Beyond Recall

A/N: Happy New Year! Hope you all had a good time. I thought the first of January was as a good a day as any to update, so here's the next chapter. Thank you for your reviews for the last one and please let me know what you think of this one.

Chapter 11

Arthur walked quickly into his quarters, trying not to look like he was attempting to escape the rest of the world, but knowing that he was failing miserably in that quest where Guinevere was concerned. She followed him in and he heard her gently click the door shut. She said nothing and Arthur took the opportunity to try and compose himself. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes, but when he did, he only saw the scene that had just unfolded in the hall. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forwards, his hands braced against the table, trying to hold his body weight.

'Arthur,' Guinevere said, the concern evident in her voice as she walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm.

'I'm fine,' he replied quickly, but when he tried to push himself up off the table, he found his strength was sadly lacking.

'Here, sit down,' she told him, hurriedly pulling out a chair from the table and steering him to it. Arthur tried to hide his embarrassment at his current reaction. He wondered if he was going into some sort of shock. For shocking was a more than apt word to apply to his current situation. He took several deep breaths as Guinevere pulled another chair out and positioned it in front of Arthur. She sat down and lent forward, her hands clasping his and squeezing them tightly. 'Arthur, this is a good thing.' He nodded quickly, unable to trust himself to speak, but not wanting her to believe for one second that he wasn't glad. Because he was. The joy that had leapt through him when he finally realised that the man standing in front of him was actually Merlin and not some imposter or illusion had been overwhelming. It still was. It was why he had had to get out of there so quickly. He hadn't trusted his reaction to be anything close to kingly and he couldn't afford to let that façade drop in front of potential allies.

'Are you alright?' Guinevere asked him gently.

'Yes,' he managed, looking up at her, squeezing her hands back and smiling. 'Are you?' Instantly her face of concern turned into a smile. She gave a short laugh and a few tears slipped from her eyes. She nodded her head.

'He's alive,' she laughed, her disbelief echoing in her voice. 'Arthur, Merlin is alive and well.' He nodded back, but the smile that had been beginning to form on his lips died out again.

'Well in body,' he agreed. 'But his mind…'

'The memory loss may not be as severe as we think,' she said quickly, but Arthur didn't reply. He had seen the look on Merlin's face; he didn't remember anything. There had been no flicker of recognition in his eyes, nothing to suggest that he saw anything familiar when he looked at Arthur. Instead there was an unsettling detachment that Arthur hadn't been able to look at. Merlin had never looked at him like that. He said nothing in response to Guinevere's optimism. In truth, he knew nothing about how amnesia worked or how long it should take for someone to regain their memories, but Merlin's current state didn't strike him as one that would improve. After all, it had been nearly two months; surely some memories should have been coming back, especially now when he was back in familiar surroundings.

But there had been nothing.

'I'll ask Edward to see him,' Guinevere added after a few moments. Edward was the physician that was currently standing in for Gaius. Gaius had, in fact, returned to Camelot for a few weeks not long ago, having spent time with Hunith in Ealdor, but he had told Arthur that he wished to go back for a while and help Merlin's mother a little more: according to Gaius, she was not coping well with news of her son's death. Arthur had granted permission instantly. It was partly selfish –Arthur still found it difficult to look at Gaius' grief stricken face; it only served to remind him of his own grief- but at the same time Arthur wanted to offer Hunith any help he could. She had helped them in the past, and what was more, with Merlin gone, there was no-one to look after her. Arthur had sworn to look after her for Merlin's sake, even asking Gaius to invite her to live in Camelot, but Gaius had been convinced that she wouldn't move from the home that she had raised Merlin in, and his conviction had been proved right. So it was that the physician had returned to Ealdor with a wagon full of provisions for the village and an armed guard to ensure they got there safely. He had recommended Edward as a temporary replacement and Arthur, though he had not had much to do with the man in the past, agreed, trusting Gaius' judgement on the matter. 'And then when Gaius returns he can look at Merlin himself,' Guinevere continued, squeezing Arthur's hands again.

'Alright,' Arthur nodded, forcing some hope into his voice for Guinevere's sake. She smiled. 'I'll go and see Edward now, and you can speak to Merlin.'

