Past and Present Danger

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, they were much appreciated. Just to say that I don't have a set time for updating, it will really depend on what's going on. But I know how annoying it is when you have to wait weeks for updates, so I will aim, as far as I can, to update at least once a week. Enjoy the next chapter and reviews would be lovely.

Chapter 2

Merlin was aware that his head hurt before he was aware of anything else. It felt like there was a torch alight in his mind, burning through his thoughts and memories. He winced and gasped as he moved slightly, but was relieved to feel the pain lessening somewhat. With that sensation diminished, he was able to take in his surroundings more fully. He knew that he was not comfortable, that was for sure. His back felt like it was resting on a tree root, making it arch unnaturally and as he reached his hand behind his head, he felt something sticky matting his hair. He groaned and slowly rolled onto his front, his back screaming protest.

He pushed himself up with his hands, feeling the damp ground beneath him, smelling the grass as it brushed along his arms. Finally he opened his eyes to find himself in the clearing. Morgana was nowhere to be seen -he fleetingly remembered her vanishing after her spell had back fired- and the clearing was empty of any light or doorway to the past as far as Merlin could tell. The spheres that had held her and the young versions of himself and Arthur were gone and, from what he could make out in the moonlight, the horses were standing in the middle of the clearing eating grass. He admired their loyalty to their respective masters.

Casting about the ground, he spotted Arthur lying someway over to his right, looking equally uncomfortable in the position he had landed, but Merlin was reassured by the steady rise and fall of the King's chest. As quickly as he could, which wasn't very fast due to how disorientated he felt, Merlin moved over until he was at Arthur's side, shaking him gently.

'Arthur,' he whispered. The man didn't move for a few seconds, but on being shaken again, his eyes opened with a stifled groan. He opened his mouth to say something but gasped in pain as he tried to sit up. After taking a few moments to remain still, he tried again.

'What did you do?' he asked sharply.

'Things never change do they? A thank you would be nice.'

'Thank you for what? For getting me thrown into a tree; for setting off an explosion?' Arthur looked at him incredulously. He began to shake his head, but seemed to think better of and settled instead for glaring at Merlin.

'For stopping Morgana from killing us both.'

'Oh,' Arthur said, as if everything had become clear, 'so that's what you did. Sorry, I must've missed that when my back impacted with a tree.' He pushed himself to his feet, slowly, but with determination. 'Honestly, Merlin. There was no point saving our younger selves if you were just going to kill us in the present anyway.'

'You are so ungrateful,' Merlin muttered as he allowed Arthur to help him up as well until they were both standing, albeit doubled over and grimacing in pain.

'So what did you do?' Arthur asked, more gently this time.

'Oh, you've finished insulting me have you? Want to know the rest of the story, now?' He sighed and shook his head indignantly. The petty side of him wanted to just leave the King guessing, but he had spent so long having to hide the fact that he had saved the day in the past that now he couldn't resist letting people know when he had.

'Yes actually. Are our young selves…?'

'Safe? Yes,' Merlin nodded with confidence. 'Back in their own times, probably a little confused as to what happened. But apart from that fine. I'll be helping my mother around the house doing the chores. You'll be…' he faltered and stood up straight, 'ordering servants around, beating up other rich children and being told how wonderful you are.'

'Do you really think that's what I did when I was a child?' Arthur asked straightening up and looking at Merlin like he was an idiot.

'Enlighten me then: what did you do?' Merlin couldn't help the grin from creeping onto his face as he watched Arthur open his mouth to answer before very quickly closing it again, evidently finding nothing to counter Merlin's guesses. Merlin gave him a few more seconds to come up with some other less obnoxious activities that he took part in as a child, but nothing was forthcoming. 'Like I said,' Merlin continued, 'ordering servants around, beating up other rich children and being told how wonderful you are.'

'Shut up, Merlin.'

'Don't you want to hear the rest?'

'Not if you're going to be this cocky.'

'I learnt from the best,' Merlin replied. Arthur gave him a withering look. 'Anyway…it was you that gave me the idea. You reminded me about all the protective charms I've put on us over the last year and a half. I didn't have time to put any onto our young selves, but magic sort of…' he cast about trying to think of an explanation, '..adheres to a person, it can recognise individuals, that doesn't fade over time. So I just transferred our enchantments onto our young selves. The sphere let the magic through because it wasn't attacking it in any way.'

'So when Morgana tried to kill them with a spell-'

'Our young selves were protected against it. The spell backfired on Morgana, shattering her concentration so that she couldn't sustain the doorway anymore, meaning that the link to the past was cut and everyone ended up back where they should be.'

Merlin grinned as he finished, awaiting Arthur's response. The King looked wholly unimpressed.

'I suppose you want praise for that do you?' Merlin's grin faltered and he frowned.

