Fic: Merlin; G; Equilibrium - Chapter 4
Title: Equilibrium (4/9 + Epilogue)
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: G/PG
Wordcount: This part: 8070, Overall ~44000
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Percival (OC)
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor any of the characters. The version of Arthurian legend this was inspired by/based on belongs to the Beeb.
Warnings: Vague corruption of Arthurian Legend
Spoilers: Up to the Gates of Avalon
Author’s Note: Many thanks to wrennette for the beta work. A lo-ong chapter to make up for last time. Also:
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!
Summary: In this part: Merlin works out how to discover the truth and is almost caught in a dangerous position and with a little help from Gaius, they start looking for a way to get everything back to normal, but things are never simple.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2| 3|
From the moment he walked into the building, Arthur was confused. He had been inside Gaius’ house many times over the years but it was as though the world had been shifted slightly out of balance. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was. Everything was a few centimetres higher than usual. The table came too high on his leg, his eyesight was level with the wrong things and everything was… larger. Or, rather, he was smaller. He huffed under his breath at the inconvenience of the realisation.
He had not noticed it in the castle, though, presumably because everything was so much bigger there that the slight difference had been negligible, not to mention the fact that he had not really been paying attention. For some reason he had been more focussed on himself than his surroundings. He slumped into Gaius’ chair in as elegant a manner as he could manage in his current state, glaring at Merlin as he smothered a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asked tersely and Merlin’s pursed lips grew into a grin.
“It’s just… you look like you and you don’t look like you,” he commented cryptically and Arthur sighed in exasperation, looking out through the window and trying to pretend that the fact that Merlin seemed to be acknowledging him as himself was not making him overwhelmingly relieved. He must not have been able to cover it up particularly well - he blamed the new face which was a lot clumsier and more difficult to control than his old one - because Merlin was giving him the look that meant his manservant was attempting to be sympathetic. That never ended well - usually with one or other of them almost getting killed in his experience.
“Fine… now, can we talk about what we’re going to do about this?” he asked, trying to get the grin off his manservant’s face. It was highly irritating to be at his mercy. While his earlier ploy had failed miserably, this one worked like a charm. The grin fell from Merlin’s face and was replaced with a wary, almost guilty expression. The man’s blue eyes kept darting to the door and then back to Arthur, almost as though he was afraid.
“Yeah, of course…” he said, and Arthur smirked slightly with amusement as the words stumbled out of his mouth. “Right.” There was a sudden and complete change as Merlin straightened up, and seemingly gained a good few inches of height. His posture was confident and in control, although his eyes were still nervous, like his smile.
“You…” he looked around the room before hold his hands out, palms extended towards Arthur as though he were some kind of wild animal. Rolling his eyes, the Prince leaned back and made to put his foot up on the table, only to realise he had misjudged the distance. Where his own heels would have just rested on the edge, the new legs simply fell through thin air, leaving him blushing in embarrassment (and that was another thing - blushing: he could feel the heat coursing across his face) and Merlin looking as though he was about to explode from suppressed laughter.
“Just stay right there… and,” the mocking grin was back, to Arthur’s annoyance, although he found its familiarity more than a little relaxing, “try not to hurt yourself, okay?” He glared at Merlin, but found himself glaring at the back of his head as he disappeared up into his room.
He let out a long breath and stared idly around at the room. It was small and dull and wooden, and that was all there really was to it. He counted the bottles of strange ointments, liniments and medicines that stood on the shelf opposite, then he counted how many of them were green, then how many were blue.
There was a strange one in the middle that was midway between and he was not sure how to classify. In the end, after a deliberation about whether to count it in both categories or create its own special section, just for it, he came to the conclusion that it was more of a greeny-blue than a bluey-green and filed it under blue.
A clear thump came from Merlin’s room, followed by a scuffling noise. There was a possibility that the other young man had tripped over his own clothes and broken his neck, but he discarded that as unlikely and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, imagining he could see the sky through it. He was beginning to think that maybe he was just mad, or dreaming, when there was another thump from Merlin only this time there was silence afterwards.
He stood up, without even thinking about it. Even saving Merlin from malicious articles of clothing was more interesting than sitting staring at a line of bottles. He walked up the stairs; doubly careful of where he was putting his feet as he remembered that they were not really his and he could not quite trust them fully to be where he thought they were.
He didn’t bother to knock, but the squeak of the door clearly alerted Merlin to his presence. There was a loud rustling sound and, by the time he opened his door he found Merlin, standing staring at him with contrived innocence. At his feet was a small pile of clothing. Less than he had seen before.
“I see you didn’t take my advice about the cupboard then,” Arthur commented, wondering what Merlin had been doing in here that required that much time and that much of an ‘I’m-not-doing-anything’ face.
“I tried… it’s just, after a few days everything sort of got… out of hand again.” Merlin shrugged helplessly, still looking as though he had been caught stealing Arthur’s belongings.
