Hidden Motives

A/N: What a response to the last chapter! Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, they've kept me smiling since the weekend. Although, I feel a lot more pressure now with the rest of the story. I hope it will live up to your expectations. A longer chapter this time, which is a good job as the next two are a bit shorter. Hope you enjoy, and please review!

Chapter 8

Proof. Proof. That was the first word that crossed Merlin's mind as the revelation shot through him. Not proof that he could use against the man in front of him, proof that he was right, that this wasn't the vision that he'd been expecting ever since he found out about the spell.

He stood firm against the cobbled stones under his feet, giving himself the precious seconds he would need to think this through. And, despite what Arthur said -the real Arthur- Merlin was a very quick thinker when he needed to be.

The memory that had just returned to him was what he focussed on. It filled in those missing hours before he had woken up in the forest. He had finished his errands for Gaius and gone up to Arthur's room. Arthur had been training with his knights and so Merlin had taken the opportunity to completely clean the room without a constant barrage of orders. It had been whilst cleaning that he came across the small chest hidden at the back of one of the cupboards, buried under piles of clothes and laundry and documents that were several years old. Merlin, being his usual curious self, had instantly pulled the chest out and opened it to find an array of magical instruments, potions and books. And they weren't the sort of things that Merlin was used to dealing with. They were steeped in dark magic; he could sense it as he picked them up and handled them.

That had begun his investigation, he had turned the room upside down searching for evidence and when that had revealed nothing else, he had looked at the items again, comparing the spells in the books to the items and potions that were contained in the box. Only one seemed to match the other items: a spell to take on the physical likeness of another. He had understood instantly and had challenged the imposter the moment he returned from training.

There had been shouting as witnesses had said, as Merlin demanded to know where the real Arthur was, and he had hit his head against the table, as the imposter had said. The man had not taken Merlin's accusations well. When Merlin stepped forward, ready to use his magic, he had found himself hit in the chest by an invisible force from the man. He had been thrown back and had smashed his head. Now he remembered waking up, not having a clue what was happening, and running out of Arthur's chambers and out of the castle in confusion. There had been no alarm bells ringing, no guards trying to stop him. Because in that time, the imposter had needed a plan to make sure that anything Merlin said wouldn't implicate him. The poison had been as good a story as any and if he was a sorcerer then he could easily have opened Gauis poisons' chest, key or not. How pleased he must have been when Merlin returned and had no memory of anything. Merlin cursed himself; he'd made it so easy for the man; he'd even offered himself up for execution.

No. That wasn't Arthur. Mind made up, Merlin turned his attention to escaping. A blast of magic would probably do the trick, but it would do nothing in the way of clearing his name and it would give away to the sorcerer that he was dealing with more than just a servant. Merlin now suspected that the man had no clue that Arthur's unassuming manservant was the most powerful warlock of the age; he wanted to keep it that way.

No, magic was not an option and accusing the Prince of being an imposter would just seem like the desperate act of a guilty man. So then, what other option was there? But the answer came to him almost instantly. A split second later, he let his body pitch forward and go slack in the arms of his captors who had become more and more aggressive at his continual refusal to cooperate. They did as Merlin expected: pulled him back to his feet, loosening their grip somewhat as he found his feet once more.

Merlin took his chance. With as much force as he could muster; he threw his arms down and spun around, feeling the guards lose hold of him for several seconds. The movements were self defence techniques that Arthur had insisted he learn; at the time Merlin had hidden his irritation, knowing that he could free himself with magic much more easily; now he felt like giving Arthur a hug to say thank you; not that the action would go down well with the Prince. A few muttered words later and the guards, after a slight shove from Merlin, suddenly found themselves tripping over what appeared to be nothing. They fell to the floor and Merlin made a run for it. A hand closed round his ankle and he tripped, landing heavily, but he kicked back and felt the hand come lose. Still, he was running out of time. He looked up to see the guards ahead readying themselves, but his eyes searched out the two knights that he knew would help him. He got up and raced the few steps towards them.

'We were wrong,' he called to them as he reached them, and that was all it took for Lancelot and Gwaine to charge into action. The two of them grabbed him and pulled him back through the column of soldiers, surrounding him on both sides. They were faster than even Merlin had suspected and soon, after pushing past soldiers who looked utterly confused at the actions of two of Camelot's most prominent soldiers, managed to make a path to an emptier part of the courtyard, which was filled with civilians. By this time, however, the other guards had roused themselves into action and had drawn their swords to challenge the seemingly renegade knights that were currently trying to rescue a prisoner. Gwaine and Lancelot drew their swords as well and for a few moments, there was an uneasy truce. Every single soldier in the courtyard knew that Lancelot and Gwaine were highly skilled and incredibly dangerous fighters in their own right, but put them together and you had a lethal battle ahead of you. On the balcony, Uther had seen their hesitation.

