Past and Present Danger

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews! It was lovely to read so many encouraging comments. Anyway, I think I've kept you waiting long enough. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Chapter 15

Arthur wasn't sure exactly what went through his mind as he all but leapt off the mountain after Merlin, but he knew as sure as hell that he wasn't going to watch his friend plummet to his death. He had seen the expression on Merlin's face. It had been one of absolute helplessness which he had only seen on a few rare and haunting occasions; it was nothing to do with –as Arthur had first assumed- Merlin's fatigue after the last few days. No, whatever was happening to Merlin was something that the sorcerer didn't understand, and which terrified him. It was the only thing that could explain the silent plea that he had made to Arthur with one simple look.

And Arthur, of course, would help. It was a well-known fact in Camelot, both inside the castle and out in the town, that Merlin would do anything for Arthur. No-one ever questioned that; most people hadn't even questioned it during Merlin's six months of exile. But there were less people who realised that Merlin's loyalty to Arthur ran both ways. No, Arthur wasn't going to stop making fun of Merlin in front of people; no, he wasn't going to listen to Merlin without at least some minor attempt at incredulity at the sorcerer's words, but when it came to the important things, the things that meant something, Arthur would do anything to keep Merlin from harm.

Which included, he realised, as he felt the air rush against his face and felt the ledge under his feet disappear, jumping off a mountain after him. The light disappeared at that instant, but Arthur had taken in enough of his surroundings to know exactly where Merlin was and exactly where the ledge was. He only hoped that would be enough.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur flung his hand forward and was relieved to find that he connected squarely with Merlin's ankle. He wrapped his fingers around it and closed his fist as much as he could. At the same time, he threw his right hand up and reached for the cliff edge. For one terrible second he thought that he'd missed it; that he'd misjudged the distance, but a moment later, his fingers connected hard with rock. He had a split second to brace himself for the pressure that would hit him when Merlin's full weight was being taken by his arms and chest. He closed his eyes.

When it did happen, he could not help but yell as the force wrenched his shoulder round, and his fingers began to loose ground, but he gritted his teeth and tried to stop Merlin's dead weight from swinging back and forth; the movement was loosening his grip. He was aware of the knights' voices above him, panic and fear in them.

'Sire!' came Sir Leon's voice from the back of the group. Somewhere else he heard a foot slip, before being banged back into place.

'Sire?' Gwaine this time. Arthur gritted his teeth and tried to suck in some air to reply, but the pressure across his chest made it hard.

'I'm holding onto the ledge,' he gasped, 'but I can't hold on much longer.' He heard some relieved sighs from out if the darkness.

'Have you got Merlin?' Gwaine asked hesitantly as he moved closer.

'Yes.' He was going to make some witty comment about Merlin putting on a few pounds or being heavier than he looked, but he really wasn't in a position to be wasting energy on a few quips that would no doubt be wasted on his currently anxious knights.

'Percival,' Gwaine called, 'can you get past the Prince?'

'I think so.' There were some muffled sounds of feet on rock and a some protestations from said Prince, but a few seconds later Arthur heard Percival ask what he needed to do from just above Arthur's head.

What followed was Gwaine and Percival's much too long discussion about the best way to lift Arthur and Merlin back up, without falling themselves.

'I don't mean to hurry you,' Arthur hissed, 'but Merlin isn't getting any lighter and my fingers aren't getting any stronger.'

Hurriedly, Gwaine and Percival arranged themselves against the rock face. Arthur was left to imagine what they were doing; even with the light of the moon, all he could make out were faint silhouettes that moulded almost entirely with the black rock face. He guessed from their discussion that Percival had found a hand hold on the mountain and was bracing Gwaine, who suddenly appeared leaning over the edge of the cliff, like some strange dark monster in the night air. Arthur guessed that he was kneeling on the ledge, although he couldn't be sure. As far as he could remember, the outcrop they had been on had not been more than a boot length; Arthur wasn't sure that Gwaine could kneel in such a small space.

Hanging from the ledge, Arthur could feel a numbness entering his fingers on both hands. He was loosing his grip, but hurrying them would only cause them to make mistakes. Even so, he couldn't help the desperate gasps that were escaping his lips as he tried to hold his own weight and Merlin's. Just when he thought he would have to order them to be quicker, he felt Gwaine's hand close around his wrist and pull enough that some of the pressure left Arthur's arms, not much, but enough to help him draw breath more effectively and re-anchor himself on the ledge.

'You're not going to be able to pull both of us up, Gwaine,' Arthur told him, assuming that was their plan.

'Well I'm open to suggestions, Sire,' he drawled back, the strain of his exertions evident in his voice as well. 'I'm just trying to stop you both from falling to you respective deaths.'

