Phew. Not too long since the last chapter was posted. Right?

Thank you so much to those who reviewed last chapter. It really means a lot that you've stuck with this story, even though I've treated you so poorly. I assure you, I will try my utmost from here on no never put you through such a long wait again. In fact, if you ever feel that you've been left waiting for too long, please feel free to bombard me with pms and torture until I post again.

Now, I hope you enjoy all that this chapter has in store. It would be slightly longer, but it just seemed to work that I stopped where I have.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin

Chapter 25

Arthur and Merlin turned around to see both Gwen and Kennard endeavouring to keep hold of a struggling Paige. Then, in that strange power possessed by children, she was free of their grips and past the Prince and the Warlock almost before anyone had a chance to react. Arthur made a futile grab for her as she dove past them, yelling her name at the same time as Merlin called out from beside him "No! He's dangerous!"

But the young girl paid them no heed. Instead, she stood just in front of Michael, her arms out wide in defence, and an expression on her face which suggested that she would fight them with all her might if they tried to lay even a finger on the fallen man.

Suddenly, before Arthur could quite figure out exactly what was going on, Michael had leapt up from where he lay, dumb-struck, twisted the young girl to face him, and pulled her into his arms. Arthur began to dart forward, only noticing once he had already taken a step forward that the ginger-haired man was not trying to either injure Paige or to hold her as a hostage. Instead, the older man had pulled her into one of the tightest hugs the young Prince had ever seen, his face screwed up in an expression of indescribable relief.

"You're safe," the man kept muttering, almost as though having to reassure himself that what he was saying was the truth. "You're safe." Then he pulled back, holding Paige at arms length and inspecting her from head to toe, before finally pulling her back into a firm embrace once more. As the young girl's body wracked with joyful sobs, he tightened his hold on her, staring up at the bemused group standing before him.

"What's going on?" He demanded. "Why is Aveline with you?"

Gwen's voice sounded from behind the dazed Prince. "Aveline? Is that her name? What is she to you?"

Michael glared at her. "Yes her name is Aveline. Now, tell me before I do something rash- why was my daughter with you?"

Silence. The word daughter swirled round and round inside Arthur's mind, and in the minds of his companions. Slowly, though, the meaning behind what Michael had said began to sink in, forming a nauseous feeling deep in the pit of the Blond's stomach. Before he could stop himself, a harsh laugh burst from his mouth.

"Daughter? I should have known!" His voice was increasing in volume and pitch, but Arthur suddenly found that he didn't particularly care. "What is it with you people?" He exclaimed. "What is it with villains and evil sorcerers? Do family ties mean absolutely nothing to you?" He was pacing now, memories of growing up with Morgana flying through his brain at break-neck pace, coupled with Merlin's description of how Morgause had once used her as the vessel for the sleeping spell. The frustration and worry he had felt over the past six months burst out in a torrent of jumbled emotions, until he almost sounded hysterical. "Why on Earth do you constantly insist on betraying those who believe in you? On putting them in obvious danger? I mean, if you know people are likely to kill a vessel in order to break a spell, surely the logical thing to do would be to put it on someone who isn't actually related to you! But no-!"

He was cut off abruptly by Merlin grabbing hold of his shoulders, the younger man's eyes boring into his own. A similar pain was mirrored in those eyes, and yet Merlin remained calm. And it was this calmness which forced the Prince's voice to catch, and his shoulders to slump slightly in defeat.

"Arthur," uttered the younger man. "I'm not entirely sure it's as simple as that."

For an instant, Arthur almost flew into another rage- the thought of people using their friends and family so harshly the one thing on his mind. But Merlin had always been somewhat more perceptive than the Prince where emotions were concerned.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur allowed his tumultuous thoughts to dispel into the surrounding air, drawing on some of his friend's strength. He still couldn't understand- much less accept- Michael's apparent cold-heartedness in placing his young daughter in such obvious danger, but he couldn't allow his emotions to negatively affect their mission. Squaring his shoulders, he turned back to face his other companions, and then towards the two on the floor, every ounce the stoic Prince once more.

"Explain," he ordered Michael. "And do it quickly- we don't have time."

