Past and Present Danger

A/N: This is a very long chapter. Was going to split it, but decided it'd be alright as it was. Thanks very much for the reviews!

Chapter 7

Slamming the door behind him, Arthur stormed into his quarters, only remembering that Guinevere was still in bed when she let out a startled yelp. He cursed his own insensitivity and muttered an apology to her, before walking over to the bed and sitting on it, his head bowed low and his hands draped uselessly across his knees.

'Arthur?' she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position and moving over to him, putting a hand on both of his shoulders and rubbing them gently. 'What is it?'

He shook his head.

'Is it Merlin?' she pressed on cautiously. 'Have his memories gone as well?' She seemed calmer now than she had been earlier.

Arthur had woken her up that morning after being woken himself by a dream: a dream where he and Merlin had been in danger, terrible danger. They'd both known that they were about to die and Merlin had looked at him and grinned, and then asked him if he remembered when they first met. In the dream, Arthur hadn't been able to recall the meeting and his panic had forced him into wakefulness only to resurface even more strongly when he realised that he was suffering the same memory loss in reality. He had told Gwen without really thinking about how she would react.

If he was truthful with himself, he had, for a moment, thought that his memory loss meant that something was happening to Merlin, that maybe Merlin's life had been erased or that something had happened to young Merlin which had in turn affected them both. The very idea sent something akin to terror shuddering through him, which he was loathed to admit. It had been with that thought in mind that he had blurted everything out to Gwen. Whether her thoughts had followed a similar path to his own, he wasn't sure. He guessed not because she had then proceeded to ask him question after question about his life, about their life together and about his past, checking to see if he remembered everything else. Even though he had answered each one correctly, she had still looked considerably pale and anxious when he had left to go and find Merlin.

It had been a great relief to find the warlock asleep at his desk in his room. Nothing had seemed amiss and aside from the identical missing memory Merlin had been fine, or so Arthur had thought, but now…

He sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face trying to clear his thoughts.

'Arthur?' Gwen repeated, a little more insistently this time, but still with the same care and affection.

'Something's wrong with him,' he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He couldn't believe how Merlin had spoken to him. He had been so angry and one thing that Arthur never associated with the man was anger. Merlin always had a way of lightening a situation, he was always positive, he was never bitter or defeatist.

'Has he lost his memories?' Gwen asked, trepidation in her voice. Her hands stopped rubbing his shoulders as she waited for a reply. Arthur reached up and covered one of her hands with his own.

'He's only missing the same one that I am,' Arthur assured her. 'That's not what's wrong.'

'Then…?' but understanding crossed her face. 'You argued.'

Arthur sighed again and stood up, beginning to pace. He could feel himself getting angrier and angrier as he recalled their… 'disagreement', but he wasn't entirely sure that his anger was directed at Merlin.

'Arthur, what happened?'

'I don't know,' he replied, standing up and shaking his head. 'I really don't know, one minute he was fine and the next he was shouting at me.'

'Shouting?' Gwen asked, her disbelief obvious.

'Yes, shouting. He was angry, Gwen. Furious.'

'With you?'

'Who knows? You know what Merlin's like, always being dramatic, takes everything so personally.'

'Arthur,' Gwen said. She was waiting for the truth; she always could tell when he was avoiding the issue. He sighed again. This was not what the King of Camelot should be worrying about, not when there were many more pressing issues at hand. He voiced the same thoughts to Gwen.

'…I mean, I should not be spending my time trying to work out what's wrong with a member of my court after they threw a tantrum.'

'You know that Merlin isn't just a member of your court, Arthur, and he doesn't throw tantrums. This isn't anything to do with the royal household; this is to do with your friend. Your most loyal friend. You know what Merlin would do for you. I always rest easier when I know he's with you.' She pushed back the covers and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and bowed his forehead onto hers. 'What did you say to him?'

He shook his head again; he recalled his words and felt ashamed that he had allowed his fear to cloud his judgement. His attack on Merlin had been nothing to do with him -he knew that the warlock was working day and night to find a solution-; it had been about Arthur's own fear and desperation.

