Hidden Motives

A/N: Glad you liked the last chapter and thank you for reviewing! Back to Merlin and the gang now. Let me know what you think!

And by the way, I get the impression that this story is going to be long, so settle yourselves down for quite a few more weeks of updates!

Anyway, on we go!

Chapter 11

'Merlin.'

Merlin turned over, fully awake. He had been expecting Lancelot's call as soon as he had heard Gwaine snoring gently. Merlin brushed himself down as he went to sit beside the knight who was keeping watch a few metres away, propped up against the thick trunk of an ancient tree. He lowered himself down beside his friend and they both sat in silence for several minutes, looking up at the moon which gave them a lopsided smile through the foliage.

'I'm sure about this,' Merlin began.

'I know you are, but if you're wrong, there's no way we'll be able to stop you,' Lancelot replied quietly.

'I'm not invincible. A sword, an arrow, a knife: anything will do enough damage to kill me. You just have to be quick.'

'That's of little comfort Merlin,' Lancelot said, fixing him with a tired smile. Merlin saw the worry in his eyes and nodded his agreement.

'I know, but it won't come to that, trust me. I'm not under any enchantment. You saw yourself that the counter curse didn't work.'

'You said that it had to be cast by the original magician.'

'I was guessing. It didn't say that in the book.' Merlin saw Lancelot scrape his boot along the ground, kicking at some fallen leaves. 'It will be alright.' Lancelot looked up at him and nodded.

'What's our plan then?' he asked, seemingly rallying from his doubts, at least for now.

'I'm not sure. Arthur must be in Camelot. The sorcerer would want him close by.'

'Surely someone would have seen something.'

'I don't know. He's a powerful sorcerer. The spell he's using -the one to mimic Arthur- takes a lot of skill. He could easily hide one person in the city, I'm sure.'

'Can you break the enchantment?'

'I don't know how to. That's one of the things that we'll have to put Gaius onto once we get back. If he can find a spell to reverse the effects then at least we'll have Uther on our side. We haven't got a chance of convincing him at the moment.'

'And what about us? What do we need to do?'

'We need to figure out who the sorcerer is. That will be the best starting point. If we know who we're dealing with, we can begin to guess at his next move.'

'Well, it must be someone who has a lot of access to Arthur. To be able to pull off the deception so effortlessly he must know Arthur well. He's probably been around for years.'

Merlin nodded, pleased that they were finding ways of moving forward with their information. All day, as they made their way back towards Camelot, Merlin had fought to ignore the thoughts about Arthur's plight that were filling his head. His friend's situation would only serve as a distraction and he couldn't afford even the slightest slip in concentration.

'And he's someone who knows the castle; I haven't noticed any uncertainty in him about where he should be,' Merlin added.

'Maybe a servant?'

'I don't know if a sorcerer of that strength could hide as a servant for so long.' Merlin heard the irony in his words as he said them and smiled sheepishly at Lancelot.

'I'm willing to bet he could,' the knight returned. 'Maybe it's a knight; they know Arthur well enough. If it is someone in the castle, then they must have left within the last few weeks or months to prepare for their impersonation.'

'That could be any number of people.'

'But it narrows it down. Can you think of anyone who's left in the past few months or so?'

Merlin thought back, but it was difficult. After Morgana's takeover, hundreds of people went missing; most were presumed dead, but many had not been accounted for. He shared a glance with Lancelot who seemed to realise the same thing. It could be anyone.

'We need more to go on,' Merlin sighed.

'Must be a fighter.' Both of them jumped as Gwaine's sleepy voice broke into their conversation. 'Look at you girls; frightened by the smallest of sounds.' He got up and joined them, putting his head back against the trunk and closing his eyes as soon as he did. 'If you're coming up with a plan and you want me to stick to it, I wouldn't mind being in on it.'

The ease with which he was talking convinced Merlin that Gwaine hadn't heard the initial part of their conversation. But he was right, if there was any chance he was going to do as they wanted, he would have to be involved in the planning; they would just have to leave out a few magical details of any strategy they came up with.

'What do you mean?' he asked. Gwaine seemed to have fallen asleep again; Merlin nudged him gently. 'Gwaine!' he hissed. The man sniffed and blinked at Merlin. 'Why must he be a fighter?'

'Because he still trained with the knights. You said he'd been impersonating Arthur for two weeks? Well, he didn't miss a single training session; in fact he put more on.'

'And he could fight?'

'Well enough,' Gwaine shrugged. 'He didn't take part as much as he normally does, but he knew what he was talking about.'

