A/N: Sorry for not updating this in so long. As I've said, this takes place after A Second Chance, so I didn't want to get too far into it because its predecessor was still a WIP. However, now that ASC is nearly wrapped up (only three more chapters to go!) I figured I can update this story and get away with it. So! Enjoy the first real chapter, although it's a bit short.
Leon's feet hurt. He knew it was a petty complaint, one that in no way befitted his station as a knight, but after three hours of patrol, all he wanted was a nice chair, no shoes, and a bucket of cool water to soothe his poor toes.
One of the guards that walked with him sighed. "I don't see anything of anything," the man complained, "D'you really think it's worth it?"
No. But he couldn't answer like that. He was a knight; a man of honor. "The king wouldn't have sent us out if it wasn't," he said, though he didn't believe it. "The thief is here, just give it time." Three more hours, probably…
Truth be told, Leon didn't think that the 'thief' should have even been their concern. Reported to have stolen a roast chicken and an unusually large helping of apple tarts from the palace kitchens, the perpetrator wasn't exactly a threat to anyone. Well, save for the odd butchered poultry, at least, but Leon thought that the chicken couldn't have cared, what with being dead. Nevertheless, it'd been a slow, boring summer that had melted into an even boring-er autumn, and Leon knew it would have been futile to refuse any job, even a job so pointless as hunting down hungry, kleptomaniacal hooligans.
"Just keep your eyes peeled," he told his men.
"For what, a hungry dog?" one of them muttered under his breath. Leon pretended not to notice.
There was a crash nearby, around a bend in the road. At the same instant, two teens ran from behind an old shed into a nearby house, looking suspicious. Leon turned to follow them.
"Richard, Halsholm, investigate that noise. Bayard, you're with me." Eager to do anything besides nothing, the men followed orders promptly. Leon edged toward the house and knocked on the door, and despite the fact that he'd seen the people enter, no one answered. "Hello?" He called, "I know someone's in there, I just need to ask a few questions. Open up." He tried several more times, but when no one answered, he opened the door himself. He found the two teens, a boy and a girl, looking rather preoccupied with snogging each other, until they saw him and began looking incredibly guilty. Embarrassing, but hardly criminal. Leon sighed. Another false lead.
"Sir Leon, you may want to come and see this," He heard one of his men from outside.
"Just a moment," He called back. "Sorry," He muttered unfeelingly towards the interrupted couple, and left. "What is it?"
The guard before him wore a startled expression. "Well, Sir, it's… Well, you need to see it."
"See what?"
"The…bodies," another said. Leon was immediately alert.
"The what?"
"Bodies, sir."
"Show me."
Richard led him around a bend in the road to a –thankfully- deserted corner where he could make out the two bodies to which Richard had referred.
"Are they dead?" He asked.
"No sir. It's just that… Well, they're…"
"What? They're what?"
Richard was clearly shaken and confused. "Well, just look at them, sir." He gestured. As they drew nearer, Leon got a better look, and he frowned when something seemed undeniably familiar about the unconscious bodies. He drew closer to the nearest one, who was lying face-first on the ground. He turned it over to get a better look at the face.
He paled.
"Send for the king," he choked out around his shock, and none of the men questioned his order.
"Sire, I hardly think it necessary to go to such precautions. The sickness hasn't been seen in years, and the summer was mild enough that I doubt it will spring up again," Gaius told his king. Uther seemed unconvinced.
"You remember what happened when it did appear, hundreds of people died."
"And I have kept the antidote well-stocked ever since then. I assure you, Sire, Camelot is prepared for whatever this winter may bring."
The king nodded somewhat half-heartedly but his face brightened when he looked to the door. "Ah, Morgana," He smiled at her, "How nice of you to join us for dinner.
"Uther," She nodded politely, "Gaius." She took her seat and thanked the maid who served her drink.
"You haven't seen Arthur yet this evening, have you? He was meant to be here nearly an hour ago." Uther looked around as though expecting his son to appear at any moment.
"I haven't seen him since this morning," she told him, popping a grape into her mouth. She looked at the fruit. "Last of the year, I suppose. A pity."
"Indeed. And more the pity if Arthur should miss them all for not knowing how to arrive somewhere in a timely manner." Uther shook his head. "Fair punishment, though. How has your evening been, my dear?"
"Well, I-" Morgana began, but just then, the huge doors to the hall were flung open and a panting Sir Leon unceremoniously interrupted the royal's dinner.
"Sire," He bowed slightly,
"Sir Leon," Uther addressed, "I assume it is urgent?"
"Yes, sire."
"So urgent as to warrant a disruption to our dinner?" He smirked. "Surely a petty thief does not pose such a threat."
"No sir," Leon agreed without argument, "It's not that. It's… My men, while on patrol, they found… bodies, sir."
Uther frowned, and Gaius sat up straighter attention. "Corpses?" The king asked. Leon shook his head quickly.
"No sir, not dead, unconscious."
"Unconscious? How?" It was Gaius who asked.
Leon turned to the physician. "I don't know. We heard a crash before they were found, but did not see anything."
"Unfortunate," Morgana said, "but not exactly emergency. Unconscious peasants happens every once in a while, does it not, by drink or by brawls?" Uther nodded at her and turned back to Leon for an answer.
