Beyond Recall

A/N: Glad you enjoyed the early update this week and thanks for the reviews! I have big writing plans over the next few days, so I think the updates should be fairy regular! This chapter is the last non-cliffy for a while, so make the most of it! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 20

Arthur looked expectantly at the door to his chambers for what felt like the hundredth time in the last half hour, but it remained stubbornly closed, as it had done every other time he looked. He sighed emphatically.

'Arthur,' Guinevere said softly, 'I can just call my maid and ask her to get us our dinner. Or if not, I'm sure there are plenty of servants who will do the job.'

'It isn't their job though. It's Merlin's.' Arthur ignored the sympathetic look that he saw Guinevere give to him. 'Where is he?'

'Perhaps he forgot.'

'He hasn't forgotten anything for the past week, why would he start now?' Once again she stayed silent, but Arthur knew she was biting her tongue. He sighed and looked over at her. 'Fine, go on then,' he muttered. She smiled at him and then a moment later came and sat on his lap at the table. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

'I think he was a bit overwhelmed to hear about the reasons for the talks.'

'I know.'

'So perhaps he's not here because he's thinking it through.'

'Merlin doesn't think,' Arthur retorted, but it was a half-hearted jibe; it didn't have quite the same effect when Merlin wasn't there to hear it.

'Yes he does and you know it. How else does he come out with some of the things he says?'

'Used to say,' Arthur corrected.

'Will say again,' she smiled.

'You think so?'

'Don't you?'

Arthur considered the question. When he compared the Merlin who had stared unknowingly at him during that first meeting with King Tiden and the Merlin who had been with him over the past few days, he was hard pressed to believe they were one in the same. Then again, he still wasn't the Merlin from before.

But more and more, Arthur found himself expecting that person to reappear in his life. He was waiting for him to come in one morning and declare that all his memories had come back, and then make some joke about how that would be the end of his high quality servanting skills. That was what Arthur was expecting; the one thing that, initially, had been his key reason for not wanting to see or speak to Merlin. He had fallen into that trap of hope, but he had a feeling that he would find a way out of it; that Merlin would be able to pull him out.

And then this afternoon at the mention of his involvement in the talks –talks which Arthur had decided to put to the back of his mind for this evening- he had disappeared, giving some ridiculous reason about chores, which Arthur knew that he had already done. He had been acting oddly, even for Merlin.

And it wasn't that Arthur claimed to fully understand or know Merlin; he had a feeling that he never would -even in their closest moments, Arthur had always felt that Merlin was holding something back. He remembered Merlin once claiming that he was an open book, but Arthur had refuted it instantly. It wasn't as if that closed side of Merlin bothered him either; he had seen enough of Merlin to know that he had the man's complete loyalty. But always before, Arthur had felt at ease with that unseen part; it had never worried him, or given him cause for concern.

Now though, when he thought back on Merlin's hasty departure, he found that it didn't sit comfortably with him. Always before he had been able to shake off Merlin's odd behaviour or comments with a sense of security; quite simply: he hadn't needed to know. This time, however, he didn't feel that same sense of safety; there was something in the action that seemed to put him on alert and he found that he really did want to know why Merlin had bolted as he had.

He realised –and it sent pain through his chest- that he felt suspicious of Merlin, something that he had never felt before, not over anything serious. He looked back at Guinevere and sighed.

'I hope so, I really do,' he nodded. She smiled at him and headed towards the door.

'Then shall I call for my maidservant?' she asked.

'No,' he replied, standing up as she opened the door and then heading out of it himself. 'I'm going to go and find him.'

He didn't risk looking back at his wife's face; he was relatively certain that those weren't the words she had wanted to hear.

It took very little time to track Merlin down considering the size of the castle. He was hindered in his search, of course, by the numbers of people in the corridor who all insisted on bowing to him as he walked past. He had given up nodding his gratitude after the first few times; it just wasted time. He had searched along all the corridors between his chambers and the kitchens in the vain hope that Merlin really was on task and fetching his dinner, before confirming that his manservant wasn't there. It was on his way to Gaius' quarters that he found him. He was coming out of the wing, his face determined and his stride purposeful. He was so intent on wherever he was going that he failed to notice Arthur for several seconds. When he did, however, he stopped dead.