'What?' Arthur asked her sharply as she headed towards the door. She turned. 'I can't go and speak to him now.'

'Why not? You haven't got any other meetings scheduled for today.'

'I need to prepare for tomorrow's talks.'

'Arthur,' Guinevere told him with gentle a reprimand in her tone, 'you have known exactly what you are going to say at the talks for weeks. You're as prepared as you can be.'

'He'll be with Gwaine now.'

'I hardly think Gwaine is going to mind.'

'I…' he trailed off, trying desperately to think of another excuse. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go and speak to Merlin; not now, not yet.

'You'll have to speak to him eventually,' Guinevere said softly. 'The longer you leave it the harder it will be.' She didn't say anything else, just walked over and kissed him on the cheek before heading down to find Edward.

Arthur listened to her footsteps echo down the hall, but with so many people in the castle, they soon became lost. He stared at the door, an internal battle raging. How could he go and speak to him? Not when this was how things were. He sighed and closed his eyes. How many times in the last few weeks had he wished to be able to talk to Merlin? He had lost count. On occasion, he had even found himself talking in his chambers as if Merlin was there. It was ridiculous…and painful. So many times he had forgotten, just for a second, and had called out for Merlin to help him with something, or gone to ask the man about something that was on his mind, only to be pulled up sharp when he realised he was talking to no-one. All he had wanted was to be able to speak to Merlin.

He stepped forward, and gave himself a firm nod. He could do this. He was the King of Camelot; a warrior, a knight. One conversation with a person who had been his friend for six years was hardly difficult.

'Sire, are you saying that I know you?'

Merlin's words from earlier suddenly rose in his mind and he felt his resolve crumble. Taking several steps back, he sat himself down on the bed and stared unseeingly at the wall. He had a terrible feeling that Merlin hadn't really come back at all.

Merlin half listened to Gwaine as the man led him to King Tiden's chambers. The knight kept on pointing out things that Merlin had done in this part of the castle, or trouble he had got into in that part of the castle. At first, Merlin had strained to remember them, but when that had proved fruitless -and when he couldn't deny that all the escapades sounded exactly like something he would do- he felt the familiar panic from earlier rising up in him. And so he tried to block out what the knight was saying and instead tried to absorb all his surroundings in the hope that something would trigger a memory, but it was useless. Very occasionally, he felt a fleeting recognition, just as he had when he first saw the city, but it went in an instant, leaving him wondering whether he had felt it at all.

'Well,' Gwaine nodded, stopping outside a large door with patterned hinges and carved wood panels, 'this is where I leave you for now. King Tiden's chambers.'

'Thank you for explaining things.'

'No problem. Sorry it didn't help much, but if you've got any questions or you remember anything, or you just want to escape from your two royal employers, come and find me.'

'Thanks.'

'It's great to see you, Merlin,' Gwaine grinned, clapping him on the back. 'Hope you can say the same before long.'

Merlin smiled. The man's light hearted attitude was infectious. 'Me too.'

'I'll see you soon.'

Merlin nodded and watched as Gwaine headed off down the corridor. He had to admit that he could understand why he and the knight were friends. It had seemed so unlikely half an hour ago and now Merlin found that he believed it easily. He gave a sigh and then turned round. He wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to go and speak to Tiden; he was worried that the King would ask him questions about how this new revelation made him feel, and the truth was he didn't know the answer.

He looked down at the gift box in his hand; King Arthur had not picked it up, it had remained on the floor forgotten and so Merlin had brought it back up to return to the King. It seemed that the first part of their plan to work out Camelot's views on magic had failed. Compared to his personal discovery earlier, however, the failure seemed unimportant. Shifting the weight of the box onto one hand, Merlin raised the other and knocked on the door.

'Come in,' Tiden's voice called firmly. Merlin pushed open the door and stepped inside. He hid his disappointment at seeing Steven and not James in the chambers with Tiden and then gave a short bow. Before he had straightened up again, however, he felt a hand slam into his neck and gave a yell of alarm as he found himself thrown back against the door and held there by a sneering Steven. The box with the amulet skittered across the floor, throwing its contents against the wardrobe on the far side of the room.

