A/N: Wow! I actually wasn't expecting such enthusiastic feedback on this story, so thanks to everyone who's been bothered to read it, and triple thank-yous to everyone who bothered even more to review it.
Real fast, I just wanted to thank sfsf for two things: firstly, (because I don't remember mentioning this before) for second-hand inspiration from her story A Journey Destined, A Journey Forgotten (which all of you should go read, right now, along with its sequel A Tale of Legendary Warlocks) which is the first and perhaps only well-done, thought-out time travel story that I've found on the Merlin archives. So, kudos to her for that, and my preemptive apologies for any unintentional idea-copying. I'm doing my best to develop my own original ideas, but inevitably, there will be some similar themes.
Secondly, I'd like to give her thanks for alerting me to something in the A/N for the first chapter that may have made some miscommunication on my part. (which should be edited) I don't mind being corrected or criticized when I need to be! So please, don't feel like you have to go easy on me or be nice! I can take it, and probably want to hear it.
But I digress.
On with the new chapter!
Merlin had always known that Uther hated magic. Deep down, there would always be a part of Merlin that hated him for it. But sometimes, most of the time, Merlin forgot that Uther was truly afraid of magic. The warlock felt almost guilty as he watched childlike fear play on Uther's face as he stood over the still body of an Arthur who wasn't his.
They'd brought the two lookalikes back to Gaius' chambers and laid them out on two cots, side by side. Gaius had spent some time cleaning the dirt and grime off of them, and after his efforts, their similarity to the crown prince and his manservant grew even more uncanny. They were still unconscious, and the Merlinlike figure in particular remained deathly pale.
"What kind of enchantment is it, Gaius?" Uther asked. He was unable to take his eyes off the body of the man who looked like his son, but was not willing to draw nearer. The physician looked worried as he could only shake his head.
"I'm not sure, sire. I'm not even sure it is an enchantment."
"Of course it is – it has to be!" Uther exclaimed, looking to his old advisor. Gaius sighed.
"Magic may be involved, Sire, but I'm not sure how. For everything I can make of these two men, they are Arthur and Merlin. Down to the very last scar and birthmark. Arthur," He addressed the Arthur who was awake and standing up, looking quite disturbed, "Show me your arm. Your left arm." The prince complied, and Gaius quickly pointed to a few-inch long scar on his inner elbow. "I treated this when Arthur was young – a swordfighting incident," Gaius reminded those in the room. Then, he went over to the body of the Other Arthur and picked up the arm he hadn't bound in a sling. In the same place as on Arthur's arm, the Other Arthur bore an scar identical in every way, only more faded. "It is the same on this Arthur."
If possible, Arthur looked even more disturbed. He glanced at his father, who remained unconvinced. "It's magic. Someone is trying to impersonate my son, to take his power." From the sidelines, Merlin quietly noted that Uther had hardly glanced at his look alike. He wasn't surprised, but almost wanted to feel hurt. He frowned as he realized it was a stupid reaction.
In response to the king's conclusion, Gaius shook his head once more. "I've never seen an impersonation spell like this, sire. There is no way that anyone could have done this. Impersonation implies replication – the identical duplicate of a subject. But these… these men are different. They are exactly like Arthur and Merlin, in every way, except that they are older. Over ten years older, I would say."
"Couldn't it be an aging spell of some sort?" All eyes turned to Arthur as he spoke for the first time, "I mean, on top of this… impersonation spell that you mentioned. Couldn't they age themselves after?"
"I don't think so, Arthur," Gaius said, glancing back at the unconscious figures. "It's too complicated. Any aging spell any sorcerer would use would only age that which is already there on the body – but this… There are new scars on both of these men, scars that you and Merlin do not have. There are places were bones have broken in the past and healed over – bones that neither of you have broken before. I would know – I would have treated them all."
"But if they're not duplicates of some sort," Merlin finally asked, "what are they?"
The hesitant, alarmed look on Gaius' face said it all.
"You can't be implying…," Uther spoke slowly, "That you actually think that this is Arthur?"
Gaius didn't respond.
Arthur scoffed. "That's impossible!" He gestured widely. "I'm here, not lying out cold on some table – how on earth could that poor sod be me?"
"I don't know, sire," Gaius said in all seriousness, "But I remain certain that it is not a duplicate of you. He looks far too different from you to be you, but far too similar to you to not be you. This man," Gaius pointed for emphasis, "for all intents and purposes, must be identified as Arthur Pendragon of Camelot. By the same token, I must identify this man," He turned and pointed to the Other Merlin, "as my ward and your manservant, Merlin." He looked directly at the royals. "I can't explain it, your majesty, but I am almost certain that it is not sorcery."
There was silence after that, strung with tension and unspeakable questions. Then, Merlin said,
"Time."
They all looked at him. Arthur spoke first. "What?" he asked.
"Time," Merlin looked up. "It's the one different between you and him," he pointed to the Other Arthur. "Age, time. If he's not someone else, but he's not you, maybe he's you, but from the future."
"What?" Arthur peered at his servant, and scoffed. "How on earth did you come up with that?" But while Arthur found reasons to ridicule, Merlin and Gaius shared a look of epiphany.
"He could be right, sire," Gaius said, to Arthur and Uther's astonishment. "I've never seen it, or even heard about it in practice, but in the old days, there was a faction of magicians… They were senile, crazy in more ways than one, and most people didn't heed what they said, but they had theories about time. They meddled with magic and time together – that was what drove them mad, some said. They believed that magic could be used to skip time, be used as a vessel between the present, the past, and the future." He glanced over at his newest patients. "Not many people thought their theories were worth considering. But if there was any truth to what they thought… well, we may be looking at it right now."
