Title: More Than It Seems

Author: Minch

Summary: Merlin, Arthur, and the knights are captured. However, their abductor is not interested in the King of Camelot or even Emrys. He only wants the stranger imprisoned with them. What is that stranger's secret, and what does their abductor so desperately want from him?

Rating: T, because I am not going to be nice to these guys in this fic.

Spoilers: Occurs in between Series Four and Series Five.

Disclaimer: I hold absolutely no claim to ownership of Merlin. It belongs to BBC and Shine, Ltd. I'm just someone with a boundless imagination who happens to love the show.

Author's note: I'm borrowing jargon from Tamora Pierce's books. (Don't judge; they're good books.)

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Chapter Thirteen: Complete

He was a young man, perhaps a little older than Merlin. Then again, he could not be sure. The man seemed to be simultaneously young and ancient. His nose was slightly bent, as if it had been broken long ago and healed not quite perfectly. His light brown hair was tousled in a devil-may-care fashion. But his eyes were the most mysterious. Eyes that had seen many things, undergone much pain and suffering, eyes that belonged to an old man. And yet, there was that spark of mischief in them that is only found in the eyes of a youth.

And somehow Merlin recognised the eyes. Though the startlingly green irises were speckled with ash, they were exactly like…

Merlin stared. "No," he said faintly. "It can't be."

The young man smiled. "It is," he said simply.

Merlin shook his head, dumbfounded. "You…died. Burned. There's…there's nothing left."

The young man showed his hands, palms up. Merlin had not seen him remove the arm guards, but the armour was no longer there. Twin cuts gouged his hands. "Shall I show you the mace scars in my side as well," he asked calmly, "or will you doubt no more?"

Merlin shook his head again. "I want to believe, but how…"

The young man sat back and explained, "Imagine someone's soul as being like wine in a flagon. Suppose that the wine is poured out of the flagon into a goblet, and then a different wine is also poured into the same goblet. You would not say 'The wine has vanished entirely.' The wine is still present, just in a different place and a different form.

"In that way, though the body of Alder was destroyed, his soul still exists within this form. But his soul –my soul– is no longer alone."

"What?" Merlin was still trying to wrap his mind around the notion that the boy who had been brutally murdered and incinerated right in front of him was somehow not dead.

"Look at your friends." The manservant turned his head and the young man put a hand on his shoulder. The lights that Merlin had seen in his dreams were inside Arthur and the knights.

"Are those their souls?" he asked.

"They are. You were able to see them in your dreams, I believe."

Arthur's light was crimson with specks of gold interspersed throughout its light. Another scarlet light shone in Leon's chest, but without the gold. Gwaine's soul was that outrageous and yet steadfast orange colour. Elyan's russet-brown lantern burned with a warm light, and Percival's glowed with a deep purple radiance.

Merlin looked down at his own chest. In his core, a sapphire lamp with gold highlights burned fiercely. "Is that…" He trailed off, unsure of how to ask.

"Your magic? Yes. Magic is in your very essence, in your very soul."

"And your soul?" Like Merlin's, the light that was this young man's soul had more than one colour in it. The black that Merlin had seen before was gone, leaving only the green and grey. But there was no longer a space between them. The emerald and ash were completely amalgamated.

The lights faded as the young man withdrew his hand from Merlin's shoulder. "Within Alder's body, there were two souls: his and one of those extremely-long-lived-souls-with-great-power."

"Which one?" Merlin felt a headache brewing.

"One name for him was Manawyddan, the son of Llyr and the husband of Rhiannon."

"You say 'was'," Merlin pointed out. "And you refer to Alder as if you aren't him."

The young man smiled sadly. "Because I am not Manawyddan or Alder. I am both." His smile grew sympathetic as Merlin put his face in his hands, a headache now raging in his skull. "I know, it's a lot to digest."

"A lot to digest?" He could not sit still any longer. He stood and began to pace. "We were trapped –tortured– for days." The young man sat quietly, letting him rant. "We thought we were getting out, only to be carted back to the fortress and watch you be slaughtered! You, you could've told me. You could've told us."

"Could Alder have told you what he did not know himself?"

Merlin whirled around to glower at him. "Who the hell are you even?!"

"I told you," he said quietly. "I am neither Alder nor Manawyddan, but a bit of both."

"Then what do I call you?"

The young man looked puzzled for a moment. "Truthfully, I don't know." He thought for a bit, then said, "How about Robin?"

"Robin?"

Robin shrugged. "Why not? Please, let me tell you the whole story. Judge as you will after then, but at least hear me out."

Merlin sat back down and nodded stiffly. "Alright. Tell."

The young man who was once Alder sighed. "As I said, I am no longer Alder or Manawyddan, but a mixture of the two of them. When I was two separate beings, Manawyddan's spirit resided in the mound Alder spoke of. How he came to be there is a very long story, one I need not go into. When Alder opened the door in the mound, he drew Manawyddan's spirit out and into himself. Quite by accident," he assured Merlin when the latter started to interrupt. "Manawyddan did not mean for it to happen, but once it occurred there was no way to go back.

"It is not an easy task for a mortal and an immortal to share one body. By his nature, Manawyddan could not remain cooped up indefinitely. When Alder blacked out, Manawyddan would take control, hence the incidents."

"Couldn't you have just let Alder 'keep control'?"

Robin looked mildly affronted. "You try being trapped in a mortal vessel for a few years without burning it up. If he –Manawyddan– tried to keep all of his power contained, he would have destroyed Alder's body." He regained his composure and continued. "The best approach available to the both of them was for Manawyddan to let off some power every now and then. Unfortunately, that would mean Alder would not remember what his body was doing for that time. Most of the time, he did so when Alder was alone, but he could not always be sure that no one was watching. A boy in his village once saw him when he was not himself. He began taunting Alder for not knowing who his father was." He fidgeted. "With Manawyddan's temper, I am surprised the boy got away with only a black eye and a broken arm. After that, the villagers were convinced that Alder had to die. You know what happened next."