“What were you doing up here anyway?” he asked, looking around. Unless Merlin had been deliberately messing the room up, he could not see what he could possibly have been messing around with.
“Nothing important. I was just looking for something that might help us.” Lie, Arthur’s brain told him immediately.
“What? I’ll help you look.” He did not relish going through the rubbish tip that Merlin liked to call his room, but anything for a solution to the problem. The words were barely out of his mouth when Merlin was pushing him out of the room with assurances that everything was fine and it wouldn’t take him a second and there was no point in Arthur even trying to find it… really, it was okay, he could do it himself.
The door closed in his face abruptly and Arthur found himself once again at a loose end.
He knocked on the door.
“Merlin?”
“I’ll be right with you.”
“I’ve heard that before.” He muttered to himself and crouched down to sit on the top step. He settled himself against the wall, preparing for a lengthy wait.
He was pleasantly surprised when it was only a few minutes later, after a lengthy period of quiet that Merlin stuck his head out of his door and looked down at him, blinking in surprise.
“It wor- it really is you.” He said in shock, and Arthur just stared back at him in confusion.
***
Merlin had seen the spell in the book a few weeks ago, but he had never intended to use it. To see the truth was written in heavy lettering at the top of the page and underneath a description of its effects: to pierce through glamours and enchantments and see things as they really are. There was a warning at the bottom, as usual, explaining that it often worked in strange and unexpected ways and that the effects were very similar to having taken wormwood, or some other hallucinogen.
However, it did seem the best bet at finding out if Arthur was really Arthur… or whether the man sitting outside his door was really the Prince. He had watched his mannerisms carefully since he had been told of the possible situation, and he had to agree that either the person in the other room was the Prince, or he had been studying very closely. Of course, the man he had been working for most of the morning, the one who looked like Arthur, had not been acting very Arthur like. But he knew that there were spells to confuse people, or maybe the man claiming to be Arthur had just been lucky enough to come on a day when the Prince was being particularly obnoxious.
It didn’t really matter in the end. He was going to do the spell and then he would know one way or the other.
He kept his voice low as he muttered the words of the spell. It wouldn’t do to have Arthur, or whoever it was outside hear him perform magic. Since Edwin had tried to kill the King the entire city had been on high alert for signs of magic. As for Merlin himself, he felt like an idiot, having trusted the man and then having seen what he had done - having killed him for it - he had been warier than ever of his magic.
He recited the words several times using different intonations and emphasis, but nothing in the room seemed to change, nor did his perspective of things.
After about fifteen more tries, he remembered that if that was Arthur outside, he was unlikely to sit and stare at the walls forever. He could either come in only to find Merlin practising magic, which would lead to awkward questions and possible death, or leave the house and then be at risk from whoever had done this.
Even if it was not Arthur, he did not want them to walk in or leave, so, with a sigh, he flipped the book shut and hauled himself back to his feet. It seemed as though he would just have to work this all out the hard way.
He jerked open the door a little and stuck his head through the crack and, as he did so, his breath caught in his throat.
Sitting on the top step of the stairs to his room was Arthur Pendragon.
He glanced down into the main room, there didn’t seem to be anyone else there… certainly not the red haired stranger from earlier. That meant, well.
Arthur turned to him and there was a strange glow about his features, although he was sitting in by far the darkest part of the building, and as he turned he appeared to blur a little at the edges.
“It wor-” He started, staring into Arthur’s face, only to cut himself off quickly. “It really is you.” He corrected, hoping that the Prince had not caught on to the slip up, although how exactly he was going to sort this mess out without revealing that he was a warlock was anyone’s guess.
He smiled weakly. This was not going to turn out well.
“You believe me?” Arthur asked, and it was a relief to see the look of puzzlement creasing the familiar forehead again. Merlin grinned in triumph. The conversations with the Arthur from earlier, before he had looked like Arthur, had been unnerving because the mannerisms had jarred against the body, now they were back in synch again and it was a little like he had just been cured of a headache.
“Uh, yes…” he said, wondering how he was going to play this. There was no way he could tell the truth, naturally, so he was left with an impossible situation. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he had quite a lot of experience at dealing with impossible situations in Camelot.
“Why?” Typically, Arthur had to look a gift horse in the mouth. Couldn’t he just have accepted that his arguments and actions had been so convincing that Merlin believed him?
“I…” Merlin took a deep breath and wished for some of the luck that seemed to follow him around to find its way to him at that particular moment. “I can see you as you…”
“How?” Arthur asked, climbing to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Merlin said, the words coming to his mouth quickly but uncertainly. “I just came out now and I saw you looking like you again.” Arthur looked taken aback before running down the stairs and searching through Gaius’ things. “What are you looking for?”
“A mirror… if it’s worn off then I want to see it with my own eyes.” Merlin winced. He had not even thought of that, somewhere inside his head a voice that sounded like Gaius told him that it was important to think magic all the way through before testing it.
“I don’t think…” he began, but by that time Arthur had found the mirror and was glaring at it harshly.