'I…' he shook his head. He didn't want Gwen to know about his failings as a friend to someone who had saved his life over and over again, but she cupped his cheek with her hand and encouraged him on with a gentle smile. 'I insinuated that he wasn't trying hard enough and I…' He stopped again; this had been what had upset Merlin; he'd said it because he knew it would. He knew how hard the warlock had tried to prove his loyalty. He didn't know how many times the man had apologised for not revealing his magic to Arthur sooner, until the King had finally told him to stop. Merlin had spent the last year and a half trying to regain back Arthur's trust; a trust which, if Arthur was completely honest, Merlin had never deserved to loose. The issue was Arthur's, not Merlin's. It was him who still couldn't quite look past the secret Merlin had kept; it was him who still, on occasion, questioned Merlin's allegiance before the more intelligent side of him reminded him how utterly absurd it was for Merlin to ever be against him. Arthur had tried to ignore the tiny thoughts that cropped up every now and then, knowing that they held no truth, but he just couldn't quite shake them.

And it hurt Merlin; Arthur knew that. It was why he always fought so hard to keep the darkest suspicions of his heart shielded and hidden from his friend, but this morning he'd given up that battle. He had lashed out because of his fear and helplessness; lashed out at the one person who understood what he was going through. Because normally Merlin didn't argue back; he didn't take the comments personally; he brushed them off, or pretended to at least. But not today. Today both of them had let their emotions get the better of them.

He opened his eyes and looked deep into Gwen's. She was waiting for him, giving him time. 'I told him that he was lying, that I knew what that looked like, that he'd done it for years.'

To Gwen's credit, she didn't let her disappointment in him show on her face. Instead she gave him a sad half smile of understanding. She, more than anyone, knew what Merlin meant to Arthur, she already knew how disappointed he was in himself without her adding to it.

'You're both under a lot of pressure,' she told him as she reached up to hug him. 'You'll sort this out. You always do. Just give him a bit of time. Merlin doesn't hold grudges, Arthur, and he forgives easily.'

Arthur nodded. Gwen was right, of course. Merlin would be fine; he would accept Arthur's poor excuse for an apology and move on, just as he always did. Arthur only hoped that he hadn't done any damage to their friendship. He needed Merlin at his side; partly as a sorcerer, but completely and utterly as a friend.

Merlin tried to remember the way to the castle entrance, but in the end he was sure it was luck more than his navigating skills that found him walking down the steps into the cobbled courtyard area. At first he had tried to sneak about so as not to draw attention to himself, but he didn't think he was very good at it because he had received more suspicious looks doing that than when he had decided to just walk around normally. After that, the looks he got were more of confusion than anything else; he guessed that there weren't many children living in the castle. Still, he was relatively confident that no-one realised who he was, but then why would they? After all, the real Merlin was a man in his twenties, not a six year old boy. He had a feeling that they might get closer to the truth if they met Prince Arthur, but only because he drew attention to himself. Merlin, on the other hand, prided himself on his ability to disappear and hide; his mother had told him it was important to go unnoticed in order to keep safe and he was using all those skills now.

Still, he couldn't help but think that his older self had the same skill because try as he might, Merlin couldn't work out where the man had gone. He had said that he was going to find someone, Kil…Kilgha…someone, but Merlin hadn't heard the name mentioned before. He was just about to try and find his way to the old physician's rooms…Gaius, when he heard the sound of hooves on the cobbles. Looking around he saw the sorcerer sat on top of the horse that he had had yesterday. He wasn't rushing, but Merlin knew that there was no way he could follow him.

He sighed in frustration, but at that moment, as if sensing his presence, the man looked over to him. He pulled his horse to a stop and then turned back and trotted over to the steps. Merlin tried not to look guilty.

'What are you doing here?' the sorcerer asked.

'I was looking for you,' Merlin replied, quietly. 'I wanted to help.'

'Does Gwen know where you are?'

'No, but I'm sure Arthur – Prince Arthur – will tell on me soon.' The man smiled and nodded down at him.

'Come on; there's someone I want you to meet.'

'I can come with you?' he asked excitedly. The warlock nodded and held out a hand to help him up into the saddle. Merlin gladly took it and then wrapped his arms round the man's waist when he was seated.

'Hold on.'

'I will.'

