A/N To those who already noticed I did not provide a name for the suspect guard in chapter 9, I have replaced the chapter with the change. Also I have armed my knights with stun guns instead of knives, which I am more comfortable with in this situation (where the guards are not necessarily enemies).
Thanks to everyone who reassured me on the technical aspects of this plot! Please feel free to message me if something doesn't feel cohesive!
Chapter 10: An Hour in the Dark
Friday night. Or rather, early Saturday morning. The green digital clock in the middle of the dashboard of Percival's Silverado read 2:22, lighting up the side of the big knight's face as he drove through the dark Virginia countryside. Arthur rode shotgun, tapping his right-hand ring absently on the door-armrest. Percival slid a cd into the player, for background noise to ease the tension, without being a distraction.
Unfortunately for Arthur, a distraction was what it was. The opening music was familiar, but when Johnny Cash began the lyrics, Arthur froze mid-tap. I will drink the cup/ the poison overflowing… He resisted the urge to turn around to look at Merlin. No one would know the significance of those words but the two of them alone. I will lift you up… the song continued… Watch over where you're going…
My spirit aches, I can't stop this river flowing/ In fear I take each labored breath I draw in knowing/ That this could be my last, my final hour/ But faith and hope and love give me the power… for you…
Yea, though I walk, Johnny Cash said in his gravelly sad voice, through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me… for you are with me… Arthur shivered, and wished he could order Merlin to cheer the hell up. I'll be your salvation though the storm surrounding/ There on our own conditions, lay my body down/ In the wake abandon willing sacrifice/ I'll walk through the canyon bring the shadows light…
Arthur gritted his teeth til the cd switched to a new song. Merlin might just as well have shouted out that he was planning on protecting them all with his own life. It won't be that kind of mission, he wanted to say.
Behind them on the bench seat of the extended cab, Gwaine in the middle was looking over the map of the site, printed out from satellite imagery Elyan had emailed. After Arthur had explained their plan to Gwen, she had volunteered her brother to obtain the best visuals possible, and Arthur had to admit, Elyan had really come through. Detailed aerial photos of a ten-mile radius, topography and infrared over a twenty-hour time span, which allowed them a clear idea of the guards' routines and positions at any given time. Arthur thought that each of the siblings privately must have wished that they could be there, for their own reasons.
I'm safe in the eye of the storm, the next song claimed. Arthur recognized Rascal Flatts. Oh the dreams I've seen tattered and torn/ Just when I think I can't take any more/ You give me shelter and never will I be alone/ Hold me closer and help me to find my way home…
Beside Gwaine, Leon shifted the black duffel bag containing the equipment they'd need, courtesy of Percival and Gwaine and a few of their mates, a mix of military and police gear.
Cause it's a long road, through the darkest of nights… Directly behind Arthur on the passenger side, Merlin was silent and motionless. High is this mountain I climb/ Deep is this river of time/ Sometimes I'll stumble but you're there to remind me/ You're standing right there beside me… Arthur wondered if Merlin was actually listening, or not.
"Sgt. MacKenzie" came on, bagpipes skirling through the quiet of the cab. For a moment Arthur let himself relax in the shrill unfamiliarity of the instrument, but then the vocals began, Lay me doon in the caul caul groon… whaur afore monie maur huv gaun…*
"Not that one!" Arthur barked, and could have sworn that all four jumped. He might have laughed, in other circumstances. Neither he nor Percival touched the controls, but the cd clicked and ended.
Percival put his boot on the brake, and the Silverado rolled onto a gravel access road two miles from the drones' hangar site – a place where a gradual rise and a smoothed ridge hid them from the hangar, and the trees would provide cover from the road. "We're here," he said unnecessarily, opening his door enough to turn the dome light on.
Leon unzipped the duffel, handing round the black-and-olive grease paint. Percival and Arthur used the drop-down mirrors in the front-seat sun-visors, while Gwaine and Leon shared a small hand mirror to check the coverage of the paint.
"Here," Gwaine said, taking Merlin's tube and turning the teenager's face to finish for him, the rough knight's fingers gentle on the bruises.
"Makes a helluva change from red cloaks," Percival remarked, and Leon snorted.
Merlin, who probably didn't get the joke, said quietly to Gwaine, "Gavin, have you ever been shot?" The silence in the cab of the Silverado was deafening. Arthur held his breath.