“It’s not over,” he said bitterly, setting down the glass on the table and slumping forward, bracing himself against the table with his hands. There was a second in which Merlin had a chance to hope that Arthur would not ask, but the hope was futile. “How come you can see through it, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know…” Merlin said, searching his head desperately for an answer. “Maybe because I knew it was you?” It sounded pleading and desperate even to him and he swallowed as Arthur gave him a searching look. His heart was pounding in his chest, and with each beat Merlin was certain Arthur was going to turn on him. But somehow, with his pulse echoing in his ears, he managed to return the Prince’s stare glance for glance, hoping his nerves did not show on his face.
“Perhaps,” Arthur said with a sigh after a second and Merlin breathed easily again. The air no longer stuck in his throat and he closed his eyes in relief. “But that doesn’t really help us does it?”
“Not really, no.” Merlin admitted.
“Fine…” Arthur straightened himself up, once again, every bit the Prince and commander of the Knights as he surveyed the room. He crossed his arms over his chest again and nodded to himself. He was not staring at the walls, however, Merlin could tell. He was working something through in his own head. It was the same look he got when fighting a duel, or preparing for one, and Merlin knew - after several times of being yelled at, and one of being almost bodily thrown out of the way - that it was best not to interrupt him.
“We need a plan,” the Prince said, so decisively that Merlin almost laughed. He barely managed to contain a mocking comment about stating the obvious. “This is obviously some kind of magic.” Merlin nodded, knowing that that was where the problem lay. Similarly to the Gryphon and Edwin’s beetles he had a terrible suspicion that this was going to be one of those magical problems that only magic could solve, and there was no way the Prince was going to accept this as some miracle of combat or medicine. “So, in order to stop it, we have to find out what caused it… like the plague and the poison.” Merlin nodded his agreement, not that Arthur was paying much attention. “And in order to do that we need…”
“Gaius,” supplied Merlin, immediately, falling back on what he knew. He personally had no idea where to start looking for the answer to this. From what he knew there was nothing in the book about body switching. There was a spell to create a glamour but this seemed a little beyond that… The way the image of Arthur seemed to be somehow separate from the rest of the room made him think that the transformation was more physical than mere perception. Surely, if it had only been a glamour he would be seeing Arthur normally.
“Right,” Arthur agreed, “if he believes that I’m me…” he cursed at the idea of having to go through the whole rigmarole of proving himself again.
“He’ll believe me,” Merlin said, certainly. Arthur looked over at him, and there was another moment of silent scrutiny in which Merlin resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably. But then Arthur smiled, just a tiny smile, unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t spend most of their life monitoring him because of destiny, but it was still there. Merlin smiled back, still a little uncomfortable, albeit for a different reason. There was a level of intimacy about this - being the only one to know who Arthur was - that was all a part of that shared smile.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, and the words disappeared as quickly as they could, as though they were rushing out of his mouth in shame, but they were still there in Merlin’s mind, a little reminder for when this was all over (which it would be, he would make sure of that) that Arthur had actually appreciated his help.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and was about to say more when the door opened and Gaius walked in.
***
It was not unusual for strangers and townspeople to show up randomly in the house of the court physician. It was one of the reasons Gaius tried to give Merlin such strict guidelines about his use of magic. So the physician took a moment to realise that something was out of the ordinary. He nodded to the stranger and told him that he would be with him in a minute before turning to Merlin to mention his errands for the afternoon and ask him why he had been fired this time.
It was in Merlin’s expression that he first realised that there was something wrong. Merlin could see the gears working behind his eyes while he opened his mouth to explain that maybe he would not be able to do those chores just yet.
The young warlock shot a look at Arthur, who was waiting impatiently to be noticed and giving him a look that he knew meant what are you waiting for? He ignored him and looked back at Gaius, knowing that the physician could tell by the size of his grimace just how bad the situation was.
Finally Gaius turned to look at Arthur, and Merlin had to remind himself that his friend and mentor just saw the Prince as a stranger.
“Perhaps you had better tell me what’s going on,” he said with a sigh of longsuffering and a raised eyebrow that made Merlin feel as though he were five years old again, explaining to his mother that he had not meant to move the chair away from the table, it had just happened.
“Ri-ight...” He glanced at Arthur who shook his head in amusement. There was going to be no help from his quarter.
***
All in all, Gaius took it very well. It didn’t even take him half a minute after the words ‘that’s Arthur’ came tumbling out of Merlin’s lips in a very confused and hurried run through of the situation before he was calling the young unknown man ‘sire’ as though he always had. It was almost as though situations like these were common place. He trusted Merlin’s word with barely even a question, just an ‘are you sure?’ and then it had all been quite straight forward.
“Can you see me?” Arthur asked after Merlin had finished going back and adding in the parts that he had forgotten. Gaius shook his head.
