A/N: Greetings mortals. Next chapter is here - with the (sort of!) return of Merlin! Enjoy and thank you for all your reviews, I want to look you all deep in the eyes and whisper sweet nothings to you.

Morgan gave him a sideways look and sipped her mojito. "Are you all right?" she asked gently.

"What?" Martin said. "Yes. Yeah, I'm fine."

This wasn't true.

He could have sworn he'd heard someone whisper his name.

Arthur woke to the sound of pigeons cooing nearby. For a minute, he was so sure he was back in Camelot that when he opened his eyes and found himself staring at Merlin's studio flat ceiling, he was momentarily confused. Then he blinked, and remembered everything, and the feeling passed.

He sat up and promptly hit his head on the ceiling.

"Yeowch!" He cringed and rubbed his head, glaring at the eaves. Only Merlin would put his bed in a place where you would maim yourself getting out of it.

There were still pigeons cooing. He slipped out of the bed carefully and went to investigate.

There was a balcony outside the window which Arthur had not noticed before. A line of pigeons were sitting outside it, glaring at him. There was a sack of bird food sitting on the windowsill. Arthur was suddenly reminded of how Merlin used to feed birds out of Arthur's bedroom window, until they had started waking him up and he had forbidden Merlin to do it again. Merlin had pouted, sulked, then continued doing it anyway.

Some things, Arthur thought with hope, never change.

He grabbed a handful of bird food and opened the window, throwing it out to the pigeons below.

For luck.

When Sarah came to pick him up, he was shaking a box of cereal by his ear distrustfully. She rolled her eyes.

"Well, at least you survived the night," she said. "Come on, let's go."

"We're going to get the tube today," Sarah said as they walked along the road. It was a sunny day, and everything seemed brighter than it had the day before; Arthur couldn't help himself turning around occasionally, trying to take everything in, and it was only Sarah forcibly pulling his arm that kept them going. "You might as well learn sooner rather than later," Sarah continued. "Think you can handle it?"

Arthur shot her a look. "I've faced dragons," he said. "I've faced whole armies and legions of the undead. Nothing in this world can frighten me."

"The light bulb scared you," Sarah pointed out, but she was smiling.

Going underground was a little unnerving, but it was lit, unlike quite a lot of caves Arthur had been in in the past, so he soon got over it. Escalators were just pure fun. When they arrived on the platform, the doors of the train were just closing, but Sarah threw out a casual hand and they halted just long enough for her and Arthur to scramble aboard.

Arthur shot her a filthy look when the doors finally closed. She flashed him an innocent smile. "I can control machinery," she said casually. "And, you know. Doors and things."

"So I see," Arthur said archly.

The train started up. "You'll want to hold onto one of the poles," Sarah said, looking away and holding onto a blue one as she spoke. "For balance."

Arthur snorted and crossed his arms. "I'm a knight," he told her. "I can jump onto a running horse's back. I can leap across burning wreckage in full armour. I have perfect balance."

The train jerked into action. Arthur stumbled backwards, very almost colliding with the old man standing behind him, and only just saved himself from falling on his arse by clinging desperately to one of the blue poles.

Sarah winked down at him. "So I see," she echoed.

They emerged into the daylight relatively unscathed, though Arthur had adopted a new hatred of the tube and loudly spent the journey proclaiming that he would never ride on one again. A few people, mistaking this for hatred of high tube fees, politely listened and then applauded him - much to his bafflement. By the time they reached the crappy print shop, Sarah was nearing the end of her tether.

The atmosphere when they finally got inside their disguised HQ, however, was enough to knock them both out of their bad moods. On one of the tables a large crystal globe was set up, and around it sat the rest of Merlin's Magicians; moustached Donald and skinhead Turk were flipping through old books, ten-year-old Dan was tapping on what Sarah had called a 'computer' and Jocelyn was focusing intently on the swirling clouds inside the globe.

Arthur halted at the threshold, staring at the globe. The rest glanced up at him.

"And so the king returns," Turk said dryly.

Jocelyn flashed Arthur a small smile. "It's just a crystal ball," she said. "Nothing to be afraid of."

Arthur stayed resolutely on the threshold. "I know what it is," he replied, and his voice sounded colder than he had meant it to. "They had them in Camelot. Those with sorcery used them to attack us."

There was an uncomfortable silence. "We're not like them," Donald said at last.

Arthur shook his head, suddenly wanting to run as fast as possible out of the building. He had not considered until now that this mismatched group of people really had magic. They seemed so innocent. And magicians were dangerous, and evil, and corrupt, and he couldn't -

He took a step back. "You don't understand," he said. "The things I have seen magic do - the people who wield magic - "

"As in save your life, you mean?" Donald retorted. "Like the Professor did? Or save your kingdom? Repeatedly."