"Once," Gwaine said easily. Percival and Arthur both turned around to stare at their friend. Then again, Gwaine had come to the Round Table with something of a history the first time – they all had, really.
"Where?" Merlin said.
"In a Walmart parking lot." Gwaine grinned, knowing that he hadn't answered the intended question. "Hurt like hell. There – you're done." Merlin shot a quick glance at Arthur, who almost smiled at the sight of Merlin's blue eyes so wide and bright in his paint-darkened face, except for the fact that Merlin was genuinely anxious.
Exiting the vehicle, they shut the doors quietly, made their way to the back tailgate area to don Kevlar vests and lightweight gloves, stun guns in holsters on their belts. Gwaine flipped Merlin's before handing it to him. "You know to use the sharp end, right?" he said with a smile in his voice.
"The A-team," Percival said in his deep, serious voice, "wishes they were us."
Merlin didn't respond, readjusting his satchel over the camo-covered body armor.
"Pete and Gavin, your whistles," Leon said. "Arthur, the paint… the rest is mine – Merlin, you have what you need? Let's test the radios." The knights double-checked to be sure that each earpiece and collar-mounted mic was working, though they had already done so before leaving Gwaine's apartment.
"It's two thirty-five," Arthur said, checking his watch. "Back here in one hour. Contingency, seven-thirty at Gwaine's. If we lose contact, no phones til four-thirty, earliest." He paused a moment to meet everyone's eye in the moonlight, wait for the confirming nod. Merlin's head remained down, and the knights exchanged uneasy looks until Arthur glared at them, reminding them that he was in charge of Merlin. "Peter, Gavin," he clasped each man's hand in turn, "Northeast and northwest." The two nodded, butted fists before disappearing into the trees in opposite directions, and Arthur was pleased and proud that he could hear neither after they were out of sight.
"All right," Arthur said to Leon and Merlin. "On me."
It was the first time he'd ever done anything like it – in this life, at least. He'd wanted to join ROTC in college, but Thomas Drake wouldn't hear of it. Maybe, he thought, slipping through the darkness tree to tree, ascending the gradual ridge, he should have taken karate, ju jitsu, knife-throwing. Equestrian and fencing lessons may have seemed the right thing for the former king of Camelot at sixteen years old, but at that moment, Arthur found himself wishing he'd been a little less romantic, and a little more practical.
In their earpieces, each heard Gwaine and Percival's quiet conversation as those two knights crept into position. "Seem too easy?" Percival murmured.
"Nah," Gwaine replied. "Half their defense is no one knowing it's here. More technology just draws attention."
"That's our luck," Leon whispered in the darkness behind Arthur.
He was pleased to see that old habits and training were still ingrained. He dropped lower as they reached the crest of the ridge, coming to rest on his belly. Below them they could see the floodlights on the small hangar, at each corner, and a smaller one over the door to one side. Merlin settled in beside him, slightly less clumsy than he had been on certain previous hunting trips, and Leon passed Arthur a spotting scope over Merlin's back. He dabbed a trickle of sweat off his temple onto his sleeve, careful of the grease paint, regretting the necessity of long-sleeve shirts in June, and scanned the area, seeing nothing to arouse suspicion. The guards and the dog were in the better-lit front area, one lounging in a camp chair, the other pacing with the leashed dog, a German Shepherd. And just below them down the gentle slope of the ridge, the southwest corner of the fence – eight electric strands five feet high, topped by three of barbed wire for good measure. Arthur noticed two small yellow triangles attached to the posts to warn of the voltage.
"Time?" Arthur whispered, the scope to his eye.
"Give them – seven minutes to start," Leon responded.
Merlin shifted in the leaves, bumping against Arthur's left side. Arthur turned to him. "What are you worried about?" he said. For a moment Merlin didn't answer, and Leon reached for the spotting scope again, to give the two friends some semblance of privacy for a brief conversation. "Don't you trust us to keep you safe?" His Merlin, magic Merlin, would have teased him about his weight or the level of mental agility any given knight could aspire to. Arthur now knew Merlin's sarcasm was for Arthur's claim of providing safety for the most powerful sorcerer in history, and meant to cover Merlin's own nervousness about the responsibility for their safety his power gave him.
Merlin said, "It's not that. I just – I never had friends before. I guess you could say I'm scared something might happen to one of you."