“Sorry, sire. I only see what the spell allows me to see,” Arthur nodded in understanding before giving Merlin a pensive look. His manservant was trying to look innocent again and, if they ever got through this, he was going to have a word with him about that because there was nothing more suspicious than someone trying to look innocent. No wonder Merlin ended up in the stocks every time he tried to lie to Arthur’s father.
“That’s strange,” he said, watching with vague amusement as Merlin’s face went a little whiter and his nervous smile a little wider. “Merlin thought the reason he could see me was because he knew it was me. You don’t seem to have any problem believing that, so why can he see me while you can’t?” He did not miss the quick glance that Gaius shot Merlin’s direction, nor the sheepish smile Merlin returned it with.
“I have no idea, sire. Perhaps the spell’s hold over Merlin was not as powerful as it is over me.” Arthur nodded, but filed the piece of information away under ‘odd things to do with Merlin’ in his brain; it was a long list.
“So… do you have any idea how we can reverse it?” Arthur asked and it was Gaius’ turn to look cautious and more than a little worried.
“I will research the matter, sire,” he said slowly, giving Merlin a side-long glance. “Much magic relies on a totem or image to be the focus. Perhaps, if it is something like that, then simply destroying the focus would end the enchantment.”
Arthur chose to ignore the man’s knowledge of magic: it came in useful, after all, and there was no doubt in his mind that his father would know if Gaius were a sorcerer. The physician had probably merely researched the subject at his father’s request, after all one could not fight against magic without at least understanding it. That was one of the contradictions of the law that Arthur was being brought up against again and again recently. He was aware, in a small part of his brain that, sometimes, just sometimes, the only way to counter magic was magic.
He remembered the ball of light, floating above him in the cave as he reached out for the mortaeus flower and the spiders beneath him scurried upwards. He had felt no fear there (not that he was supposed to feel fear anywhere). The light had not been aggressive nor had it been unpleasant. It had been a guide light and an encouragement, urging him upwards although he had thought he would not make it.
Sometimes magic was good, he allowed himself to think as quietly as he could in the deepest recesses of his brain. Sometimes it was necessary.
He had a sinking feeling, as Gaius avoided his gaze and Merlin frowned with worry across the table from him, that this was one of those times. Gaius’ words about a totem made sense, but there was something more, something that was not being said around this table and he wanted to know what it was.
“Sire,” Gaius said to him, with as much respect as he ever had. It was a comfort to have that respect. While Merlin’s casual disregard for his status was normal, there was something about the physician’s acceptance of him as a Prince that was deeply reassuring. He had not even realised that he had been questioning his identity until Gaius had reaffirmed it. He smiled gratefully at the man, wondering if he realised what that simple form of address meant to him. “I need to speak to Merlin for a moment, would you excuse us?” Arthur nodded, and watched as Gaius and Merlin disappeared up into Merlin’s room, wondering if this was going to be the drill every time someone new found out about the problem.
***
Arthur had managed to flick through several books of virulent diseases by the time Gaius and Merlin returned, looking a lot less comfortable than when they had gone up there. There were, he had noted with astonishment and disgust, even some etchings of the problems in some of them. He was fairly certain that the artist had been exaggerating in some cases because that last thing he had looked at… could not be possible.
“Sire…” Gaius said, Merlin lurking behind his left elbow. Arthur wondered if Merlin would spend his entire life standing two steps behind someone with that awkward look of being out of place, before refocusing on Gaius’ words. “I feel it would be best if, for now, you were to remain here.”
“We have to tell my father…” Arthur protested, although he knew what a bad idea that was. The idea of someone being that close to the King, however, and being privy to all of the court intrigue, strategy and private information that were his day to day life made his blood run cold, though. If this person had it in for Camelot as well as for him then there was little they could not do with the power at their disposal. The entire kingdom was at risk.
“I don’t know that we can, sire.” Gaius said deeply. “The only evidence we have is Merlin’s word and your own. If you were missing then perhaps we would have had a chance, but as it is.”
“We’re stuck.” Arthur said bleakly. “I’m stuck.” He had known that would be the answer before he had even brought it up. What could they do: A physician with no illness to cure, a manservant unable to follow orders and a Prince with no power? It was hopeless from the beginning. He set his shoulders anyway because, no matter what body he was in, he was not going to be defeated by some Sorcerer who felt he needed a makeover. “Well, we’re just going to have to find a way to unstuck me, aren’t we?” Gaius nodded deeply, almost a bow, as Merlin smiled in relief.
“Your father may spot that there is something… odd about the Arthur currently in the palace,” Gaius continued, and Arthur resisted the urge to laugh in his face. His father would merely decide that he needed to work harder and order him out on another patrol. Uther was constantly watching him, but he never really took the time to look. He loved his father, unconditionally, but he knew the man’s flaws.
“I don’t think we should depend upon that,” he said casually, “He had an entire conversation with Morgana this morning and she didn’t realise a thing.”
“But if he’s been planning this for a while, surely the other Arthur should know enough to fool people.” Merlin said, looking at Gaius with evident confusion.