"No," Arthur protested, "No, I didn't mean - "

"You know, I could just make him not care," Dan drawled lazily from his chair, swinging his legs in the air. "He hasn't got any magic, I can affect him. A few words from me and he would love magic."

He sneered over at Arthur. Arthur flinched away, and Sarah tutted and put her hands on her hips.

"Stop it, Dan, you're not helping," she snapped. "And Arthur, come back in."

"This was clearly a big mistake," Arthur retorted, drawing away.

"No," Sarah said. "No - Arthur, we're friends of the Prof - we're friends of Merlin, he trusted us, you can trust us, you know that."

Arthur remembered, suddenly, Merlin's letter, his painfully familiar scrawl flashing before him.

Jocelyn said gently, "Arthur, I am going to find the Professor. You want to find him, well so do we. He's our guide."

"And our teacher," said Donald.

"And our friend," Turk finished.

"Come on," Sarah coaxed, holding out a hand. "Arthur, come on."

Arthur hesitated, then reached forward and took her hand.

They gathered around the crystal ball.

"Now," Jocelyn said. "I can filter through all the magical beings I find, but I will need the support of you all to help me. Will you share your power with me?"

The other four magicians nodded, and simultaneously reached forward and placed a hand on the ball. It glowed under their touch. Arthur stared at them all.

"How can you do that?" he asked. "Share magic?"

"Something the Prof taught us," Sarah said. "Something he learnt not long ago. Equality and all that."

"We're kind of like a new round table," Donald said, and smiled at the startled look at Arthur's face.

"Arthur, I need your help too," Jocelyn said.

Arthur frowned. "I don't have magic."

"I know," Jocelyn said, "But you do know Merlin. I need that familiarity, that closeness."

Arthur eyed the ball. "I don't know how to," he said.

"Just put your hand on it and think of Merlin," Jocelyn said. "Concentrate on what you remember of him, everything you know of him."

Arthur hesitated again, but he couldn't go back now. He reached forward and touched the globe. The glass was slippery under his fingertips. It glowed gently, and then even more when Jocelyn touched it.

"Focus," she told them all.

Arthur closed his eyes and focused.

He thought of Merlin - his Merlin, the young Merlin. He thought of red neckerchiefs, and astounding clumsiness, and ridiculous ears, and a smile that could outshine the sun. He remembered the expression on Merlin's face as he died, remembered the feel of Merlin's arms around him. He remembered how Merlin had shouted him back to life for a second, a mere second, and then it had slipped away from him again, how the fog had closed in on him, how Merlin's face had slowly dissipated into that fog, despite Arthur's best efforts, despite all they had tried, everything had left him, it had separated them -

"Got him," said Jocelyn.

Arthur opened his eyes. There was now a little speck of pulsating light in the centre of the globe. It looked like nothing to Arthur, but Jocelyn was watching it intently. "It's definitely him," she said. "Alive and well."

Something settled in Arthur's stomach that he hadn't been aware was troubling him until now. But then Jocelyn frowned. "There's something wrong," she said. "Something…it is him…but it's as if his power is veiled or something."

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah, sounding worried.

"Well, usually the Professor's magic is very strong and very bright," Jocelyn said. "Unsurprising, considering how powerful and old he is, but…well, now it's dimmed. Like something is covering it."

Arthur glanced at the others, they all looked nervous, strained in the light of the globe. "Do you know where he is?" he asked.

Jocelyn focused harder. "That can't be right," she said. "No - but yes, it is - "

Arthur's hand started tingling, his heart thumping. "Where?" he demanded.

Jocelyn glanced up at him. "Close," she said. "He is very close."

Arthur stared at her. "Tell me where."

"By the Thames," she replied. "Right by the Thames."

Arthur snatched his hand away from the globe and leapt to his feet.

"Arthur, wait a minute - " Sarah started, but he was already dashing out of the door. The rest of them jumped to their feet. "Shit," Sarah said. "Shit, shit, shit!"

"What do we do?" Turk asked.

"Well, I don't know about you," Donald said, running for the door, "But I refuse to lose the King of the bloody Britons!"

And with that he was gone, with Sarah, Dan and Turk close on his heels.

Jocelyn slumped in her chair and watched the little light hover in the middle of her otherwise cloudy globe. There was something not right, she thought. Something not right at all.

She needed to go deeper.

