Disclaimer: I still don't own Merlin


Apparently destiny had it in for Lady Helen. (Her name was definitely Lady Helen. Merlin was forty percent certain of it.)

She lasted a day longer than she would have originally. For some reason, this didn't comfort Merlin, who had resolved that he was going to save everyone he could without ruining the time-stream continuum. After all, he didn't have to save Arthur's life to become his manservant. There were far more orthodox routes (involving bribery, Gaius's string-pulling, and maybe a little magical forgery). Lady Helen should have been allowed to live.

But no, fate seemed adamantly opposed to a breathing Lady Helen.

Not that Merlin was to know this, as he tip-toed past a snoring Gaius. He'd forgotten how loud the physician could be while he was sleeping. The whole situation made him feel odd, like he was was walking through a dream world. It had been years since he'd had to do any sneaking at all, and even longer since he'd had to hide his magical abilities.

Hopefully he wasn't out of practice.

Uther's Camelot was kind of creepy at night – not to mention unguarded. Merlin barely had to use any magic at all to sneak through the gates. Honestly, who trained the guards anyways? They followed moving barrels like cats follow a ball of yarn: utterly ridiculous. Merlin had always held a sneaking suspicion that they were under the employ of one of the anti-Uther groups out there. As for the creepiness, Merlin blamed it on the lack of a magical hum that was in a constant flow around his Camelot. This old version was just... dead.

It took two hours to find Lady Helen's camp.

A campfire lit the area around her ladyship's tent, and from what Merlin could see, there were at least six guards attending (not that that meant anything). He paused behind a tree for a minute, trying to decide on a course of action. For one thing, it would probably be a good idea to determine whether or not she was still Lady Helen.

How to do that... ah, a mirror. If he was correct about the type of enchantment Mary Collins had used, she would probably be revealed by a mirror's reflection.

Using a basic camouflage spell (true invisibility spells always gave Merlin a headache), Merlin slipped towards the tent. Just as he was about to peer in, ready to close his eyes in case she wasn't decent (that would be completely awkward), Merlin stepped on a rather crackly twig.

"Hello?" a woman asked. Merlin cursed mentally. She sounded scared. "Gregory?"

One of the knights posted by the entrance opened the tent flap and peered inside. "I'm here," he reassured. Merlin remained frozen against the tent wall, praying that the man didn't look too closely.

"Is all well?" Lady Helen asked.

"Yes ma'am. With luck we should reach Camelot by tomorrow," said the knight.

"That's good," Lady Helen said, sounding shaky.

Sensing her distress, Sir Gregory added, "I'll be outside if you need me."

He closed the tent flap and walked back towards the fire, giving Merlin enough space to breath.

All right, so that probably wasn't Mary Collins, but he had to check. Carefully, and watching out for devious twigs, Merlin crept towards the entrance and moved a small piece of the fabric.

There she was, doing her hair. In front of a mirror.

How convenient. And here he'd been prepared to conjured one out of thin air... And better yet, she was doing her hair in front of a mirror that just happened to reflect herself.

Smiling slightly, Merlin replaced the fabric and backed away from the clearing into the trees. Now to wait for Mary Collins to arrive. Merlin circled the campgrounds, silently placing magical alarms around that area that would warn him of any intruders.

Thirty minutes later, Merlin was just about to fall asleep against a tree when one of his spells began to blare, sending magical shockwaves in his direction. Jolted out of his relaxed state, it took several moments to pick the spot his enchantment had been broken.

From behind the tent...

Jumping up, Merlin sprinted through the trees, ignoring one of the knights who'd taken out his sword and had demanded to know who was there. Like an intruder would actually declare themselves, Merlin scoffed internally.

The warlock found that he really had to focus his magic to see Mary Collins. It was now obvious the witch was no petty magic-user. She was using an advanced form of magic to hide herself known as the shadow concealment, hiding everything but her shadow until she dropped the spell.

"Belúcan," Merlin muttered from behind a tree, wanting to make sure there was no chance escape.

The witch turned and glared violently in his direction.

Just great! She was one of those people. The ones that could sense magic.

She began to run, riling up the knights even more than Merlin had. Hindered by his lack of sleep and the confusion of the men, Merlin was unable to catch up with her before she had vanished using her teleportation necklace.

Since he couldn't voice his frustration, Merlin had to settle for banging his forehead against the nearest tree, imprinting his skin with a bark pattern. He hadn't even managed to put a tracking spell on her – what sort of a warlock was he?

