A/N: I think I've gotten more emails, PMs, and badgering reviews about this story than anything, ever. I'm really sorry about the delay, everyone, and it is amazing to hear that you are loving this so much that you feel the need to ask for more, but… give me some grace? Some of the messages were fine and polite and all, and some even had some ideas for future chapters, (thanks, guys!) but a lot of them just seemed kind of, if I'm honest, crass. Nothing horrible, but… Cut me some slack, please? Life happens. I've been run to the bone by work and homework and uni and everything… I never promised to update on a regular basis, did I? I do my best. It's not like I get paid for this, it's a hobby. Also, going back to school has completely muddled my creative process, and I'm having to dust off/re-arrange the ideas I had for this fic. They're still there, but have been a bit jumbled by my life lately. Most of the writing I do do these days is neither here nor there where plot is concerned, just trying to recover all my idea-springs. Give me some time to regroup and I'll (hopefully) get back to this story with my former gusto.
Alright, author rant over. Those don't happen often, but I wasn't expecting to be so harangued about this. I'm ecstatic that y'all care that much, but… mercy, please!
DISCLAIMER: If you do feel the need to ask for updates on a specific story, please do! I do listen to requests, and it's good to know what stories are appreciated. Still, if you do… just know that you're sending off a message to a full-time student with a hundred and one things to do and very little sleep under her belt. I do what I can!
Anyway, on with the (long awaited, apparently) update!
The first day of research was utterly fruitless. The second was hardly better. By the third day of Merlin's insistence upon visiting the archives, it became evident that Arthur wouldn't be able to accompany him much longer. Uther was growing increasingly suspicious of his son's whereabouts, and the prince was forced to leave Merlin to his own devices where research was concerned. Unfortunately, the situation posed a problem because without the prince's escort, Merlin was rendered virtually immovable from Gaius quarters, which had begun to feel more and more like a prison. A very cramped, albeit friendly prison.
The answer to their problem came from an unexpected place: a woodcutter.
His name was Jonathan, and his brother had practically dragged him into Gaius' chambers one morning, ridden with the flu and close to hallucinating because of his fever. Gaius took him in without question, of course, but this put Older Merlin in the uncomfortable position of giving up all his sleeping and living space.
However, if any changes had been wrought on Merlin's character in fifteen years, first on the list was a deep, perceptive shrewdness that knew exactly what to do with the situation. With some contribution from Gaius, a formal request was put in to Uther to temporarily move Older Merlin to residence within the castle.
It couldn't be Older Arthur, because people might confuse him with the also-resident Prince Arthur, and it couldn't be Young Merlin, because of course Gaius needed his apprentice to help with the new patient. But while three may be company, four's a crowd, and having Older Merlin around simply wouldn't do. It was the castle or nothing, Gaius told the King. But it was all for Jonathan's sake, of course. Too many hands proved too many distractions, and one wrong slip and the boy's life could be in danger. It was for the patient's sake. It had absolutely nothing to do with Merlin gaining unpermitted access to locked archives in the middle of the night without crossing the wide open courtyard to scour hidden rooms of illegal books that would hopefully solve their magically-inflicted space continuum problem via advice from two long-gone time traveling sorcerers.
It was for the patient's sake. Naturally.
Begrudgingly, Uther relented. Perfect shrewdness would have disallowed Merlin from celebrating his victory, but then, even Emrys had never been perfect. His smile was only outdone by Gaius' emphatic eyeroll at his antics. As he gathered a few supplies from Gaius chambers (mostly medicines for himself) Merlin came around and tapped his younger self on the shoulder.
"Here," he said, shoving a vile into his own hand, "repeat after me: hande rice-"
"Wait," Young Merlin looked at the vial, confused, "What is this?"
"Borrower's Brew."
"What?"
Merlin looked at him and blinked dumbly, his mind running through timelines and trying to rationalize the confusion on his younger self's face. Eventually, he nodded. "Right, haven't done that yet. Sorry. Borrower's brew - It's a, er… potion. It will – temporarily – give me a bit of your magic. I'll need it to sneak into the archives tonight. Only, you need to enchant it first."
Merlin nodded slowly. "Right." Carefully, he repeated the words that his Older self fed him, and soon the deed was done. He handed the vial back to the other Merlin. "Will I be able to feel anything, then, when you do magic?"
