Thank you very much to all my reviewers and to all the people who have added this story to their favourite lists… and also to anyone else who has bothered to read this far to be honest.

Orion1432: I'm very pleased you enjoyed the last chapter so much. The alternate future stems from themes and events in this story but I intend to explore the matter much more fully in a sequel as I have lots of ideas and want to do them justice. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

I'm not sure if this makes up for yet another evil cliffhanger but hopefully it's not a disaster. I don't know why, but I really, really struggled to write this chapter which annoyed me, and now I'm out of time to work on it. It's probably not what some people were hoping for but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :D

Chapter 22

Please Arthur, just get out of here I'm not safe, Merlin thought as he fought a vicious struggle inside himself. His back arched violently as another surge from the pendant rushed through him and a nearby log blew apart as his body made an instinctive effort to expel it.

This was no spell or curse; it was magic pure and simple. Just magic, raw magic, straight from the heart of the source, gushing via the stone that clutched like a claw at his chest. He was used to the sensation of magic that pumped through his veins and the warm glow and strength it gave him, but it was always there, a constant, and he noticed it in the same way that he noticed his foot was at the end of his leg – it was normal and he didn't know any different. The magic that was being forced into him relentlessly made his head explode.

This magic was not like his own and yet at the same time it very much was – more so than any other magic he had ever encountered. It was the difference between a loyal guard dog and a wolf; both had the potential to be ferocious, but Merlin's magic was a part of him – it had been with him all his life and it walked at his heel. By contrast the foreign energy coursing through him had no master and unless he could wield it, and soon, it would consume him.

Arthur, please just GO! As his unspoken urging flashed through his mind he saw Arthur's shock-filled face as he was blasted backwards from him, an instant before power burst forth from his every pore, erupting in flames.

He twisted on the ground, a living torch, his breathing was laboured and a frantic hammer battered against his ribcage. The magic itself was neutral, there was just too much of it – more than anyone could possibly control, but Merlin couldn't help but feel betrayed by himself, that a force he felt so strongly connected to could destroy him like this. Well tough, he wasn't about to let it happen. He would master this.

He could feel some of the magic mingling with his own, becoming one with him and valiantly rallying forth to help protect him from the blaze, but the flow from the pendant was never-ending and the excess was killing him. Having absorbed a huge amount, he could take no more, he must be rid of it. He had to take command and use it or it would be released from his body by force and if that were to happen, especially all at once, he dreaded to think what the results might be. He already felt like he was losing the battle and his defences were weakening as the uncontrollable outpouring of magic from himself gave strength to the flames that licked around him. He was getting hotter.

He only hoped that Arthur was safe and that the over-exuberant effort of his subconscious to keep him out of harm's way hadn't caused him any injury. No, he could just about see him through the fire, he seemed fine but he was struggling towards him. No! Merlin's mind cried out despairingly. Save yourself!

Before he knew what he was doing, Merlin's hand was outstretched and a silver dome shimmered briefly for a moment over him, stopping Arthur in his tracks. The sight of it vanished in an instant but the magic remained and despite everything, Merlin allowed himself a small smile. He had protected Arthur. That was the last coherent thought he had. As the sparks crackling inside his skull intensified, Merlin was gradually losing his grip on who and where he was. There was just the torrent of magic and the faint voice of reality telling him to fight it, whatever it took.

Standing there helplessly, so close yet so far, Arthur couldn't take his eyes of Merlin as he burned.

"No!" he raged. "No! No! No!" His fist beating against the invisible barrier with each word, but still it held firm. He gave it an additional kick for good measure before spinning round anxiously. Taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself, he pressed his hands against the shield that separated Merlin from him and watched. Merlin's blazing body still had its arm extended and a vague reassured smile had twitched the corner of his mouth, almost as if he'd done this deliberately. Of course Arthur knew that couldn't be the case; it was part of the sorceress's magic to keep him from doing anything. Still, it was maddening. Damn it – Merlin was the one who needed protecting, not him.

Merlin collapsed on his belly, now wearing an expression of intense pain. "Hot, hot, it's too hot."

