Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
The sound of Merlin's staff hitting the ground was the only thing that broke the silence as they approached the front of the Great Hall, where the king, the prince, and their advisors were waiting. Gaius watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye as they walked together. To any onlookers, Merlin looked as though he didn't even need the staff – he was straight-backed, eyes forward and all confidence. Only Gaius could see how tensely he held his neck, how he was biting his lip against the pain, how it was his arm and his staff that held his bodyweight when his right leg took a step. The physician tried not to worry too much. They came to the place where a chair had been set out for Merlin, and Gaius waited while Merlin was seated before he moved away. The warlock betrayed no soreness as he sat and drew his staff across over his lap with practiced ease. He nodded at Gaius, and the physician moved away to sit near Uther at his spot at the head table.
There was a pause as things seemed to settle in the room. Arthur was sitting next to his father, jaw tense as he studied the Older Merlin. Morgana was staring holes into his head, and Merlin's heart was wrenching itself at every glance of her beautiful, unspoiled face. Uther's expression was intense and the tiniest bit unnerved. He whispered something to one of the councilmen, and the two had a brief, silent conversation with each other. Only Gaius kept a characteristic air as the interview began. Uther sat up and addressed Merlin for the first time.
"What is your name?" He asked.
"Merlin Emrys."
The was a slight stir as the eerily familiar voice hit their ears. Uther paused for a moment before continuing, his voice accented with suspicion, "I was unaware that you had a surname."
"Did you ever ask?" Merlin retorted straight-faced, his eyes meeting the king's for the first time. It'd been nearly fifteen years since he'd seen that face, but even then, he'd never had the experience of seeing it so unnerved, so… flustered.
Uther was growing highly uncomfortable with the man that sat in front of him. His appearance was one thing; well-dressed, lean, imposing and confident in his movements despite what Uther had been told was a crippling disability in his leg. Now that he heard Merlin's voice, the effect was compounded. He was calm, casual, and something in his eyes leaked into his words, a hidden sense of command that Uther was used to possessing, not witnessing. It made him immediately dislike the newcomer. He squinted at the man.
"Am I to understand, Merlin Emrys, that you claim to be the very same Merlin who is currently manservant to my son, Prince Arthur Pendragon?"
"Well, not the very same, I'd think," Merlin said, shrugging his head to one side. "A person does change in fifteen years. And I'm not his manservant anymore. But insomuch as that Merlin and myself are the same person, then, yes."
Uther glanced at Arthur, who did not return his gaze. He looked briefly at Gaius, then back at Merlin. "And how can there be two of the same person in the same place at the same time?"
"Time travel. I – and Arthur, who I believe you spoke with before at more reasonable hours of the day – are from the future."
Uther blinked a few times, taken aback by Merlin's casual air and his underhanded jibe at Uther's decision to bring him in so late. It was strange, this man looked so much like his son's manservant – but he was nowhere near stupid enough to bear comparison. Surely, he thought, this could not be the same person. But if it was… "And how, exactly, did this 'time travel' of which you speak occur to bring you and… and your companion here to Camelot?" At the question, Merlin shrugged.
"Magic, of course." the words caused a stir among the council. Uther fidgeted. "I thought you'd already arrived at that, your Majesty."
"I was aware that the cause was likely sorcery," Uther gritted out, uncomfortable with the topic and this man's unnerving tone of voice. "What I want to know, however, is exactly how magic played a part in this… incident. From your point of view."
Merlin nodded and drew up a long breath. He looked at the ceiling for a moment before he began to speak.
"As Arthur probably told you, there was an attack on Camelot. A sorceress. She hit us midday, out of the blue. There was no warning. We were in Great Hall when she attacked," Merlin glanced up around the very same room, so much older but somehow newer-looking when it wasn't lying in rubble, "but were forced to flee. Arthur's shoulder was knocked badly out of socket; he couldn't fight, and had twisted his ankle. I was attempting to get him safely to the keep when the sorceress intercepted us."
"This sorceress," Uther asked, leaning forward, "who is she?"
