A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I wasn't quite sure what to do with this chapter. I'm having trouble with the pacing of this story – what to stick in where and when. I've most of the plot lined out, but timing is still in the works. Bear with me, and let me know if the pace is too fast or too slow!

Gwen had only been passing by when she'd heard it. Carrying a basket of clean laundry up to Morgana's suites, she had to pass briefly by Gaius' chambers on her way, and when she did, she heard something that made her stop. Screaming. As she drew nearer, she could hear words in between the screams, and other voices as well.

"Oh grow a backbone, Merlin," Arthur's voice. He sounded far too concerned to be teasing.

"Take it slowly. Sleeping for that long has hardly been good on your muscles." Gaius.

Wait, sleeping? Merlin? Gwen's eyes widened. She set down her basket. Did that mean that…? She opened the door to another pained groan and came into a scene that made her gasp. Gaius and the Older Arthur stood by a very tired-looking Older Merlin, who was attempting to stand up with great difficulty. He favored his right leg, and after he tried to put weight on it, fell back down to his cot despite Gaius and Arthur's support. He slammed his palm on the edge of the bed in frustration.

"Damn my leg!" He shouted.

Off to one side of the room, looking on with a pained expression and a hand to his mouth was the Young Merlin. His eyes were the first to wander over to the doorway. "Gwen!"

All eyes whipped to her, and she could see the Older Merlin pale when he saw her. He stared, and she couldn't help but to stare back.

"I… I… I was just," She looked at the other faces in the room, "I was walking past, when I heard… I'm sorry, I'll be going," She said, blushing violently and turning back toward the door.

"No, Gwen," And it was mostly because it was Older Merlin who called her that she turned back around. He sighed heavily from exhaustion but tried to smile nonetheless. "It's alright, I'm sorry." He nodded at her, mustering a friendly grin. "It's good to see you, albeit a bit – uh" he grimaced and bent over his leg as a muscle cramped up. "Sorry," he said.

"Merlin is right, Guinevere," Gaius said, "please stay. I may need your help, actually."

"What do you need?" She asked, doing her best not to look too long or often at the strange, older Merlin sitting only a few feet away.

"There's some elixirs in the back room, in a cupboard, made to relieve muscle cramps. They'll be in clear bottles, small, round – Merlin, show her to them, will you? And start put the pot on for tea as well." The two young people nodded and headed off to follow instructions. On his cot, Merlin had a palm to his forehead, and was trying not to fall against Arthur, who stood nearby.

"Arthur," He asked, glancing slowly around, "where's my staff?"

"Um," The king knew how this would turn out. "Merlin, you didn't exactly, er, have it with you when we came here."

"What?"

"…It's not here, Merlin."

Merlin looked up at him, truly hurt. "W-what? My staff? It's –it's not here?"

Arthur tried to look sympathetic, but it came out wrong. "I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin looked like he'd just lost a loyal pet, or been told that his best friend couldn't make it for holiday, or the yearly magic festival had been cancelled. "Well what am I supposed to do?" He asked Arthur, genuinely concerned.

"We can find you a substitute. You know," Arthur tried to sound optimistic, "until yours turns up."

Merlin sighed, because he knew that would never happen. Gaius tried to help, "I know they keep plenty of staffs in the armory. They're technically for fighting, but they work fine for walking as well."

"Do you want me to go and fetch one?" Young Merlin came back into the room, bearing an elixir.

"No, I don't want you leaving, in case…" He paused, remembering Gwen. "He'll need to keep his strength up," Gaius nodded at Older Merlin, his voice quieter, "best if you don't go. Guinevere?"

"Yes?" Gwen stepped out from the kitchen area where she'd been brewing tea.

"Do you think you could fetch a quarterstaff from the armory?"

She frowned uncertainly. "Why?"

"Merlin's leg. He'll need it to walk."

She looked at Older Merlin, suddenly concerned. "What's happened to his leg?"

Arthur sighed. "It's a very long story, Gwen. Please help? I'd go, but, well…"

"Yes," She nodded. "Of course. But I was on my way to Morgana's rooms, to drop off her laundry,"

"That's fine," Older Merlin waved his hand dismissively. "No rush. Not like I'll be going anywhere." Then he added in a hiss, "blasted leg."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Gwen promised, and left the physicians chambers. Her head was reeling as she walked up to Morgana's rooms and began to put away her wardrobe.