Of course it was hot, he was on fire and Arthur needed to get to him but couldn't, not with this infernal… whatever this was stopping him.

"Cool," Merlin moaned. His eyes were closed and he no longer seemed entirely conscious to his surroundings. "Cóle, cóle, cool. I need it…I need..."

From out of nowhere an arctic wind whipped up around him, billowing inside the bubble and extinguishing the flames. Now they were out Arthur could clearly see Merlin, lying there on his front virtually naked save for a few scorched rags, which had once resembled clothing. His flesh was badly burnt. The prince could not help but stare in shock as Merlin's spread out hands emitted a ghostly pale glow and frost crept outwards from his down-turned palms, changing the blackened earth around his fragile form a silvery white. Icy fingers inched up the invisible shield separating the two men making it glassy and translucent, and the breath from Arthur's gaping mouth condensed on the barrier in front of him as he felt the bitter chill nipping at his exposed skin that was pressed against it. Had Merlin done this? How was that even possible? What was that stone doing to him?

Whatever it was couldn't be good. The frost spreading from Merlin's hand was also making its way up his arm, encasing him in a crystalline cocoon and he was shivering defencelessly against the cold.

Without warning, Arthur almost fell over, his fingers slipping against the smooth ice when the magical shield suddenly fell away leaving behind a glassy shell. It creaked ominously as cracks snaked through it, before the entire structure shattered to the ground in a hundred frozen pieces.

But he could get to Merlin.

The frigid air was even worse this side. Arthur crouched down beside him, tossed aside the fragments of ice that had fallen on him and carefully rolled him onto his back. The white frost clinging to his skin accentuated his burns making them look even more horrific than they already were and if he didn't know better Arthur might not even recognise him. The stone pendant still shone brightly as Merlin lay trembling. Try as he might though, Arthur could not remove it.

"Arthur," Merlin shivered, but didn't look at him.

"I'm here Merlin," said Arthur calmly.

"Arthur." Merlin was very much out of it and showed no sign that he knew his friend was watching over him. "It w-won't st-st-stop."

"Oi! Stay with me here. I haven't dragged you all this way so you can just give up on me now." Arthur was trying to act as normal as possible… considering.

"It's b-b-b-bloody f-f-f-f-freezing," Merlin stammered. Arthur felt some slight relief. So at least he was still in there somewhere.

"I know, but you're my servant so you don't quit unless I say so." Merlin's eyes were still tight shut and his head lolled to one side away from Arthur. "And look at me when I'm yelling at you."

Gently cupping Merlin's chin, Arthur tilted his head back round to face him. The young man's frozen eyelids opened a crack and a pair of golden eyes widened to his, although they looked straight through him. "That's better," said Arthur, deliberately ignoring the vacancy of Merlin's stare and trying not to let its abnormal colour, which stood out brightly in contrast to the iciness around them, disturb him too much. "Now I don't care what it takes, you are going to beat this… thing. And you are going to get better. I'm telling you – no, I'm ordering you – you will get better."

"Get b-b-better?" Merlin answered. He sounded lost.

"Yes."

"Are you s-sure?"

"Positive."

"Y-you want that?"

"Of course I do."

"I t-think I can do t-that."

"That's more like it."

"I think I c-can do t-that."

"Good," Arthur said, though Merlin now appeared to be rambling.

"I can–" Merlin gasped suddenly and stopped shivering.

"Merlin?" Arthur reached for Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin, can you hear me?" Arthur gaped at his cold-numbed hand as it suddenly felt warmer against Merlin's skin. Once again Merlin was glowing and Arthur retracted quickly. "Merlin, fight this! Merlin, stop it!"

Taking another backward step, he couldn't help noticing the prickling sensation in his palm which he supposed was due to his burns now that the feeling was gradually coming back, but he stole a brief glance all the same. If it hadn't been attached to his wrist, Arthur would have probably thrown his own hand away from him in fright when he saw what was happening to it. He did a double-take. His broken blisters were disappearing and being replaced by perfect tissue, the redness was fading and the whiteness dulled, so there was no longer the faintest of traces to show he'd ever been hurt. Arthur then fixed his gaze firmly on Merlin. A similar phenomenon was happening to him.

