Hidden Motives

A/N: Thank you for being so patient. I'm back from holiday now, so updates can begin again. I'm away again in a few of weeks' time, but I think the story might be finished by then, so that'll be fine. Thank you again for all you lovely reviews! Please let me know what you think of this one.

Chapter 23

Everything looked different.

Not just because of the shield of energy that was still wrapped around him and which was tingeing his surroundings with a bluish hue. No, that wasn't it.

Everything in his entire world looked different, was different; had to be different.

Suddenly, things he'd accepted since he was a child, things that had become even more engrained in him over the last few years, seemed to shift in his mind. He could feel his thoughts and prejudices and principles twisting and turning; trying to mould themselves into something that would make sense of the situation. But there was nothing that could balance out what he was seeing in front of him. His sense of equilibrium was rapidly disintegrating and he could feel the world pitching around him.

He pushed all his thoughts, all his fears, all his anger deep down inside himself, hiding it away, forcing it into silence. He couldn't address the situation; he just couldn't. He felt his mind calm and relax into a blankness that allowed him to process what was happening around him, without the paralysing understanding that was lurking on the edges of his consciousness; waiting to crush him into pieces.

Across the room, Sythe was snarling with anger at his failed attempt on Arthur's life. He stepped forward, his hands raised once more; twisting the familiar features of Arthur's manservant –manservant and friend; nothing more, nothing less- into a terrible expression of hatred. But even as he began to utter the words, Merlin was already rushing towards Arthur, standing in front of him, calling out words, which Arthur didn't understand -didn't want to understand, pretended weren't coming from the man's mouth- so that Sythe's attacks were met with equally powerful ones.

So powerful; so terrifying in their power. He saw them both; saw the mirror of their abilities.

No! He pushed the thoughts down, willed his heart to calm. He saw Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. His manservant and friend –loyal friend- the man who had stood beside him when a situation was desperate and dangerous. But then, how dangerous could those situations have been for someone who…?

Arthur clenched his fists at his side, imagining that he was crushing the thoughts to dust until they trickled like fine sand onto the floor.

The air was shimmering and shaking with…power –that was all Arthur could bring himself to call it.

'You think you can beat me boy!' Sythe spat; his voice amplified somehow, shimmering like an echo.

'I know I can beat you,' Merlin replied. Sythe was thrown backwards by an invisible force. Arthur tried to push Merlin's words away; tried to not-hear what had been said; how much confidence there had been in them.

'Really?'

And suddenly, Merlin wasn't there anymore. Arthur saw him high in the air, held there by some invisible force, kicking frantically at the air. And the relief that flowed through Arthur at seeing the situation his friend was in filled him with shame. But it meant something, meant that Merlin wasn't that terrifying weapon of…power that he had been moments ago.

High above him, Arthur heard Merlin's voice cry out across the cavern. The ground beneath Arthur began to tremble and shudder; so much so that he couldn't keep his balance. He fell to the side, but his eyes didn't leave Merlin's body. He wished they had. He saw the outstretched hands once more; saw the blast of lightning-like force that emanated from them; felt his shield of protection flicker and falter and saw Sythe throw up his own in anticipation, but the strike wasn't aimed at him. It was the ground at the man's feet that absorbed the full might of the earth shattering -quite literally- blow.

Merlin dropped to the ground, crying out as he landed on the arm where Arthur's knife was still embedded, but instantly he was on his feet again. He didn't look at Arthur, but every movement of his body, every turn he took made sure that he was blocking Sythe from his friend. It wasn't necessary, however. The floor where Sythe stood had crumbled, rocks shattering in all directions, propelling themselves across the room like arrows. Arthur threw up his hands to protect his face, but Merlin's shout and the sudden warmth around him, told him that he was shielded again. He backed up, tried to scramble away from everything, but he couldn't. His muscles weren't responding to his mind's instructions and Merlin was there, in front of him, brimming with…power. Arthur closed his eyes, ran his hands over his face and tried to take deep breaths, even as Sythe's figure disappeared into the ground, his hands flailing.

'Run!' He heard the voice as if it was an echo form years gone by. Arthur started to look towards the voice, instinctively turning to it, but he caught himself in time; he couldn't look Merlin in the eye. 'You need to get out of here. He'll be back any second.'