“Yes,” the older man said, nodding, “one would assume that he had done some research.”
“Precisely,” Merlin said, “that’s what I mean. But this guy - the other Arthur - he didn’t seem to know those things. He couldn’t remember the way to his rooms, and you’d imagine that that would be something he would make sure to remember. He didn’t know my name, either,” he said looking into the middle distance as though remembering, “Until Morgana said it.” Arthur waited for him to get to the point, but he merely broke off.
“What are you getting at?” he asked.
“I don’t think he was expecting this,” Merlin said, which made no sense to Arthur at all. “I think maybe he was like Arthur - just woke up today with a different body.”
“Then why take over my life?”
“Sorcery is an offence punishable by execution,” Merlin reminded him, as though he needed reminding. “Perhaps he was afraid of being sentenced.” Arthur shook his head.
“Still, Merlin…” said Gaius, clearly just as confused by the facts as Arthur himself was. “Magic like this would take time and planning. Probably some personal effect or hair from the people involved.” He cast a slight glance at Arthur, who was pretending that he was not hearing any of this because there were limits to what Gaius should know off the top of his head. “I find it difficult to believe that he could not have planned for this eventuality.”
“Unless he isn’t the one who cast the spell…” Merlin said, a hint of a triumphant smile brushing his lips. Arthur found himself smirking a little at that too: Merlin always looked so pleased with himself when he found the solution to something, whether it was the easiest way to carry his armour or the best way to irritate him during a banquet.
Gaius looked at Merlin curiously before nodding to himself.
“You might be right.” He said with dawning comprehension. “If this is as powerful as I think it might be then the person who did this would probably already be known. There are few capable of such magic.”
“Nimueh,” Merlin breathed, and Arthur had a memory of blue eyes watching him as he killed a cockatrice and a cruel smile as the ground fell away beneath him.
“Nimueh?” Arthur asked and Gaius turned with a start. It was almost as though he had forgotten his presence. His face looked a little panicked and Arthur realised that he thought he had said too much. “Who’s she?”
“A powerful sorceress, sire,” Gaius informed him, covering his lapse of control with a slight cough. “She is known to hate Camelot.”
“How does Merlin know about her?” he asked.
“She sent the plague,” Merlin said quickly, “she controlled the avanc. I was with Gaius when he worked it out.” The Prince could tell from the looks exchanged between the pair of them that there was more to the story than that, but he let it go. They were currently his only hope, as much as it pained him to admit it. He nodded, vowing that one day he’d work out what was going on, Uther, Gaius and Merlin be damned - and Nimueh too for that matter.
“Fine… If it is this Nimueh, what do we do?” he asked. Gaius and Merlin shared a look which he could not quite understand.
“We find the totem and focus of the spell,” Gaius told him, “and destroy it.”
“And what about Nimueh?” Arthur asked, probing further into this mystery.
“Nimueh is a very powerful sorceress, sire,” the physician said, although he was looking more directly at Merlin as he spoke the words. It was almost as if he were having two separate conversations that happened to be using the same words. “To go up against her unprepared would be nigh on suicide.” He nodded, although across from him Merlin was looking more thoughtful than worried.
“But surely she’ll have the totem on her…” Merlin said slowly.
“I fear that is likely.”
“Then we’ll have to fight her,” Arthur said, standing up. Merlin followed him to his feet.
“Arthur!” Gaius reprimanded him in a tone he had never heard from his father, he was too shocked to even comment on the lack of title. He looked over as the physician stood up too. “We do not even know where to look for her, yet. You know as well as anyone that strategy is paramount in cases like these.” Arthur sagged visibly under Gaius’ understanding gaze and set himself back down into the chair. “Merlin.”
Arthur looked up to see Merlin was still standing up, looking vaguely guilty as Gaius turned to him.
“I was just…stretching my legs?” Arthur levelled a hard glance at him, aware that Gaius was no doubt backing it up with one of his own. “Fine… fine,” he sat down too and concentrated on the grain of the wooden table. “So, we need to find out where she is so that we can find the totem…” he paused, looking between them both. “How do we do that?” Arthur shrugged but then found that two pairs of eyes were turned on him.
“What?”
“Sire, can you recall what happened in the days running up to this incident. Was there anything strange or unusual about them? Did you meet anyone or insult anyone?” From anyone else the question would have come across rude, but Gaius somehow managed to pull it off without straying out of the boundaries of pure concern. That did not make Arthur much happier though.
“Why should I have done?” he asked, “you said it yourself that Nimueh has it in for Camelot. She probably just took someone off the street and switched us… I’m a Prince; anyone would want to be me.” It was not arrogance, well, not really; it was pure fact. Merlin was smirking though.
“Yeah, but people who had met you are far more likely to want to kill you,” the other young man said. The Prince shot him an acid glare that, no doubt would have worked even less well had Merlin still seen him as the strange red-haired peasant. As it was it just made his grin grow to face-splitting proportions. “What? It’s just a statement of fact.” Arthur kept the glare up a little longer until Gaius cleared his throat, breaking the stalemate.