'Perhaps he feared his fighting style did would give him away,' Lancelot suggested.

'Alright,' Merlin nodded. 'So someone who worked in the castle, probably a soldier or knight, and someone who saw Arthur a lot.'

'And had access to the royal wing in order to kidnap Arthur.'

'Or else could sneak in,' Gwaine pointed out.

Merlin sighed again. There was no doubt that their suspects were now considerably narrowed down, but by no means did they have a definitive answer.

'So, what's the plan?' Gwaine asked. 'Storm in to Camelot, demand that the imposter tells us where Arthur is and hope he doesn't incinerate us with magical fire?'

'Maybe something a little more subtle,' Merlin murmured.

'That is subtle for us.'

'Merlin's right,' Lancelot interrupted. 'We need to get in undetected.'

'Well that's easy,' Gwaine shrugged.

'How?'

'Come on Merlin; you can get people in an out of that place without anyone knowing. I've seen you do it.'

'Getting in isn't the problem,' Merlin agreed. 'It's knowing what to do afterwards.'

'What about hiding with Gaius?' Lancelot suggested. Merlin shook his head.

'It's first place the imposter would look.'

'Then what shall we do?'

All three men fell silent for several minutes. Around them, the night was alive with the scratches and whispers of animals and the swish of the wind through branches. They were quite close to Camelot once again and so had tried to find a more obscure camp for the night. The imposter would definitely be expecting their return now that they knew the truth and he had no doubt set up several search parties that were currently patrolling the outlying lands. Merlin knew that he was subconsciously checking every sound that reached his ears, making sure that it didn't carry the hint of a threat or an attack. It made for an eerie contemplation, but soon Lancelot broke the silence.

'I have an idea,' he ventured carefully. 'It's dangerous and risky.'

'Well in that case, I'm in,' Gwaine grinned at them.

'What's your plan?' Merlin asked. Lancelot took a deep breath and began.

Merlin normally liked keeping watch; as much as he enjoyed his sleep, there was something about being awake at night in the forest that gave him such clarity of thought; such focus. But those two things -which he usually revelled in and made the most of- were now forcing him to address questions and issues that he had been trying hard to avoid.

Where was Arthur? That one was an infuriating question. Somewhere in Camelot wasn't good enough and yet he had nothing else to go on. He assumed that the sorcerer had been visiting Arthur regularly to take him food, and Merlin hadn't noticed any long periods of time when not-Arthur had gone missing. Surely that meant that Arthur was close to the castle, but where? During his many escapades over the years, Merlin had learnt plenty about the places in Camelot that no-one else had any knowledge of and that was one of the things that he was hoping to do as soon as he reached the city; check those places for traces of Arthur. But he was painfully aware that he didn't know all of Camelot's secrets. There were no doubt tunnels and rooms and hideouts that he would never find. Where was Arthur? Yes, that was definitely a question that he was desperate to know the answer to.

How was Arthur? That one made him feel more uncomfortable. The imposter's spell required Arthur to be alive, but it in no way required him to be healthy. From what Merlin had seen of the sorcerer, the man was unlikely to be making Arthur's stay comfortable. He had treated Merlin with an unwarranted malevolence. Yes, Merlin may have found out about his plan and discovered his true identity, but to toy with him as he had; to give him that last dreadful moment of clarity as he walked to the gallows –that was not a being who felt any compulsion towards compassion. Still, that malevolence had saved Merlin's life; he wasn't sure, however, that it would do the same for Arthur.

But the worst question of all, the one that was robbing him of all peace and focus, was the one that he directed angrily at himself. How had he not noticed? That was the question that was circling most loudly around his head. Gwaine was right; if anyone should have noticed that Arthur wasn't Arthur it was Merlin. If only he'd realised, then all of this could have been avoided. He could have played along with the imposter, followed him to find out where he was keeping Arthur. If only he hadn't challenged the imposter when he first found the chest full of potions; he should have been smart about it; should have bided his time. Why had he been so impulsive, so arrogant that he believed he could handle whatever the sorcerer threw at him? If not for him, everything could have been avoided.

He was supposed to be Arthur's protector. What had he done to protect him this time? Nothing. He had happily carried on in his duties, oblivious to the fact that the man he was serving was an enemy who was planning to take over Camelot. He should have known.