'You need to wake Merlin up,' Elyan called from behind them. 'It's the only way.'

'I don't know what's wrong with him,' Arthur replied, closing his eyes tightly against the pain that was beginning to consume the muscles in his arms.

'We can't do this without him,' Leon agreed. Arthur didn't argue. He called Merlin's name lightly. He was going to risk trying to shake the man awake, but wasn't sure he'd be able to hold on if he started swinging and so contented himself with calling him again and adding insults when Merlin showed no signs of responding. Above him, the knights joined in the attempt and Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes at the absurdity of the situation. Here they were in the middle of the night with two of them hanging off a ledge and calls of 'Merlin' circling around in the air.

'Merlin has always been able to sleep through anything,' Gwaine eventually said, his voice clipped as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. But Arthur heard a slight sigh from down below.

'Merlin?' he asked, unsure of whether the man was awake. It was obvious that he was the next moment when he gave a startled yell and began thrashing somewhat, causing Arthur's arm to wrench painfully and Gwaine's grip on him to falter somewhat. 'Merlin!' he yelled as loudly as he could. 'Stop fidgeting. No, no,' he continued as Merlin tried to pull his weight up and turn to see what was going on above him. 'Stop you idiot,' Arthur called, his tone more full of pain than authority. It did the trick however.

'Arthur what…?' Merlin began. He sounded like he was half asleep.

'What's happening?' Arthur finished for him. 'Well,' he began, knowing that he should really try and conserve his strength, but so much more irritated with Merlin now that he was conscious. '…you, in your wise way, decided to fall off the ledge, I caught you and now we can't get back up. So do something now before I drop you on purpose.'

'I don't-'

'Merlin!' Arthur attempted to yell, but it wasn't just his voice that echoed through the night; the knights too seemed unwilling to give Merlin time to ask another question. A moment later, light illuminated them again and it only served to prove to Arthur that the whole situation was utterly absurd.

'Not really helping, Merlin,' he continued. 'Now I can see how close we all are to plunging to our deaths.' It was true. Gwaine had his eyes closed; his whole body was shaking while his face was pale. Percival looked very similar, but his eyes had stayed resolutely open.

'Alright; hold on,' Merlin replied.

'I am!' It was the loudest he'd managed to speak the entire time and it spurred Merlin on no end. Within seconds, Merlin was muttering several strange words and Arthur felt the weight on his arms lessen and decrease as Merlin managed to levitate himself towards the ledge. Arthur didn't let go of his ankle until Merlin was safely on the cliff. Seconds later he felt his own body being raised up past Gwaine and then lowered gently until his feet once again felt the reassuring hardness of rock beneath them. Beside him, Percival helped Gwaine to stand and within a few seconds everyone was on safe ground-or safer at least. No-one said anything for several seconds and, looking along the line, Arthur could see everyone with their heads back against the rock and their eyes closed in silent relief. He did the same, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his arms and the racing of his heart.

Eventually he looked over to Merlin, who met his gaze hesitantly.

'Don't do that again,' he told him. He had meant to say it in his usual Merlin-reprimanding-tone, but it didn't come out like that. It was much gentler, much more like a plea than an order.

'Sorry, Sire,' came Merlin's humble reply. 'I don't know what happened.'

'I know,' Arthur nodded. 'Just…stay closer from now on.' He nodded and Arthur looked back down the line. The knights seemed to have recovered themselves enough to move on, but his young self seemed to be in shock. Percival gave him a nod to say he would look out for the Prince, which Arthur was grateful for. He turned back to tell Merlin to carry on, but his friend was looking down into the abyss below them; his face was pale, and he swallowed heavily before putting his head back against the wall once more. He looked at Arthur.

'Thank you,' he whispered. Arthur just nodded at him.

They moved on again; Arthur's focus never once slipping from Merlin's pale form.

Arthur lay on the ground pretending to be asleep. All around him he could hear the deep breathing and snores of the knights. They had arranged themselves in a circle around him, which made him feel very claustrophobic, but they all seemed so worried that Morgana would come and capture him that he didn't bother arguing. He knew, of course, that Morgana wouldn't bother to come and find him -not when she had Merlin. He shook his head, refusing to think about it.

With every step they took towards Camelot, he felt his fear increase; the fear that had stirred inside him at the thought of the others finding out what he'd done; finding out that he'd lied; finding out that he'd abandoned Merlin to a witch. He hadn't said a word the entire time, not even to complain when Percival insisted on carrying him again when he looked tired. Even the thought of opening his mouth made him feel sick; he worried that if he said anything, the terrible truth would come tumbling out of him and he couldn't let that happen. Somehow he would convince them that Merlin had gone off on his own, but he couldn't do that until he was back in Camelot. And so he had chosen to say nothing about it and think nothing of it. The rest of the group, evidently assuming the day's events had taken their toll on him, didn't question his silence.