Older Merlin frowned. "I don't believe so. At least, I couldn't whenever I made some for Gwaine, years ago."
King Arthur walked in just in time to hear Young Merlin ask, "Who's Gwaine?"
Older Merlin and Arthur shared a look. Merlin sighed again and shook his head. "Haven't done that yet either, then. Nevermind, forget Gwaine." He took the vial from himself and stowed it in a pocket. "Word to the wise, though, when you do meet him, don't let him near wine. Ale, yes, mead, maybe, but not wine."
Arthur snorted. "You're one to talk, drunkard."
Older Merlin smiled as though this was some sort of inside joke, and Younger Merlin watched, bewildered. Prince Arthur chose that moment to follow his older self inside.
"Right then, ready to go?" He glanced around and caught the eye of Older Merlin. "You're room's all set up, and Father wants you in as quick as possible, so no one will talk."
Older Merlin said goodbye to his younger self, Gaius, and King Arthur, and took up his staff from where it'd been sitting in a corner. His leg had improved enough so he no longer had to walk about small rooms with it (he hoped it was a sign his magic would begin to recuperate, too) but longer treks required the aid of a walking stick. He let Prince Arthur lead the way up into the castle and to the residence suites. Merlin's presence garnered a good deal more attention than it had when they'd been sneaking around at night. Now, out in the open, being led through the busy castle by the prince, people were beginning to stare. A lot. Merlin sighed and wished he had a hood to pull up over his face. Arthur seemed to catch on, and walked as quickly as he could until they reached a set of rooms that Merlin knew were reserved for guests.
"God, you'd think you were royalty, the way they're staring," Arthur said once the door clicked shut.
Merlin smiled. "I don't blame them. Isn't every day there's two of someone walking about the castle." Arthur twitched an eyebrow, taking the point, and gestured around the room.
"Right, well… Bed. Fireplace. Cupboards – I assume you might have learned how to use them?" Merlin didn't want to laugh at the ancient joke, but humored the prince's outdated sense of humor and smiled anyway. "Someone will bring up your dinner tonight, and breakfast tomorrow."
"Oh, breakfast in bed, I am royalty, aren't I?"
"Something a bit less, I'm afraid. My father doesn't want you out of here if he can help it."
Merlin sniffed and looked around. "Still, a cushy prison, at least."
Arthur sighed wearily. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid there isn't much I can do about that. Still, I thought you might want this." He tossed a heavy cloak at Merlin, who caught it. "At very least, it'll give you some cover when you decide to make a break for it."
Merlin smiled and folded the cloak up on his bed. "Thank you, Arthur." Arthur nodded awkwardly, and their conversation lulled. Eventually, the prince shrugged and headed for the door. Before he could leave, however, a thought hit him and he turned.
"Oh, and Merlin?"
"Hmm?"
"If… when you go sneaking about tonight… just… don't let anyone see you." And Merlin's heart warmed the tiniest bit at that familiar but sorely missed concern in the Prince's voice.
"Have a little faith, Arthur. I can be sneaky if I want to be, I told you that."
Arthur didn't even look unconvinced this time, just worried. He nodded anyway, and left without another question.
Morgana watched with growing horror as Merlin was lead through the castle. It didn't take her long to figure out what was happening. Merlin? Older Merlin? Here, in the castle? She grit her teeth. Lady Le Fey was right. He was a meddlesome idiot, wasn't he? She growled under her breath and followed him and Arthur through the corridors as quickly and as unobtrusively as possible. She stopped when they reached the guest wing and Arthur ushered Merlin into one of the visitor's suites.
Merlin, in the castle, closer to her, to her work. Surely he would interfere. Surely he would – no. She made herself stop thinking about it, and resolved herself to use these new developments to her advantage. If anything, this Older Merlin had shown a certain… inclination about what was going on. She would watch him closely, allow him to be her ally - albeit an unwitting ally.
Allowing herself a small smirk, Morgana tilted up her head and stalked away, forming a plan in her mind of how to use the newcomer's presence to her best ability.
It was actually Gwen who appeared that night with his dinner. She peaked her head in and smiled, before coming in fully, bearing a steaming pot of stew.
