Reluctantly, after confiding in Arthur for a while later, Merlin agreed to come out of his internal hermitage and interact with the others, if only enough to make them stop worrying. Neither king nor sorcerer mentioned their conversation again, and both attempted to bury their fears for the time being.

Although confused by the lack of closure, the younger Merlin and Arthur did not question the secrecy, although the older two caught the Prince squinting thoughtfully at them more than before. Gaius seemed relieved by Older Merlin's suddenly open attitude, however slight it was in nature.

Without delving into details of their discussion, King Arthur communicated the urgency of their situation to the others with little difficulty.

"We have no way of knowing what we'll face in trying to get back to our time," He said, glancing at his younger self with slight unease. The Prince was the only one who knew nothing of Morgana's involvement. "But we need to work quickly and anticipate trouble. The sooner we can get out of here, the better for all of us." Unsurprisingly no one challenged his judgment.

It was soon decided that Older Merlin would need to take a look at the texts that the Arthurs had perused, searching with a more experienced eye and the new knowledge of the Golcars' involvement. King Arthur explained to his younger counterpart that Merlin knew more of time travel – and yes, magic – than any of them, and while the Prince found this absurdly hard to believe, did not protest for long. He agreed to take Merlin to the archives the next day.

"Only," He said as their conversation dwindled, "How am I supposed to get him in there? You know my father doesn't want others to, well… to see you. Am I supposed to just smuggle him into the castle under my cloak?" He shrugged. Older Merlin smiled.

"It's a thought, but I don't think it will be necessary. I can be quite sneaky when I want to be."

Arthur had already gotten over the fact that Merlin might know a thing or two about magic, but the look on his face said that he wasn't quite ready to believe that.

It had been suggested that Merlin might want to don his younger counterpart's clothes to sneak into the archives, but they had ditched the plan when they realized the staff would give him away regardless. Besides, Older Merlin told them, he much preferred his own (better tailored) tunic. So they merely waited until dusk, one of the least busy times of the day, and rushed to Geoffrey's wing of the castle as quickly and quietly as they could.

Arthur opened the door to the Archives and let Merlin pass through before him. As the two stepped down into the dim hall, someone rounded the corner and stopped in surprise.

"Lady Morgana," Merlin said coolly, as Arthur jumped at her sudden appearance.

"Merlin," Morgana was quicker to recover than her half-brother. Discreetly, she hid the book she was holding behind her. Merlin watched her do it, and lifted his eyes to hers with an inquisitor's eyebrow. She did her best to ignore him. "Arthur, is this…?" She looked Merlin up and down, taking in his clothes, his staff, his beard.

"Yes," Arthur told her, "but don't speak a word of it to anyone."

"What are you doing here?" She asked with a smile Merlin read as forced.

Arthur began to speak, but Merlin interrupted him. "I'm afraid we must be along, I'm not supposed to be here, as you know. I apologize for startling you." Merlin grabbed Arthur's shoulder and steered him past the lady with strength that Younger Merlin did not yet possess. He glanced back at Morgana once, hoping to spy what book she'd been carrying, but she was already gone.

"What the hell?" Arthur slapped Merlin's hand away. "Are you always this rude in the future? It's just Morgana!"

Merlin grit his teeth and tried not to wince. Just Morgana. Arthur made it sound so simple. "The fewer people who know I'm here, the better," was all he said to Young Arthur. The prince looked unappeased. Still, it was less painful than the truth.

Morgana's heels clacked on the flagstones as she hurried from the archives. Merlin? Older Merlin? With Arthur, in the archives. But why? What pursuit had they in there? A claw of fear snatched at her heart, and she wondered if they were on to her. But how could they be? She'd specifically said that they wouldn't know, that even he didn't know about what she was doing.

Nevertheless, an itch of uneasiness made Morgana wonder. She needed to speak with the one who'd brought them here, the one who'd made her a promise. She needed to speak with Lady Le Fey.

She checked the hall twice and searched her room for Gwen before she locked the door and pulled the scrying mirror from beneath her bed.

It'd taken a bit longer than it should have to distract Geoffrey long enough for Merlin to get into the southern wing, where the 'magic room' was located, but once they'd done it, Arthur had rendezvoused with him and snuck back into the roomful of magic books.

Upon entering, Merlin stopped and stared, jaw dropped in a gobsmacked expression.

Arthur spied him with the torchlight. "You alright, Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head and shuffled dumbly into the room, looking around. "What happened?!" He cried, and set the torch into a wall setting before frantically kneeling by the piles and piles of dusty, disorganized books. "What have you done? What has – what was Geoffrey thinking?" He picked up a half-decimated book and made strange whimpering noises in the back of his throat at the state of it. "Monmouth, you damn clot, when I get back to my time, I'm going to hunt you down and turn your good-for-nothing-hide…" Arthur heard him mutter. The prince was frowning.

"Something wrong?" He asked tentatively.

"Wrong?" Merlin stood and wheeled on him. "This… This is what's wrong!" He gestured with his staff around the room. "Look at this mess! Dust, everywhere! And on the floor! And there're just… scattered! No organization, no protection, and I don't want to know what's living in here," Arthur glanced nervously around his boots at that, "it's in ruins! My library! In ruins!" Merlin groaned and leaned against his staff.

"Wait, your library?" Arthur looked confused. "These… In the future, they belong to you?"

Merlin came out of his horror to realize that he'd unthinkingly implied something rather heavy. He looked at Arthur out of the corner of his eye. "All these books are in my care, yes."

"Magic books?"