'Arrest them all, now!' he shouted.

One brave man leapt forwards with a yell and the others followed suit. Merlin didn't have a clue what to do to help. He tried a few subtle spells to try and even the odds a bit for his two allies, but Lancelot elbowed him so hard in the chest after each time that he decided he'd take the knight's not to gentle warning and leave the fighting to them. Except for a few more spells, of course; ones which saw soldiers inexplicably dropping their weapons, while the fight raged around them.

And a chaotic fight it was. They were surrounded on all sides, the clash of swords echoing through the courtyard, while the citizens of Camelot fled with shouts and screams. The fleeing people were enough to break up the soldiers that had started to attack them from the gallows side and the three of them took the opportunity to push back in that direction. On the other side, closer to the castle, the servants were also taking flight, pushing their way through the soldiers there. Again the numbers thinned and Merlin felt, for the first time, that they might actually escape. He looked round, trying to spot not-Arthur, but in the crush of people, he was hard pressed to see anything. Further towards the castle, the soldiers seemed to be loosing formation. On familiar territory, with huge numbers, Merlin found this odd, until he noticed Percival moving across them, seemingly helping with the fight, but evidently causing as much disruption as he could. He assumed that Elyan and Leon were doing the same.

On both sides of him, Gwaine and Lancelot were swinging their swords in graceful arcs, sending knights to the ground all around them. Merlin noticed, however, that not a single man had been slain. They had been injured, knocked out by blows to the head from the hilts of the two men's swords and the flat edges of the blades, but no-one lay dying or dead on the floor.

The soldiers around them seemed to notice this too, for their movements became more uncertain. After all, it was hard enough to attack two of Arthur's most trusted and skilled knights, let alone do so when they were doing everything in their power to avoid taking the life of their fellow men. They were not the actions of two men who had betrayed their King and Prince and turned against their fellow soldiers. And so the fighting let up somewhat and the three of them, who had managed to push their way to the edge of the fray during the fighting, took their chance.

'Run!' Lancelot yelled, kicking one soldier square in the chest, while Gwaine delivered a punch to another man. Both of the dazed soldiers were sent sprawling back into their comrades, knocking them over, giving the three of them enough time to make a run for the side gate.

'Shut the gates!' Merlin heard Uther yell from above them, but the guards didn't have enough time to push the enormous doors into place before Lancelot and Gwaine were upon them, knocking them out with a few well timed blows and then hauling Merlin through the gap when he slowed to turn back round one last time.

'Not the time for taking in the view, Merlin,' Gwaine called to him as they set off at a run.

They had found their way to the side gate which led into the east side of the city. Behind them, the pounding if dozens of feet could be heard. They continued running, past startled citizens and loaded market stalls.

'We need to get to the stables,' Lancelot shouted. They wound their way through the streets, taking shortcuts that Merlin had discovered during his many years working in the city and running errands for Gaius. The sounds of their pursuers lessened for a while and seemed to spread out in all directions. He wondered if Leon and the others were leading them down false trails. Before long, they found themselves racing down the street which led to the stables. There were four guards outside, but they were knocked unconscious with ease and Merlin all but raced past them as they fell, and searched out three horses. Two had just been brought in by a stable hand who, quite willingly, stood in a corner when told to by an angry knight with a sword. Merlin quickly saddled a third with Lancelot's help and within seconds they were riding out of the stables and heading towards the city gates.

'Which one should we make for?' Gwaine asked.

'East,' Merlin called back, just as the warning bells began to ring. The delay in sounding them struck Merlin as odd. He wondered who had had a hand in keeping them silenced for a little longer. It might have bought them the time they needed. 'We need the cover of the forest.' Neither argued with his logic. But even as they galloped through the city, startling several of the townsfolk who were forced to jump back quickly to avoid being trampled, they realised their problem. With the warning bell sounding, all orders would be to close the gates. As they rounded the last street, that was proven to be the case. The guards were closing them.

'Faster!' Gwaine yelled at them, spurring his horse on until it was all but flying across the cobbles. Merlin followed suit, as did Lancelot, urging the creatures on.