They cantered through the streets of Camelot; people moving out of the way without complaint; it was obvious that they liked and respected the Court Sorcerer and it made Merlin feel proud that one day he would be that person. Well, if they ever found a way to get back home. Soon, though, they left the cobbled streets and wooden houses of the city behind and galloped across the open plains. Neither of them said anything –it would have been hard to hear anyway- but Merlin didn't mind the quiet, it didn't feel difficult or uncomfortable; it just felt calm.

When they reached the forest, they slowed down and Merlin breathed in the scent of the trees and the rich soil beneath them. It was a sunny day, warm and fresh and he felt like he was sinking into the earth, becoming part of it as the wind twisted around him, stirring the leaves and ruffling his hair. After a while though, he became curious.

'Where are we going?' he asked.

'Back to where we found you last night,' his older self replied. 'My friend will meet us there.'

'Your friend?'

'A very old friend?'

'Do I know him then?' Merlin asked, excited at the prospect. The man laughed.

'Not yet, but you will do, trust me.'

They carried on, the silence still a comfortable one, but Merlin could still remember the argument that he had overheard -listened in on- that morning and he could sense the man's sadness, almost like he was remembering it and letting the emotions fill the air around him. Merlin couldn't explain it, but somehow he knew how his older self was feeling and it made him feel sad as well.

'How did you make friends with Arthur?' Merlin whispered. He could tell from the way the man tensed that the question had caught him of guard, but he didn't refuse to answer.

'With difficulty, but I suppose you've realised that already, staying with Prince Prat- Arthur,' the man said hastily. Merlin giggled. 'Don't tell Arthur, King Arthur that is, that I said that. Or the Prince for that matter.'

'I won't.' Merlin sighed. 'I don't know how I'll ever be friends with him. He hates me and he doesn't even know me. Did Arthur ever hate you?'

The silence that followed seemed to have a depth to it that Merlin couldn't understand. He was afraid that he'd said the wrong thing, but soon the man continued, his tone soft.

'When we first met…however that was…' Merlin frowned at the comment; what did that mean? '...we didn't like each other. I don't think we hated each other, but we weren't friends. But then we realised, well I did, that actually we had work to accomplish together…that we needed to work together. I don't know when Arthur realised, maybe he still hasn't fully, but when you do the things we did, you become friends and you care about each other. You protect each other…' The man sighed. 'Becoming friends won't happen quickly or easily, but one day you and Arthur will depend on each other more than anyone else. You'll be like brothers.'

'Like you are now?' Merlin asked.

'Perhaps…' the man nodded. 'But maybe we're not there yet either.'

'Because you had a fight?'

From where he sat in the saddle, the sorcerer turned round and looked at his younger self.

'You heard that?'

Merlin hadn't meant to say anything, he hadn't meant to let on that he had overheard the argument, but he couldn't take it back now. He shrugged apologetically.

'It woke me up.'

'Sorry.'

'And then I listened at the door.'

The man smiled at him. 'I suppose I shouldn't really expect anything else. I've overheard plenty of conversations that I shouldn't have in the past and usually it wasn't an accident.'

Merlin grinned, feeling proud of the fact that he was already a bit like the man he would one day become.

'Did the Prince hear as well?' the man asked.

'Yes.'

'I bet he loved that.'

'He thinks you're enchanting the King to do whatever you want.'

'He would,' the man muttered. 'But then that's something else you have to learn about Arthur Pendragon. He's stubborn in his loyalty and in his mistrust and sometimes in both at the same time.'

Merlin didn't understand the words, but he somehow knew that they were about the argument before. The man seemed to hunch over again and Merlin felt frustrated that he hadn't been able to help.

'You said you were like brothers,' he ventured carefully.

'In many ways.'

'Well, brothers are part of a family and families always fight. But then they always love each other in the end.'

Again the sorcerer turned round to look at him, again with a smile on his face.

'You know, listening to you, I can see why Arthur thinks I'm wise. You really are a genius. Don't let anyone, especially Arthur, tell you otherwise.'