'Well it wouldn't kill you to be a bit grateful.' Arthur held his gaze for several seconds before his face smoothed out and he gave Merlin a warm smile.

'Well done, my friend. You've saved us again.' He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder and squeezed it before patting him on the back. 'Let's go home.' They walked over to where the horses were grazing. 'What of Morgana?'

'From what I saw,' Merlin replied, 'she hit herself with a very powerful spell; she didn't look happy or healthy when she disappeared.'

'So we don't have to worry about her for now?'

'No, which is a good thing considering that we don't have any magical protection on us at the moment,' Merlin smiled. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, pulling Merlin to a stop beside him.

'What?'

'Well…' Merlin frowned at him, wasn't it obvious? 'I just told you I put all our enchantments onto our younger selves. The magic was completely transferred. Don't worry though, I'll just start again. I'll do it now if you want.' He held out his hand towards Arthur.

'Forbecce innanearm fram bealusíð.'

'No, Merlin-' Arthur gave a sigh and let him finish.

'What? Might as well start as soon as possible.'

'What are we meant to do until then? I assume Morgana knows what you did.'

'Probably.'

'Well what if she chooses to attack?'

'Arthur, she was so weak. I don't think she'll be doing anything of much power for a while. Besides I'll put enough wards in place that if she does try anything –and it'll be weak whatever it is- they'll keep us from harm for now,' Merlin assured him. Arthur nodded. Merlin grinned at him.

'What now?' Arthur asked in exasperation.

'Who'd have thought that one day you'd be terrified at the prospect of not having magic spells on you.'

'I am not terrified,' Arthur told him, snatching the reigns that Merlin was holding out to him and swinging up into the saddle. 'I just want to make sure our defences are sound.'

'Whatever you say, Sire.' Merlin murmured. Arthur heard him and clipped him on the back of the head as he got into his saddle.

'Ow,' Merlin winced as Arthur's hand connected with his injury. He turned round to see Arthur staring at the blood on his hand and looking relatively apologetic.

'You'll have to get Gaius to take a look at that when we get back,' he said as way of apology.

'Thanks for that Arthur, that hadn't crossed my mind at all,' he returned, still scowling as he clicked Halesha into a slow trot. It didn't take long for him to forget his irritation, however, as thoughts of the night's events took his attention.

'I'll have to work out how she did all this,' Merlin called to Arthur, his eyes on the trees up ahead. 'She must have been planning for months.' He frowned as he considered what the spell must have involved. Not only had she found away of pushing through time, but she'd also managed to use natural magic to highly enhance her own. Merlin had never tried anything like that; that sort of magic was too changeable, to foreign, compared to how sorcerers used magic.

'Merlin.'

'Don't worry, I'll figure it out,' Merlin assured him.

'Merlin,' Arthur called again. 'You said that everybody was back in the right time.'

'I know, beating up rich children, orderin-'

'Merlin!' This time it was a yell and Merlin pulled Halesha to a stop. He turned to look back and saw that Arthur hadn't moved; he wasn't even facing the way they were going. In confusion, Merlin cantered back to where Arthur sat on his horse, watching some spot off to the left. 'You said that everybody was back in the right place and time.'

'Which they are,' Merlin replied. 'Arthur what-' But then he saw what had so captured the King's attention. On the edge of the clearing, but gradually stumbling closer, were two children, the same two children that had been floating a metre above the ground in a sphere not long ago, the same two children that Merlin had seen in the vision that had consumed him as he got closer to the clearing, the same two children that Morgana had just tried to kill. Arthur turned to look at him, disbelief and fury in his eyes.

'Then who the hell are they?' Even Merlin couldn't bring himself to reply with a witty comment.

'This isn't good,' he whispered.

Arthur resisted the very strong urge he had to knock Merlin off his horse there and then, injured or not, and just be done with it. Yes, admittedly, he had just saved both their lives and their entire histories, but there were limits to what Arthur could put up with from Merlin's magic, and seeing two children walking towards him, who most definitely were not meant to be here and who most definitely were the younger versions of himself and Merlin was cutting it pretty close to what Arthur could put up with.

'Merlin,' he growled through his teeth. Merlin at least had the sense to look sheepish.

'Sire, I-'

'Don't,' Arthur warned him.

'What?'

'Do not start calling me, Sire, because then I know it's bad.'

'Arthur,' Merlin began again, swallowing loudly. 'I'm not sure exactly how…' he began to tail off and Arthur fixed him with what he hoped was a murderous stare. From the way Merlin shrank back slightly he was sure he had achieved his goal.

Arthur glanced up again and saw, to his dismay, that the children had spotted them. From this distance and in the dull light, it was impossible to tell which child was which, but a few seconds later one of them began to make straight for them.

'Here you come,' Merlin whispered.

'You can't tell if that's me or you.'

'Trust me, that child walking towards us with his head in the air and swinging his arms is you.'