'What are you doing?' he choked. Uncharacteristically, Steven didn't reply and instead fixed Merlin with a smug grin. It was Tiden who stepped forward and addressed Merlin.

'You were given the trust of the court.' The King's voice was cold and lacking all of its normal levity. Merlin frowned in confusion.

'I know,' Merlin gasped, his hands clawing at Steven's where they held him firmly. Merlin felt the man's fist connect with his stomach and gasped in pain, attempting to double over, but being unable to. 'What…?' he choked, but Steven tightened his hand around Merlin's neck. Panic began to take over his body as he realised that he couldn't breathe. He kicked out at the man and dug his finger nails into his arms in an attempt to loosen the grip, but Steven just pinned his legs and didn't seem to feel the damage to his arms. '…can't…' Merlin tried, but Steven just smiled.

Before Merlin registered what he was doing, he felt his magic surge and fly out at Steven in anger. The man stumbled backwards, looking very much like he had received a physical blow. Merlin, however, found himself crashing to the floor, choking and gasping in an attempt to draw in the much needed air that had been withheld from him.

'What are you doing?' he gasped, his voice hoarse from the previous attack and coloured with shock at what had just happened. Steven took another menacing step towards him, and Merlin scrambled backwards, hitting the wall. He considered holding his hand out for a moment, but he didn't want it to look like he was trying to use magic against Tiden. One look at the monarch, however, made Merlin rethink his peaceful approach. The man looked different to anything Merlin had ever seen in him before. The coldness in his features felt like a physical chill and Merlin struggled not to shudder and look away. 'Your Majesty, what have I done to warrant such treatment?'

'Stand up, Merlin,' the King told him. Merlin did so, but was very aware of the door just to his right. 'You have led my people into a trap.'

'What?' Merlin asked in shock.

'You led me to believe that you were sympathetic to Cyathia's cause and vision. You led me to believe that you would help us to ensure our kingdom's safety.' The words were as hard and as cold as stone and Merlin felt the weight of them as if they were being thrown at him. Tiden suddenly seemed to be a far more authoritative and steely figure than Merlin had ever seen him to be. He realised that he had seen glimpses of this version of the man on occasion, but nothing more concrete than that. Now, however, he was seeing underneath the surface that had been presented to him so far.

'Sire,' Merlin said, dropping to his knee and bowing his head. 'I agree wholeheartedly with the kingdom that Cyathia is creating and I am here to help you.'

'You are an employee of the royal household of Camelot,' Tiden told him, his voice dangerous as he took another step forwards.

'I don't remember anything,' Merlin said desperately.

'You are a spy. Your memory loss is a ruse that you have used to gain our trust.'

'What?' Merlin asked, his eyes wide. 'I assure you, Sire, that my memory loss is real.'

'You are a clever manipulator.

'I'm not manipulating anyone,' Merlin said desperately. 'It was your men that pulled me out of the river. I would have died without them. It was no trick. Please, Sire; you must believe me,' Merlin finished, his voice still hoarse from Steven's attack, but strong enough and desperate enough to at least cause Tiden to question his thoughts. He surveyed Merlin closely, his head tilted slightly to the side. He took a deep breath.

'You expect me to believe that you had not even the slightest inclination of your connection to Camelot?'

'I didn't, Sire. I don't know anything about my old life. It doesn't matter anyway,' Merlin continued, trying to make the man understand. 'It is with Cyathia that I wish to continue. My old life is not important.'

'You were manservant to the King of Camelot!' Tiden shouted, his voice like a knife in the quiet of the room.

'I didn't know,' Merlin repeated more quietly.

'And now you're my manservant.' The King shook his head as if he'd been taken for a fool and could barely believe it. Merlin frowned. Indignation filled him. Did the man still not believe him?

'You gave me that position,' Merlin argued, feeling a fight come into him at the implication that he had somehow sought power.

'You made yourself seem so invaluable,' the King sneered.