'I won't,' Merlin replied, smiling to himself as he sensed the warlock's mood brighten slightly. Very soon the trees came to an abrupt stop and Merlin found himself back in the clearing that he had so confusingly ended up in the previous night. It was hard to describe exactly what had happened to him. One moment he had been playing down by the stream and waiting for Will to join him while his mother prepared the dinner, and the next second he had felt something begin to pulse around him as if lightening was crackling on his skin. It had amused him at first and then he had started to worry as his surroundings seemed to fade, like they were ink that had been left out in the sun for weeks. And then another figure had appeared in the haze. He had thought it was a ghost at first and had tried to run away, only to find that he could barely move his body, it had been like he was trapped by an invisible wall.

When he had realised he couldn't run, he had decided instead to watch the figure, to make sure that it didn't try and hurt him, but as soon as he did, he realised that the other figure -a boy he could then make out- was doing the same to him. He had had no idea what was happening and then suddenly everything around him had disappeared. The boy, Arthur, had become as real as he was and the clearing that they now stood in had materialised as if by…well…magic.

The witch –Morgana as he now knew- had quickly captured his attention and he had not allowed himself to look away from her. He had barely been aware that Merlin and King Arthur had been close by, all he had seen were the witch's dark eyes, the hate in them, the way she had looked at him. He had felt the darkness of her magic, had know what her intent was and he had been terrified. The next part -being flung across a strange clearing in the middle of the night and landing very hard on the ground- had been an enjoyable experience by comparison.

'Are you alright?' his older self asked as they dismounted the horse. Merlin nodded. 'Good. I'm going to leave Halesha here,' he explained, stroking the horse's mane affectionately. 'As loyal and brave a horse as she is, she doesn't like this particular friend.' He grinned as he said it and Merlin felt a little suspicious. He recognised that grin and it reminded him of when he and Will played pranks on the village.

'Who is your friend?' Merlin asked slowly.

'Wait and see.' He began to make his way to the middle of the clearing and Merlin jogged to catch up with his long strides. When they were about central, and not far from where the sphere had formed, the warlock stopped and grinned. 'You'll love it when you learn to do this,' he said.

'Learn to do what?'

But the man didn't answer; instead he looked up to the sky and shouted in a deep and strange voice. The words that he used were foreign to Merlin, but they reminded him of the spell that the man had shown him last night in the clearing. They had the same sense of awe attached to them. He looked round expectantly, wondering where this friend would appear from, but nothing seemed to happen. He squinted into the trees, but he couldn't see anything or anyone apart from Halesha.

'Are you sure-' he began, but a noise stopped him from going any further. It was almost as if he felt the noise before he heard it, a deep resounding beat that repeated slowly and steadily. He looked around trying to place its source, but soon it became louder and he knew that it was coming from the sky. He realised what the sound reminded him of now: wing beats, but much much bigger than any bird he had ever seen. With a sense of trepidation he looked up and saw what he hadn't dared to believe was possible.

Above them, its wings sweeping up and down with such force that he felt the gust of wind rush over him, was an enormous dragon. It was hard to tell whether it was fear or awe that made him tremble, but either way Merlin felt his whole body shudder as the creature descended. Its scales glittered; sometimes seeming golden, other times a rich brown and at other times a jewel-like silver. It was beautiful, terrifyingly beautiful, and Merlin couldn't help but take cover behind his older self as the dragon finally landed, shaking the ground beneath them.

'The power of Morgana's magic still fills the air here, young warlock.'

For a moment, Merlin thought the dragon was talking to him and he trembled even more, but it became apparent that that wasn't the case when the dark haired man stepped forward and replied.

'I know. I was hoping that you could help me understand it.'

Merlin felt very exposed now that his protective body had moved and he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He stopped and forced himself to remain still, but so focused was he on the task that he failed to realise that the dragon had not replied. He lifted his eyes and found himself face to face with the creature, its huge teeth less than a metre away, ready to snap him up at any moment.

'What have we here?' the dragon boomed.

'Kilgharrah, let me introduce you to Merlin, six year old Merlin.'

'Fascinating,' the dragon, Kilgharrah, said after a short silence, moving even closer. Merlin closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was somewhere else.

'He won't hurt you,' the warlock assured him, moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

'I know,' Merlin replied. Which was true, he did know that he was in no danger, he could sense it, but the shock of seeing a dragon, a creature which he had been told didn't exist anymore, seemed to be taking over all his emotions.

'An even younger warlock,' Kilgharrah murmured. 'I suppose you want me to help you send him back?'