And of course, now that he understood and had had chance to think back over the last few weeks, he could see the signs. Subtle and small, but they had been there if he'd just put them together. The suddenness of the change in Arthur's attitude from withdrawn and unsure to confident and strong. Merlin had been pleased to see it; had even, to a certain extent, believed he'd had a hand in bringing Arthur out of his darkness. And then after that, the way Arthur treated him hadn't been quite right. Yes, Arthur had always given him endless chores and jobs, but something about how he'd dished them out of late hadn't sat right with Merlin. Usually, Arthur would give him his jobs with a sort of wry smile on his face; trying not to grin as Merlin's face grew stormier and stormier, but recently he hadn't done that. He had listed off chores without any undertones of playfulness; there had been little room for Merlin to complain in return and when he had, Arthur hadn't always responded with his usual sarcasm. Merlin had put it down to the stress that Arthur was under now that he was King in all but title, but in hindsight that did not seem to fit.

On top of that, Arthur had kept him so busy that Merlin had barely seen him some days. The busyness in itself wasn't so unusual, but the lack of Arthur visiting him to torment him or encourage him into a conversation in his chambers should have been a sign to Merlin that things weren't quite right.

He should have realised. He should have known. And yet he hadn't. He had allowed Arthur to be captured from right under his nose and hadn't even realised that it had happened. What sort of protector did that make him? How did it fit into his destiny?

The dark blue of dawn began to creep into the sky as Merlin continued in his guilt ridden thoughts. He had been meant to wake Gwaine for the last watch, but he knew he wouldn't get any sleep and, in all likelihood, it was Gwaine that was going to need his energy for the day. And so he let the sun cast its golden shadows across the sky before finally waking his two companions. They were awake and alert instantly, both wearing the same stern faces; nobility and determination written across their features.

'Ready?' Merlin asked them. They nodded wordlessly and, as the sun finally slipped into the sky, their camp was abandoned. There was no evidence that they had ever been there.

Slipping past the imposter's numerous patrols had been difficult, but a simple disguise had allowed them to travel more inconspicuously. It had required a minor detour to one of the outlying towns to steal -which Merlin liked to think of as borrowing- three sets of clothes. Once they had hidden their bright Camelot cloaks, Gwaine and Lancelot were able to pass as commoners. Their confident stride and straight posture gave them away a little, but Merlin had pointed it out to them and they had adjusted their gait accordingly.

Both of them had, understandably, refused to part with their swords, which meant that they were also required to 'borrow' two cloaks, but they helped to conceal the weapons and obscure the men's faces more convincingly.

With as much of a disguise in place as was possible, they made their way back to Camelot. They had left the horses at some stables in a second town, promising several coins to the surprised stable hand on their return for the creatures. If he realised that they were royal horses he made no comment, but Gwaine upped their price just to ensure that the man's silence would hold.

After that, they had stuck to quiet paths that ran towards the city, rather than the main road, but had avoided travelling through the forest and wilder landscapes fearing that it would arouse too much suspicion if they were seen. They heard several patrols, but were able to hide or avoid them, although it did slow them down.

Once they got to Camelot, however, they blended in well. Fortunately, their return coincided with Camelot's market day. People were making their way into the city in the hopes of making exchanges and profits. On realising this an hour or so before they were due to arrive in the city, Gwaine had 'borrowed' a cart as its owner slept on obliviously in the forest campsite he had set up. Merlin continued to tell himself that it was necessary to find Arthur, but made a note of what the owner looked like and which direction he was coming from in the hopes of one day paying him back.

With everything they could hope to acquire for their journey back into Camelot, the men set up the final part of their deception. They had already decided that Merlin's face was far too familiar. He wouldn't even get into the citadel before people spotted him and raised the alarm. Years of walking side by side with Arthur as the Prince made trips through the town, had made Merlin almost as recognisable as the Prince himself. The fact that Merlin endeared himself to everybody also didn't help matters. People remembered the faces of those who were kind to them and Merlin had an abundance of that trait inside him. Because of this, Merlin was bundled into the cart and buried under sacking which was then covered with the supplies that the owner of the cart had been intending to sell.

He hated it. The vulnerability he felt was terrible, and the fact that he could not see what was going on made everything seem all the more threatening. Lancelot and Gwaine, however, kept up a steady stream of explanations and conversations to ensure that he was as up to date on the situation as he could be when lying in a cart with the rest of the world obscured from view.

Gwaine was their second biggest problem. He had more than made himself known throughout the city during the time he had been there and generally not for the best reasons; but either way, people recognised him. So it was that he took on a more stooped walk to ensure that his face was kept low and out of sight. The job of steering and greeting, therefore, fell to Lancelot. It wasn't that he was unknown, not by a long shot, but there was something very unassuming and reserved in Lancelot that meant that while people could talk about his nobility and his brave exploits, they were hard pressed to pick him out in a crowd. He had never sought to be the centre of attention and, as such, people tended to let him pass them by. Merlin only hoped that that quality would be their saving grace now.

