Beyond Recall

A/N: Thank you for such a lovely response to the last chapter. It was very encouraging! Hope you like this one. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 16

Merlin glanced around the meeting room, his expression grim. In front of him Arthur, who had come to the meeting so ecstatic at the single memory that had returned to Merlin, now sat looking utterly dejected. He was trying to hide it, but even from where he stood, Merlin could see that the King was struggling. His shoulders were hunched slightly and under the table he was holding the Queen's hand tightly.

'…and I for one, will not allow my kingdom to be absorbed into Camelot's dictatorship!' King Chalere shouted. The man, who was quite imposing –at least six foot tall and muscled with it- was red with anger, an anger that, in Merlin's opinion, seemed to have come from nowhere. Around the rest of the meeting, the Kings, Queens and counsellors exuded similar emotions: anger, fear, confusion, uncertainty. The tension in the room had been evident from the moment the meeting had started and it had clearly taking Arthur by surprise.

Now he stood up, waiting for the murmuring and shuffling in the room to stop, but it took longer than it should have done; for whatever reason, the people in the room had lost some respect for Arthur.

Merlin glanced over at Tiden, James and Steven, and one look at Steven's face told Merlin everything he needed to know. The sudden change in the attitude of the gathered monarchs was no accident. At some point over the last day, Tiden had begun his plan for disrupting the talks. Merlin wasn't sure how it had happened. He knew that he hadn't said anything to start causing a rift between the servants of different kingdoms which would then hopefully spread to their masters and mistresses. When he had briefly met with Tiden yesterday, the King had said that it would be a reckless thing for Merlin to do now that he was seen to be on King Arthur's side. Tiden had mentioned that he had other people –servants and soldiers- in place to carry out the same job, but Merlin had had no idea that he would act so quickly or that the plan would be so effective. He wondered if magic had been involved in the sudden shifts; perhaps people had unknowingly been influenced. Merlin didn't feel entirely comfortable with that.

He knew he ought to feel happy that the plan seemed to be working; that the talks were starting to disintegrate, but somehow, as he looked at the strain on Arthur's face, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the young King. Not that he deserved any pity from Merlin after the last two days of hell he had put Merlin through, but nonetheless he felt sympathetic.

He doubted he would feel quite so charitable towards the King had it not been for their encounter before the meeting when Merlin had remembered that one small event. But something in the way Arthur treated him had changed instantly in that moment. With the tensions of the meeting, Merlin hadn't had much time to think about it, but he was beginning to see what and where he had come from.

Gwaine had been right all along. Merlin really had been Arthur's friend. Yes, he was his servant too, of course, but somewhere along the way, Merlin got the impression that his role as servant had fallen into second place next to his role as friend. It was the only thing that really explained the King's behaviour towards him over the last two days. He had given Merlin his job back in the hope, no matter how small, that he would be getting back his friend, not his servant, and all Merlin had done was present him with a servant. It was the only explanation for why the King had been so…lenient and unconcerned when Merlin had stood there yelling at him. Because friends did that sort of thing, they told each other how it was, they disagreed, they talked about real things, not just a job. His rant earlier had been the first time that he had acted like a friend –albeit an angry one- rather than a servant. For the first time, he had been the person that Arthur had wanted him to be from the moment he realised that he was still alive.

The revelation was somewhat overwhelming to Merlin. He had believed Gwaine when the man said they were friends, but because he had not realised the depth of the connection, he hadn't really considered how a friendship like that –one between a King and his servant- would play out in reality. He hadn't given it any thought until now. But even with this new understanding, Merlin found that it didn't make things simpler for him when trying to figure out his relationship with the King. Before, he hadn't really wanted to understand it anyway –he was here to do a job, nothing else- but now, after seeing such an unexpected and intriguing reaction from the King to what should really have brought about an instant dismissal, Merlin found that his curiosity, against his better judgement, was getting the better of him.

Where was the line drawn? That was the main question that he found circling around his head. If he was a friend, but a servant also, then where did those two roles blur together and where did they remain separate? Evidently he had been allowed to question Arthur -to question the King of Camelot- and evidently he had said some quite discourteous things to the man in the past; the King had shown no shock when Merlin had started insulting him. He had even suggested a word! But surely somewhere along the line, there had to be a point where Merlin was a servant insulting a king, rather than a friend reprimanding a friend. How did that work? How did he know when to speak as a friend and when to stay silent as a servant? And how had Arthur treated him in public? Surely the people would have turned against a servant who acted as though he was Arthur's friend, but Merlin knew from his experiences over the past few days that people had liked him.

He didn't understand. He genuinely didn't understand how their relationship had worked and survived in the six years of Merlin being in Camelot. How had he, a spy in the castle of Camelot, managed to form such a deep bond with the man that he was working against? How had he created a friendship with a king while at the same time carrying out nothing more than a deception?