'Yes, and erm, seven year old Arthur as well,' the man ventured hopefully. 'Can you do it?'

'I have no means of repeating what the witch accomplished. I am powerful, but not in ways which will help in this situation.'

Merlin could sense his older self's dismay at the words. He too felt panic welling up in him. Did this mean that he would never get back to his own time? Never see his mother or Ealdor or Will again? But surely they existed here as well. He could go back there now, but how could he explain? And where did that leave the current Arthur and Merlin?

'Is there nothing you can do to help me?' the warlock asked. 'I'm more powerful than Morgana. I should be able to do what she did, I just don't know how.'

'I have been thinking carefully about it this past night, Merlin, and I can begin to help you, but I can not guarantee success in this matter.' The dragon sounded sad at the words, although it was hard to tell.

'At this point, I'll take even the smallest hint.'

With that, the two of them began talking about things that Merlin just didn't understand. He tried to listen at first, but they were talking about natural magic and combining forces and the past and the present and the future, or all three of them at the same time and it only served to confuse and then alarm him. He sat down on the grass, instead, and just stared at the dragon; admiring his majestic movements and intricate scales. He wanted to reach out and touch the creature's skin, or ask if he could ride on his back, but he didn't dare and so instead he was content to just drink in the sight before him.

At one point in the conversation, however, Merlin felt himself being drawn back in by what the other two were saying. He looked up at them, trying to understand what had caught his attention.

'…didn't see anything that she had on her that would do what you say,' the dark haired man was saying.

'Then perhaps it was hidden. What little I know of time manipulation says that there must always be a magical object that was created at the time you wish to view. It makes sense that she also had something from both your younger self and Arthur's younger self to be able to narrow her search.'

'Do you mean an item, a belonging?'

'No, magic works more deeply that possessions. She would have needed something that is the very essence of self: blood would be most likely.'

'Morgana doesn't have any of our blood.'

'All it would take would be a drop, the smallest remnant. It may have been collected in a battle over a year ago for all you know. Have you and Arthur not bled in the past year and a half?'

'Not with my magical wards in place, but perhaps…' he stopped and frowned. 'It took time to build them up. At first the occasional weapon got through them.'

'You know that Morgana has spies. She could easily have collected what she needed,' the dragon boomed.

'So you're saying that I'll need to find this item, whatever it is, with our blood on in order to re-establish the connection that Morgana made?' the warlock asked slowly.

'Without it, you have no hope of sending your younger selves back to the moment they were taken from. If they arrive back in the wrong place I do not know how time will react.'

'What would it most likely be?'

'Something that was created at the time they were taken from, something transfused with magic. A ring, a weapon, a staff.'

'A pendant?' Merlin asked suddenly. Both the dragon and the warlock looked down at him and he suddenly felt very vulnerable. What if he was wrong? He didn't want to slow them down. There was a long silence.

'I didn't see a pendant,' the dark haired man said with a frown.

'She was wearing it around her neck, a gold one I think, with a jewel in it. It was only small on a thin chain,' Merlin replied quietly. 'I don't think you'd have noticed it from where you were.' The two of them continued to stare at him and he was worried for a moment that he was being silly.

'The object of which he speaks could be used to fix a point in the past. Many magical items have been created in the past, even after the purge. It would not be hard for Morgana to find one, not if she had the time to look,' the dragon explained.

'Did you see anything else on her, anything else that could be the object we're looking for?' the sorcerer asked urgently.

'I don't think so; I only saw the pendant because it was so beautiful.'

'It must be the pendant.'

'But I might be wrong,' Merlin argued. He didn't want to be the reason everything went wrong.

'I've learnt to trust my instincts in the past, Merlin,' the man grinned. 'It's the pendant. And it would be like Morgana to use something of beauty for evil.' Merlin didn't think it would be any use arguing further. Besides, he might be right. 'How do I find her,' the man continued, turning back to the dragon.

'I do not advise that you face her alone,' Kilgharrah answered.

'She's weak and I can not waste time. Do you know where she is or not?'

'I do. I have been searching for her and tracing her movements since last night.'

'Then tell me where she is.'