The enveloping glow was softer this time, almost peaceful, almost harmless – but Arthur knew better than to be fooled by appearances. Nevertheless, the frost that covered him was gradually thawing and beneath his icy coating, Merlin's hideously charred flesh was becoming smooth and pale once again. Even the lesions obtained from the swamp weed were closing up as the newly repaired skin surrounding them knitted itself back together over each of the small wounds.

How-?

Arthur wasn't sure whether he should comfort Merlin, kill him, or run for the hills – especially when the tattered rags began repairing themselves too. Instead he ended up fixed to the spot until the pale light faded… and a while after that. If it wasn't for the fact that Merlin was lying on his back, his face contorted, there would be no sign that anything had happened. Arthur knew he should probably try and help him but still his feet would not respond, even though Merlin's expression seemed to indicate that he was in great pain – either that or he was trying to pass an egg. Given the bizarre events which had just occurred Arthur wasn't ready to discount that possibility.

With an massive groan, Merlin rolled onto his side and the pendant gave one last flicker before it went out, tumbling like an innocent pebble onto the dead ground. Only then did Arthur summon up the will to go to him. Arthur couldn't quite grasp the state that Merlin was no longer in. To be sure that it wasn't all just a trick, he cautiously lifted up Merlin's now intact shirt and brushed his healed hand against Merlin's skinny stomach. It was soft to his touch.

"Ow!" Arthur yelped, snatching his hand back as he felt a shock. "What the hell was that?" he exclaimed. Although he had a pretty fair idea. Merlin was still… different. Was he even Merlin anymore?

His fears, at least some of them, were put to rest when Merlin's forehead narrowed, his eyes opening one at a time to reveal the familiar blue he was accustomed to. "Did you just have your hand up my shirt?"

Arthur looked at him probingly, trying to ascertain if this was a stranger or a friend.

"Ooooh!" Merlin moaned, his head swimming and his mind foggy. "My head feels like it's been on fire."

"It was," Arthur pointed out.

"Oh," said Merlin. "Actually yes, I vaguely remember that bit. I guess that would explain it." Merlin clutched his throbbing head in his hand as he staggered to his feet.

"Do you remember any anything else?" Arthur asked carefully. "Do you know what y– what happened to you?"

"No, not really." Merlin searched his clouded thoughts. He could still feel traces of the raw magic he hadn't got rid of buzzing around his system and it was very distracting, but at least they were no longer killing him. He kept quiet about this – as long he could keep control he could handle it. They made their way back to the nearby spot where they had made camp earlier that night and Merlin racked his brains. There was something lurking, a vague recollection…"I hurt you! Arthur I'm–"

Arthur shook his head. "You didn't hurt me Merlin," he calmly replied .

"Your hand, it was burnt when you first touched me."

"It wasn't," Arthur insisted.

"You were clutching it and I could have sworn…"

"See, not a mark on me," said Arthur, holding up his palm so Merlin could see the clearly unblemished flesh.

"But-"

"There's nothing there, so you couldn't have burnt me," Arthur lied.

"Do you mind if I– ?" Arthur snatched his hand away and swiftly pulled on a glove before Merlin could inspect him more closely. Merlin frowned. His brain really was in a muddle. He could just about recall the fire and something about trying to protect Arthur, but after that it was empty. This vacant void suddenly dealt him a worrying blow. He must have done something to expel most of the magic, otherwise he wouldn't be here. He must have used it somehow and surely that wouldn't be discrete. What was missing? "No, I don't really remember anything else," he truthfully admitted. "My mind is pretty blank."

"No change there then."

"I didn't do anything… unusual?" he asked, testing the waters.

"Unless you count bursting into flames, becoming an icicle and finishing up better off than you started, then no, nothing unusual."

"Oh," Merlin exclaimed fearfully.

"Merlin, you were bewitched or cursed or something – define usual."