Sighing, Merlin placed a few powerful wards around Lady Helen's tent before dragging himself back to Camelot. Hopefully Gaius wouldn't wake him up too early.

O o O

"Merlin..."

"Merlin..."

Merlin mentally blocked Kilgharrah's voice, unwilling to wake up just yet. Why couldn't the crazy over-grown lizard just let him be? He'd been in Camelot for less than a day, for crying out loud! With that, Merlin flipped over and fell back asleep.

O o O

Gaius came up to his room two hours later, banging on the door with a force that could rival Arthur.

"Merlin! Get up! It's nearly midday!"

Merlin groaned but complied and rolled out of bed.

"Merlin?"

"I'm up!" he called, lugging off his night shirt.

"Good," came the reply.

A minute later Merlin flung open the door and came bounding down the stairs.

Gaius sent the young man a incredulous look. "You slept for nearly fourteen hours," he noted.

I wish, Merlin thought, but replied with a yawn, "I was really tired out by that trip, I guess."

"I saved you some breakfast," Gaius said, setting a bowl of porridge on the table, "but I'm afraid it's gone a bit cold."

"That's alright," Merlin said, planning to heat it up with magic.

Gaius watched his new ward take a seat at the table. Then, as surreptitiously as he could, he walked by the bucket of water sitting on the edge and knocked it off.

Almost automatically, Merlin used magic to stop the bucket and the water. Gaius gasped. Merlin grinned and made the water flow back into the bucket before setting it gently on its perch.

"How did you do that?" Gaius demanded. "Did you encant a spell in your mind?"

Merlin took a bite of his now-heated breakfast and shook his head.

Gaius frowned. "So what did you do? There must be something."

Merlin swallowed. "That's just it. I've have instinctual magic, see? I don't need words for things like that."

Gaius looked skeptical. "I've never heard of anything like it," he breathed.

Merlin shrugged again and continued to eat.

Gaius straightened, determining that now was not the time for such nonsense. "By the way, Merlin, the water is for you, since you didn't wash last night."

Merlin sniffed himself and winced. "Right," he said feebly.

The old physician chuckled. "And then," he added, "you can do some errands for me. Until you find a real job I'm afraid all I can offer is a position as my assistant."

Merlin smiled up at the man. "Thank you," he said, completely heartfelt.

Gaius looked satisfied by his answer and said, "You're perfectly welcome, my boy."

O o O

Delivering the potions took a lot less effort than it had the first time around since he knew where everything was. It was probably also the reason he managed to make it in time to witness Arthur's 'torture the servant' performance, a routine he was intimately familiar with.

Time to go save the royal prat from his own idiocy...

Edmund was running after the knife-infested shield when Merlin 'accidentally' ran into Arthur.

"Hey!" Arthur declared, shoving Merlin away from him. "Watch where you're going."

Merlin stumbled and ignored the urge to roll his eyes.

"Just trying to stop you from embarrassing yourself," he replied innocently, watching Gwen out of the corner of his eyes.

Arthur gave him a very confused look. "I'm sorry. What?"

But Merlin wasn't paying attention to his voice, instead, he was focused on Arthur's form. "You're thin!" he declared, sounding amazed.

"What?" Arthur asked, slightly disturbed by Merlin's wide-eyed staring.

The warlock circled Arthur like a vulture. "You aren't even really that muscly yet!" he said incredulously. "Let alone fat..."

Arthur grabbed the front of Merlin's shirt. "Are you calling me fat?" he asked in a deadly tone.

Merlin continued to stare. Arthur was practically a bean pole compared to his future self! Then he gasped as Arthur punched him in the gut.

"OW!" Merlin cried, wrangling himself out of Arthur's grasp. He brushed himself off. "Didn't you even hear me? I was calling you the opposite of fat, you clotpole!" He winced and rubbed his stomach.

The crowd took in a belated breathe. He'd just insulted the prince.

"What did you just call me?" Arthur asked, taking a step towards him.

"A clotpole," Merlin wheezed.

"And what exactly is that supposed to be?" Arthur asked, laughing at the idiocy of the boy in front of him.

Merlin grinned. Oh, no, he couldn't resist...

"Two words?" he asked, fully aware that this wasn't going to turn out well.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and gestured for him to continue.

"Prince Arthur."

The crowd laughed rapaciously and the last thing Merlin saw was Arthur's fist.

He definitely could have handled that better.