“Merlin has a point, your highness,” he said, again somehow missing insulting. “If there is anyone with a grudge against you then-”
“Try half the kingdom,” Arthur said, interrupting the older man. “And most people outside it.” He shrugged casually. Most of his life had been spent with the threat of assassination hanging over his head. He was the only heir to the kingdom, get rid of him and there would be little or no Camelot to worry about.
“Please, sire,” Gaius was speaking in the limitlessly reasonable tone that he had always used when Arthur was younger and had slipped away from his tutors or guards to ask an unending list of questions about everything from why the sky was blue to what death was like. He imagined that the old physician must use the tone constantly with Merlin around and smiled slightly at the thought. “Any information you could give us could help with locating Nimueh, or at least finding out who you are.” He paused, “I only hope that there is no one looking for whoever it is that you currently look like. If there is then we will be in an awful lot of trouble.”
Arthur had not thought of that. Whoever had switched places with him would no doubt have family, friends or, at the very least, enemies looking for them. It made more sense than he would have liked for the person to be on the run from someone or something. What better way to evade pursuers than to cease to be yourself. The idea had clearly occurred to Gaius as well, although Merlin looked a little perplexed.
“You haven’t heard of anyone searching for someone matching my description, have you?” Arthur asked, managing to keep the unwieldy new voice under tight control. Gaius shook his head.
“No, sire. I will keep my ears and eyes open however.”
“Thank you.”
“Why would anyone be looking for you?” Merlin asked, still confused. “You’re not the Prince any more, the only person who might be looking for you is Nimueh, and I doubt she’d come up to you in the street.” He paused, “It’s not really her style.”
“What is her style?” Arthur asked, looking at him with interest. Merlin opened his mouth but then glanced sideways at Gaius and closed it again, shrugging. He tilted one eyebrow up and crossed his arms deliberately, staring at his manservant long and hard.
“Oh...” Merlin said with a nervous grin. “You know - more subtle than that. Like this.” He waved his hands around vaguely in general indication of their situation and Arthur knew that he would have to be content with that for now, at least until Gaius had gone.
***
The three of them worked through every single detail of the last three days, with Merlin writing down everyone who could possibly have had a motive to swap with him. Arthur felt that the list was a little longer than necessary (one hundred names and still going strong) but Merlin seemed to be deliberately putting on anyone he had spoken to at all. There was even the person who had accidentally dropped something onto his foot the day before.
“I hardly think he needs to be on there, Merlin,” the Prince commented, looking over the other man’s shoulder, pausing for a moment in his pacing. “And who’s Aidan?” he asked curiously.
“The stable hand who saddled the wrong horse two days ago,” Merlin said. Arthur looked at him blankly. “The one you threatened to have pelted with horse dung in the stocks?” Arthur shook his head, he was still nonplussed. “The one who called you ‘your royal pratness’ as he walked away.”
“Oh… with the funny eye?” Arthur gestured to the right hand side of his face.
“It’s his left eye, and there’s nothing really wrong with it,” Merlin told him shaking his head.
“And who’s… Merlin?” Arthur stopped and stared at the page as he came across a familiar name.
“Who am I?” Merlin asked looking up at him with amused disbelief. “I know I’m only a servant, sire, but I would have thought you’d have worked that out by now. I’m you manservant… I saved your life, remember? I rescued you from eloping with the first pretty-”
“That’s not what I meant, Merlin.” The Prince told him, trying not to smile. “And I thought we agreed not to talk about that… ever again.”
“I only agreed in so much as I won’t bring it up often,” Merlin corrected, still grinning inanely, although Arthur could not quite seem to get annoyed with the man. “What did you mean then?”
“Why is your name on the list?” he asked, bringing his finger down firmly on the offending word. He paused, glancing further down. “Why is it on there more than once?”
“It’s a list of people you’ve insulted, Arthur,” Merlin pointed out. “I thought that I should probably make that list more than once, seeing as we didn’t order it by whom you’ve insulted the most.”
“I haven’t insulted you.” Arthur protested.
“You’ve called me an idiot at least twelve times,” Merlin began, speaking as though Arthur were the idiot. “You told me that you didn’t understand how I could stand upright given how I have no sense of balance.”
“Those weren’t insults: they were facts.”
“You threw your boot at me…”
“I tossed it at you - you were supposed to catch.” Arthur told him, defending himself and shifting uncomfortably.
“Strangely enough - I can’t catch with my head,” Merlin replied, although his words lacked any rebuke, he seemed more amused by the situation than anything. “And you spent half of the morning the day before yesterday telling me that the only real use I had was as a measure of how well your day was going to go - depending on how much I spoke. Obviously because the more I spoke, the worse it was going to get. Although you did have an interesting theory about how maybe, if I talked a lot, then the day could only get better because even fighting an enraged Gryphon was more enjoyable than listening to me rabbit on,” Merlin went on. He laughed as Arthur straightened himself up and tried to look dignified while addressing the allegations.