He looked at Arthur again, saw the man struggling to pull the meeting back to order and wondered what he could possibly have done to gain so much trust from this King that the man would be so grieved by his apparent death, so overcome by the revelation that he was still alive and so overjoyed at the tinniest recapturing of a relationship that, to all intents and purposes, no longer existed. The guilt that had been a frequent visitor to Merlin's heart of late, suddenly pushed down on him like a weight. And this time, try as he might, he couldn't shift it. He realised, now, that in carrying out Tiden's plan –a plan which he still believed in and wanted to be a part of- he would be forced to bear the burden of what he had done -and what he was going to do- to Arthur Pendragon for the rest of his life.

Arthur led Guinevere into their chambers and then let his kingly stance fall away. Merlin had not followed them up, and Arthur was thankful for that. One memory may have been regained, but if Merlin had been going to say anything at the moment, it would have had to have been words spoken with six years worth of wisdom and experience in Camelot for the message to have reached Arthur. As it was, he and Guinevere were left on their own.

Arthur stood in the middle of the room, his eyes closed and his shoulders slouched in what felt like defeat.

What had gone wrong?

He voiced the same question to Guinevere, who looked at him sadly and then moved forward and wrapped her arms around him. He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly.

'I don't understand,' Arthur whispered. 'Yesterday they were all so…open-minded. They listened to each other; they spoke with respect and determination. And today…' he shook his head and moved over to the window, staring out over Camelot, while Guinevere followed and rested her head on his shoulder.

'I don't know what caused such a change,' she admitted. 'Perhaps the success of yesterday put people on edge.'

'I don't know what to do. How can I put things back on track?'

'We will find a way,' she reassured him, turning him round so that he was facing her. 'We will,' she nodded. 'We knew that these talks would be difficult. In all honesty, they have gone much more smoothly than we could have hoped up until today. It is just another barrier for us to overcome.'

Arthur looked at her, and smiled gently. He really didn't know what he would do without her. She balanced him out perfectly; she knew when to speak and what to say. He lent down and kissed her.

'We will do this together,' she told him firmly. 'We will call on the knights of the round table and talk about the best way to move forward.'

Arthur nodded, pushing himself away from the window with a new determination.

'I'll send for-' but she pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head.

'We need some distance first,' she told him. 'Distance and objectivity. There is no point trying to sort things out until our heads are clear.'

Arthur wanted to argue. He wanted to sort things out now, get things set on the right path, but he knew that Guinevere's words were full of truth. He nodded and kissed the finger that was still pressed against his lips. She smiled at him.

'So, tell me. What is this good news that you mentioned before the meeting?'

Instantly, Arthur felt his emotions lift somewhat as the dying hope connected to the meeting was exchanged for the rapidly growing hope of Merlin's true return.

'What is it?' Gwen asked with a laugh, and Arthur realised he was smiling to himself.

'I think we might just get Merlin back,' he replied.

When Merlin went in to see Tiden after the meeting that afternoon, the King was in very good spirits. He spoke to Merlin only briefly, reminding him to listen carefully to what Arthur said regarding the peace treaty over the next few hours and days, identifying anything that could be used to disrupt them further. Merlin had nodded and assured the King that he would do his best.

'And Merlin,' Tiden added as Merlin made to leave. He turned back.

'My Lord?'

'Your visits to speak to me must stop. It will look suspicious. If you have anything to pass on, you must come to my chambers in secret or else seek out Steven or James. Our plan is well on its way to being a success, but suspicions from any party will slow it considerably.

'I'll remember that, Sire,' he nodded. As he left the room, he couldn't help but feel the smallest amount of relief at that development. Somehow, he didn't want to speak to Tiden every day to relay the things that Arthur had said.

From there, Merlin had considered going back up to Arthur's chambers to gauge his initial reaction, but the man had worn his heart on his sleeve during the meeting, and Merlin felt like he would be nothing more than a hindrance if he went up there now. Instead, he decided to make his way to the stables and speak to Peter. He had no doubt that the boy would be intrigued to know that a memory had returned. Part of him, though, felt reluctant to mention anything.

It was only when Merlin thought about telling Peter, that he realised he hadn't mentioned the regained memory to Tiden. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, hesitancy holding him where he was. Should he have told Tiden? He had a feeling that the man would want to know, and yet it had not even crossed Merlin's mind to mention it. Even now as he stood debating the matter, he found that he really didn't want Tiden to know. The King might question his loyalties again, magical oath or not. Did Merlin really want to be on the receiving end of the King's mistrust once more? The simple answer was 'no'. And besides, it was one small memory that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. No, he wouldn't mention it to Tiden. It would cause problems that didn't need to be there.