'Arthur?'

'Surprised to see me?'

'Yes,' he replied bluntly, his gaze shifting past Arthur and down the corridor. 'Did you want something?'

'Actually, there is something that I'd quite like,' he said with a feigned smile. Even in his distracted state, Merlin seemed to catch the underlying warning in Arthur's tone. 'My dinner!'

'Oh,' Merlin muttered. 'Oh,' he repeated, drawing out the word as he realised that he was very late at performing his job. 'Dinner,' he nodded with a heavy sigh. He looked down the corridor once again and made no effort to move.

'Am I keeping you from something, Merlin?'

'No, Sire,' he answered hastily. 'It's just…'

'What?'

'Did you want it right now?'

'No, I wanted it half an hour ago, but it wasn't forthcoming. What is that matter with you tonight? First you run off-'

'I didn't run off.'

'Well what would you call it?'

'I had things to do.'

'Such as?' Arthur asked him, folding his arms and looking expectantly at Merlin.

'Such as…' Merlin looked around as if hoping the answer would appear from thin air. 'Just things.'

'No, Merlin, you heard about your connection to the talks and you ran. And I want to know why.' He waited, watching Merlin's face crease in concentration, which only convinced Arthur that whatever he said next was going to be a lie.

'I had to-'

'The truth, Merlin,' Arthur interjected. 'Why did you run?' Merlin looked at him and then sighed and shook his head.

'Why do you think?' he asked. 'Arthur, you told me that you were trying to unite the entire land in memory of me! How was I supposed to react? I don't remember anything-'

'Yes you do.'

'Not enough to comprehend the idea of a King leaving a legacy like that to his servant.'

And suddenly Arthur wished he hadn't asked the question; wished he had just let Merlin spout his story about jobs that needed doing and then ordered him to go and get dinner. He had forgotten that Merlin could do things like this; could turn a perfectly reasonable interrogation on Arthur's part into something much deeper and much gentler; something that needed to be expanded on and explained.

'Arthur,' he said with another sigh. 'I don't remember Camelot; I don't remember…you or Gwen, not really. Everything I am doing here is based on some fragments of memory that tell me just enough to drive me mad and not enough to make me feel like I know who I am. And then you tell me that my death was important enough to a King that he wanted to bring peace from border to border just to make it count. In my mind, I was a farmer only a few months ago; there was nothing that made me important. I couldn't comprehend it, Arthur; I still can't. That's why I had to leave.'

Merlin fell silent and Arthur felt the weight of his words. He had never considered that; he had never really thought of what this experience had been like for Merlin; only now did he realise how selfish he had been. His thoughts, throughout this ordeal, had been only for himself and for his own reactions and emotions. He had thought nothing of the trial that Merlin was going through: all the new information that he had received and had had to accept about himself and his past life.

Arthur tried to think of what he could say in response, but nothing was forthcoming. With a sad smile Merlin walked past him.

'I'll go and get your dinner.' But as he walked away, Arthur found his voice.

'Merlin,' he called. The man turned back, but Arthur wasn't sure what to follow the call with. He thought back over what Merlin had said, and one thing stuck out in his mind. 'You realise don't you,' he began, wondering if he wanted to bear his soul quite so readily, but he continued on, 'that I wasn't leaving the legacy to my servant.'

'But you said-' Merlin began.

'I was leaving the legacy to my friend.'

It seemed as if the words had turned Merlin into a statue; he didn't move for several seconds. Only his eyes shifted, but from this distance, Arthur found it hard to read what was in them. But then Merlin nodded several times, his head bowed slightly, before he looked up more firmly.

'I know,' he answered, but his voice struggled on the words. Before Arthur could ask him anything else, he headed back into the castle.