Arthur's use of the word 'were' did not go unnoticed. However, whatever Arthur may think, Merlin could still feel the excess power lingering within him, wanting to escape and he fought to contain it. There was something else wrong too. Despite everything else, he still felt remarkably good. Then it hit him – his clothes were mended, his wounds were gone. If he wasn't so concerned about the fact that he'd performed such a blatant act of sorcery in front of Arthur, he might even be impressed – if he could remember what on earth he had actually done to achieve this.

"Then how exactly has my body healed?" asked Merlin dubiously. Did the prince really not suspect him? He sounded like he was hinding something from him and he needed to hear Arthur's explanation before he could rest easy. His stomach was churning and Merlin wasn't sure whether it was magic or nerves, but he masked his discomfort well. "I had so many holes you could have used me to strain the greens," he continued.

Arthur shrugged. "How should I know how the twisted mind of a sorceress works?"

"So you're not… mad at me then?"

No, Arthur wasn't mad. At least not at him.

He placed his hands firmly on Merlin's shoulders and looked him directly in the eye, ignoring the obvious tingling sensation he felt beneath his fingertips as he touched him. "Look, you didn't hurt me and nothing that happened was your fault. Understand? You haven't done anything and everything is going to be fine," he said confidently. I promise I'll find out what she's done to you and make her put it right.

Merlin's eyebrows narrowed in confusion but he nodded. Then he looked as if he was about to be sick. As Merlin doubled over, Arthur grimaced slightly at the thought of imminent vomit, but kept one arm round Merlin as he took a step to one side. However, instead of what he'd been expecting, a shower of golden sparks streamed out of Merlin's retching mouth and took on the majestic form of a dragon, which flew high into the moonless sky before dissipating in a shimmering cloud of glowing ember. Arthur was speechless and couldn't deny that despite the possible harmful implications for Merlin, his views on magic and his experiences with one particular dragon, it was a rather dazzling sight – unsettling, very unsettling – but dazzling all the same.

Merlin looked up, shockingly aware of what he had just done and Arthur shook himself back to reality. Merlin was waiting for his reaction and Arthur wasn't sure what response to give. He couldn't cover up the fact that this curse, or bewitchment, or whatever it was, hadn't gone away any longer, and that one way or another that meant Merlin now possessed some form of magic – although from what he'd seen he clearly didn't have any control. Given that this was someone who hadn't yet mastered control of the four limbs he was born with, this was a frightening prospect. It would most likely twist round and bite him at the first opportunity, that was how magic worked. Merlin with magic; it defied logic, but despite what Arthur might frequently tell himself, Merlin was not a complete idiot – he knew what was wrong with him, and now he knew that he knew.

"Arthur."

If my father knew, he'd have a fit, Arthur thought, and a large part of him could see his point. But Merlin hadn't chosen this, he was clearly a victim and he hadn't hurt anybody. Arthur glanced at his gloved hand; well, not deliberately. Merlin wouldn't hurt a fly – a rabbit, maybe – but never a fly, and it wasn't as if he was a danger to others out here in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't in the wrong and he shouldn't be punished.

"Arthur."

But what to say to him? What do you say to someone when they've suddenly been changed into something they're not? Arthur didn't even know that this was possible, but he'd seen the evidence with his own eyes and now Merlin had too. Other people were a mystery to him. What must Merlin be thinking right now? Arthur knew how to deal with magical creatures – you killed them, simple as that – but dealing with Merlin like this was a situation that he wasn't cut out for, and he knew it. The usual rules didn't seem to apply.

"Sire."

Conveniently, for Arthur at least, he was spared making a response when Merlin unexpectedly clutched at his forehead and teetered on the spot, his eyes briefly blazing gold again before rolling back in his head. Obviously this magic was still affecting him badly. Arthur caught him as he collapsed on his shoulder.

After reassuring himself that Merlin was merely unconscious and that the risk of spontaneous combustion was minimal, Arthur pushed him off and carried him to the horse, draping his limp friend over the animal's back. Maybe this effect would wear off soon, only time would tell, but until then there was only one course of action available. As much as Arthur loathed the idea of marching into the lion's den with the lion's unfinished dinner on a platter, he knew that if Merlin didn't recover on his own, the only way to find help was to get to Heolstor as planned, and hope that his negotiation skills were good enough.