Silence, in the warm humid dark of the night. Arthur was touched – or knocked over, more like – by the admission. The feelings and instincts were essentially the same in the young man – but this Merlin chose to admit and reveal. Why? Reasons swirled through Arthur's mind, differences in childhood, upbringing and situation, differences the centuries themselves had brought about in what was culturally and socially acceptable.
The one thought that bothered Arthur deeply was, maybe it's me. Maybe Merlin's honesty was a response to Arthur's intentional kindness and regard. That meant the sorcerer's former deception was in response to –
"There go the whistles," Leon said, quietly, handing the scope to Arthur again. "Don't worry, Merlin, we know what we're doing. These vests are just a precaution. We don't expect any fighting. They probably won't know we've been here til we're gone."
Arthur checked the scene in front of him. The dog's ears were up, pointing first to the northeast, then flickering around to the northwest. Several moments passed as the guards noticed the dog's behavior and spoke to each other, finally seemed to laugh it off.
Then the furry heavily-muscled body lunged against the leash toward the eastern side of the fence. His handler held him back with an effort, speaking again to his companion, who shrugged, but sat forward in the camp chair. After another pause, wherein the dog relaxed under his handler's soothing, another inaudible alert drew the dog's attention forcibly to the north. The leash almost snapped from the man's hand. The second guard stood from the camp chair, placing a hand on his holstered sidearm. The two exchanged words, then the handler allowed the German Shepherd to pull him across the mown grass toward the northeast corner of the property.
"They're coming our way," Gwaine's whisper came to them through their earpieces. "We'll keep them occupied."
"Be careful," Arthur responded again, and signaled to his two companions.
Arthur, followed by Merlin and Leon, moved over the top of the ridge. Leon cut slightly to the left toward the southeast corner of the fence, where it would be easier to disrupt the electrical current. Arthur kept the guard in sight as the man stood with hands on hips, watching in the direction his fellow guard and the dog had gone. Arthur wondered idly if that man was Fred Acheson. The dog barked incessantly; Arthur hoped the other two would keep their heads down.
Beside him, Merlin crouched on one knee, while Leon worked to bypass the fence. Two steel rods, shoved firmly into the ground about a yard apart, then leaned against the same strand to ground the current, so the wire could be cut with wooden-handled wire cutters. Leon wore rubber gloves, and boots with thick rubber soles to steady the current-grounding rods. Taking each strand individually, and trapping the loose wires under the steel rods to one side, Leon soon had a gap big enough for them to pass through carefully one by one. "We're inside the fence," the former knight reported to Percival and Gwaine.
They made their way up the hill to the back of the hangar. Heart pounding, Arthur listened and heard nothing from the guard left at the front, though the barking of the German Shepherd was pretty clear from only fifty yards away. He leaned around the side of the hangar – still no guard in sight – and signaled to Leon, who passed him, taser in his hand. They ghosted along the side of the hangar, Leon in the lead, Merlin in the middle, and reached the access door. Leon leaned slightly away from the building to keep an eye on the guard out front, while Merlin knelt by the door to work on the electronic lock combination.
"Decker, whaddya see?" the guard shouted to his partner from beyond the corner of the building. Arthur, whose eyes were on Merlin, was proud to see the young sorcerer didn't even flinch at the sudden shout. He was fast, and he was quiet. Leon's body language indicated the nearest guard did not suspect their presence. The door slipped open, and Arthur pushed Merlin inside, following him and closing the door behind them. The racket the dog was making was instantly muffled.
Arthur knew from the building construction notes that the only window was a narrow vertical rectangle just above the access door's handle. Taking the can of black spray paint from the leg pocket of his black cargo pants, he shook it quickly and sprayed over the window til he could not longer see the outside light. Leon would monitor the guard and warn them if necessary – and no light would spill from the building to alert the guard.
It would also provide incontrovertible evidence that the drone hangar had been broken into.
Merlin flicked the light switch, and Arthur turned, blinking in the sudden overhead glare.
The hangar was empty. Except for one sleek white drone in the far corner, looking like a fantastically imagined paper airplane half the size of Arthur's Mustang, held two feet off the ground by a three-pronged stand. Five other stands in the hangar held nothing but air.
"Where are they?" Merlin whispered. "There are supposed to be six?" He snatched his laptop from his satchel and huddled over it on the concrete floor to free his fingers for more of his rapid typing, ripping off his black gloves with his teeth – though he also wore a pair of surgical gloves underneath to keep from leaving fingerprints.