“Well you do talk a lot, and I was already having a bad day before you come in. Some idiot woke me up before dawn while they were trying to light my fire.” Arthur was fairly certain that he was pouting now, and that did not sit at all well with him, especially when he was also fairly certain that Merlin had noticed and was laughing at him.
“There were other things as well,” Merlin said with a shrug, “but if I listed all of them then we’d probably be here all day. In fact,” he paused, and Arthur waited for whatever sparkle of so called wit he was about to impart. You could always tell when Merlin was going to try and be funny - there was a look in his eye, and his smile became slightly crooked. “I think we might have solved it.”
“You do?” He asked patiently. If he didn’t let the idiot have this, he would no doubt be unbearable for the entire day and Merlin was the only person who could see him as him.
“Yes… It must be me. Clearly I have the largest motive; I must be the one who swapped bodies with you. Quick, clap me in irons; send me down to the cells.” Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin held up his hands in fake surrender. “It’s been a while since I’ve been down there. I’m almost missing the place.”
“Shut up, Merlin.”
“Yes, Arthur.” The joke finished, Merlin turned back to the list as Arthur returned to his pacing.
“Oh… and cross your name off.” The other did so with a chuckle, and then continued to write as Arthur resumed his pacing, still attempting to remember some small detail.
“It is more likely that Nimueh would be able to contact someone in a village than in the castle.” Gaius said from his work bench, where he was fiddling with the intricacies of some concoction or other. Merlin looked up thoughtfully from his list.
“And that would explain what Morgana said about Gwen seeing you… the other you walking into the castle this morning,” the Prince’s manservant (ex-manservant?) said. This was news to Arthur and he said as much. “Oh, she mentioned it while we were talking on the balcony.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Arthur asked incredulously.
“I forgot about it until just now.”
“You forgot that someone saw ‘me’ wandering in at some point in the morning, when you knew I wasn’t me and knew that we needed to find out where the imposter came from?”
“Calm down,” Merlin said. “I remembered now, didn’t I?”
“And if you’d remembered a couple of hours ago then we wouldn’t have had to waste that time listing every single person I looked at funny, would we? We might even have solved this by now.” Arthur continued, glaring at his manservant as effectively as he could but the looks, which had been fairly ineffectual when Merlin had first arrived, had become completely useless through familiarity. He cursed mentally.
“Actually - we’re still going through people you threatened to have put in jail,” Merlin corrected, looking down at the list, “people you looked at funny weren’t coming until after we’d got through people you called idiots.”
“Well maybe you should put yourself back on the list then!”
“What’s done is done,” Gaius interrupted, stepping forward with a vial of liquid. “Now that we do know, we can address our search to those further afield. Merlin?” He handed the vial over. “Could you take this to Morgana, please? I fear she may have run out.”
“Of course.” Arthur looked between them and caught the significant look again, the one that spoke volumes in a language he could not understand. Apparently now Morgana was involved in their secrets as well.
“Is that for her nightmares?” he asked and Merlin turned round with his usual look of guilt.
“Uh, yes.”
“I’m afraid I’ve had to prescribe something stronger recently sire.” Gaius told him, smoothly covering up Merlin’s startled expression, or he would have done had Arthur not been looking out for it. “The poor girl is still troubled.” Arthur nodded and Merlin took that as an indication that he should leave, hurrying out of the room.
He watched the door swing shut behind him and was reminded of Morgana looking at him with concern, telling him that she had a feeling and there had been a dream and then him laughing at her. This was all starting to get a little confusing. No, in fact it had started a little confusing, with Merlin moving faster than anyone should really be able to (and definitely faster than Merlin because he’s seen him run) to pull him out of the way of a knife and then it had just kept on going down a path of bizarre and weird, picking up momentum as it went. He mused on the implications for a moment before turning back to Gaius who was regarding him with an almost paternal air.
“Are you okay, your highness?” the elderly physician asked and Arthur nodded tightly. Insanity seemed to be stalking him like a wolf with very bad breath, but there was no way he would ever admit that to someone.
“I’m fine. This situation is just…”
“Difficult,” Gaius agreed. “I know, sire. But we will get to the bottom of this.” The ‘I hope’ was not spoken aloud, but both could hear it clearly in their minds.
“We have to, or I fear what will happen to Camelot.”
“I know, Arthur.” The Prince looked away, breaking their eye contact abruptly. There was too much understanding in that gaze as they stared at each other. Sometimes it was like Gaius knew him too well. He had grown up seeing Gaius as an all knowing person, much like his father, but while that image of the King was tarnishing slightly, Gaius still, at some points, seemed omniscient to him.
“How about you go through the list and cross out any of the people who live in the castle,” Gaius suggested. Arthur nodded, neglecting to mention that he probably had no idea who half the people Merlin had noted down were, but he went back to his studies quickly.