"Your–his–Alder's mother told him about his father, told him to leave Stonesbury."

"Yes. His father did not believe his story until he saw the ring. Even then, he was reluctant to take Alder in. As a bowyer, he taught him fletching and archery, but he never truly loved him." Robin stared off, saddened by the memories. "He was duty-bound to provide for Alder and to teach him his family's craft, but he did not find it in himself to extend his obligations to love."

Merlin hesitated. The person sitting beside him was no longer a stranger, but someone who knew what it was like to be an outcast. He put a hand on Robin's shoulder, comforting him as he had comforted Alder.

He squeezed the hand in thanks. "The blackouts continued, estranging Alder from his father even more. That time ended when Alder overheard him speaking with another of the bowyers. He did not want to believe that the boy everyone thought was mad was his son."

"So he ran away," Merlin guessed. "He was running away when…"

"When Renault caught all of you."

"But once we were there, why couldn't you free us? Alder was trapped with us. Couldn't you have just taken control? Didn't you care?"

"I did care, But for it to have done any good, Manawyddan would had burned Alder's body up in the effort. The only thing to do was wait. But when Renault cut Alder's left hand, he learned the secret that was kept from even Alder himself: that Manawyddan was with him. To have a god under his control, that would have completed his quest for strength and the whole world as we know it would have been over."

"So when he said he was waiting to call someone forth, he meant you."

"Manawyddan, yes." He looked as if he was tiring of Merlin referring to him as the god he no longer was. "The knife cut implanted a sickness in Alder, weakening both him and Manawyddan to the point where the boundary between their thoughts began to fail. Renault's plan was to wait until Alder was nearly dead, then kill him to force the immortal out and enslave his power. But he did not. He defiled the ancient rituals of what you call the Old Religion. He perverted them until they worked toward his will. But this time, he failed. By killing Alder and destroying his body –the vessel– Manawyddan's spirit fled beyond his reach forever."

"What happened next?" When Robin looked at him, Merlin clarified, "I mean, I was there when Alder was–was killed, but I still don't know what happened."

"Manawyddan pulled Alder's soul out of the Otherworld and completely joined with him. That joining of spirits became me. I remember both of their lives, I have both of their skills, but I am my own being. For the first time in Alder's life –and the first time since Bran died for Manawyddan– we are complete. We are no longer alone."

"So, what you were talking about, burying your brother's head…"

"That was Manawyddan's brother, Bran. He was killed in battle, but commanded his companions to bury his head in Caer-Lundein, which lies to the south and east of here on the banks of the river Thames."

"And the thing about the mouse? You were really going to hang a mouse?"

"Yeah." Robin fidgeted under the attention. "I told you that Manawyddan had a temper. It's a long story," he said when Merlin started to speak again. "and he didn't hang the mouse after all." He looked up, as if someone had called his name. "I do need to leave soon, Merlin." He stood and picked up his bow. The armguards were back, though Merlin had not seen him put them on. Night was nearly upon them.

"Why?" That was all Merlin could think to ask. "Why did you come back?"

"Manawyddan promised to snap Renault's neck. I had to make good on that vow. And I owed you an explanation at least," Robin said. "More than that, I wanted to see you before the coming time. In the years that have passed since Arthur was crowned king, many good things have come to the land. But you must beware. Sooner than any of you would like, the die will be cast and Albion's greatest trial will begin.

"But do not despair." He laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "That time is still in the future. Do not lose hope, even when all lights go out. For the darkest hour is just before the dawn. And I will be there in that darkest hour, standing beside you." He turned to face the trees, pulling the hood back up and over his head. "I must leave now. Even the most obtuse of gods will not be able to ignore my presence here if I stay any longer."

"So, this is good-bye?" Merlin did not want him to go. Robin was not Alder, but he still felt a kinship with him.

"No. It is only fare thee well, until next time." With that, he began to move off, his form wavering on the edges.

"Wait," Merlin called. "You said something; that gods can't associate with mortals. How will there be a next time?"

"I would certainly call this little conversation an association," Robin replied.

Merlin's head buzzed. "If that's true, then what am I?"

"I can't tell yeh all the secrets." For that moment, Alder was back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "If I did, where would yeh find the wonder in the world?" He disappeared into the woods without a trace.

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Merlin eventually fell back asleep and awoke with the others as the sun rose the next day. Everyone was well-rested, healed in body and mind. They donned their armour and rode away to the west. By mid-afternoon they came to a wonderful, familiar sight.

Up ahead, the white walls and towers of the citadel of Camelot gleamed in the sun. The line of horses cantered along the road and through the gates. As glad as Merlin was to see his home, he stopped his horse. Turning back, he looked out to the east.

Arthur noticed that he lingered. The king guided his horse back to where the manservant was. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"He can't hurt anyone else," Arthur finally said.

"And he's at peace," Merlin answered. Both knew that they were speaking of two different people.

Together, they turned their mounts and entered the gates of Camelot. After everything they had endured, Merlin was also at peace. Renault was dead. His thoughts and dreams and fears belonged to him and him alone once more. He was free.

The shell of a man he had seen in the mirror and in his dreams still haunted his footsteps, but the boy like Alder was also there. Like Robin, who was both Alder and Manawyddan, if he could reconcile the two people he was, he too could be whole. He would be ready to face the dark hours ahead, and then the dawn.

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I know, it's a lot to digest. Feel free to ask any questions in reviews! I will do my best to answer them.

Check back on 12 October for the epilogue.