Once Arthur had got the hang of where he was, it turned out the Thames was easy to find. It was a simple matter of tracking and he had been raised to be a hunter since birth. He knew how to memorise notable locations, and this London had them by the bucket load. He ran for it, Sarah and the others eventually catching him up.

"This is a bad idea," Sarah shouted at him as they shot past Trafalgar Square. "What if something's wrong with him?"

"We don't know until we find out!" Arthur retorted and sped up, until they had finally scrambled to the Embankment. There was a road separating them from the path directly by the Thames, and if it hadn't been for Sarah grabbing his arm, Arthur might have simply run straight into the oncoming traffic. They stood and caught their breath and surveyed the people wandering along the Embankment. The sun was bright, the large trees dappling the path with patterns of light and dark. The path was busy with people, but not too busy.

"This is daft," Dan was saying, "We don't even know how accurate that spell was - "

And then Arthur saw Merlin.

He was strolling along the path, slower than most of the other people who were walking at London pace, which was what had caught Arthur's attention, and his eyes were on the river before him. He was dressed in a dark jumper with a hood and trousers made of an odd, blue fabric, but it was him. It was his dark hair, his pale skin, his vaguely irritating way of slouching and shuffling. And then he stepped into a patch of sunlight and it was his face, it was Merlin's profile. It was Merlin, as young and as real as he had been the day that Arthur died.

"Arthur?" Sarah was saying, from what sounded like a vast distance away. "Arthur, what's - " And then she followed his gaze and said a soft, "Oh."

"Is that the Prof?" Turk asked. "He's young."

"Yeah, he rang me," Sarah said. "He said he's turned young, he - "

"Definitely him," Dan said. "I've seen old pictures of him - "

"Merlin," Arthur said.

It was his own voice that broke the spell, that made it reality. There was Merlin, right over there, it was him, it was him.

"Merlin," he said again. And then, shouted, "Merlin!"

And somehow that set him off; he sprang forward, ignoring Sarah shouting "Arthur, no, wait!", ignoring the beeping horns of the cars as he dashed across the road. Suddenly he had wings on his feet - he was flying, not running, it really felt like he was flying, dodging people, jumping over thrown rubbish, navigating benches, flying, flying, flying towards that figure in the dark jumper, towards that black hair and - and -

"Merlin!" He lunged forward and grabbed his arm…

…And Merlin wheeled around, tearing his arm from Arthur's grip. "Woah!"

They both froze.

Arthur stalled, suddenly transfixed. It was Merlin, standing right in front of him, his Merlin, the Merlin he had watched and waited for for so long, for one thousand, four hundred and nine years. It was his pale face, his high cheekbones, his crystal blue eyes. It was Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.

And yet he was staring at Arthur as if he had never seen him before.

They had about five seconds of staring at each other, then a wave of dread prompted Arthur into speech. "Merlin, it's me," he said.

He was repaid with a blank look that left him breathless with horror. "Sorry," Merlin said, and it was his voice, just as it had been before, it was Merlin's voice and Arthur hadn't heard that in so, so long. "I, uh. I think you've got the wrong guy, mate."

He turned to leave; Arthur grabbed his arm again, feeling the warmth of him under his hand. "Merlin," he said, trying not to panic. "It's me, it's Arthur."

Merlin shot him a look of alarm and tried to twist his arm out of Arthur's grip. "I don't know an Arthur," he said, and Arthur could see he looked properly worried now. "And my name's not - wait, did you say M - Merlin - my name's definitely not Merlin - e-excuse me, can you let go of my arm, please?"

Something slipped into Arthur's heart, sharp and cold. "But," he said, and clung on.

"Please," Merlin said, sounding genuinely frightened. "I'm not - get off!"

The shout shook Arthur out of it. He let his hand drop to his side, nerveless. "I," he said, and then had no idea how to continue.

"I've got to - " Merlin gestured helplessly behind him, tripping a few steps away from Arthur. "Look, I've gotta go, I, uh." He gestured again, then turned away quickly and began walking off.

Arthur couldn't move. After a few steps, Merlin glanced behind him. His face was still harried, shaken, and his eyes held no recognition in them at all.

He turned away and kept going up the road. Arthur stayed where he was.

He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to.

Merlin's Magicians led the dazed Arthur back to their HQ, though they were a more than a little dazed themselves. Jocelyn was sitting there, waiting for them, her eyes wide and wet.

"His name is Martin Earlton," she said.

The mismatched Magicians clustered around the 'computer' and went on what they called the 'internet' to find out more about him. Apparently Turk was an expert at 'hacking' but Arthur didn't know what that meant. He didn't care either. He sat apart and stared at the ground, and remembered that blank look in Merlin's eyes. So…devoid of anything. No affection, or annoyance, or humour, or any of those looks Arthur had been so used to. Nothing at all, not even anger or betrayal. No emotion. He had looked directly at Arthur, at his king, at his destiny…and saw nothing.