'I did no such thing,' Merlin said, finding himself suddenly back on his feet, his eyes fierce as he looked at the King. 'I never once tried to find favour or gain position. You gave me that yourself.'

'You dare to show such insolence to a king?' Tiden asked, taking another step forward, Steven right beside him, ready at any instant to launch another attack. Merlin suddenly felt the fight drain out of him. What was he doing? He was all but shouting at the King! But somehow it didn't seem wrong or unfamiliar.

'I do if my integrity and loyalty is questioned, my Lord,' Merlin said more gently, pouring respect into his voice. Tiden seemed unusually placated by the response. He paused for several seconds and Merlin saw the irritation in Steven when he was nodded to the other side of the room.

'Tell me, Merlin. Why would a sorcerer as powerful as you be working for Arthur Pendragon? And not just in recent times, but for six years?'

'I don't know, my Lord, but please believe me when I say that your goal for Cyathia is one that I share. It is my home now, not Camelot.'

'But this was your home. These people are your friends -including the King.' Merlin shifted uncomfortably at the words and the look on Tiden's face, but he didn't refute the comment. Gwaine had said as much to him earlier. Somewhere along the way, he really had been friends with the King of Camelot.

'They are not now,' he replied. 'I feel no connection to them, no recognition. I do not agree with their views on magic.'

'Then why were you here? In the very place you could be killed for your gifts?' the King asked him firmly.

'I don't know.'

'Does the King know of your magic?'

'I don't know,' Merlin repeated helplessly. I don't think so. Nobody else seems to. And surely if he knew I would have been executed.'

Tiden considered the words carefully for several seconds and then sat down at the table in the room, his gaze never leaving Merlin.

'Perhaps you are not the spy that I suspected you to be,' the King continued quietly after a long silence. Merlin was pleased by the man's use of the past tense. 'No, perhaps you are another spy in your own right. Perhaps this position that you held was a means to fighting against the Pendragon view on magic.'

Merlin's initial response was to argue against the assumption, but as he opened his mouth to do so, he found himself considering the words. Surely he hadn't been a spy; secretly working against the King of Camelot, whilst pretending to be his friend? Merlin felt nausea surge through him at the thought of such malicious intent on his part. That wasn't him; it couldn't be him. For one thing, his mother knew he was here, and she would not allow him to become that sort of person. Unless…he shook his head, but he couldn't stop the thoughts now. Unless she didn't know; perhaps he was lying to everybody. To his mother, to Gwaine, to King Arthur. Perhaps his entire life was a creation put in place to mask a darker purpose.

Merlin closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe that about the person he had become; the very thought made self-loathing swirl through his mind. Tiden had it wrong.

But then…why was he working in Camelot? Why was he in such close quarters with a King who would gladly see him dead if he knew the truth? Tiden was right. His position here made no sense unless explained through the King's assumptions. Perhaps there were circumstances that Merlin was not aware of, but he was at a loss to guess what they could possibly be. He opened his eyes to see Tiden watching him closely and Steven's face a mask of hateful amusement at the evident turmoil that Merlin was going through.

'I suppose it is a possibility, my Lord,' he replied heavily.

'Then perhaps you will prove even more helpful than I had hoped,' Tiden continued. He gestured to Merlin to sit down, which he did, trying not to show his unease at what the King was going to say. As soon as Merlin was seated, Tiden also took up position at the head of the table. 'You swear to me that your loyalty is to Cyathia?' he asked quietly, his gaze piercing.

'Yes,' Merlin replied instantly, because it was. It didn't matter what his life had been before; the one Cyathia offered was everything he had ever hoped for. Gwaine and King Arthur and everybody else who had been with him were no longer important; if what Tiden was saying about his subversive position in the court was true, then they had never been important to him anyway, only a means to an end. He swallowed down the self loathing that rose. He would not be that person anymore. He wouldn't play the enemy in disguise; he would help Tiden ensure Cythia's continuing safety and then his life would be his own again; one that he could choose for himself.

'You must prove your loyalty to me.'

'I will do,' Merlin nodded.

'I need something stronger than your word, Merlin,' the man continued, his eyes fixed intently on Merlin, making him want to look away. He managed to return the man's gaze, though. He wasn't sure that looking away would convince Tiden of his sincerity.

