behavior and certainly never by a peasant. But Merlin, too used to bringing it to Arthur's attention when he was being a royal prat, was not going to let this pass. It's not as though this were training with knights who knew what the hell they were doing. The warlock had to suppress a snort at the thought of any of these men becoming knights. Not even with magical help would that happen! Because, seriously, what would have happened if they had missed? Thomas could have been hurt!

And where the hell was Arthur?

"And just who are you?" one of them sneered, trying to save face.

Merlin sent him a cold smile because, honestly? Who was he trying to scare? The warlock had met scarier squirrels. Those animals were downright vicious (and creative) when it came to their food. These miscreants…just no, not frightening one bit.

"I'm the one stopping you from proving just how much of an ass you are."

And, all right, this was likely not his best plan, but these idiots were seriously starting to piss him off. What gave them the right to pick on the servants in such a way, especially Arthur's servant?

It better not have been Arthur.

Before he could plan just how he was going to get himself (and Thomas) out of this situation, a new person inserted himself between the servants and the nobles. Merlin broke off his staring contest with the morons to see who was brave enough to put himself in the line of fire, and abruptly felt the world tip sideways the moment he locked onto that familiar blue gaze. Because there he was.

Arthur.

Merlin knew. Merlin remembered! If it wouldn't have been so undignified, the prince-king would have snatched the man up and spun him in a gleeful circle because finally! He was here! And best of all, he seemed to remember!

But the smile that was threatening to form against Arthur's wishes soon fell away as his warlock rapidly lost what little color he possessed and began to sway on the spot. Both Thomas and he quickly latched onto an elbow each when the dark-haired not-manservant threatened to crumple where he stood.

"Are you well?" Thomas ventured, worried about his unlikely savior. Merlin couldn't seem to answer him, too focused on Arthur.

All right. So Merlin remembered and it seemed to be causing some sort of mental breakdown. Right! Arthur needed to get them someplace secluded as soon as possible.

"Sire! Did you hear? The insolence! He must pay!" Sir Orvin shouted, hand outstretched to snatch-up Merlin.

Arthur jerked back, pulling Merlin out of the man's reach. "And he will," he ground out, wanting nothing more than to be away from here or, barring that, throwing knives at Sir Orvin to see how much he liked it. "I'll see to it myself. Thomas," he turned away from the nobles, clearly dismissing them, "make certain my chambers are tidied and then see to Gaius. Tell him Mer-his ward will be occupied until further notice."

The man offered a bewildered nod, sparing one more worried glance in Merlin's direction, before scurrying off to fulfill his assignments. One hand on the warlock's elbow and the other fisted in the back of his jacket, Arthur set off across the outer yards with a purpose, dragging the stumbling man behind him. Mentally reviewing over all the places he could let this happen, the blond royal couldn't help the internal grimace. Place after place was discarded as too open, not secure or too busy. Ideally the best place for this place for both their breakdowns (for Arthur didn't doubt it was going to take place, feeling his nipping at the edge of his mind) would be the king-prince's own chambers but that was too risky. It just wasn't possible to get Merlin there without someone asking pointed questions and when he didn't leave again (because frankly, Arthur wasn't certain he would be able to let the man out of his sight right now) those questions would take on a sword's edge.

So, the best Arthur could do on such short notice (and why, why had he not planned for this?) was the armoury. Not the ideal, but far better than many of his other choices and almost guaranteed to be empty at this point in the day. And if it wasn't, well, he wasn't above fixing that.

Decision made, Arthur shifted their course, continuing to drag the stumbling, but unresisting man with him. The prince-king failed to keep a frown from creasing his face, worry biting at the edge of his thoughts. What was wrong with Merlin? Why had he just frozen when he saw Arthur?

Could it…could it be because the last time they saw one another Arthur had…died? Had he died? It was so confusing! The growl he released sent those in his path skittering out of the way with widened eyes. Honestly, he didn't care that he sounded like an angry dragon because he was going to finally get some answers!

Hopefully. Part of him was doubtful, given Merlin's reaction.

At last, the armory! Propelling them both through, Arthur released Merlin long enough to lock the door behind him and prowl around the room, poking in all its corners to make certain they wouldn't have an unwanted audience. From the corner of his eye, he could just see the warlock tracking his every movement, eyes and expression trapped in some sort of turmoil the king-prince couldn't even begin to unravel. With his sense of privacy eventually satisfied, the warrior-king spun on his heel to face the raven-haired man head-on.

Merlin didn't seem inclined to move, or breathe for that matter, trapped in whatever pit of hell resided behind those ocean blue eyes. Those eyes, though, they were only for Arthur and the blond royal had a feeling that even if the world was collapsing down around them, Morgana, Morgause or the Great Dragon descending to decimate once more, Merlin wouldn't notice. Arthur wasn't too sure he would notice either. It felt like drowning, staring at Merlin, but he couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, but they were never going to get anywhere if they just stared. Honestly, wasn't the man happy to see him?

"Merlin?"

End Ch. 5

A/N: I probably should have mentioned that I am evil. Especially with cliffhangers. Anyone who has read my work before knows that. Well, speculation time! What do you think will happen next? P.S. You guys leave awesome reviews, they're so fun to read. Thank you!