Arthur could see Merlin from the corner of his eye. He wasn't looking either; their gazes hadn't met, couldn't, would never connect in the same way they had done before. Arthur felt the finality of the moment, felt an emptiness suddenly swirl through his chest.

'Arthur!' The tone was more urgent now and oh-so-familiar. Merlin was beginning to turn towards him, Arthur could sense it. Unconsciously he scrambled back. He saw the way Merlin tensed, and briefly, just for a second, he looked at him. Instantly, he read the hurt in Merlin's eyes and in the way he held himself, but it only made him angry. What right did Merlin have to be hurt? What right did he have to tense with grief and regret? What right did he have when… No! Arthur berated himself again. Not now, he couldn't think about this now. Not now, not ever. He needed to go back, go back to a place where he hadn't seen everything that was now inescapably fixed in his mind.

'I don't run!' He heard himself shouting the words as he stood up. He had no idea why he said them, or what he expected Merlin to say.

'Well then, strategically manoeuvre,' Merlin told him, just as loudly. Arthur felt the emptiness deepen. It sounded like his friend; like a ghost of the manservant. The familiarity of it struck like a knife. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't understand.

'Arthur!' This time Merlin was shouting, and suddenly he was there, in front of Arthur. Arthur couldn't escape the gaze this time, couldn't banish Merlin to the peripherals of his visions. He looked at his manservant; saw him; knew who he was and he found himself frozen in place. He looked at the man who had been beside him for so many years and almost cried at the recognition he saw in every feature. The truth was inescapable; whatever this man in front of him could do, whoever he was; Arthur knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was Merlin. 'Please get out of here,' he said. 'You need to survive.'

Arthur couldn't form any words, couldn't create any response, but he did find himself moving backwards, heading for the tunnel that he had come through. He didn't turn his back on Merlin; he couldn't work out why not, but the look on his manservant's face told him the answer.

'Arthur…' Merlin called, his voice quiet and sombre in the dark room. Behind him, light was beginning to flash from the crater that had just been blasted into the floor. 'Please, don't think that I…' He shook his head, pressed his lips together and stepped back. The sincerity, the fear, the desperation: all of it drove the emptiness further into Arthur. He shook his head as well and turned around; heading for the tunnel.

He didn't remember anything of the next few minutes. All he could see was Merlin's face, that final plea to… To what? Arthur didn't even know. He went through the tunnel, reached the rope and began to pull himself up, heedless of the fact that the bandages on his hands had slipped; heedless of the fact that Gwaine was holding the rope with a phenomenal strength, heedless of the fact that there was a slight echo of rustling metal; heedless of the fact that he was walking into an ambush.

Even as he reached the ledge and was hauled up by four guards, he struggled to muster up the shock that he knew he should feel and the fight that he knew he should attempt, but he just couldn't. Nothing could surpass the revelation that he had just borne witness to; nothing could soften its blow and nothing could make it go away.

When he was thrown into the dungeon cell, he barely registered hitting the floor.

Merlin watched Arthur's retreating form with a despair that he had never felt before. In all the times he'd imagined Arthur finding out, he had never considered the utter desolation that would accompany it. He knew it would be terrible, of course; how could it not be when it revealed to Arthur the lies that he had been telling for five years, the deception that had been Merlin's entire interaction with the Prince since the moment they met?

But this…This was so much worse than he had ever dared to believe. He could almost physically feel the chasm opening between them, he could feel the earth moving, drawing them away from each other across an unreachable divide of betrayal and mistrust that could never be crossed.

The shattering impact of power smashing into his back hurled him from his desperate musings and he felt himself being thrown across the room, only to crash into the floor, his injured arm screaming white fire at him and his other arm twisting sickeningly underneath him. He rolled onto his back, barely able to breathe after the impact and saw Sythe walking towards him, evidently having pulled himself out of the crater Merlin had created. He'd never expected it to stop the sorcerer; he had just wanted to buy the time needed for Arthur to escape.

For a moment, however, Merlin thought he'd miscalculated something, because it was Arthur that was walking towards him. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, but it still showed him the Prince.

'I know I said that being Arthur was getting tiresome,' Sythe smiled at him, as Merlin pushed himself shakily to his feet, 'but if you ask me, being you has served its purpose. It's a shame really; I had so much planned in your shoes. I suppose I'll have to content myself with being the arrogant Prince.'