"Yes, my lady, but they aren't peasants, that's just it."
"Who are they?" Uther asked. Leon seemed at a loss.
"Well, Sire, they're-"
"I told you, stack them from largest to smallest. If you'd done that, I wouldn't be late," An annoyed voice echoed down the hall.
"How about you learn to carry it all yourself? I can't do much else but stack them from hardest to carry to easiest to carry," a lighter voice called back.
"Which for you, of course, means that it all ended up on the floor."
"It's not my fault! Why do you have so much armor?"
"It's just one suit!"
"It felt more like three!"
A scoff. "You're such a girl, Merlin."
"Well at least I'm not a pr-"
"Sorry I'm late, father," Arthur emerged suddenly into the dining hall, his voice effectively drowning out his servant's insults. Uther motioned his son into the room, and Arthur took his seat quietly, aware but unconcerned with the fact that his manservant was glaring at the back of his head.
"You were saying, Sir Leon?" Uther asked.
Leon was pale. He stared at Arthur oddly, and cast a glance back at Richard, who had accompanied him. The other man shook his head and shrugged.
"Sir Leon?" The king prodded, obviously growing frustrated.
"Well, Sire, it's just… They, that is, the bodies," he glanced at Arthur and Merlin with apprehension and confusion on his face, "they appeared to be the bodies of Prince Arthur and his servant, Merlin." Suddenly, everyone went quiet. Banter forgotten, Arthur and Merlin shared a look that registered mutual confusion. Leon swallowed and tacked on a respectful, "Sire," a bit too late.
Uther took a moment to answer. He glanced at his son.
"Well obviously they're not. As you can see, Arthur and his servant are here. You were mistaken, clearly."
"No, Sire, you don't understand," and Uther's glare flickered over to him at that, "they looked just like them. Only… only… not. Sire. But I was sure it was them, Sire."
More quiet. Uther peered at Leon for a moment, before looking to his left, to Gaius. The physician nodded and stood.
"Show me."
"I told Bayard and Halsholm to stand guard while we alerted the king, to make sure no one else saw and went into a panic. They're just over there," Leon directed Gaius, who was followed closely by an overcurious Arthur and Merlin. He passed quickly to where the guards stood over two prone forms. They'd covered the bodies with their cloaks. Gaius went over to them, knelt, and removed the cloak from one of the bodies. It would take him hours to recover from the shock of what he saw.
There, unconscious, pale-faced and dirty, was Merlin. He was sure it was Merlin, he would recognize that face anywhere. From the ears to the hair to every facial feature, Gaius was positive that it was Merlin. But it was different. This man had a light beard, and crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. He was angular, mature, and filled-out. Frankly, it was Merlin. But older. It was incredibly disconcerting, and Gaius found his hands were shaking when he raised the cloak off the second body.
It was a similar case as with the first. It looked just like Prince Arthur, but older. Gaius looked up to compare the two. Arthur was clean-shaven, but this… other Arthur had a neatly trimmed mustache and beard, and a few scars and wrinkles where the real Arthur had none. For a moment, Gaius could only stare.
"Here's your kit, Gaius, if you'll be needing…" Merlin froze where he stood, and Gaius looked up at him. His ward's face was white and terrified as he stared over Gaius shoulder, the medic kit outstretched and forgotten in his hand. Gaius followed Merlin's gaze to the body that bore his likeness, then darted back to Merlin. He took the kit quickly.
"Go," he shooed Merlin away.
"What is that?" Merlin breathed, unable to tear his eyes away.
"I don't know. Now go, get. You and Arthur need to leave. Now." He shoved the boy away. "Leon, you and your men, go fetch to stretchers. We need to get these… men to my quarters immediately." The knight and guards left.
Merlin was still staring when Arthur came up, his tone rather incredulous about the whole thing.
"Well, assuming that they aren't actually us, of course, we can probably-" and then Arthur's eyes widened and he froze. "Gaius," he demanded, suddenly serious, "Gaius, that's-"
"Yes I know," the physician covered the faces and stood up to physically push the prince and his servant away.
"You said that weren't dead," Arthur said, still looking at the bodies.
"They aren't, but you and Merlin need to leave. It's too… strange."
"What is it?"
"I don' t know, Sire."
Arthur gulped. "Is it… Is it magic?" He asked.
Gaius cast a look at Merlin, who still looked terrified, and the warlock's eyes were darkened in a way that told Gaius he was thinking the same thing.
"I don't know sire," he told the prince, "but you and Merlin need to leave."
"My father needs to hear about this."
"And he will, as soon as I see to… the unconscious men. Now go."
For once, Arthur's voice lost its condescending edge when he turned and said, "Come on, Merlin, let's go."
Merlin didn't move. He looked at the bodies, then at Gaius, then back down.
"They're not dead, Merlin," Gaius said, trying to reassure his ward.
Merlin didn't reply. No, they definitely weren't dead. But for whatever reason, the prospect of them being alive seemed just as foreboding. He turned at followed Arthur silently.
Gaius remained where he was and waited for the men with stretchers to arrive. He couldn't help it when he snuck a peak at the two unconscious men again. Merlin, but not. Arthur. But different. But how? Even as he escorted the guards and the unconscious patients back to his quarters, Gaius could scarcely begin to think of a solution.
What on earth was going on?