Merlin. Old Merlin. Well, Gwen supposed, Older. She shook herself. It was all so strange. Seeing Older Arthur was strange enough, but somehow, she'd always imagined that maturity would fit well on Arthur, in good time. The beard, the confidence, the regality, it all fit. Even the humility seemed to fit in well with his character, somehow, even if it was unexpected. But Merlin? She'd only glimpsed his older self for a few minutes, but she could sense that he was much changed from the Merlin she knew. Not in a bad way, but more… well, more. It was as if Gwen had been looking at a portrait of Merlin all her life and was only just turning around to meet the actual person. They were good representations of each other, true to likeness and proportion, but there was simply no comparing the painting to the real thing. It was strange. This new Merlin was so Merlin that she'd have known him if she only saw him for a few seconds, but at the same time, he was something so different that it made Gwen frown in concentration. What could happen to a man like Merlin in fifteen years that would change him so much?

She didn't realize she'd been frowning so deeply until she was making her way down to the armory and her thoughts distracted her to the point of quite literally running into Arthur.

"Arthur!" She said, gasping. She hadn't even heard him turn the corner. She blushed as he helped her to her feet, and he looked like he might apologize when he saw her expression and frowned.

"Gwen, is something wrong?"

"Haven't you heard?" She asked, genuinely confused. It'd appeared earlier that Merlin had been up for quite a while – she'd have figured that someone would have told Arthur by now. "Merlin, his lookalike, the Older Merlin – he's woken up."

Suddenly Arthur became very, very pale. "When?"

Gwen shook her head. "I'm not sure. I walked in a little while ago, and he was awake."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You've seen him?"

"Yes."

"Is he… alright?"

Gwen shrugged. "He seemed tired… A bit hurting, maybe. Arthur, are you alright?" His face was twitching with several conflicted feelings.

"We need to tell my father. Is Merlin – our Merlin – is he there too?"

"Yes."

"Right…" Arthur sighed to himself. When he didn't speak again, Gwen carefully swerved around him.

"Excuse me, Sire…"

"Where are you going?" He asked, noting that she was heading in the opposite direction of Gaius' chambers.

"The armory."

"What on earth for?"

"A quarterstaff," She explained. "Something's happened to Merlin's-" She sighed. They would need to think up different names for the two. "That is, the Older Merlin's leg. Gaius says he'll need a walking stick."

Arthur was frowning. "But I thought Gaius said he wasn't injured."

Gwen shrugged at him. "I'm just trying to help." She turned to leave. Arthur went after her.

"Here, let me go with you. The guards might not let you in. I'll make sure you get a good staff."

She nodded her thanks and they walked quickly together towards the armory.

Once they'd procured a suitable staff (Arthur was, thankfully, able to pick one that he knew would suit Merlin's height) they made their way back to Gaius' chambers. As Arthur reached the door, his hand stopped on the handle.

"Arthur?" Gwen asked at his hesitation. Arthur stared at the door, then turned around to her, an apprehensive expression on his face. "Is… is my older self in there?"

She looked sheepish. "Um. Yes. When I was here, anyway."

Arthur nodded. "And Merlin, he… both of them are here?" Gwen nodded. After a still pause, Gwen said kindly,

"Arthur, you don't have to go in if you don't want. I'll take the staff and-"

"No, no. It's fine." Arthur heaved a large breath to steady himself. "I'll have to talk to both of them eventually." And as he opened the latch she thought she could hear him say, "Damn I hope we figure this out soon,"

At the sound of the door, Gaius turned. "Ah, Guinevere, good, you've – Arthur!" As the Prince walked fully into the room, all eyes darted to him. He froze.

"Arthur helped me get into the armory," Gwen said by way of explanation, "he got one that should fit Merlin's height." She glanced at the Prince, who was staring at Older Merlin and Arthur with extreme discomfort. His older counterpart looked only slightly less uncomfortable, but Older Merlin was studying him with a certain look in his eye – recognition, curiosity, and… fondness. Arthur fidgeted. It made him feel uncomfortable. He only moved his eyes when Gwen went to tug the quarterstaff from his grasp. "Here you are," She extended the staff to Older Merlin, and he took it gratefully.