Merlin's eyes rested irresistibly on Morgana as he pondered the question. Her skin was so pale and unscarred, her eyes uncrazed, her hair beautifully brushed and curled. Even though Merlin knew that behind the façade she was already slipping, already turning into the witch that he remembered, in that moment he believed that she was truly Morgana again, no longer Morgan Le Fey. He didn't feel that he was lying when he said sadly, "You wouldn't know her, your majesty."
Uther looked disappointed. "I see. Carry on."
Merlin drew a deep breath and tore his eyes away from Morgana. "As I say, she intercepted us halfway to the keep. Arthur was in no condition to even think about fighting, so I attempted to stall her as long as she could." Merlin frowned. "It was strange. She didn't attack us. She only spoke. I'm not sure of what all she said," which wasn't entirely true. He remembered what she'd said, he only didn't know what it meant. "Then she started to say a transportation spell, and I-"
"A what?"
Merlin looked slightly annoyed that Uther had interrupted. "A transportation spell," he said carefully. "Magic. She is a sorceress."
It was Uther's turn to look irritated. "Yes, I gathered. But you seem to know what kind of spell she used – how do you know so much about magic?" He looked pointedly suspicious. Gaius sent Merlin a worried look.
No one was expecting it when Merlin started laughing. It was just a light chuckle, and his smile was halfhearted, but it seemed out of place given the circumstances. He eventually looked back over to where the king was waiting for a response. "You know, I've always found it funny," he peered up at Uther, "For a king who hates magic so much as you, a king who rules a land that seems endlessly beset by magical attacks… you don't know anything about magic itself, do you?" He looked up at Uther and something in his gaze changed from amusement to a deep sadness that, perhaps fortunately, did not reach all the way across his face to where the king could see it. "How can you hate that which you do not understand?" Merlin asked seriously. "How do you expect to defeat an opponent whose movements you cannot predict?"
Uther was dumbstruck, and looked furious about it. Arthur's eyebrows were in his hairline, but Merlin could see past the surprise to where the cogs were beginning to spin in his golden-haired skull. The warlock's heart warmed. Past, present or future, there had always been something in Arthur that had led him through his destiny: thoughtfulness, buried deep beneath bravado and arrogance, that whispered of the man that Arthur would become. Merlin couldn't help it when he allowed a grin to cross his face. Gaius was watching him with obvious concern. Merlin wondered if he hadn't said too much, but the other half of him, the half that went by Emrys wondered if he should care. He pressed on.
"I know about magic, yes. In all due respect, I know more about it than you probably ever will. But you needn't be so surprised - you have Gaius for that purpose now," he nodded at the physician. "Let's just say that, in the future, Arthur has me fill that role." His eyes twinkled. "In a manner of speaking."
To which the Prince looked equal parts confused, intrigued, and disturbed. Somehow the comparison of Gaius and Merlin just didn't quite fit. Arthur could never see Merlin as such a wise, studious, mysterious individual as Gaius could be. And yet… the prince glanced the Older Merlin up and down. …here he was.
"I see," Uther broke through his thoughts with a curt reply, and Arthur looked down at the table, not wanting to see the anger in his father's face. "A… transportation spell, then. What happened after that?"
Merlin nodded as the king let him continue. "As I say, she began to say a transportation spell, to take herself away from Camelot. This particular sorceress has given us a fair bit of trouble in the past. I wasn't about to just let her get away, so I lunged forward to stop her." He raised his eyebrows, looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "This is where things begin to blur together, but if I recall correctly, Arthur must've thought that my idea was a bad one, because he grabbed my ankle in an attempt to stop me. I fell forward. As I did, I grabbed the edge of the sorceress' dress. After that…" He shrugged.
"Yes?"
"It's a blur. Literally. If I understand it correctly, we were drawn up into her transportation spell. That's how we ended up here."
The room fell into silence as the royals and the council absorbed what had been said. Uther leaned briefly over to Gaius to ask a question. The physician nodded and said something that Merlin couldn't hear, and when Uther looked back up, his face was troubled.
"You're saying that the sorceress was trying to come here?"
Merlin's jaw was tight and it was few moments before he responded.