'In case you hadn't noticed, you swing your arms a lot more than I do when you walk,' Arthur retorted, realising how pathetic his words sounded.

'Yes, but I don't walk up to complete strangers, at night, in the middle of nowhere when I'm six years old. I stand back and wait to see what happens,' he replied, raising his hand and pointing at the second boy, who had only moved a few faltering steps closer.

'Have you always been such a wimp?' Arthur asked him pointedly.

'Have you always been such an arrogant prat?' Merlin snapped back just as quickly. Arthur shook his head.

'What are we going to do Merlin? If they're here, now, then what about our past? What happens to the last twenty odd years?'

'I don't know-'

'Who are you?' a small, but defiant voice interrupted. Both Arthur and Merlin turned their attention to the young boy in front of them, who was undoubtedly Arthur junior. Arthur couldn't help the strange chill that swept over him at the sight of himself from all those years ago. The boy was still several steps away, but his arm was raised, pointing accusingly at Merlin and then Arthur. He was confident, that was for sure. His hand didn't tremble and his eyes were narrowed into a frown. The clothes he wore were of the finest fabrics. Dark breeches covered his legs and leather shoes were on his feet. His red jacket was emblazoned with the golden lion of Camelot. Around his waist was a brown belt which was studded with gold buttons and attached to it, much to Arthur's amusement, was the pretend sword that he had kept by his side night and day before he was given his first real training one at the age of eight. The boy's short blonde hair bounced slightly with his firm strides, but even from here, Arthur could see that his cheeks, which were much chubbier than Arthur ever remembered them being, were red. Whatever the front this child was putting forward, he was scared.

'I asked you who you are,' the boy demanded for a second time. Arthur glanced over at Merlin, but promptly looked away at the Warlock's highly amused expression. He clearly couldn't wait to see how Arthur handled his younger self.

'I know that you are Prince Arthur of Camelot,' Arthur answered instead.

'I don't want to know who I am, I want to know who you are. I'm the Prince and you need to do as I ask.'

'I can't think who he reminds me of,' Merlin murmured from beside Arthur.

'Shut up, Merlin,' Arthur snapped, his hand lifting ready to push Merlin off his horse if the man uttered another word.

'Merlin,' the boy said, seizing upon the name and fixing his attention on the warlock. 'You must take me back to Camelot at once.'

'Try asking nicely and I might think about it,' Merlin replied. Arthur rolled his eyes. Did nothing ever change?

'How dare you! My father will put you in the dungeons for that.'

'Merlin, leave him alone,' Arthur told him, finally giving into temptation and pushing Merlin gently off his saddle, making sure that it wasn't enough force to send him flying, before dismounting himself. 'He's six years old.'

'I'm seven!'

Arthur ignored him and turned to Merlin again. 'Go and talk to…' he gestured towards where the second boy still lingered. '…yourself. I'll deal with Arthur.'

'You can't deal with me. I am the prince of Camelot.'

'Suits me,' Merlin nodded and headed off towards the frightened child a few hundred metres away. Arthur turned back to the furious child that now stood staring accusingly at him.

'Look, Arthur,' Arthur said gently, crouching down until he was eye level with the boy. The boy scowled at him further.

'How do you know my name?'

'It's complicated, but you need to know that we are not going to hurt you.'

'But you've kidnapped me. My father will send out his knights and you'll be arrested.'

'No, we won't,' Arthur replied calmly. 'Because this isn't the Camelot you remember, not yet anyway,' he mused to himself.

'What?'

'Your father isn't King in this Camelot.'

'But this is my Camelot!' the boy replied, angry again now as panic began to set in.

'Arthur,' Arthur tried again, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, but they were shrugged off viciously as his young counterpart tried to make a break for it. With a sigh, Arthur ran after him and easily caught up, swinging him off his feet and carrying him back to the horses.

'Get off me!' he screamed, reigning blows down on Arthur, reaching for his pretend sword. 'I'm the prince!'

'And I'm the King!' Arthur told him forcefully, 'So you will do as I say.'

At those words, the boy stopped struggling, but his gaze became even fiercer.

'You're lying, my father is the King. I've never even seen you before.'

Arthur lifted the boy up and sat him on the horse, keeping one hand on his wrists and the other on his feet, knowing that the first thing he'd do otherwise was kick Arthur in the face.

'I've told you; this isn't your Camelot. This is my Camelot. I'm King Arthur.'

'There isn't a King Arthur.'

'Not yet for you, but one day there will be.'

For the first time, the boy seemed to be genuinely considering what was being said.

'You're lying,' he whispered, but all of his earlier confidence had evaporated.

'No, I'm not. Something has gone wrong and you're not meant to be here, but we will find a way to send you back to your Camelot, back to your father.' Eventually the boy nodded.