But now it was too silent. Not even the sounds of their footsteps on the rock were there to distract him; he needed to find something else to occupy his mind. Sleep wasn't working; thinking of home only made him feel sad and everything about his current situation made feel angry or scared or both.

Off to his right, the sound of soft footfalls caught his attention and he focused on them, wanting the distraction. He guessed that it was Merlin, who had been sleeping outside the ring of knights, going to change shifts with King Arthur who had been stationed just outside their camp for the last couple of hours. Closing his eyes, Arthur listened hard, determined to hear what they were going to say, half wanting to check that they didn't suspect him.

'Here,' came Merlin's soft voice. Arthur guessed he was handing him a water skin. 'I'll take over for you.'

'I've got a bit longer yet. Get some more rest.'

'There's no point. I can't sleep.'

'Neither can I,' the King admitted gently.

Arthur assumed that was all they were going to say and was disappointed that his only means of distraction had been so short lived, but a few seconds later the King spoke again.

'What happened today, Merlin? Up on the ledge?' Silence. Arthur scowled at the sorcerer's lack of respect for his King; that he would actually dare to ignore a question. 'I saw you before you fell. Something wasn't right. You were scared.'

'I was about to fall off a cliff.'

'Stop stalling. You know what I mean. It wasn't tiredness that made you loose your balance. Something happened and it scared you.'

'I told you,' Merlin murmured, so quietly that from where Arthur lay he had to strain to hear, 'I don't know what happened.'

'You always say you don't know. What you mean is you have an idea, but you don't really want to share it.'

'Well this time I really don't know. It felt…' he sighed. 'It doesn't matter.'

'Whatever it was nearly killed you, Merlin. It matters. So tell me what you think.'

Another heavy sigh from the sorcerer, but this time he did as the King asked.

'It's hard to explain. It felt like I was…fading, or disappearing. Like dying I suppose, but with no real cause.'

The way that he said it sent a shudder through Arthur where he lay eavesdropping on the conversation. He could hear Merlin's fear; even as powerful as he was, the man felt afraid. Arthur thought he'd feel smug at that knowledge; smug that even a sorcerer got scared, but it didn't have that effect at all; it just reminded him of… He shook his head. No; he wasn't going to think about it.

The King seemed equally affected by the words; his tone was strained when he next spoke.

'Are you saying something's trying to kill you?'

'I don't know.'

'Merlin.'

'I really don't know, Arthur. All I know is that when I was on the cliff, I couldn't find the energy to control my actions and it felt like I wasn't really there anymore.'

'Could it be Morgana?' the King asked after a long pause. His tone had become more measured, like he only wanted to focus on solutions.

'No; she's not powerful enough and even if she was, I'd know it was her.'

'Then, the situation we're in?'

'Are you experiencing anything like that?' Merlin asked. There was a pause and, on hearing Merlin's next words, Arthur assumed that the King had shaken his head. 'So I don't think it can be. Maybe there's something wrong with young me.'

Arthur felt the familiar shadow of fear descend over him at the sorcerer's words. They would work it out, they would find out it was him. But their conversation took no such turn. They reasoned that the boy was safe and protected in Camelot and that Morgana couldn't have made any moves to attack him yet as she had only just found out about him. They thought about the possibility of him getting sick, but argued that there had been nothing of concern when they left Camelot and that Gaius would be there instantly to look after him. They talked about young Merlin for several minutes, but never once did they mention the idea that Arthur could have lied to them about coming alone when he followed them to the Pass.

The knowledge comforted Arthur, but also filled him with a terrible sense of unease. They didn't suspect him at all. Something in their heads couldn't possibly believe that Arthur would leave Merlin to Morgana's mercy. He shivered under his blanket.

'Once I've worked out how to send them back, then it'll stop. I'm sure it will,' Merlin was saying.

'And if it doesn't?'

'Well, at least I'll have lived long enough to send everyone back to the correct time.'

A long silence. Arthur suspected that the King hadn't found the joke very funny.

'If you think another…attack…seizure, whatever it is,' the King said, 'is affecting you, just let me know. There are no mountains to fall off on the way back to Camelot, but I'm sure you'd find a way of badly injuring yourself if you fell off this log.'

'Probably,' Merlin mumbled.

Neither one of them said anything else, but nor did they move from where they were. The distraction had not worked as Arthur hoped it would, but he did seem more tired now than he had felt before. He closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing.

When he next opened his eyes, Arthur found the world illuminated in the grey light of pre-dawn. It was a damp morning and he felt stiff from sleeping on the ground for so many hours. It was evident what had woken him; all around the knights were packing up the camp to begin the journey back to the where the horses were and then finally on to Camelot. He saw the King stroll over to him and tensed, but all the man did was crouch down and lay a hand on his shoulder.