"Have they been moved?" Arthur whispered back, approaching the UAV. "Maybe for Monday's test?"
After ten seconds of flurried keystrokes, Merlin's hands froze. "If they have been, it wasn't by official order," he reported, sounding frightened. "Stolen, you think?"
Arthur gritted his teeth. Yes, probably – but by who? No one willing to steal such a thing from such a place wanted a backyard toy. And how? Sneaking in for a quick look like they were doing was one thing, but these drones didn't exactly fit in a back pocket. How could a theft be accomplished with no report from the guards, at least? Did they even know it was gone? Arthur studied the last drone – left, presumably, so Monday's test could continue as planned. Although, what would happen when the truck arrived for pick up and transfer, and the other five drones were discovered to be missing?
"Gaius said these are single-target assassin drones, right?" Arthur said, turning to frown at the young sorcerer, still kneeling on the concrete, laptop forgotten as its owner stared somewhat vacantly at the drone. Arthur knew that look. He'd learned that instead of absent-minded forgetfulness he'd often teased Merlin about, that look meant the wheels inside were turning a mile a minute. Merlin grunted. "Then what the hell is this for?" Arthur touched the drone carefully.
Tucked under one wing, constructed and painted to appear as an integral part of the drone, four tubes connected in a square shape, each three inches in diameter, each with a pointed nosecone like a rocket.
Merlin leaped up with laptop in hand, brushed past Arthur without apology to scramble underneath the drone. He eased open an access panel under the craft's belly, extracted a connective cable from his satchel, and plugged his laptop into a port in the drone. He held the laptop between his knees so he could type and watch the screen even lying on his back.
"Hell fire," Merlin whispered.
"What is it?" Arthur said.
Merlin's eyes moved from his laptop screen to the cluster of tubes – and fear shone from eyes made brighter by the mix of olive and black paint darkening Merlin's skin. His hand shook as he disconnected the cord with extreme care, and he clutched the laptop to his chest, making no move to rise.
In that moment, the clamor of the German Shepherd changed tenor, as a short pop sounded, echoing oddly in their earpieces. They heard Gwaine hiss, "Get out – oh, sh-" and the former knight's mic cut out to a stuttering of muffled pops, accompanied by somewhat clearer shouts from the guard remaining at the hangar.
"Is that –" Merlin said.
"Gunfire," Arthur finished. "Do we have what we need?" Merlin nodded, and Arthur yanked his friend clear of the drone. He bundled the laptop into Merlin's satchel, snagged the gloves from the floor, and shoved Merlin to the door. Snapping off the lights, he eased the door open.
"Decker!" the guard shouted, obviously trying to communicate with the partner who was discharging his firearm, without leaving the immediate vicinity of the hangar. "Decker!"
Leon crouched slightly at his post at the corner of the building to make sure they remained undetected. The gunshots were louder out-of-doors, single shots, though, not coming in rapid-fire bursts, which relieved Arthur. Without taking his eyes from his watch, Leon motioned Arthur and Merlin to retreat.
"We're done," Arthur whispered, touching the button to transmit. "We're out. Gwaine, Perce – withdraw."
"Roger that," Percival replied, sounding tense. "Neither of us is hit. See you back at the truck."
One, then two more shots from the fifty-yard distant fence corner. The dog barked, yapping maniacally. Leon backpedaled along the side of the hangar, bumping into Merlin, who seemed slower and clumsier than he'd been all night, as if suddenly and inexplicably reluctant to leave. "Come on, move it!" Arthur hissed, and Leon elbowed the teenager out of the cover of the hangar, down the slope toward the gap in the fence.
"Decker!" The shout behind them seemed clearer, louder. Arthur dared not turn, barreling down toward the fence and making sure Merlin – who was trying to move forward and look over his shoulder at the same time – kept going in front of him.
"Decker! They're inside the fence!"
Leon bellowed, "Run!" The word seemed to hang in the air for an inordinate amount of time.
Someone – something – punched Arthur in the back with enough force to knock him off his feet. He flew forward, his shoulder grazing Merlin's as the sorcerer tried to catch him, break his fall, before his body slammed to the earth, accompanied by an abnormally loud CRACK! He wondered if he'd broken a bone. He tried to breathe around a face-full of yellowing field grass.