For the first time, the older man took a proper look at the group of people crowed in front of him. He seemed to know easily enough who Arthur was, and a faint glimmer of recognition flicked across his eyes as they passed over Guinevere and Kennard. But when they reached Merlin, he simply stared, his brow furrowed slightly as though the young man before him was the greatest mystery he had ever encountered. In what seemed to be a complete disregard of the Prince's orders, he focused almost all of his attention on Merlin.

"Who are you?" He demanded. "What are you?"

Merlin's eyebrows raised in confused surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You-" began Michael. "You are no ordinary magic user- I have never encountered someone with a magic like yours. And I refuse to tell you a thing until I know what exactly you are."

It was only because Arthur knew Merlin as well as he did that he saw it. The slightest of inner flinches every time Michael used the word 'what.' A burst of protective anger rushed through his body.

"Would you stop referring to him as though he were some sort of creature?" He snapped. "Merlin is not-"

"Merlin?"

Everyone froze as the word erupted from Michael's mouth. And if he had been staring at Merlin before, it was nothing compared to the intently analysing look he was now focusing solely on the young Warlock. Ignoring the way Merlin shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the older man suddenly burst into a stream of accusations.

Michael could barely breathe. Had the weight of Aveline in his arms not felt so real, he almost would have thought that he was dreaming. But then reality came crashing down around him, and he had to keep himself from snorting derisively. There was no way that the gawky young man in front of him could be who the Prince was claiming he was. And now his anger had blazed into life, and he determined then and there to bring and end to this façade, before then bringing the imposter to his knees.

"You're claiming to be Merlin?" He demanded. "Impossible- that's impossible. Every magic user in the Kingdom knows that Merlin- that Emrys- is dead. It's the only reason half of us even agreed to go along with Morgause's ridiculous plan. And if Emrys was executed, then it's blatantly obvious that you can't be him, so if this is some sort of sick joke, or some way to try and distract me, then it's not going to work. Now who are you? Answer me!"

He stared with all his might into the younger man's eyes, watching as, for just a single brief moment, an almost indescribable amount of pain flickered through their startlingly blue depths. And then the imposter with the abnormal magic came forward, kneeling before him. And before Michael had a chance to pull away, the boy had placed a hand on either side of the sorcerer's head.

"It would probably be faster to just show you."

Almost as soon as the words had been uttered, a wave of... something burst from the younger man, rushing into Michael's head. Images danced before his eyes, the speech matching each one passing through his mind in such a torrential flow that he had no idea how the boy with the now-golden eyes was able to make it so that Michael could understand each one with perfect clarity. In those few seconds, he witnessed meetings with Dragons, and heard tales of destiny. He saw time after time when a gangly lad had saved a Prince's life, and experienced a tiny portion of understanding over the boy's overwhelming acceptance as he came to understand a little of the enormous wealth of power he held. He saw the battle of six months prior through the eyes of Camelot's defender, and felt the terror Merlin had felt as he stood upon the Pyre, his magic lashing out against his will to strike at those had tried to harm him. And last, but most certainly not least, he lived in those moments through the six months spent in a tiny cell, still protecting Camelot, before finally being set free to try to break the spell the two witch-sisters had set over the Kingdom he so dearly loved.

When Merlin finally drew his hands away, finally ending the eternity-seconds, Michael was left gasping for breath, his mind overwhelmed. There had been so much emotion in those memories- for what else could they have been but memories? So much protectiveness. So much love. So much pain. So many experiences. And so much power that Michael could only be glad that Merlin had only shown him a glimpse of it. If the boy had chosen to, Michael would have been burnt from the inside out in those moments. If the gangly, unassuming boy in front of him had wanted, he could bring the kingdom- the world- to it's knees before him. No-one else but Merlin could have held that amount of power and stayed the humble servant he had proven himself to be. It was no wonder that the right to wield it had been given to Merlin, and Merlin alone. For there was no other person who would ever live who could handle the burden and responsibility of being Emrys without being driven mad.

So? I hope it wasn't too OOC. If you think I deserve it, please let me know your thoughts XD