Merlin tried to ignore the sense of time slipping away as he raced around the kitchens trying to gather up things for Arthur and Gwen's dinner. He had completely forgotten about it, what with everything else that was going on. Somehow, fetching food seemed insignificant. There were other things that he needed to do, vital things.

He had been on his way to do one such thing when Arthur had stopped him. He cringed as he considered what he had said in answer to Arthur's question about why he had run. He hadn't spoken the truth, that was for sure. Yes, he had been overwhelmed –so perhaps there was a half truth- but it wasn't entirely because Arthur was conducting these talks in memory of him –the fact was that the person he was at the moment, wasn't the Merlin who had these talks as a legacy. But through his memory returns, he knew who he had been; who the man was that Arthur had spoken to about peace in Albion. That was why he had run: because he knew he was destroying that person and Arthur with him.

But that would stop now. He would stop being a force for destruction and become a force for good and for honour and for loyalty and peace. With Gwaine about to start searching for his mother, Merlin was beginning to feel the cage that Steven had put him in widening and expanding. He felt like he could breathe again, felt like he could move around, if only with caution and subtlety.

His journey from Gaius' quarters –the one that Arthur had cut short- had been the first step forwards in his cage. He had been on his way to see James. He had thought carefully about going to see the man, but the fact was that he couldn't believe he was involved. Steven and Tiden's true colours seemed blatantly obvious to Merlin now –he felt a fool to have been so blind in his trust before- but when he considered James, nothing about the situation seemed to relate to the man that Merlin had met in Cyathia. Of course, if he was wrong, then confronting James would likely just make Tiden and Steven aware of how angry and desperate he felt –although they probably already knew that-, but he reasoned that they wouldn't hurt his mother just because he went and spoke to James. It wouldn't interfere with their plans for the talks and it wouldn't stop him from being able to spy on Arthur. In Steven and Tiden's eyes, it would be a desperate yet harmless action of a man who had been pushed to the limits of his endurance.

And if James turned out to be uninvolved in the situation, then Tiden and Steven wouldn't find out anyway.

Yes, that had been Merlin's plan and the thoughts that had brought him to it, but then Arthur had appeared and demanded to be fed and Merlin was hard pressed to find an excuse to get out of it. He raced up to Arthur's quarters and burst into the room without knocking; he cursed his forgetfulness and went back to knock on the door, but neither Arthur nor Gwen commented on the less then appropriate arrival. They seemed relieved to be finally getting some food; Arthur's snide remarks to the same effect made that abundantly clear.

Not a lot was said during the meal. Gwen attempted to make conversation, but Arthur seemed to have withdrawn into himself –no doubt dwelling on the talks yet again- and Merlin's answers weren't exactly lengthy whenever he was asked a question. Over the past week or so, the three of them had normally talked quite a bit; Arthur and Gwen filling him in on past events, or generally just involving him in their conversations. Tonight, however, the three of them said very little. Merlin vaguely wondered how similar their thoughts were as they conducted the meal silently; he doubted that there would be any similarities at all.

As Merlin was clearing away at the end of the meal, Arthur disappeared from the chambers, saying that he was going to take a walk in the lower town. Inwardly, Merlin had breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that it gave him an opportunity to go and speak to James, but as he was heading towards the door with the remains of the meal piled precariously on a tray, Gwen called him back.

'My Lady?' he asked. She smiled fondly at him.

'Merlin.'

'Gwen,' he corrected, returning her smile. Although he now thought of her as 'Gwen' in his head, he had found it much harder to use her name than he had Arthur's. Very few of his returned memories had anything to do with the Queen and, as such, being relaxed around her didn't come as naturally as it did when he was with Arthur. Whether the lack of Gwen in his memories was because he hadn't spent as much time with her or because they weren't connected in the same way that he and Arthur were, Merlin didn't know, but either way it had made interacting with her on his own very difficult. Thankfully, up until now, there had only been fleeting moments when they were left alone. At this particular moment, however, she seemed keen to change that.