'I don't think you should go on your own,' Merlin said quietly, repeating the dragon's words. He remembered how powerful the witch had been and how intent on killing them she was. It seemed to Merlin that the King should be on the mission as well. He looked at the dragon, hoping the creature would back him up, but he said nothing, just stared at the boy serenely, which made Merlin even more nervous.

'It'll be quicker if I go on my own,' the man explained to him. 'Merlin, could you go and wait by Halesha please.'

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to work out what he didn't want the boy to hear.

'Please,' he repeated.

Merlin thought about standing his ground, but was sure that if it came to it, his older self would just use magic to move him anyway and he didn't want to fall out with himself. With a sigh, Merlin trudged over to Halesha. From this distance, he couldn't hear anything. He could make out the low rumble of Kilgharrah's voice, but nothing of what either of them were saying.

He absentmindedly stroked Halesha's mane, trying to work out how he could stop Merlin from going after the witch on his own, when a voice echoed all around him. He spun round in fright, but saw no-one. Again, the voice spoke, but now he realised that it wasn't coming from all around him, but from inside his head. What was more; he recognised it as the dragon's. He turned to look across the clearing, but both magical creatures seemed absorbed in their conversation.

Hello? he ventured uncertainly.

Merlin. Merlin is determined to find the witch, Morgana, on his own.

Oh. Merlin wasn't sure what to say to that and so just waited. There had to be a reason that an enormous dragon was speaking to him in his head, while not letting the older version of himself know that the conversation was going on.

You must inform King Arthur of Merlin's plans.

Merlin shot the dragon a look across the clearing, but for all the attention the creature was paying, Merlin might have been invisible.

I don't want to make him cross, Merlin replied hesitantly.

It would be worse for you if you made me cross,came the dragon's reply. Merlin unconsciously moved further into the trees. He didn't think that Kilgharrah was being serious, but he didn't really want to test that theory with a creature who could easily eat him.

Alright. What should I tell him?

You must tell him that Merlin has gone to find the witch. She is on the eastern border of the Caleron mountains, by the Pass of the Old Kingdom.

You're going with him aren't you?

I will not get involved with the affairs of kingdoms; I will only guide, as it has always been with the dragons. You must tell King Arthur.

What if he doesn't believe me, Merlin asked, quite certain that it was a possibility. After all, he was a six year old from the past who lived in a small village and kept chickens and slept on the floor. Why would the King of Camelot listen to him?

You are Merlin. He will listen to you and he will believe you.

Across the clearing Merlin saw Kilgharrah open his wings and with a great leap begin his ascent. Even from where he stood, Merlin could feel the air rush in time with the beat of his wings.

You're destiny is beginning again, young warlock. Do as I have asked.

I will, Merlin promised as his namesake walked across the grass towards him. He looked sad, but determined.

'Are we going back to the castle now?' Merlin asked hopefully. Maybe the sorcerer had changed his mind.

'You are; Halesha will take you back.' He picked Merlin up and put him into the saddle, shortening the stirrups so that they were the right height for his much shorter legs.

'I don't think you should go on your own. If the King goes he can take some knights and everything. It will be safer.'

'I'll be fine.'

'But how will you get there? You'll need Halesha.'

'I'll be fine. I can use magic to aid me and Halesha will struggle with the terrain anyway.'

'You don't have any food,' Merlin tried; surely there would be some way that he could stop the man from going right now. He just smiled at Merlin and pulled a pack from Halesha's saddle bags and grinned.

'Already stocked up. Trust me, I'll be fine.'

'But the witch is dangerous.'

'Merlin. I'm going now and you're going back to Camelot.'

'What shall I tell the King? He'll want to know where you are,' Merlin asked.

'Tell him the truth: that you don't know.'

'Please,' Merlin whispered, but he knew it was useless. The man gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder.

'I won't be more than a few days. Just tell Arthur not worry, not the Prince –I don't suppose he'll care-, but the other one.'

'He's going to be angry.'

'At me, not you.'

'I am you!' Merlin replied incredulously, which elicited a laugh from his counterpart.

'You'll be fine. I'll see you soon. And remember: don't let the Prince get to you.'

With that he tapped Halesha, whispered a few words into her ear and then took a few steps back. Merlin gave him one last pleading look but received only a wave in return. With a sigh he turned round in the saddle and allowed Halesha to take him back to Camelot, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

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