Sarah hesitated, then went and sat next to Arthur. "It'll be okay," she said, a little shakily. "There's a reason for it, I'm sure. He'll remember."

"What if he doesn't?" Arthur twisted his fingers together. "What if he - " He broke off, a lump suddenly developing in his throat. "You know earlier," he said, "When I said nothing could frighten me?"

"Yeah," Sarah said softly.

"I lied," he replied. "A world without Merlin - that frightens me."

Sarah squeezed his arm, but said nothing. At that moment, Turk suddenly said, "Ah. Got some pictures."

They grouped around the computer, Sarah dragging Arthur with her. The screen was strange, as was the way that Turk managed to direct what they could see on it, but Arthur was not in the mood for questions. A picture of Merlin was on the screen, more realistic than a painting. He was dressed in a shirt and was holding some sort of drink and smiling amidst a bunch of other people. He looked happy, Arthur thought, and his stomach twisted itself in knots.

Turk clicked something and another picture came up. It was the same place, but with a few different people. And one in particular…

"Wait," Arthur said. "Wait, that's…" He trailed off and stared.

Morgana was staring back at him.

He found his voice. "That's Morgana," he said. "She's Morgana." He pointed at her, and his finger trembled. Morgana was barely smiling but looked directly into the camera, her eyes cool and an arm around Merlin. It made Arthur itch to see Merlin smiling like that when she was so near.

"That's Morgana?" Donald said, sounding thrilled. "High Priestess?"

Turk checked the writing beside the picture. "Morgan Faye, according to Facebook," he said.

"What's a Facebook?" Arthur asked.

"Never mind, Arthur," Sarah said softly. "She's what - Martin's friend?"

"Worse than that," Turk said, moving the screen down and going pale. "She's his flatmate. Look."

He pointed to one of the written comments under the picture. One was titled 'Morgan Faye' and said Martin my wonderful flatmate - love youuu! x

"No," said Arthur.

"It makes sense," Jocelyn said. "If she's returned and she's influenced the Professor, that would explain the strange veil I was seeing over his magic."

"She's somehow made him forget everything," said Sarah.

"That would explain the return of Arthur as well," Donald replied. "The legends say you would return in a time of Albion's greatest need. If Morgana has returned, you can be sure we need the help of the only king to beat her."

"But I'm nothing without Merlin," Arthur managed with difficulty.

"And she knows that as well," Dan said. "So she took him."

There was a horrified silence.

"Well," Jocelyn said slowly. "There may be a way to break her magic."

They all turned to look at her. "How?" asked Sarah.

Jocelyn shrugged. "It will take a lot of effort to keep the Professor from remembering anything. I suspect there is a reason why she is his flatmate."

Arthur realised, suddenly, what she was saying. "To keep him close to her."

"Exactly," said Jocelyn. "If we could take him from her long enough, maybe the magic will lose its grip."

They all stared at one another. Turk clapped his hands together and grinned.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "I believe it's time for a good old-fashioned kidnapping."

"You're being very quiet this evening," Morgan called from the kitchen as she was microwaving some popcorn. Martin was sit on the sofa in a blanket, staring at the TV, on which was a paused image of Sean Bean in his Game of Thrones get up. Game of Thrones was a shared guilty pleasure between he and Morgan - he could never work out why he liked it, but there was something about the faraway world of cloaks and magic that appealed to him.

He shrugged his blanket around him, musing on this. "Had a weird moment today," he said.

"Oh yeah?" He heard numbers being punched into the microwave.

"Yeah," he said. "This bloke came up to me and called me Merlin."

There was a loud shattering sound from inside the kitchen. He started up on the sofa.

"Morgan? You okay?"

There was a short pause. "Yeah," Morgan said. "Yeah, fine. I just dropped the bowl. It's nothing."

Martin got up anyway, and peeked into the kitchen. Morgan was staring blankly down at the shattered pieces of bowl on the floor.

"Well done," he said, and bent down to pick some up.

"You met someone," Morgan said a bit faintly.

"Hmm?" Martin said, concentrating on picking up pieces of bowl without cutting himself. "Oh. Yeah. Probably a nutter. Didn't see him again though."

"Right," Morgan said. She still sounded rattled. "Right, yeah."

"Don't worry," Martin said cheerfully, glancing at her. "It's just a bowl. There are others in the world, you know."

Morgan laughed at that, but for the rest of the evening she stayed very quiet.