'Will you sit with me, Merlin?' Merlin eyed the door longingly; he had already been delayed in visiting James, he didn't wish to put it off any longer. But then he looked at her hopeful smile and heard the gentleness in her voice and he found himself laying the plates back down on the table and taking the seat across from her.

'Is everything alright?' he asked. Gwen laughed.

'I was about to ask you the same. What troubles you Merlin?'

The answers to that question were so numerous and so complicated that for a moment Merlin faltered under the weight of them.

'It's nothing,' he answered.

'Merlin, I have known you for so long. I know when you are troubled.'

'There's just a lot to understand,' he said evasively, although he doubted he was fooling her. She got up from her chair and came to sit in the one beside him. He tried not to shift nervously, but it was difficult.

'I know it's been very hard for you to be here, trying to fit into something that you don't remember, but you are doing well.'

Merlin nodded and looked up at her; there were tears in her eyes and her expression was one of hidden sadness. And suddenly he understood something that he had only briefly touched upon before now: Gwen had missed him just as Arthur had; in her own way, she had struggled through exactly the same emotions as her husband and yet she had kept them to herself, knowing that they would distress Arthur and Merlin in equal measure.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, as the revelation took hold, but he felt like he was apologising for more than his lack of effort with her; he was apologising for everything, for the betrayal, for the path he had unwittingly put himself on, for the future he had helped to destroy. He felt tears fill his own eyes. 'I have hardly spoken to you and yet I was your friend as well,' he continued, looking at her and trying to push away his darker thoughts.

'Long before you were Arthur's,' she nodded. 'You used to complain about him to me.'

'And you still married him?' Merlin asked, trying to force a smile as he blinked away his tears. She returned it with a quiet laugh, looking down in her lap for several seconds before returning her gaze to his.

'You changed him a lot.'

'I'm sure you did as well.'

'I think so,' she nodded, and suddenly Merlin didn't see her as the queen. She was just a young woman, talking to her friend, spending time with him. 'But you paved the way for all the changes in him. You put up with him Merlin, you really did. I'd see you sometimes; you'd be so cross with him and yet you never wavered in your commitment. To either of us,' she smiled. 'I feel I have you to thank for where I am now. I don't think I ever thanked you for that before.'

'I doubt Arthur would have needed much convincing. He loves you very much.'

'I know. But…' she shook her head. 'I wish you could remember Merlin, remember how much you've done; remember all the things that have come about because of you; remember the journey that you've been on.'

'So do I.'

'Sorry, Merlin,' she said quickly. 'I shouldn't have said anything.'

'No, don't be. I think it's what everyone wishes.'

There was silence for several seconds, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Eventually Gwen spoke. She looked up at him hopefully, but there was hesitancy in her voice.

'Can I ask you something?' she ventured.

'Of course,' he replied, but there was a certain intensity in her voice, which made him feel nervous.

'When the talks have finished, which I believe will be soon,' she said sadly, 'are you staying in Camelot?'

Merlin hadn't been expecting the question.

'Has Arthur-?

'No, he hasn't mentioned anything. But I think he assumes that you are. And yet…' she shook her head and looked at him. '…and yet I see you sometimes and you look lost and uncertain, and I don't know whether you want to stay. You sometimes seem so unhappy to be here.'

Merlin looked at her and saw how she struggled to say the words, how she wished she didn't have to.

'No, Gwen, please don't think for one moment that I'm not glad to be here with you and with Arthur in Camelot.'

'But sometimes-'

'That isn't because of anything that you or Arthur are doing. That's to do with…' he shook his head and looked away.

'Merlin?'

'There are things that I must face about my past and about my present,' he said eventually. 'And when I have faced them and overcome them…' he paused and murmured, almost to himself, 'and learned to live with them…' He looked at her again. '…then I promise you that I will be here in Camelot. I will stay, Gwen, if you and Arthur want me to.'

'What do you mean?' she asked. 'Of course we want you to.'