'Merlin,' Lancelot called quietly, only just audible over the gallop of hooves. 'I won't elbow you in the chest this time,' he said meaningfully. Merlin nodded as he caught his drift and then fixed his attention on the hinges of the gate; he uttered a few words, that would mould them into place temporarily, and sure enough the progress of the gates stopped.

'Something's wrong,' Gwaine called to them. 'Now's our chance.' They both took their swords out as they got closer. The guards trying to close the gate, realising that it would not budge, stayed their efforts and drew their weapons as well, but the sheer force of the horses driving towards them, pushed them back before either of the knights had to swing their swords. Gwaine gave a yell of victory as they charged through the gates and galloped towards the cover of the forest.

They rode for several hours, taking to streams when they could to try and hide their tracks, until at last Lancelot deemed it safe for them to stop. They did so and made camp as best they could with absolutely no supplies. A quick whispered spell ensured that they had a fire, and a lucky shot with Gwaine's sword meant that they had some rabbit for lunch. It was a meagre meal, but it did the trick. Throughout the meal, Lancelot was very quiet, but Gwaine was quite happy to talk. He chatted away, musing about all the times he'd found himself out in the wild fending for himself with not a single bit of silver or gold to his name. Merlin enjoyed hearing the tales of his many foolhardy exploits, but soon it became harder to concentrate on Gwaine. Thoughts of Arthur were beginning to consume him.

'Felt good to be fighting against noble men again for a change,' Gwaine grinned as he gnawed at a bone. 'Don't get me wrong, I'm all for knighthood and the like nowadays, but an illegal exploit every now and then really keeps me happy. Glad you changed your mind on the whole execution idea,' he added, giving Merlin a friendly shove. Merlin managed a small smile.

'Thank you, both of you,' he said. 'I don't know how I'd have got out of there otherwise.'

'Merlin,' Lancelot began uneasily. 'You were determined to go through with this…'

'Don't encourage him.'

'I'm not,' Lancelot continued, 'but we need to know: what changed your mind? You said you were a danger to Arthur. You said you couldn't risk it.'

'I was wrong.'

'We found the ritual, we found the spell,' he prompted. 'You were so convinced.'

'I know, but that spell wasn't used on me.'

'What? But you tried to kill Arthur.'

'No, I didn't. I remember now. I wasn't trying to kill Arthur, because that isn't Arthur.'

The knights reacted differently to the statement, but it was obvious that neither of them believed him. Lancelot frowned at him, scepticism and doubt written all across his features, while Gwaine just laughed.

'Not Arthur!' he cried. 'Come on, Merlin. That's far-fetched even for Camelot.'

'No it isn't. I'm telling you the truth.' He quickly filled them in on his missing memory and what it had revealed to him, but it did little to convince them.

'You said yourself that the sorcerer could imprint a memory or a vision on your mind at any time,' Lancelot pointed out slowly. 'What if that's what happened? What if that memory isn't real?'

'Why would the sorcerer do that?' Merlin asked. 'What would be the point?'

'He wants you to kill Arthur. Now you've got the perfect reason to. You think he's an imposter.'

'I know he's an imposter,' Merlin retorted.

'Merlin-'

'I know how this looks,' Merlin interrupted. 'I know it's insane, but trust me: that isn't Arthur. It wasn't a sorcerer influencing me; I'm not under any spell. There would be no point in a sorcerer giving me that memory as I was walking to my execution. No-one would have believed me if I'd said Arthur was an imposter. And there was no way I could escape to go and kill him anyway.'

'You might have found a way,' Lancelot said quietly, fixing Merlin with a stare.

Merlin considered it. He guessed that if the sorcerer had known about his magic, he might have hoped Merlin would use it to kill Arthur there and then, but that was by no means a sure thing. And besides, Merlin was quite sure by now that the sorcerer had no idea about his magic; he hadn't revealed it when he'd confronted the imposter and he certainly hadn't given Arthur-who-wasn't-Arthur any indication that he had magic since then.

'I don't think so,' he eventually replied.

There was a long and uncomfortable silence as the three men absorbed the words. Merlin could see on their faces that they weren't convinced. It wasn't that they didn't want to believe him –that much was more than obvious- it was just that the story seemed so far fetched. Merlin couldn't begrudge them their doubt. He was acting exactly as a man who had just been fed a false vision would do.

'I know it's not much to go on.'

'It's nothing to go on,' Gwaine agreed. 'I've seen a lot of things since I signed up, but Arthur as an imposter.' He shook his head. 'Nah, not a chance.'