Carefully, with Older Arthur and Gaius going to his aid, Merlin stood up, leaning heavily on his new walking stick, and studied its make. It was perhaps the plainest quarterstaff that Camelot's armory had to offer, a strong, sturdy cut of maple. There were long, thick divots cut into the sides of the wood, which provided partially blunted angles in the wood that would work well in combat to cut at an opponent – for Merlin's purposes, they provided decent hand grips. He found a comfortable spot to hold onto, and took a hesitant step forward. He managed two or three until he had to sit back down. He heaved a sigh. "Thank you, Gwen, and Arthur," He let his eyes flick up to the prince. "This will work nicely." He laid the staff across his lap and ran his hand along it, studying it.

Prince Arthur's subconscious saw to it that he mumbled 'you're welcome' in reply, but his conscious thought was spent on studying this Older Merlin that sat in front of him. Hearing him, looking at him, watching him… It all felt so wrong. It made Arthur uncomfortable. This wasn't Merlin. This wasn't his bumbling, smiling servant. This wasn't the lovable idiot he knew. This was someone else entirely, who'd stolen Merlin's face, and his voice, and his mannerisms, and stuck them into a bearded, confident, mature, and entirely to wise looking man who dared to call himself by the same name. He couldn't be Merlin. He was far too… much to be Merlin. Merlin was Merlin, nothing more. But this man was much, much more. And Arthur wasn't sure he liked that at all.

"I know it's all very weird," The Strange Merlin said, "but I won't bite, you know." When Arthur met his eyes, they sparked with a smile. "You don't have to look at me like I will. Prat," He tagged on for recognition's sake, but if anything, it seemed to make Arthur's discomfort grow.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Right, um," He said, mostly in reply to the idea that it was 'all very weird.' That was the understatement of the century. "How long…" He cleared his throat again, awkwardly, "how long have you been awake?"

"Oh, a while. Not sure exactly. Arthur?"

Older Arthur, who also looked rather uncomfortable, but infinitely less so that his younger self, answered, "He woke up sometime after midnight last night. We've been spending the rest of that time trying to get him patched up enough to stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time."

"Hey!" Older Merlin looked offended. Younger Merlin was hiding a smile that the Prince didn't understand. He was watching the exchange with a stiff back. A chill had run up his spine when he heard his older self speak – it was his voice. But not. The entire situation was making him extremely uneasy, and he wanted nothing more than to draw his sword, if only to feel safer against a situation that was so obviously, blatantly magic.

"Has… does my father know?" He asked. The room seemed to sober. It was Gaius who answered.

"Merlin is still in a fragile state, Sire. When your father finds out that he is conscious, he will want to speak with him straightaway. I mean no disrespect, but I think it may be wise to delay telling Uther until Merlin is strong enough to face him and the council's questioning."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. I trust you, of course," He told Gaius, and his eyes darted around the room and he couldn't help it when he spent a little longer than need be comparing the facial features of the Younger and Older Merlins. He shook himself. "I… I ought to be going." He dismissed himself quickly, and after a glance or two back, a concerned-looking Guinevere followed him. After they left, the Older Arthur let out a huge breath, and ran a hand over his face.

"You alright, Arthur?" Merlin looked past his shoulder at him.

"It's weird, alright," He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Gods, I forgot what I was like back then – back now? Oh, blast it all." Merlin smiled sympathetically, but said nothing. Arthur glanced over at his longtime friend, who was lounging on his cot comfortably, only a metre or so away from his younger self. Neither of them seemed to bear any signs of overt discomfort.

"And how is it that you two can get on so well? Doesn't it seem little too mad?"

The Merlins looked at each other, and to Arthur's further disconcertment, shrugged simultaneously.

"After a while, you get used to weird magic," Older Merlin explained, "You learn to be flexible. Though I will say, this has got to be one of the stranger surprises Magic has ever handed me,"

Younger Merlin snorted. "It'd certainly do me," He said.

"It has," His older self replied, and the two grinned identically. Arthur looked between the two of them, a highly disturbed look on his face, and he shook himself and turned toward Merlin's bedroom.