'Then I will,' he nodded. He stood up, trying not to look at the slight uncertainty on Gwen's face. He had said too much. 'I'll go and get these cleaned up,' he continued, picking up the plates and cutlery. 'I'll see you later, Gwen.'

Merlin spent the next half an hour cleaning up in the kitchen, trying to believe that he could really keep his promise to Gwen. He had said what was in his heart, rather than listened to the voice in his head telling him that Tiden and Steven wouldn't let him stay in Camelot. But once his mother was safe and once he had found out what they were doing, he would be able to control his own future. With that thought in mind, he headed to James' quarters.

The corridors were quiet by the time he got up to where James was staying. Thanks to Merlin's forgetfulness concerning dinner and Gwen's desire to talk, most people had already retired for the night. There were a few soldiers around at different points, but aside from that he was alone. He tried to walk around quietly, but without looking like he was trying to be quiet, which was much more difficult than he had expected. Even so, he couldn't help but feel like the entire situation was familiar and he got the feeling that he had spent a lot of time sneaking round the castle when he shouldn't have been. Even as he walked, snippets of memory seemed to come to him, just short flashes of him at different points of the castle, always trying to remain unseen, whether it be by using magic, or ducking into recesses.

When he reached James quarters, he checked up and down the corridor and then quietly turned the handle. The door was locked and so Merlin muttered a quick spell and then pushed the door open. It creaked slightly, but Merlin persisted; it was too late for him to change his mind now anyway.

The moment the door opened fully, Merlin was met by a stern looking James. He was standing up straight, his arms folded in front of him.

'I don't recall teaching you to open locks.'

'That skill is one of my own,' he replied, trying to ignore the discomfort he suddenly felt. In retrospect, perhaps breaking into James' room hadn't been his best plan. James' expression didn't waver, but Merlin detected a flicker in his eyes. He unfolded his arms and then walked past Merlin to shut the door.

Merlin took that as proof that he was allowed in and took several steps forward. He scanned the room in the fire and candle light. Against the left hand wall was an elegant wardrobe, which looked like it was well over a hundred years old, while the neatly made bed was pushed against the back wall, underneath windows that were hung with thick dark drapes. To his right, the fire burned low, small flames licking at what remained of the charred wood, and beside that was a writing desk with a parchment and quill laid out, as if they had only just been used.

'You shouldn't be in here. If King Arthur were to find out, you would find it difficult to explain.' He moved over to the desk and sat down, picking up a quill and writing on a parchment. He ignored Merlin, making no further effort to talk to him.

'I need to speak to you,' he pressed, moving over to the desk and leaning against it, keeping his eyes fixed on James until he looked up.

'I'm busy.'

'Then I will be quick.' Without saying a word, James replaced the quill in the ink well and moved his chair back so that he was facing Merlin. He nodded that he should continue.

'I want to know how you could do this to me and to my mother.' James frowned at him.

'What are you talking about?'

Merlin paused. His instant reaction was to sigh in relief: James didn't know that Merlin was being blackmailed; he was not in on whatever plan Tiden and Steven were setting up, but he forced himself to be cautious.

'I can't believe you anymore. I trusted you in Cyathia and now…'

'What are you talking about?' James repeated, sitting up straighter in his chair, his voice becoming firmer.

'You know what I'm talking about,' he pressed. 'And I'd like an explanation.' This time James stood up; he looked angry, but anger wasn't the only emotion on his face; something like desperation seemed to be smoothing into the features as well.

'Stop playing games with me, Merlin. What are you talking about?' He enunciated every word, his tone demanding and Merlin found himself wanting to tell the man, wanting to be able to dispel his fears. He needed an ally in James; he needed someone from Cyathia to be what Merlin had thought they were.

'I told Steven that I didn't want to do this anymore, and he told me that he has my mother and Gaius; that they were kidnapped from Ealdor.'

'What?' James asked, and the shock that resonated from him seemed to be genuine. 'Then you must tell Tiden. You must do it now.'

'It was Tiden's order,' Merlin told him. 'If I don't continue giving information, they're going to kill both of them.'