'Why not?' Merlin pressed. 'How do you know he can't be an imposter?' Gwaine leant forwards, and gave him a sad smile and a shrug.

'Because, my friend, you'd have noticed an imposter straight away. To impersonate Arthur, they'd have to fool you, and you're not stupid. You know Arthur too well.'

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but a weight crashed down on him as he realised the logic and the truth in Gwaine's words. He was right. Merlin spent hours with Arthur every day and he had not suspected a thing until he saw the chest of magical items hidden away in the wardrobe.

'He's seemed different over the last few weeks,' Merlin pointed out weakly. 'We've all seen that. 'He's stronger again, more confident-'

'He's more like himself,' Gwaine interrupted gently. 'It was what he was like before that seemed odd. It just means he's getting over what Morgana did.'

'But,' Merlin persisted, 'if someone had been watching Arthur for a long time, they might well act his part in that way. If they knew Arthur well, if they'd seen the way Arthur and I interact, they could learn his mannerisms, how he reacts, everything,' Merlin tried. 'They could fool me.' But he could hear the desperation in his own words.

'Have you once, over the course of the last two days, seen anything in Arthur that made you think he was acting strangely?' Lancelot asked slowly. 'To keep up the pretence when emotions were running so high would have been difficult.'

Merlin opened and closed his mouth again and then got up. He began pacing across the camp. The question was a hard one; one that he didn't want to face. On many occasions, Arthur had acted exactly as Merlin had expected him to. At no point had he been suspicious. Except…

'Yes!' he shouted with determination. 'Yes, he has acted strangely. I woke up on the first night from a nightmare and he was there, watching me sleep. Why would Arthur have gone to the dungeons then, why would he stay if I was asleep?'

'He was worried for you, Merlin, we all saw it.'

'But Arthur doesn't keep vigils. He just doesn't,' Merlin argued. 'He's all about action. And when I woke up, he seemed genuinely at a loss for what to say to me.'

'Well if you were having a nightmare, he would be,' Gwaine pointed out. 'He's hardly the type to offer words of sympathy if-'

'The nightmare!' Merlin interrupted, his eyes going wide. He turned to face the other two, mouth open. 'I thought it was a vision, but it can't be if I'm not under any enchantment.'

'We don't know that-'

'He put it in my head,' Merlin carried on. 'The imposter. He put that nightmare in my head. Not like a vision,' he added quickly as Lancelot opened his mouth. 'He manipulated my dreams; that's easier magic. I would have thought,' he said quickly as Gwaine frowned at him. 'That's why he was in the dungeons that night: to carry out the spell; to convince me that I really was a danger; to ensure that I didn't try and fight the execution.'

'There's no way he could have known you'd submit to it,' Gwaine argued.

'Yes there is, because if he knows Arthur well -if he's been watching him- then he's been watching me as well. He would have done his research; he would have heard all the stories about Arthur and me saving each other's lives. This man knows me. He knows that I would never want to hurt Arthur, so he used the nightmare to convince me that it was inevitable.'

Lancelot shook his head sadly, and Gwaine wouldn't meet his gaze.

'I know it sounds crazy,' Merlin said desperately, 'but that makes sense. He acted oddly when I woke up; he stayed for a while and it felt like we didn't even know each other. He didn't say anything; he wasn't himself. He had no idea how to speak to me.'

'That doesn't mean he's an imposter,' Gwaine argued. 'It's means he's Arthur and he doesn't have a clue how to help someone in an emotional state. No offense,' he added quickly, but Merlin didn't care. Things were slotting into place. They were making sense to him and he needed the others to see it.

'That's not the only thing though. I had nightmares last night and I'm sure I heard someone outside the window.' Again the knights shook their heads; they were exchanging glances and looking at him with sympathy. 'Listen to what I'm saying!' he told them firmly. 'It's all there for you to see, if you'll just consider it. Give me a chance, please,' he begged. Another glance passed between them, but eventually Lancelot nodded.

'Alright Merlin, we're listening. What other proof do you have?'

'It was Arthur who found the remains of the ritual. You said yourself,' he continued, pointing at Lancelot, 'that it was a miracle he found it. It was a completely unwarranted place to go and search and yet Arthur went and managed to come across the one thing that would prove I was still a danger. Doesn't that seem odd to you?'

'But the fact is,' Gwaine pointed out, 'there was a magical ritual. If it's not being used on you, then who's it for?'