"Arthur told you I know a thing or two, didn't he? And they're not all magic books. Some are more scientific. Some are historical. Some are even personal journals."

Arthur saw through it. "But they're all about magic, in some way."

Merlin bit his lip. "A bit, yeah."

"Right." And to Merlin's surprise, it was the only word Arthur said on the matter.

Merlin began to clean up the floor and tables, muttering curses against Geoffrey's carelessness as he went, and was repeatedly disappointed as he tried to use subtle magic and was reminded that the lapses still had a hold on his power. He was forced to sweep and dust by hand. Arthur helped him in silence. Eventually, after they'd cleared up a suitable amount of the clutter, Arthur brought him a stack that he and his older counterpart had accumulated previously.

"I – that is, we – I mean, Arthur and I," Arthur rolled his eyes and Merlin hid a smile at his confusion, "found these when we were looking through here the other day. He said they're in the Old Tongue, whatever the hell that means. Don't suppose in addition to bookkeeping you've picked up any habit in dead languages, have you?"

"I might've done, and it's not dead just yet. Let me see?" He took the top book from Arthur and opened it.

"Ah, yes. I know this one. It'll be useless to our ends. It's on botany, for one, and relatively recently published, despite the language." He snapped it shut with a cloud of dust. "Tell you what. You go and start fetching books. Glance at them, if they're in the Old Tongue, give them to me. If not, check the date first: we're looking for texts from either the late second and early third centuries, or possibility of our own sixth century. If they fit in those times, go ahead and look for any mention of Golcar."

"Why the two different time periods?" Arthur asked.

Merlin cracked a smile at the prince as he picked up another book. "Golcar and his brother were time travelers, Arthur," He flipped through the pages. "Use your imagination."

To say that Lady Le Fey was displeased with Merlin's movements was an understatement. Morgana had been forbidden from seeing Le Fey's face, but her voice carried the rage well enough through the scrying mirror, which had been their main form of communication since her arrival in Camelot – or wherever le Fey was located. She hadn't given specifics after she'd left Camelot.

"This… This is how he always interferes. This is what makes Emrys Emrys. Keep an eye on him."

"I'm sorry, milady," She said, voice shaking ever so slightly. "I tried to poison him before he awoke but-"

"No. Do not concern yourself. It is done. But now, we must be extra vigilant."

"Shall I attempt to… to stop him again?"

There was a long pause before Le Fey spoke again. "No," She said at last, a new, thoughtful lilt in her voice. "No, better to leave him be for now. But watch. Watch carefully. I do not think he has uncovered your intentions – not yet, anyway, so be careful. But clearly, he is up to something. Does he suspect you at all?"

Morgana was confused by it all, because despite what Le Fey had told her, she still thought of the newcomer as Merlin. She did not understand the idea of Emrys. "I do not think so. But he looks at me oddly. I told you that the younger one discovered me just after my failure. I fear he has figured out what happened and has told the older one."

Le Fey sounded like she was making an effort not to sound angry when she said, "So you told me before. You need to lie low. Avoid the older ones. Spy from the shadows. Speak only with the younger ones, if you can. Find out as much as possible, and let me know everything."

"As you wish, milady."

Although the idea of hunting down two time travelers in a roomful of forbidden books with a man from the future who wasn't supposed to be anywhere in the castle (let alone the archives) was secretly rather thrilling for Arthur, the dullness of reality was quick to grate at him.

Research was boring.

No, scratch that, fruitless research was boring. They'd gone through what felt like half of the entire library (with Merlin rearranging, cleaning, and classifying as he went, the prick) and Arthur's eyes were beginning to go fuzzy and refused to realign. He closed a book, set it aside, and rubbed at his eyes.

"So, I'm curious." The Prince said, desperate for conversation. "Where does one learn to read the 'Old Tongue'?"

Merlin glanced up at him. "Well, if you must know, one studies magic."

Arthur stared, but it was a dead stare. He wasn't even sure if he could be surprised, anymore. "You've studied magic?" Of course, he missed the irony in the grin that followed.

"Something like that." There was a rather awkward pause. Merlin didn't look up from his reading as he said dryly, "Why, you want to kill me for it?"

"Can you do magic?" Merlin sensed the change in tone and looked up fully at Arthur. The Prince was looking at him with equal parts curiosity and discomfort. Merlin sighed. It would feel so much more natural to just admit it. Yes, I have magic, you dolt. I'm your Court Sorcerer in the future. Can't you feel it? These books? The magic? It's a part of your life too, you're just too much of a clotpole now to realize it. But Merlin was sure that neither he nor Young Merlin nor Young Arthur were ready for that conversation to open amongst them. He gave Arthur a calculating stare.

"No, I can't."

And at that particular moment, it wasn't a lie.

Arthur looked at him, and eventually gave a soft snort. "Course not. Don' t know why I asked. If you could do magic, you couldn't have been Merlin – not our Merlin, anyway."

Merlin frowned at him. "Why do you say that?"

"He's far too much of an idiot."

And while Merlin faked a laugh for Arthur's sake, on the inside, he wanted to frown deeper. Idiot had never been a painful remark between them. But that time, it hurt. It hurt far more than he would like to admit. Deliberately, Merlin turned back to his reading, taking comfort in the words that Arthur didn't yet understand.

A/N: Phew! Well, I'm back at Uni for my sophomore year, and things are going well, however hectic they are. Hopefully I'll still find some spare time lying around to write with and update more often! A bit of an awkward ending, but I hope y'all enjoyed it regardless!