"I don't know where or when she was attempting to go, your majesty. From what I understand, transportation spells are… fickle. Easily broken. Our interference may have thwarted her original plans."
"But you said you went with her. Are you saying that this… this sorceress is here? Now?"
There was a lengthy pause, and from where Gaius was sitting he could see Merlin bite firmly on the inside of his bottom lip. It was a tick, and the physician knew that whatever Merlin was about to say was a lie.
"I don't know."
The interview did not last long after that. It was past midnight by the time Merlin and Gaius left.
Gaius's face was in a deep frown, and he was fully prepared to bombard Merlin with questions as they left the great hall, but then the door shut, Merlin's façade broke, and after seeing the state that his ward was in, Gaius decided not to press the matter.
In the throne room, even as he walked out, Merlin had been straight-faced and walked with an even gait, but once the doors closed and they were alone in the darkness of the courtyard, his mask fell and shattered. He sighed and let his face finally betray the pain and tiredness he felt, and grabbed onto his staff with both hands for a moment while he favored his leg entirely. Gaius didn't need to ask what was wrong, so the physician only did his best to get him back to his quarters quickly and with as few questions as possible. Merlin had a thin sheen of sweat on his face when he finally collapsed onto his bed. Arthur and Young Merlin were long asleep, but had left a few candles burning in anticipation of their return. They were small stubs of wax as Gaius rifled in his medicine cabinet.
"Here," The physician's voice was soft in the quiet room as he handed his aged ward a small tub of salve and a roll of linen. Merlin looked up to it in surprise.
"Wrap it with this where it hurts. It should help with the soreness," Gaius explained, nodding at Merlin's leg. "Help you sleep better."
Merlin blinked, and let a grateful smile take over his weary face. "Thank you, Gaius." The physician politely turned his back and began brewing some tea while Merlin changed for bed and applied the salve to his leg. When he heard that the other man was lying back in bed, he turned.
"Merlin…" He began seriously, but stopped when he saw him, tired, eyes closed, all to the world like he was about to simply pass out. But loyally, Merlin reopened his eyes and peered back up around at his mentor.
"What is it?" He asked, voice thin.
Gaius let out a small sigh. What do you mean, you don't know where she was going? Is Morgana here? Did you see her? I know you were lying. What's going on? What do you know? They were all questions that burned at his mouth, but seeing Merlin now, he knew it wasn't the time. That would come later. He forced a small smile. "Sleep well," he said, and despite his misgivings, he meant it. Merlin smiled weakly back up at him, muttered a thank you, and turned in his bed. The minute was hardly out before he was lying still beneath the blankets, drawing deep, even breaths.
Gaius watched him, feeling equally relieved and worried. It was good to see Merlin awake, and despite the awkward circumstances, it was a pleasure to interact with this older version of his ward. It was even better to see him so peacefully asleep, on the road to recovery. But that was another thing. Recovery. Merlin was weak. He couldn't use his magic of his own volition. He could barely stand, let alone walk, even with the staff. Gaius had seen enough to know that it would take some time before Merlin's magic returned to its full strength, which meant of course that it would take some time before Merlin would return to his full strength. Considering their situation, it was hardly ideal.
Because now, apparently, Morgana – Older Morgana - was in Camelot.
Or was she?
That was the dilemma, Gaius thought to himself as he prepared for bed. Merlin hadn't said that she was in Camelot, or if she wasn't. He hadn't even lied about it either way – but he had said that he didn't know, and he had lied about it.
Merlin knew where – and when – Morgana was. But he wasn't saying so, and that made Gaius extremely uneasy. Merlin was very good at hiding things, it was true, but he didn't hide things because he liked doing so. Merlin only hid information of that importance when he thought that the answer could put those he cared about in jeopardy – Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, or Camelot itself.
Gaius snuffed the candles and turned in for bed, wondering if he shouldn't be looking over his shoulder for a time-travelling witch come to attack in the night. But Merlin, with whatever secret knowledge he possessed, seemed to sleep peacefully. The fact gave Gaius comfort, but he couldn't quite quell the itch to know, even as he fell asleep.
He needed answers. If they were going to get through this, they all needed answers.