Shots were fired. Arthur shook his head to clear it, realizing Leon and Merlin were both standing targets – still inside the fence and a good twelve yards from the cover of the tree-lined ridge; neither of them would leave him behind even if he ordered it. Bad luck they were already out of range for Leon to fire his taser.
Maybe next time, he thought confusedly, they should go armed. A few warning shots might provide better cover for their departure.
Arthur rolled over. Leon knelt, fumbling to help Arthur regain his feet, searching his king's eyes, his face, for indication of a more serious injury. Arthur's ears rang – distant shouts, the dog howling… he noticed the stars were quite brilliant.
Merlin stood above them, one foot forward and one back, bracing himself, his arms out as if to embrace the scene before him.
Then the young sorcerer threw back his head and roared - Fury personified.
An eye-dazzling light lifted, bloomed over the hangar like a pyrotechnics display twenty feet off the ground. Arthur struggled to raise himself on his elbows as each of the five sets of lights illuminating the hangar exploded in a shower of radiant sparks. Smaller fireworks cracked along the fence as the wiring shorted. He put up one arm to shield his eyes from the painful brightness. The after-image etched onto his retinas made it harder to see once the sparks had fallen and died in the new blackness of the night. Bring the shadows light…
Arthur was yanked to his feet. He recognized Leon's voice, but understood no words. A patch of skin on his right hip burned – probably where he'd landed when he fell. His left arm throbbed in a strangely numb way.
"Go sire – now!" He understood Leon's words finally, loud in the abrupt silence of the night. Arthur turned to grab Merlin and force him bodily through the gap of the fence, Leon's breathing audible behind them.
In his ear he heard Gwaine, "Whatthehellwhatthehell…"
Leon responded, "We're all right. Get to the truck."
Merlin stumbled going up the ridge to the tree-line, scrambling awkwardly – and so slowly – on all fours. Leon passed Arthur and grabbed the collar of Merlin's flak vest, dragging him along to the cover of the trees.
At the top of the ridge, Arthur paused for a look back at the hangar site, but could see nothing – and hear nothing. No shouting. No barking.
Leon was making all the noise, crashing through the underbrush with Merlin in tow. Arthur sprinted after them and the three of them lurched almost drunkenly to the Silverado.
Not for the first time, and surely not for the last, Arthur was glad to have Leon there. The former knight crammed the last of their equipment into the black duffel bag – gloves, wire-cutters, spotting scope – and tossed it into the back of the truck. He helped Arthur out of his vest first; Arthur couldn't quite bite back a moan as the heavy armor pulled his left arm back, and Leon examined the vest before discarding it.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, running his hand down Arthur's back in the charcoal darkness. "I don't think you're bleeding."
"Just bruised, probably," Arthur said. As Leon turned his attention to removing his own vest, Arthur focused on Merlin, who'd propped himself against the truck, breathing hard through his nose and trembling.
"Let's get this off," Arthur said. "Percival and Gwaine will be here any minute." He unzipped his friend's vest, pulling it back so Merlin could shrug out of it. His friend hissed as his own left arm cleared the armor. "Are you bruised as well?" Arthur said lightly, forcing some amusement into his voice.
Merlin didn't answer, but bent nearly double, one hand fisted in the front of Arthur's shirt for support, and vomited violently and repeatedly.
"Arthur?" Leon said.
"It's all right," Arthur said to Merlin, comforting him but awkwardly, supporting his friend, who, shaking and disoriented, might otherwise have collapsed on the spot. "We're safe now."
"What happened?" Percival's voice demanded from the far side of the truck. A heavy metallic thunk told Arthur that the big knight had removed and stowed his own Kevlar.
"What was that?" Gwaine said, nearly on top of them before Arthur heard him, already carrying his own body armor, which he tossed into the truck.
"Get in," Leon said. "We can talk once we're away from here."
Percival started the engine. Gwaine helped Arthur steer Merlin into the second seat, then slammed the suicide door and took the shotgun position himself. Leon slid into the seat behind Percival, helping to keep Merlin upright.
The tires spun on the gravel, then they gained the road and sped away from the site. The cd played incongruously in the silence, but the sound was low enough no one remarked on it. When you are a soldier, I will be your shield/ I will go with you into the battlefield…
"I don't think he saw me," Gwaine broke the silence, glancing over at Percival. "I think he started shooting at shadows." And when the arrows start to fly/ take my hand and hold on tight…
Percival took one hand from the wheel to reach into a storage space in the center console. He took out a plastic packet and handed it to Gwaine, who snatched several cloths from the packet before tossing it back to Leon. The scent of baby powder filled the cab of the truck.