'Come on,' he said quietly. 'We need to get moving.'

Arthur nodded and packed up his blanket watching his older self talking to each member of their group, finally stopping at Merlin and evidently checking that the sorcerer was alright. Arthur tried to conjure up some disdain at the King's evident favour towards Merlin, but he found that the fight had gone out of him on that front. Whatever Merlin's plan was, Arthur was beginning to doubt his previous beliefs that it was to take over the Kingdom. Nothing that he'd seen backed up the idea. Perhaps the sorcerer had another plan, but Arthur couldn't build up any enthusiasm at the thought of figuring out what it was.

In fact, he felt empty somehow. He didn't know where he should go or what he should do. And just beneath the emptiness, there was a terrible gnawing ache in his stomach. It felt like anticipation, but not in a good way.

They had not walked very far that morning and the forest was only a dark line far in the distance, when the sight of a group on horseback coming from the forest caught their attention. The King and the knights had quickly moved into a fighting formation, pushing Arthur to the back with Merlin, who looked just as ill this morning as he had done the previous night.

After several long minutes, however, it became clear that the travellers were knights from Camelot and so they began heading towards them, no longer fearing an attack by rogue bandits.

It took a long time before they were close enough to see the people who made up the other group, but as soon as they were, Arthur felt the cold chill grip him once more. He didn't recognise any of the Knights –why would he?-, but he recognised the person leading the group.

It was Guinevere.

The sight of familiar faces seemed to spur the King and his knights on -even if it was with some trepidation as to why the Queen was riding out to find them, and evidently riding with some determination-, however, Arthur felt his legs slow in response and he made no effort to move in front of the knights, but stayed resolutely behind them, trying to make sure that Guinevere couldn't see him. Why that would help, he wasn't sure, but he felt much safer being concealed behind the knights.

Finally the two groups met, Arthur still resolutely hidden from sight.

'My Lord,' Guinevere called hurriedly, jumping down from her horse even before it had stopped.

'Guinevere, do not panic,' the King said gently.

'But-' she tried.

'Arthur,' the King called, cutting her off and evidently searching the group for the Prince. It was all Arthur could do to force his legs to move from behind the knights. He saw Guinevere's panicked face and watched as it smoothed out and her eyes closed in silent relief.

'With you,' she whispered. The King nodded and smiled at her. 'You wouldn't believe how worried I've been,' she continued breathlessly.

'I can imagine.'

'When we found they were missing we-'

'Wait,' the King said abruptly. ''They'?'

'Yes,' the Queen nodded in confusion. 'They weren't there yesterday morning and-'

'Both of them?' Merlin spoke this time. He had detached himself from the group and was now standing in front of Guinevere.

Arthur shrank back as he watched confusion settle over the faces of all those who were gathered. He hadn't decided what he was going to say yet to convince him that he didn't know anything. The Queen had caught him by surprise.

'Of course both of them,' she whispered.

'But only Arthur followed us,' the King told her, gesturing back towards his younger self.

'No, we spent the day searching for them in the town and the outlying farms. There were two sets of children's footprints by the stables and a woman who was up nursing her daughter saw them in the night, both on horseback. She said she saw two children riding.'

An air of uncertainty seemed to twist all around the group. Arthur didn't think that anyone had yet realised the truth and he tried desperately to think of something, anything, he could say to convince them that the evidence was wrong, but there was nothing. He looked round at the faces of the knights; their focus was on the conversation going on between their monarchs, but he noticed that Merlin was only half listening. His eyes were on the ground, a frown on his face as he tried to work out what was going on, and then, ever so slowly, he turned to look straight at Arthur.

Arthur felt the intensity of his gaze like the man's eyes were searching out his very heart. Searching and not finding what they wanted to. He saw Merlin's face sculpt itself into one of understanding and then disappointment, terrible heart-rending disappointment, which Arthur felt like a physical blow.

'Who told you Merlin hadn't gone as well?' the Queen was asking, her forehead furrowed in a frown.

'Arthur did, but…' the King stopped. As if in slow motion, Arthur watched all faces turn towards him, adding to the pressure that Merlin's look had forced on him. Understanding flitted round the group instantly. For the most part, disbelief was the chief expression that he saw gazing back at him, excluding of course, the disappointment that Merlin bestowed on him. He dropped his gaze from them, wanting to disappear, but even in his terror, curiosity got the best of him and he glanced up, searching out the one face that he really wanted to see. His own. Older and wiser, but his own nonetheless. He looked at the King, dreading to see disappointment on his face as well, but instead he was a met with an expression of fury. He stepped back under its intensity, terrified of what would happen next.

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