He continued his walk to the stables and quickly made his way to the building where all of Cyathia's horses were being kept. In a stall separate from all the others, Zephyr stood. He smiled as he saw her and walked over, calling her as he did. She responded instantly and Merlin whispered gentle words to here, stroking her mane and nose.

'Where's Peter then, girl? Have you seen him?' The beautiful creature looked at him with gentle eyes, almost like she wanted to talk. He laughed and went and pulled some fresh hay from the bale at the side of the stable. He held it up to her and she chewed it thoughtfully, nuzzling him for more when she had finished. Content that she was happy, Merlin left Zephyr to her musings and went back out of the stable in search of Peter. He knew that his friend was scheduled to be here this evening; he had mentioned it earlier when he had dropped in to see Merlin during his lunch break, but now he was strangely absent.

Walking down the row of stables, Merlin spotted two more of Cyathia's stable hands heading up the path with a huge bucket of oats between them. They nodded a greeting at Merlin and lowered the bucket.

'How are you, Merlin?' the first asked.

'I'm fine thank you. Just looking for Peter. He said he would be here this evening.'

'Oh, yeah; he swapped with me earlier today. He's going to do the early morning tomorrow.'

Merlin frowned at the information; he knew for a fact that Peter hated doing the early morning shift with the horses. Two more stable hands would arrive after breakfast to muck out the stables, but the early morning worker usually had to haul all the fresh hay and straw into the stalls in preparation.

'Really?' he asked. 'Did he say why?'

'Nope, just said he had something he needed to do. I wasn't going to argue. I can sleep-in tomorrow now.'

They smiled in farewell and then carried the bucket into the stables, but Merlin didn't pay them anymore attention. An uneasiness had settled in his chest the moment the stable hand had mentioned Peter's reasons. Merlin had no doubt that the boy was keeping an eye on Steven's men.

Merlin sighed in frustration and headed back out of the stables. His first instinct was to go and find Peter and drag him back to the inn to yell at him about staying out of things that could get him into trouble, but he had no idea where the boy could possibly have gone. Merlin had been with Steven all afternoon in the meeting, but he hadn't seen any of his men at all. He hadn't laid eyes on them in days. If Peter was following them, then Merlin would simply have to wait for him to return.

Which he did. The innkeeper had seen Merlin often enough with Peter to let him wait in the room and so Merlin took a large amount of satisfaction from seeing Peter jump in fright as he finally walked back into his rented quarters an hour or so later and saw someone else in there.

'Where have you been?'

'Did you break into my room?' Peter frowned at him.

'The innkeeper let me in. Where have you been?'

Peter rolled his eyes emphatically and lay down on the bed with a sigh, staring challengingly back at Merlin who sat on the chair opposite.

'Well, everybody else seems to be part of some secret plot so I thought I might as well try my hand at carrying out my own.'

Merlin closed his eyes and lent his head back against the wall.

'You've been following Steven's men.'

'You say it like it's the worst thing in the world I could be doing.'

'It's dangerous,' Merlin argued.

'They didn't have a clue I was there,' Peter told him flippantly, as if his worries were completely unfounded.

'Peter, if they see you-'

'They won't see me. And, besides, you're missing the important thing here.'

'Which is what?'

'They really are up to something.' He sat up as he said it and leaned into Merlin in such a conspiratorial way that Merlin couldn't help but be intrigued by what Peter had discovered. He tried to remind himself that Peter lacked nearly any magical ability, whilst Steven's men were something of an elite magical group, but it faded into background concern as he contemplated the idea that Steven really was up to no good. If Merlin and Peter could expose him then perhaps it would ensure that everything really did go smoothly and Cyathia would be free to continue in safety.

'Go on then, what did you find out?'

Peter grinned at the change and then shuffled forwards on the bed. 'I followed one of them today. I guessed that Steven would be at the meeting and that he'd probably want his lackeys to get some things done when none of the Kings or Queens were around. Less security, I suppose.'

'And what did he do?'

'It was really odd. He went down to the training grounds, and another one of Steven's group was there on the other side of the field, and then they both watched the sparring. The soldiers do it every afternoon when the meetings are on. A few of them from every kingdom get together and train.'

'So what did Steven's men do then?'

'Well…that's it really,' Peter said, shrugging and looking at Merlin.

'But you just said they were up to something.'

'Well why were they in the training grounds?' Peter asked defensively. 'Don't you think it's odd? None of them sword fight and yet they spent nearly three hours watching other people do it.'

Merlin stared at him, aware that he probably looked quite gormless with a half open mouth.

'That's it?'

'What do you mean?' Peter asked, eyed narrowed. 'It's strange.'