"Baby wipes?" Arthur said. When you're tired from running/ I will cheer you on/ Look beside you and you'll see you're not alone…
"Best thing to take off the paint," Gwaine answered. "What about you guys? Find out anything in the hangar?"
Arthur accepted the packet from Leon. The former king began to clean the black and olive grease from his former servant's face, as Merlin's hands lay limp in his lap. "Five of the six drones are gone," Arthur said, and the other three offered various exclamations of surprise.
When your strength is all but gone/ I'll carry you until you're strong… Merlin was still shivering under Arthur's hands, despite the physical exertion in the warm summer night. His eyes were only half-open, his breath hissing between clenched teeth. He began to slide toward Leon, but when the knight nudged Merlin back upright, the young sorcerer let out a gasp of pain, his eyes flaring open briefly.
"Percival, the light!" Arthur commanded at the same time as Leon said, "Arthur, he's hurt."
"Merlin – you all right?" Gwaine said, turning in his seat. Percival flipped on the dome light.
Merlin moaned as Leon examined him, his head dropping back against the rear window. "His arm is bleeding," the knight announced, and ripped Merlin's sleeve right off the shirt. Arthur leaned forward – crimson streaks marred the white skin of Merlin's arm, dripped down his elbow.
"How bad?" Arthur said. When you're lost in darkness I will hold the light/ I will help you find your way through the night…
"Not very. It's just a graze," Leon answered, applying the torn sleeve to Merlin's bicep as a bandage.
"Now we have something in common, mate," Gwaine said, slapping Merlin's knee lightly. "Hurts like hell, doesn't it?"
Merlin said, "Arthur," and inhaled sharply, then slumped sideways onto Arthur, the weight of his head and body sending shock-waves of pain through Arthur's left side. He held on to his friend grimly.
"That was him, wasn't it?" Percival said into the shocked, uncertain silence. "That – storm of electricity."
When no one else answered – "Yes," Leon said. "Arthur had been shot –"
"What?" Gwaine all but shouted.
The truck swerved minutely. Percival demanded, "Arthur was shot?"
His shoulder. "The vest stopped the bullet," Leon explained calmly. "But he was down, and that guard was still shooting. Merlin did what he had to do." Just like he always does.
Arthur said, "Leon, I promised Gwen I'd let her know that we were safe. And can you call Gaius? We should take Merlin there, first thing. Gwaine, when we get back, you monitor the reports coming in to Camelot from the hangar site."
"I can't," Leon said, making no move for the cell phone in his pocket. "My phone is fried – just about melted. I'd be very much surprised if yours is in any better shape, sire. Gwaine might have been far enough away that his is still usable, though."
Arthur thought of the burning sensation he'd felt on his right hip – right where he kept his phone. Steven Curtis Chapman kept singing, though Merlin had lost consciousness… I'll remind you of the truth/ And keep the flame alive in you…
"I'll make the calls," Gwaine said, taking his phone out.
Arthur felt for the pulse in Merlin's neck. It fluttered like a panicky moth, then slowed to a sluggish chug…chug…chug.
No, Arthur told him fiercely. You're not going anywhere.
I will be your shield… when you are a soldier…
*Rough translation: "Lay me down in the cold cold ground, where before many more have gone…" a WWII song from the viewpoint of a soldier already dead. (We Were Soldiers soundtrack – you can probably tell I was listening to it while writing this chapter – but it was so perfect!)
A big cookie pie to those who get the Shawn Mullins reference. And credit to Revolution for the dog-whistle idea.
Special thanks to my 'regular' reviewers! You know who you are!
I noticed that not all symbols/letters I used in the text messages transferred when I uploaded…that's a small problem, I think you can still get the gist. And I am sorry to those who have trouble with this due to English language difficulties (that never occurred to me!) I can probably make the changes if it really has put anyone off.
To the guest reviewer from Dec.9, I find myself growing attached to this version of Merlin as Arthur is, also… so I keep putting off full memory recovery for him! I had intended for the 'real' Merlin to return some few chapters ago, but… gee, he's just so cute like this… and the more I have of this one, the harder it gets to reconcile the two personalities…hmm