"Guinevere," Merlin said fondly, and didn't realize how much his smile did to put the serving girl at ease, "I'm surprised to see you," He said. She smiled.
"A bit unorthodox, perhaps, but none of the other servants would go anywhere near you." She realized what she said and looked alarmed. "I mean, because you scare them. No," She closed her eyes and blushed, "Unnerve them. You know, you being here, it's just a bit… because you're not really,"
"I think I understand," he forestalled her with a gentle smile. She flashed a quick grin back. "but shouldn't you be tending to Morgana?"
A hurt look crossed her face. "Lady Morgana isn't very demanding these days," and it didn't sound like that was a good thing, "not at all. I'm free most evenings, so I volunteered to help with your meals." She looked down at the aromatic dish she'd brought with her, and opened it to let out a cloud of steam. "Beef and leek. Not too fancy, but there're enough herbs in there to make up for it. My father loved to use spices, he taught me a few recipes."
Merlin inhaled deeply, appreciating the smell that made his mouth water. "You made this?"
She blushed. "Cook helped," she said.
"I'm honored, Gwen, thank you." He took up a bowl and reached over the table to spoon out a portion. As he did so, Gwen couldn't help but notice his wedding band again. She stood there staring at it, and he mistook her silence as hunger.
"Would you like to join me for dinner? Lord knows your better company than Arthur after he's been cooped up for a week." She snapped visibly out of her thoughts and smiled.
"Oh, no, I shouldn't, I have chores to-"
"Gwen," he said and she looked up, "Please. I know it's… odd, but we're friends. I need some company." And he might have sounded a bit more pathetic than he would have liked, but Gwen relented, and sat down with him to eat. After a few moments, she found herself staring at his ring finger again, and eventually just had to ask.
"Is she nice?"
Merlin stopped midbite, nonplussed. "Sorry?" he twisted confused eyebrows at her
Gwen blushed, and pointed noncommittally at Merlin's hand. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help but notice your… is she nice?"
Merlin caught on, and glanced down at the ring. "Ah," He said, a bit flustered. "Well, yes, I'd say so."
Gwen bit her lip but couldn't help herself. "Do I know her?"
Merlin smiled a bit. "No, not yet," he sounded amused.
She wanted to ask more, but stopped herself and ate in silence for a moment or two. Then another question started burning at her lips.
"And, um… I also noticed… That is, Arthur, he's married too, in the future, isn't he?"
Merlin suddenly froze, and gently lowered his spoon back into his stew. "Yes," he said carefully. Gwen tried to keep her face plain.
"And is she… is she nice?"
And then Merlin gave her this look, one that was unnerving and comforting and strange. "Why are you asking me this?" He asked, not unkindly.
She shrugged. "I just… wondered. If he was… if he was happy."
"He is, that."
"Oh. Good." She fiddled with her fingers before blurting out, "Is she good to him? Kind? …nice?"
And then came that smile again, and that look. "Yes to all, and much, much more." Merlin said. "They are both very happy, wonderful people. Well, Arthur's always a prat, but his wife is lovely all the time." Merlin turned back to his stew.
They were quiet for a while, Gwen away in her own thoughts, her heart sunken in her chest. At least he was happy, she tried to tell herself. But then why wasn't she? "Do I… do I know her, yet?" Gwen asked quietly. Merlin looked up at her and just looked, for a while. He seemed to wrestle with himself before saying,
"I'm not sure that you do," he said, and she felt disappointed. "You might have seen her once or twice. You'll be getting to know her soon enough, but won't know that it's her until later."
"How will I know?" She had to ask. Merlin's smile was secretive.
"You'll figure it out. She's an angel. Wonderful, kind, smart, able, confident… though I don't know if she knows that yet." He paused when Gwen's face suddenly started showing signs of jealousy. "And don't worry, you'll like her. The two of you are close friends, in the future."
"Truly?"
He couldn't help it when his smile widened. "Truer than I can say."
A/N: I had originally planned more for this chapter, but I think this will do for now. Hope you enjoyed it! Again, I'm sorry about the delay, and I hope to begin posting more often, professors and homework willing.
NOTE: If anyone is wondering, the 'Borrower's Brew' potion is a nod to another one of my stories, A Friend in Need.