'Tiden would not…' he began, but then he turned away, pacing in agitation. There was uncertainty in him; something that Merlin had never associated with the man before.

'Well he has,' Merlin retorted. 'Answer me honestly: are you involved?'

'No, I am not!' he replied, turning and taking two steps to cover the distance between the two of them. 'I do not condone blackmail or violence against innocents. And neither does Tiden.'

'Then your ruler has failed you,' Merlin told him, his own anger beginning to rise at James refusal to believe him. 'Because his actions condone both.'

James' eyes burnt into his as the man remained where he was, but after a few seconds he moved back. He paced on the spot, his feet beginning to go one direction and then changing their mind and heading in another. Merlin could almost see the back and forth logic going on in his mind through the reactions of his body.

'You saw what he was like today in the talks,' Merlin began gently after a few seconds had lapsed. 'You saw how he treated Arthur.'

'He was finishing the talks; it is why we are here.'

'No, he wasn't finishing the talks; he was trying his best to finish Arthur. Was that part of your plan: to ruin the reputation of Camelot?'

'He is only trying to keep Cyathia safe; it is what we have been trying to do for years!'

'So this is what you thought would happen? This is what you planned together?' Merlin asked him pointedly. 'And they're planning something else;' he continued, 'something with the soldiers and knights. Was that part of your preparation with the King before you came to Camelot?'

'I have served Tiden for nearly twenty years,' he said, rounding on Merlin fiercely, but there was desperation in his voice. Whatever James made of the accusations, he wasn't finding it easy to dispel them. 'All he has ever wanted is for Cyathia to flourish.'

'Well now she can. Once Camelot's lost all trust and respect, no-one will join with her; Cyathia will be free to flourish. There'll be no problems with unity across the land.' James looked at him, his brow furrowed, but Merlin understood; he could hear the bitterness in his tone, the anger.

'I don't know what has happened to change your mind about Cyathia, but I can not believe that-'

'Well you need to!' Merlin interrupted. 'Tiden had fooled you. Perhaps he knew you would never agree with the plan, perhaps he knew that you would argue against it, but either way, he has left you out of his true intentions and used Steven to carry them out.'

'Steven has never held sway over Tiden,' James argued.

'Really? Then tell me why he has spent so much time in the King's company since arriving here. Tell me why I've been asked to report to him more than I've been asked to report to you.'

James fell silent, his brooding expression deepening. He stared absently into the fire and then returned to his chair by the desk. He sat, stooped over the desk, looking suddenly much less impressive than he always had done in the past.

'I'm sorry,' Merlin said quietly, moving closer. 'But I need you help.'

'I can't help you,' James told him without lifting his eyes.

'They've got my mother.'

'I can't help you.'

'James.'

'Merlin, I am bound to Tiden. I, too, took an oath of loyalty.'

'It doesn't hold you to anything more than an opinion,' Merlin argued. 'My loyalty mark is obsolete now.'

James laughed at that, a dark, bitter laugh that made Merlin uncomfortable.

'You should never have taken that oath. It binds you more than you know.'

'What are you talking about?'

'You need to leave now,' he answered hastily instead.

'What did you mean?' Unconsciously he lifted his hand to the top of his arm where the mark was hidden beneath his shirt.

'Get out, Merlin.' The man rose from his chair and took Merlin firmly by the arm, walking him back towards the door, but his face –which was usually so unreadable- was wrought with countless emotions that Merlin had never associated with the man: fear, uncertainty, disbelief.

'Tell me what you meant!' he demanded, his desperation mounting, but moments later he found himself outside James' room, facing a closed door. He considered using magic to go back in, but he was wary of speaking to James again; the man seemed on edge, close to letting loose a fury of pent up emotions.

'James,' he tried instead through the door, but he got no reply. Footsteps down the corridor caught his attention and he took that as his cue to leave. It would do no good to be found waiting outside the door of an advisor of King Tiden. He disappeared into the corridors of the castle, feeling frustration welling in him with every step he took away from James' room.

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