"I'm going to lie down. I've already lost enough sleep to you as it is, idiot."

"Aw, you lost sleep over me? I didn't know you cared." Older Merlin smiled cheekishly at him.

"Goodnight, Merlin," Arthur said without looking back.

"Goodmorning, perhaps." The door shut behind the king. "Don't worry Arthur, I'll try to live through the night – er – morning without your nannying."

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur's voice floated back. Merlin smiled and, using what little magic he could muster under his own power, said a spell that would darken the bedroom for Arthur's comfort. Behind him, Younger Merlin sniffed and moved toward the door.

"I should probably go and see if Arthur needs anything. Do you need me to…?" He glanced back at his older self, but the man gave a placating gesture. He started to speak, but a yawn broke in too soon. Gaius answered for him.

"No need, Merlin. And thank Guinevere for me, if you get the chance." Merlin nodded, and left. Alone in the room, Gaius turned toward the older version of his ward. "You need to sleep. I can't withhold information from Uther very long until he finds out, and if he does, he won't be happy about it. You need to be ready to face the council soon. Merlin sighed and nodded. He lay down and pulled a blanket over himself.

"Thank you, Gaius," He said, and it was a strangely pleasant sensation for the physician to see this older man act just like the boy he regarded as his own son. He closed the shutters on the window to darken the room, and went quietly over to his desk and lit a candle. Alone with sleeping company of men of confidence, Gaius could study forbidden texts without fear.

Time travel… He scanned old pages with studious curiosity, hoping against hope that somewhere close, the answers he sought lay buried in paper and ink.

Sure enough, by the time Older Merlin woke up again, late that evening, Uther had heard that he was awake and wanted to speak with him immediately. Despite Gaius' protests of him being still too weak to cope, the king was adamant. Gaius looked deeply apologetic when he told Merlin that the council would be waiting for his arrival that evening, past dark. With a great sigh, Merlin had agreed to go.

Arthur helped his friend to walk around Gaius' chambers to stretch his underused legs and get acquainted with his new staff.

"I apologize in advance for whatever nonsense myself and my family give you tonight," The king said even as Merlin gripped hard on his arm, wincing. His leg was still sore and the bone painful. The warlock laughed despite it all.

"It does run in the family, doesn't it?" Neither of them were smiling. "I'll be fine."

"Just make sure you come back in one piece," Arthur told him.

"I'll be there to make sure of it," Gaius said, coming up to the two with a potion in his hand, one of the potions that Younger Merlin had enchanted earlier that day. "Drink this. I know it's foul, but it will help you recover more quickly." Merlin took it and downed it in one, wincing against the thick bitterness. He accepted the glass of water that Gaius held out with haste.

"How long do you think my father will keep him in there?" Arthur asked. He would not be able to attend the audience.

"I'm not sure. If it goes too long, I'll be sure to let him know," and from Gaius, it sounded almost like a threat. "Are you ready to go, Merlin?"

He sighed. "As ready as I'll ever be."

They walked to the throne room slowly, in silence. Gaius knew Merlin would have plenty to think about, trying to mentally prepare himself not only for the interrogation, but for the sight of people he hadn't seen in fifteen years. Merlin was limping heavily on his staff the whole way there, and the reduced speed gave him time to think. Uther. Alive. Questioning him. He would have to think carefully about his answers. The warlock looked mainly at the ground as they approached. When they were just outside the massive doors, Gaius stopped and turned to Merlin.

"I'll be right there, if you need me. I'm sorry about all this. The circumstances." He gave the man an encouraging smile. "You'll do fine, Merlin. Ready?"

Merlin closed his eyes and took a long breath, steading his nerves and mind. When he opened his eyes and straightened his spine, he appeared to be a different person. All of the confidence and presence he'd acquired in his years as Court Sorcerer suddenly shone through, his freshly-cleaned robes and trimmed black beard making him look every inch a nobleman. Seeing him simultaneously filled Gaius with profound pride and growing uneasiness for the moments to come. Deliberately, Merlin shifted his stance to hide his limp and gripped his staff more comfortably. He nodded. Gaius pushed open the doors, and they stepped inside.

A/N: Shameless Sherlock quote is shameless. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, despite the little that happened.