It was mid-morning by the time they made the journey into the city. They had purposely chosen that time to ensure that the crowds would be thicker and provide more protection, but Merlin was beginning to regret it aas he baked under the sacking in the strong sunshine. Lancelot whispered to him when they had arrived, but he felt the change in motion as the cart was pushed over the worn cobbles that lined the main streets.

Several times they stopped and Merlin could hear the slightly muffled tones of Gwaine or Lancelot exchanging conversation. Both of them changed their voices: Lancelot to a rougher, lower version of his speech, and Gwaine by changing his accent, although the result sounded even more suspicious to Merlin. It seemed to pass, however, and soon Merlin felt the ground become softer as they slipped into the side streets. There was some hurried movement of the cart and the sound of quick footsteps, before the supplies on top of Merlin were removed and the sacks were pulled back.

He blinked against the harsh light and shielded his eyes, but welcomed the cool rush of air which brushed away the moisture that had formed on his skin. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, by which time Gwaine and Lancelot had all but pulled him out of the cart and pushed him deeper into the alley in which they had hidden themselves. It wasn't the best hiding place in the world, but they would soon be moving on.

'How are we doing so far?' Merlin asked.

'Good,' Lancelot nodded. 'The soldiers are definitely on alert, but so far they've barely looked our way.'

'The only reason we had to stop a few times was because people wanted to trade,' Gwaine continued. 'Here…' He tossed an apple to Merlin which he had pulled from his pocket. 'Got a dozen for one of the baskets. Not bad.' He bit into a second one that he had stored in the cart. Merlin felt his mouth water at the food and shrugged off his guilt that they were selling the cart owner's goods. He needed strength to carry out the rescue and he had barely eaten since yesterday afternoon.

As he chewed, Merlin looked around at the familiar territory. He hadn't taken this route before, but if his guesses were correct –and generally they were- it would only take a few minutes to navigate the back alleys of this part of the town and then they would find themselves at their destination.

'We need to carry on,' he nodded at both of them. They moved aside and let him lead the way. Keeping his head down to avoid recognition from the slightly unsavoury characters lurking along their journey, Merlin pressed forward. Using his knowledge of the town, he made judgements on directions and distance, pausing only a few times when he was presented with two options. Lancelot and Gwaine remained quiet in a way that made Merlin nervous. The few times he glanced back at them, he noticed that they had dropped their more common postures and movements and had reverted back to what were clearly the gaits of two well trained knights of the realm. Merlin pointed it out to them and, with effort, they corrected their walks.

A few minutes later, they had moved out of the more 'interesting' areas of the town and found themselves in the back alleys of a safer and gentler area, which was unnervingly close to the castle walls. The change meant that they no longer had to question what it was that they were treading in as they navigated the narrow streets, but it did mean that there were more people using the shortcuts. Heads down, senses alert, they pressed on until eventually they spilled out onto a dark courtyard area that several houses backed on to. Across from them, the alley led back out onto the main streets, but they had no intention of moving there.

Without hesitating, Merlin made for a door that was three doors up on the right. It was locked and, had Gwaine not been there Merlin would have used magic and saved damaging it, but as it was, the knight took one look at Merlin studying the lock and then kicked the door in himself.

'Gwaine!' Lancelot hissed in annoyance. A yell of shock came from inside, making them all turn.

'What? How else were we going to get in?'

'How about knocking,' Lancelot told him forcefully as he pushed past the knight hastily and followed Merlin into the room.

Merlin, with the same sense of urgency, moved forward, wanting to reassure the owner of the voice, who had just yelled in fear, that everything was fine. He couldn't stop a smile as he caught sight of her terrified expression, but on seeing them, it quickly changed to one of immense relief. She rushed over to him and hugged him tightly.

'Merlin,' she breathed.

'Gwen,' he smiled, hugging her tightly back. 'Sorry about the door.'

'Yeah, sorry,' Gwaine added sheepishly. 'Though you'd be out.'

'No, no, it's fine,' she assured them, stepping back and looking at Merlin; her joy and relief at seeing him more than evident on her face. 'What are you all doing here?' she asked breathlessly.

'I'm really sorry, Gwen,' Merlin said to her, knowing that if Arthur were with them, he would not under any circumstances allow her to be drawn into the plan. Then again, if he was here, then there wouldn't be any need for a plan. Merlin mentally gave a pointed look to the Arthur in his imagination and then looked seriously at Gwen. 'We need your help.'

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