'I will stop you,' Merlin told him firmly. 'It's over, Sythe.'

'Perhaps,' he grinned, 'but who is it over for, Merlin? Quite a show you put on for your magic hating master.'

Merlin said nothing; there was nothing that he could say to counter Sythe's words. He had shown Arthur the devastating power of his magic; there had been no gentle introduction, no explanation; just his instinctual magic being unleashed at close to its full potential.

'You may as well give up now,' Sythe continued. 'He won't trust you ever again. Even if you beat me and he is accepted as the real Prince, your death will be the first command he gives.' Merlin pressed his lips together, tried to block out the words, but they were silky and smooth, and tinged with just enough truth as to make them seem irrefutable.

But killing him? Would Arthur really have him killed? Merlin wanted to deny it; after all, Arthur had shown no violence towards him after he'd understood the truth just now. But he had been shocked, Merlin told himself; Arthur had never looked so confused and so lost.

'You can't argue with me can you,' Sythe smiled. 'Either way, it's over for you, Merlin. Your precious Prince has turned against you.'

The words bore into Merlin's heart and soul with agonising intensity, so much so that he was barely able to deflect the blast of power that Sythe once again sent towards him. A pathetic shield deflected around half the impact, but the rest sent him skidding back across the floor.

He threw his own attack back, but it was clumsy and lacked the power that was needed to knock Sythe of balance. The man deflected it easily.

'All those years of secrecy laid bare,' the sorcerer shouted at him, accompanying the words with a lightning-like strike that sent spasms of pain shuddering through him. 'And so close to Morgana's betrayal and magical revelation. You've changed everything that ever bound the two of you together.' Merlin tried to regain focus, but his mind kept on flashing in different directions. So many secrets and lies that had defined him as a person, and now Arthur knew.

He raised his hand and uttered a spell which sent a plume of fire hurtling towards Sythe, but seconds later, steam filled the room as it hit a barrier of water that the sorcerer had thrown up. It was quickly followed by dagger like shards of rock, from the crater remains of Merlin's earlier spell, bearing down on him like arrows. This time all he could do was try and batter them off course with a wave of his hand and a hastily put together enchantment. The majority were deflected, but more than one got past and embedded into his skin, cutting through the chain mail. One scraped his cheek, another sliced into his side and yet another rammed into the top of his leg. He gave a yell of pain and hastily pulled them out, knowing that he shouldn't, but wanting to stop the sharp pains from throbbing through his body.

With a shout, he tried to throw Sythe backwards, but his concentration was faltering and it only pushed the man back a couple of steps.

'Perhaps you were wrong,' he said calmly, 'perhaps you won't beat me after all. But I don't want it all to be over just yet,' he said with a sigh, as if Merlin really was inconveniencing his plans. 'I want you to see the fall of your Prince. I think we've given him enough time now, don't you?'

'If you do anything to harm him…'

'I'm not going to do anything. Really, this time, it's your fault,' he said with an apologetic shrug. Merlin felt himself freeze.

'What are you talking about?'

'I mean that by now, the guards should have him. They're waiting in the old dragon's cave. That's right isn't it?' he asked, with a frown of feigned confusion. Merlin didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. 'I wanted to find out how you got in before,' he smiled. 'As soon as I heard you calling me,' –he tapped his head-, 'I sent them to cut you off. Of course, you were already down here by then and I suppose Arthur must have just got there before them, but no worries; they'll have caught him on the way back up.' He walked further forward until he was crouching next to Merlin. Merlin felt his magic surging through him, ready to defend and attack at the slightest movement from Sythe, but the man only crouched down beside him.

'It's been invigorating, Merlin,' he smiled, 'but if you'll excuse me, I have an imposter to interrogate and execute.'

Merlin took a deep breath, and allowed his magic to direct itself, but before the surge could leave him, he felt Sythe's hand on his shoulder, and suddenly, all the magic he'd been preparing to throw at Sythe seemed to reverberate around his body. He felt his back arch, was vaguely aware of his head striking the ground with enough force to blind him for several seconds, while his limbs snapped back and forth at impossible angles.

The last thing he heard before his mind descended into blackness was Sythe's voice, still shimmering with a dangerous gentleness.

'Just remember: Arthur will die, knowing you for who you really are.'

Merlin felt a tear roll down his cheek, and then he felt nothing.

.

.

.

.

.