'Maybe it was never used. Maybe the imposter put it there during the night to convince me I was a danger to Arthur in the hopes that Uther would definitely execute me when he found out magic was involved.'

'He was trying to get Uther to clear your name,' Lancelot argued.

'Was he? Did any of you see him talking to Uther?'

'He told us,' the knight said.

'He also told you that I tried to kill him, but that was a lie. He wasn't trying to clear my name at all. He was trying to get rid of me.'

'Why? You're no threat.'

'I am, because I found out about him. He had no way of being sure I'd never remember, so what better way to deal with me then get me executed and assure my silence? By throwing in the murder attempt and pretending to fight against my execution, it just made sure that no-one else would become suspicious.' He looked firmly at them both. 'Can't you see how well his plan's working? Neither of you can believe it's not Arthur.'

'This is all down to circumstance. We haven't seen him act out of character once. Apart from after the nightmare -which could just be Arthur dealing badly with emotions- you haven't either,' Lancelot pointed out; scepticism still the main emotion on his face.

'Yes I have,' Merlin argued. 'When I walked towards the gallows, he was smirking at me. He was enjoying watching me walk to my death. That wasn't Arthur. That was the imposter making sure that I realised, when it was too late, that I'd got it wrong.'

'Nobody else saw that,' Lancelot added quietly.

'That's the point,' Merlin answered in frustration. 'It was meant for me alone. And,' he added, his eyes going wide as realisation churned through him. 'He forced me to threaten Uther again, to make sure I was executed.'

'How can he have forced you?'

'When I talked to him, I told him that if he tried to get me freed, I would threaten Uther. We all know what the King's like; he'll kill somebody instantly for that. Arthur –the imposter-' he saw Lancelot and Gwaine exchange another look, 'knew that I would go through with that. He left saying that he would release me himself; he knew that would force my hand.'

Around them, the breeze stirred the leaves of the trees and a chill encompassed them for several seconds. Gwaine threw a few extra pieces of wood on the fire and Lancelot stoked it carefully. Exhausted from the events of the day and the fight to prove his innocence, Merlin sat back down and stared into the flames.

'You know we want to believe you, Merlin,' Lancelot began gently.

'Then believe me,' he asked. 'Please. I was willing to go to my death to protect Arthur; I wouldn't have run from that fate unless I genuinely believed that the man we saw was an imposter.'

'But the fact is, Merlin, this could all be in your head. It could be an imprinted memory.'

'I know it isn't. If I had even the smallest doubt then I would say so, but I don't.'

'But what if it isn't true?' Gwaine asked, a seriousness coming into his tone; something that Merlin didn't hear very often. 'What if we take you back and you hurt Arthur -kill him even- only to discover that he is the real Arthur after all? What if you're wrong?

'What if I'm right?' he asked instead. 'What if I'm right and we're leaving Camelot at the mercy of a sorcerer posing as a Prince, while Arthur is kept prisoner somewhere?'

For the first time since he had started his explanation, Merlin saw a flicker genuine consideration cross the faces of the two men. He said nothing, not wanting to brush it away with words, but in the end, their resolve seemed to strengthen. Both of them shared a final look and then fixed their gaze on Merlin.

'Alright; you've convinced me…for now,' Gwaine nodded.

'And me,' Lancelot agreed. Merlin felt relief flood through him and a weight lifted from him as he once again found himself with the trust of his friends.

'But if you start hallucinating…' Gwaine began.

'Then you can kill me,' Merlin nodded.

'I wasn't going to be that extreme!' Gwaine told him incredulously.

'Oh.'

'But I'll knock you out.' Merlin nodded his thanks, but then glanced over at Lancelot. The knight looked far less laid back with the prospect of a hallucinating Merlin who needed to be contained. Eventually, though, he nodded his assent.

'Thank you,' Merlin breathed.

'What now then?' Gwaine asked.

'We go back to Camelot and we find Arthur. It's a rescue mission.'

'How do we know he's there? How do we even know he's alive?' Lancelot asked hesitantly.

'Because the spell the sorcerer's using to change his appearance requires the person he's impersonating to be alive if he wants to sustain it for more than a few weeks.'

'So, he's definitely alive?'

'Yes,' Merlin nodded, refusing to believe anything to the contrary. The final question circled silently around the three of them until at last Gwaine voiced it.

'So if the Arthur we've seen is an imposter, then where's the real Arthur?'

The question sent a coldness running through Merlin.

'I don't know.'

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