No one dared to ask any questions or make any comments. Even thinking of excuses made it seem too ridiculous, too unbelievable and unreal. And yet, the two unconscious (futuristic?) figures didn't move from where they lay, their chests still moving in frail up-down breaths.
"It is sorcery," Uther concluded.
"Perhaps, sire," Gaius told him, "But not of any kind we've seen before. If it is magic concerning time, these men should not pose any direct threat. If a sorcerer has brought them here by meddling with time, these men don't merely look like Arthur and Merlin, they are Arthur and Merlin."
Uther stared for a long moment before he said, "Let no one see them. Let no one know of this." He turned to leave, but Gaius stopped him when he said,
"That will be rather hard, sire, once they wake up."
The look on Uther's face read of pure terror. "Wake up?" he asked.
"They are not dead, Sire, and unless you wish to kill a man who may, in fact, be your son, they will remain that way until we discover the reason behind their coming here, which will likely require their own efforts as well as ours."
"Then work quickly, and undo this sorcerer's evil." Uther fled the healer's chambers in a rush, but Arthur lingered for a moment longer. He looked at the two unconscious men – himself – and then at Gaius. He left in silence, unusual for him.
Merlin hadn't realized he was staring until Gaius's voice snapped him from a trance. "I don't think you should get too close, Merlin," He said. Merlin shook himself and realized he was only a foot or so away from the face of his Other Self. He stepped back as if he'd been shocked.
"Sorry. It's just so…"
"I know." Gaius sighed and came over. "But I fear that, if he is you, from the future, coming into contact with him may not be a good idea. Those magicians I spoke about? They went mad for good reasons. Meddling with time creates all sorts of messes, messes that mortal minds cannot endure in peace."
Merlin and his mentor stood slightly away from the figure in silence. After a moment of thought, Merlin asked, "Do you think he'll know more about it? When he wakes up?"
"There's no telling," Gaius said. "He may. He may have been the one to have brought himself and Arthur here in the first place." He turned to his ward. "We both know you possess great power, Merlin, even if it has not matured yet. Ten years would have given you plenty of time to master that power."
They stared some more together before Merlin said, in an attempt at optimism: "Well at least I know I'll get to live another ten years. Rather shocking, all things considered." But Gaius was still somber.
"Yes, unless of course you ruin it all by coming back here and cutting yourself short."
Merlin frowned at him in surprise. "You think that can happen?"
"I don't know anything, Merlin. I never listened to those crazy theories about time. I never thought it possible." He shook his head regretfully. "Now, I wish I had." He turned away and fiddled with some medicinal bottles on his bench. "Regardless, they are still my patients, and they are not well. I need to examine them more to determine their ails aside from the appearance of being ten years out of place." He shooed Merlin as he moved toward the Other Merlin.
"Go get your book," he said quietly, "And see if you can't find anything that might pertain to this. I don't want you around this… Other you if I can help it."
"You'll tell me if you need help?" Merlin asked as he turned. Gaius nodded, and Merlin went to his room and shut the door.
As he set the spellbook on his lap, he let out a huge pent-up breath. The future. The future him. It twisted his gut oddly, and he wasn't sure what to feel. Foreboding? Excitement? Fear? He tried to ignore it and cracked open his most precious possession, but found himself wondering despite himself: Was there anything that magic couldn't do?
Arthur almost wished he'd never woken up. Feeling came slowly, and only in growing waves of unpleasantness. A dull sense of nausea made him want to curl in on himself, but as soon as he tried, he realized that his arm was immobilized by pain and the rest of his muscles were as taught as strung wires. Merlin's enchantment must have worn out hours ago, he felt, and he opened his mouth with every intent to begin cursing until his favorite (or least-favorite, as the case may be) sorcerer decided to fix his mangled body. Unfortunately, like most the rest of his body, his mouth decided it didn't want to work properly. It all came out as a groan instead.
He heard a sudden scuffle to one side of him and something wooden clattered to the ground. He groaned again at the painful noise and tried to open his eyes. They were caked shut by a sleep that must have been longer than it felt to him, and when he did manage to open his eyes, they were unfocused and squinty. He turned weakly toward the sound he'd heard, and made out a familiar face.
"Merlin? Where are we?" He asked, shifting in his cot and trying to blink away the sleep. The warlock's figure slowly filled out in his line of sight as he spoke. He brought up his good arm and rubbed at his eyes. "What the hell happened back there? What did you do?" He looked back at Merlin, and suddenly noticed two things: One, he looked strange, although Arthur's sleepy mind couldn't quite figure out why, and two, he looked terrified. The king frowned. "Merlin? You alright?"
Merlin said nothing. He hardly even moved. Then, in a startled burst of energy, dropped the bundle of herbs he'd been clutching the whole time and jogged toward the back of the room. "Gaius! Gaius, quick! He's waking up!" It didn't seem completely unreasonable, Arthur realized dully, as he was probably injured and in a bad way. But Merlin's tone struck him. He sounded scared.
Then, as sleep continued to fade, Arthur looked across the room. Where Merlin had been standing before, Arthur could see across to another cot with another occupant, this one unconscious. He recognized it. Arthur could hear Merlin talking to Gaius in urgent tones, but then, Merlin was lying just there beside him, unconscious. The waking process now stunted by confusion, Arthur blinked dumbly.
Well, he supposed, this probably wasn't supposed to happen. Though to be fair, he wasn't entirely sure what 'this' was. Merlin walked back into the room with a worried-looking Gaius at his elbow, and Arthur's mind decided that it was easier to wipe itself of thought that try to reconcile the situation. He glanced back and forth between the Scared Merlin and the Sleeping Merlin, and Arthur might have slurred out something along the lines of, "There are two of you, why are there bloody two of you?" before he closed his eyes, but he later, he wouldn't be able to remember.
He knew he shouldn't have bothered to wake up.