'It's not strange. It's just some men showing an interest in swordplay. That's perfectly normal.'

'For the whole afternoon?'

'Well what else have they got to do? Steven was in the meeting with Tiden; the soldiers were training, all the servants were getting ready for the evening meal. They're Steven's men. They do what he tells them. Obviously he told them to take the afternoon off.'

'But…' Peter began. Merlin sighed and chided himself for being drawn into Peter's conspiracy theory. No, Merlin may not like Steven, but Tiden trusted him and James -although the two didn't always see eye to eye- hadn't seemed to have had a problem with him since the argument that Merlin had overheard. He and Peter were just looking for trouble where there was none to be found.

'Please, Peter,' Merlin said gently. 'Don't follow them anymore. If they see you they won't be happy. And I really don't think they're doing anything.'

'What about the one that disappeared on Torrent on the first day? We still don't have an explanation for that?' Peter asked. He was all but glaring at Merlin.

'That doesn't mean there's a bad explanation.'

'Merlin-'

'Peter, I mean it. You're going to get hurt over nothing.'

'I can't believe you're not taking this seriously.'

'It's not that. It's just I think we've let our personal feelings towards Steven and his men blow things out of proportion. Listen,' he continued, waiting until Peter was looking at him, even it was with a glare. '…I've watched Steven for the past few days. I've seen him a lot and he is not against Tiden at all. He has the same goals as the King, I would bet my life on it. But if you get yourself noticed then Steven will make sure you're punished, and it will be for nothing.

Peter stared at him for several seconds, and for the first time since he had met the boy, he genuinely felt the age gap between them. He had never sensed it before, what with Peter being the age that Merlin remembered himself to be. But somehow, at that moment, Merlin felt those six years that actually stood between them; he felt the urge to protect the boy from his own impulsiveness. Peter, too, seemed to sense the shift. He firmly held Merlin's gaze for several seconds, but then dropped his eyes and sat back on the bed.

'Fine,' he said, not looking at Merlin. 'If you really don't think there's a problem then I'll leave it.'

'Thank you,' Merlin nodded.

Conversation was difficult after that. While Peter seemed to have accepted Merlin's advice, he was by no means happy about it, and in the end Merlin headed back to his chambers.

He ventured back up to Arthur's room later on to serve the King and Queen dinner and to help Arthur get ready for bed, although very little was said; they both seemed somewhat preoccupied about a meeting with some of the knights that they had just returned from.

When he went to bed that night, Merlin found that he couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Steven and Arthur and Peter kept on circling around his mind, with each person presenting their own difficulty. Steven in particular, occupied his thoughts. Despite what he had said to Peter, Merlin did feel wary of Steven's men's actions, but at the same time, he wasn't willing to risk Peter's safety to expose them. He decided that he would keep more of a lookout for anything suspicious, although how he could do that when he was running around after Arthur all day, he didn't know.

Night soon turned to morning as those thoughts vied for his attention, until at last Merlin was forced to distract himself by reading one of the huge medicinal herb books that he found in the main living area. That sent him to sleep relatively quickly.

When he woke later that morning, he couldn't remember dreaming, but it quickly became apparent that his mind had been working hard as he slept. For as he ate and dressed that morning, he found his mind attempting to pull together several images that had been unearthed during the night and were now forming together like pieces of a jigsaw.

Even as he walked to the King's chambers, he was still straining to fit the last few pieces in, but as he quietly opened the door, the last piece seemed to slot into place. For the first time since returning to Camelot, stepping into the King's chambers felt familiar, like he really had done this before. Instinctively, he knew what to do; knew what he had done every morning; remembered countless mornings walking into Arthur's chambers. As to surrounding events and conversations of his morning wake up calls, he still drew a blank, but this bit was clear.

And so, knowing that this was not the part he was meant to be playing and knowing that he shouldn't revel in a past that was now out of his reach, but being unable to help himself, Merlin walked quietly to the other side of the bed, took hold of the curtains in both hands and flung them open wide. The sun burst into the chambers and, on the bed, the two monarchs reacted quite differently. Gwen rolled over, a smile on her face. She murmured a good morning and blearily looked at Merlin before closing her eyes again. Arthur, on the other hand, pulled the pillow up violently and forced it back over his head. Just as Merlin knew he would; just as Merlin remembered he would.

'Merlin! How many times…' he muttered.

'Rise and shine, Sire,' Merlin said brightly, before standing and waiting. It was Gwen who looked at him first, her eyes shooting open and trying to focus on him. Arthur, on the other hand, froze for several seconds and then sat up abruptly in the bed.

'What did you say?' he asked, as Guinevere sat up behind him, a smile on her face as she looked at Merlin.

'What I always say in the morning, Arthur,' Merlin replied with a grin.

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