AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Chapter 4! And the chapters are slowly getting longer! YES! Again, thanks for reviewing/favoriting/following.

Merlin sat at the table in his Britain cottage, surrounded by stacks of old tomes. The cottage was small and cozy. The walls and floor were constructed of honey-colored wood. Pictures, paintings, and tapestries covered nearly every inch of the smooth wall.

Behind one such tapestry, there was a hidden compartment, stuffed with weapons, modern and ancient alike. Another compartment was filled with camping and outdoor gear. A third, more carefully hidden space, was stocked with magical items. Cabinets lining the walls were held non-perishable food items.

Merlin was a bit of a prepper. So what? He knew that he might have to cut and run at any time, and he had learned the hard way (several times, in fact) that he needed to be prepared.

Merlin was currently searching for information regarding the dark magic he had felt at Avalon, and what could have been the cause of it. He had ruled out the transportation of evil pixies. He had also decided that Avalon wasn't infested with trolls. Thank goodness for that. (Merlin had had a bad experience with a troll when he had lived in Camelot, and several more in his travels around the world.)

The problem was that there were dozens of possibilities. Merlin could rule out several of the more minor incidences, but there were still many things it could be. Some of them very bad. The pillaging of Avalon was a major one. That could cause huge imbalances in magic.

Another was the veil being split. That would also be very bad. Tangling with the Dorocha had nearly cost Merlin his life.

The worst one, Merlin really didn't want to think about. It could have been that someone was twisting fate, magic, and life to rise from the dead. The warlock shoved the thought out of his head. It had to be something else.

Merlin rubbed his eyes. He needed something to eat. He made a cup of coco and a piece of toast. As he crunched the toast, Merlin flipped through the pages of an ancient book on magic. There were artfully drawn pictures of magical creatures and the effects of spells.

After five more minutes, Merlin slammed the book shut, sending up a small plume of dust. He'd always hated looking for information in Gaius's seemingly endless library. He didn't enjoy it any more fifteen hundred years later.

Merlin swallowed the last bit of his coco and stalked out into his small yard. The sun was unusually warm for the early spring day. Merlin leaned against the waist-high wooden fence and stared out at the street. He lived in a very quiet neighborhood, which he was fine with. It gave him more opportunity to use his magic without being caught.

The sky was clear and blue. The wind blew thorough Merlin's thick black hair. It was days like this, with nothing to do, that Merlin most missed his dead companions. He remembered the times when he and Arthur had been able to act more like brothers instead of servant and master. He missed that.

Merlin sighed and headed back inside. He plopped down into a large, squashy armchair, trying to relax. The sunlight washed through the window and hit the back of his chair, warming him. He was just beginning to doze off when something caused a shadow to block out the light for just a split second.

Merlin's eyes popped open, and he sat up straight, a chill zipping down his spine. Merlin leaned forward, muscles tense. There was a knock on the door, and Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin.

Merlin stumbled to the door, quickly pulling on his boots. He opened the door.

Standing in front of him was the last group of people he would have expected. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and the witch, Wanda Maximoff. Merlin shuddered at the feeling of power rolling off the girl. Something about it was unnatural, but Merlin brushed it off.

"Ah… hello there," he said, surprised.

They were each dressed in their battle gear, except Stark, who was wearing a t-shirt with a crisp, black, suit jacket. He was carrying a large red and gold briefcase. The Iron Man suit.

"Hey, there. Marc Emmy, right?" Stark asked, smiling. "Mind if we come in?" Without waiting for an answer, Tony slipped past Merlin into the small cottage. Steve Rogers rolled his eyes, but followed. "Good to meet you," he told Merlin. Wilson and the Maximoff girl both waved and grinned, following Steve into the room.

They gathered around the table, each taking a chair, leaving Merlin to stand, gaping. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" he cried indignantly. "You can't just barge in here and—"

"Ah, actually, that's where you're wrong," Stark said smugly, picking up a book and inspecting it carefully. "We can, because we're the Avengers and we're awesome."

Rogers rolled his eyes again and took over. "We know that you were holding out on Barton and Romanoff," he said. "We want to know why."

Merlin continued staring, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Finally, he found his voice. His usual under pressure sass returned to him without fail.