Arthur turned round to see Merlin and…Merlin walking towards the horses. The warlock had his hand on the boy's shoulder and the boy's fingers were fisted in his jacket. Arthur looked down at where he still gripped his young self by the wrists and ankles. With an apologetic nod he let go.

Merlin willingly left Arthur to deal with the truly obnoxious prince. It seemed that six year old Arthur had set the tone for adult Arthur. Over the last few years, Arthur hadn't been quite as impolite to Merlin as he had been when they initially met and most of the insults that were hurled between them nowadays held no weight at all, but seeing him as a six year old it was easy to reconcile the servant-bullying royal prat that he'd met on his first day in Camelot.

At hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Arthur chasing his young self across the clearing, before deftly catching him and carrying him back. A laugh escaped Merlin's lips and he shook his head before turning back to his child self, who by now was only a few metres away. He looked ready to bolt at any moment, and Merlin half expected to have to repeat Arthur's actions and give chase, but then, to his surprise, the boy took a step forward. Merlin slowed to a stop, allowing the boy to come to him.

He couldn't help but marvel at what he saw. Dark hair was being tousled slightly by the wind, while big and frightened eyes looked at him, not bothering to hide their fear. The boy was dressed in what could only be described as rags and even Merlin was shocked at how thin he seemed. His feet were covered with soft cloth dressings and around his neck he wore a patched and thinning neckerchief. Merlin smiled at him fondly. He seemed encouraged by this and took a few more steps forwards.

'Do you know how I got here?' the boy asked, his voice quiet.

'Sort of, I'm trying to work out how to send you back.' He knelt down on the floor, making himself look as unthreatening as possible. This seemed to work and the boy edged forward.

'I know all about you,' Merlin said gently. He knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing, for the boy's eyes went wide and he backed up.

'Please, it isn't my fault. I can just use it, I didn't learn or anything.'

'What?' Merlin asked, before understanding hit him. 'No, no, don't worry. That's not what I mean. And besides, look.' He snapped his fingers and muttered the incantation needed to produce a small flame in his hand. 'I'm the same as you.'

The boy's eyes went wider still, but in amazement this time. He rushed forward and studied the flame intently, slicing his fingers through the air above it.

'Can you teach me?'

'You want to learn?' At the question the boy shook his head guiltily and stepped back.

'My mother wouldn't wa-'

'Look, æledfýr.' Merlin repeated the spell, ignoring the boy's protest. Tentatively, but with barely concealed enthusiasm, his young self tried to do the same. It took several attempts and more than once Merlin had to help him with the pronunciation, but eventually a small flame hovered above each of their palms. The boy smiled up at him.

'You'll be safe here,' Merlin assured him.

'Where are we?'

'In Camelot, but…' he quickly went on at the boy's look of panic, '…not your Camelot, this Camelot is friendly towards magic. I'm the Court Sorcerer.'

'But my mother told me-'

'I know what she told you, Merlin-'

'You know my name?' he frowned.

'Yes, and I know that you live in Ealdor and have a best friend called Will. I know that you accidentally knocked down the oak tree by Old Tom's cabin last year and I know you're afraid of the dark.'

'How?'

'Can you work it out? Look at me and then look at you.'

Merlin watched transfixed as the boy's forehead furrowed in concentration. He looked at Merlin, really looked at him, he even reached out and touched his face and then suddenly his face smoothed out and an amazed expression formed on it.

'You're me. You're me when I'm old.'

'Well, older,' Merlin suggested.

'You've gone backwards in time, to when you were six…or when I'm six,' he said in awe.

'Not exactly. It's more that you've gone forwards.'

'Me, but…how?'

'Someone, a bad witch, was trying to hurt me, by hurting you. I managed to stop her, but things didn't quite work out how I'd planned.'

The boy looked at him as if deciding whether he should trust this stranger, who might possibly be as far from a stranger as you could get.

'If you're me, then you won't hurt me.'

'No, of course not.'

'And you've got magic,' he whispered the last word, 'so you can send me back home soon.'

'Yes,' Merlin nodded, unsure of whether he was lying.

The boy frowned again, but eventually nodded his head.

'I don't think mother would mind me staying with you for a bit.'

'I don't think she would either,' Merlin agreed. 'So are you ready to go and meet my friend and his younger self?'

'Yes, I think so. Who is your friend?'

'His name's Arthur. He's the King of Camelot.' At his side the boy gawked at him, his mouth wide open.

'You're friends with the King?'

'Most of the time,' Merlin nodded. He put a hand on the shoulder of his young self and gently began to steer him back towards the horses. Without noticing it happening, Merlin suddenly realised that the boy had grabbed a fistful of his clothes and was holding on for dear life. He gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze and smiled reassuringly at him. Up ahead, Arthur gave him a nod, which Merlin returned. All they could do now was return to the city and hope that they could put everything right again. Deep down Merlin had a feeling that it would be far from easy.

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