'What stronger way is there?'

The King said nothing, but nodded to Steven who came forward, only just managing to contain his loathing for Merlin. The man stood next to Merlin and began pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. For a moment, Merlin assumed that the man was just going to pummel him into the ground as a means of drawing out his loyalty, but instead he leaned forward and showed Merlin the top of his arm. Merlin frowned as he saw what Steven was trying to draw his attention to.

On his skin, almost burned into it, was a circular symbol, no more than a few inches in diameter. It comprised of four arms, each in the shape of sickle blade, curling round towards each other and all facing the same direction in the circle. Around the arms were tiny runes that Merlin couldn't read or understand, but they reminded him of the runes that were engraved into the amulet. The amulet, he realised, that was still lying on the floor, having not been picked up from when he'd dropped it. He hoped he hadn't damaged it.

'What is it?' he asked Tiden, his eyes only leaving the mark when Steven snapped his arm back and returned to where he had been standing behind Tiden.

'It is proof of Steven's loyalty to me, and to us all. A loyalty that is sealed with magic. Unbreakable.'

'And if he were to be disloyal…?' Merlin asked uncertainly.

'I would be made aware instantly. I bear a similar mark, one that lets me know who I can trust of my magical-sworn followers and who I must deal with.'

Merlin allowed the words to sink in. This seemed an extreme measure to take to prove his loyalty.

'You hesitate?' Tiden asked.

'No, my Lord. I just…' he scrambled to find words with which to finish the sentence, but they eluded him. He thought about what was being asked of him. He had sworn his loyalty to Tiden anyway and he meant what he was saying. If this was what he had to do to reassure the King, then it seemed a small sacrifice. 'What must I do?'

The process was short, much shorter than Merlin had expected. Tiden had the necessary potion to place on Merlin's skin and he explained to Merlin exactly what he must recite. He spoke the unfamiliar words with confidence; he couldn't understand them, but they felt right on his tongue, as if he had been used to using them in the past.

As soon as he had uttered the words, however, all sensations of familiarity disappeared. He felt magic shoot from the top of his arm throughout the rest of his body. It wasn't painful, as such, but it was uncomfortable, as if something was trying to reorder his magic and his mind, before fading into the background. He took several deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart and then, once he felt himself again, he looked back up at Tiden. The King was smiling widely at him. He nodded his approval.

'Now your loyalties are without question.'

'I am glad, my Lord. I wish to do anything I can to help Cyathia.'

'Then this is what you will do,' the King continued. 'You will go back into the employ of King Arthur.'

'What?' Merlin asked in shock.

'Where else could you be of more use?'

'Use for what?'

'You will determine his view on magic you will investigate ways of swaying them to be more inline with our own. If that fails, you will find a viable way of disrupting the talks.'

'You still want me to be a spy?' Merlin asked in barely concealed dismay.

'You have played the part in Camelot up until now. We can assume you are good at it,' Tiden continued, choosing to ignore the indecision on Merlin's part. There were several seconds of silence. How could he do this; it was this side of his past that he wanted to turn away from. 'You have just sworn loyalty to our cause.'

'I am loyal,' Merlin told him.

'Then complete this task. Once you do, you will never have to a play a part again. Cyathia will be safe with no bloodshed and no revelation to Arthur of our inheritance.'

'Is there no-one else?' Merlin asked slowly. He kept the desperation out of his voice, kept his tone level.

'There is no-one else who will be able to slip so effortlessly into Arthur's confidences. Do you not understand Merlin?' Tiden asked. 'Your presence in Arthur's court will ensure that our aim is carried out quickly and easily without loss of life or war. You are in the perfect position to liberate Cyathia from prejudice without a single violent exchange.'

Merlin considered the words. Could it be that if he went through with this final deception that he could end them all? That he could live without hiding? Live in the knowledge that he had saved Cyathia and protected her without the need for war? He looked at Tiden, saw the King waiting patiently for his response and eventually nodded. He would do this. He would end the lies that seemed to have been his entire life for years.

'It would be an honour,' he replied.

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