"Barton and Romanoff?" Merlin scoffed. "Oh, you mean Hawkeye and Black Widow. The two super spies. Where are they? Skulking around in the back, making sure that I don't make a run for it out the back door?"

Wilson smirked and shook his head. "This guy's good," he chuckled.

Rogers raised an eyebrow, and said, it seemed, to no one in particular, "Your cover is blown. Come on inside."

Merlin heard the back door open. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton walked into the room, perching comfortably on the kitchen cupboards. Merlin huffed and folded his arms. "So I guess my house is a public library now?"

Stark nodded. "Yup," he said happily. "And speaking of, what the heck are all of these?" Stark picked up a six-inch thick tome and flipped through the pages. He inspected the strange symbols inside. "Can you even read this junk?"

"Yes, I can," Merlin snapped. "And it's none of your business anyway."

"Wrong again!" Stark smirked. He tapped his phone and flicked it. A holographic picture flashed in midair. It was the energy readings from the lake compared to the readings from the tesseract.

Merlin squinted at it. "So what?" he asked stiffly. "What does that have to do with me?"

Stark frowned. "Do you even know what those are?"

Merlin nodded. "Of course," Merlin snarked. "They're energy readings, taken from two different sources. I'm not an idiot."

"I resent that!" Wilson called. Everyone stared at him. "What?"

Stark rolled his eyes. "Clint and Natasha were sent to investigate these readings." Stark pointed at the first set. "We found these readings at the lake, the very same lake that we found you at. Coincidence? I think not."

Merlin shrugged. "I hike. I travel. I go where I want to go."

"That's not good enough, Mr. Emmy," Rogers said, a commanding tone in his voice. "We'll stop bothering you if you just answer our questions. Truthfully. Explain."

Merlin shook his head. He couldn't tell people about his magic. It could ruin everything! Arthur was supposed to return someday soon, according to Freya. Arthur would need Merlin to help him adjust to this world.

Merlin plopped down in the couch. He rubbed his temples. "Look," Merlin said. "I didn't have anything to do with… whatever you found at the lake. I'm trying to figure a few things out. I can't help you."

Romanoff pursed her lips. "He's lying," she whispered to her companions. Rogers nodded, stiffly.

Rogers stood. "Mr. Emmy, you're going to have to come with us."

"I will not," Merlin protested, jumping to his feet. "You have no right!"

"It's a matter of international security, son" Rogers said apologetically. "I'm sorry about this. I wouldn't do it unless people were in danger. We need to know what's going on."

Merlin was breathing hard, backing towards the door. Someone grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully behind his back. Merlin gasped at the sting in his elbow and shoulder. "Get off me!" he shouted, whipping his head back, and slamming it into someone's unsuspecting nose. There was a crunch, and Merlin was released.

Merlin whirled around, fists cocked and ready, eyes blazing. Hawkeye's nose was bleeding rather heavily. His eyes were hard. Stark grabbed the handle of his briefcase and jerked. The red and gold metal crawled up his arms quicker than Merlin thought possible. Stark's faceplate slammed down with an ominous click. There was a high pitched whine as Stark charged his repulsors. Rogers, Romanoff, and Wilson readied their weapons. The witch girl raised her hands.

"Stand down, kid," Stark's metallic voice said. "We don't want to hurt you."

Merlin didn't move from his ready stance, eyes flicking between each Avenger. Rogers nodded toward the Maximoff girl. The witch contorted her hands, fingers glowing with red light.

A pulse of red magic encased Merlin's entire body, freezing him in place, constricting his muscles. Merlin considered not blowing his secret and going with the Avengers and telling them a very carefully concocted lie. But then a shiver ran down his spine. It was as if someone had dropped a gob of freezing oil down his shirt. It was horrible. And it was bad, bad, bad.

Merlin's magic reacted unconsciously.

The magic spun out of control in one blast, shattering Maximoff's power, and shoving everyone several feet backwards.

There was a moment of eternal silence.

Then Captain Rogers shouted, "Take him down!"

At the Lake of Avalon, a patch of dirt under a tree shivered. The dirt pulsed and shook, strings of black magic tying bits together. The half-formed being coughed, then laughed, a low, ugly, guttural sound.

The being spoke, seeming to experiment with its voice. "Merlin… Emrys…."