After a few minutes of staring at names and trying to put them to faces he looked up again.
“This is ridiculous,” he said realisation dawning. “Of course it isn’t any of these people…” he looked up at the Physician and caught him watching him, inquiringly. “If he’s wearing my body then it makes sense that I would be wearing his.” He looked down at the page. “All I have to do is work out who I look like and we’ll have the answer.” Gaius looked at him as though he were a genius, not a look he was accustomed to from anyone outside of the duelling ring.
“You’re right.”
“I know,” Arthur said as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.
“So…” Gaius peered at him curiously, examining every inch of his features and Arthur tilted his face up slightly to give him a better view.
They sat in silence like that for a minute or so: Arthur trying to shift uncomfortably in a way that Gaius wouldn’t notice, a muscle in his cheek twitching under the scrutiny and Gaius’ intent observation.
“I’m sorry, sire,” Gaius told him with a sigh, and Arthur finally allowed himself to move. “I don’t recognise you at all.”
“Nor did Merlin,” Arthur added, “before he could see I was me, I mean.” Gaius nodded, although he had that look of disapproval again, the one Arthur was always glad was not fixed on him. Merlin being able to see him properly was clearly a point about which Gaius was not best pleased.
“Quite,” the older man said, turning away.
“Strange that…” Arthur continued, not really knowing why, but picking up on something off about the whole situation, “how he can see me and no one else can…”
“Magic is a complex thing, sire,” Gaius told him, sounding, now, unconcerned by the matter, as though he had not been irritated by it mere seconds ago. “No doubt the spell was somehow incomplete or the intention behind it did not spread as far as the caster had hoped.”
“I thought you said that Nimueh was powerful - surely someone who had been practising magic for years would not make a mistake like that…” Arthur went on. Gaius had his back to him now and was proceeding to gather together some ointments and other medicines into his bag.
“The more experienced we are, the more overconfident we become,” he said wearily. “In some ways those who are better and more accomplished at things are more likely to overlook the smaller details… I find myself having to recheck my own work over again to make certain that I haven’t missed anything out because I have assumed I already put it in.”
“That makes sense… like in duelling, when you think your opponent’s an easy mark and you drop your guard.”
“Precisely.” Gaius turned to him and smiled slightly before crossing over to the door. “I have to go and see to some of my other patients. I think it would probably be wise if you were not to leave these chambers. No doubt Merlin will be back shortly.”
“Yes… I think I’ll stay here,” Arthur settled himself down on a stool. “It’s not like there’s anything else for me to do.” He watched as Gaius left, feeling more than a little confused.
***
On to Chapter 5
-
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: G/PG
Wordcount: This part: 8070, Overall ~44000
Pairing/Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Percival (OC)
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, nor any of the characters. The version of Arthurian legend this was inspired by/based on belongs to the Beeb.
Warnings: Vague corruption of Arthurian Legend
Spoilers: Up to the Gates of Avalon
Author’s Note: Many thanks to wrennette for the beta work. A lo-ong chapter to make up for last time. Also:
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!
Summary: In this part: Merlin works out how to discover the truth and is almost caught in a dangerous position and with a little help from Gaius, they start looking for a way to get everything back to normal, but things are never simple.
Previous Chapters: 1| 2| 3|
From the moment he walked into the building, Arthur was confused. He had been inside Gaius’ house many times over the years but it was as though the world had been shifted slightly out of balance. It took him a few seconds to realise what it was. Everything was a few centimetres higher than usual. The table came too high on his leg, his eyesight was level with the wrong things and everything was… larger. Or, rather, he was smaller. He huffed under his breath at the inconvenience of the realisation.
He had not noticed it in the castle, though, presumably because everything was so much bigger there that the slight difference had been negligible, not to mention the fact that he had not really been paying attention. For some reason he had been more focussed on himself than his surroundings. He slumped into Gaius’ chair in as elegant a manner as he could manage in his current state, glaring at Merlin as he smothered a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asked tersely and Merlin’s pursed lips grew into a grin.
“It’s just… you look like you and you don’t look like you,” he commented cryptically and Arthur sighed in exasperation, looking out through the window and trying to pretend that the fact that Merlin seemed to be acknowledging him as himself was not making him overwhelmingly relieved. He must not have been able to cover it up particularly well - he blamed the new face which was a lot clumsier and more difficult to control than his old one - because Merlin was giving him the look that meant his manservant was attempting to be sympathetic. That never ended well - usually with one or other of them almost getting killed in his experience.
“Fine… now, can we talk about what we’re going to do about this?” he asked, trying to get the grin off his manservant’s face. It was highly irritating to be at his mercy. While his earlier ploy had failed miserably, this one worked like a charm. The grin fell from Merlin’s face and was replaced with a wary, almost guilty expression. The man’s blue eyes kept darting to the door and then back to Arthur, almost as though he was afraid.
“Yeah, of course…” he said, and Arthur smirked slightly with amusement as the words stumbled out of his mouth. “Right.” There was a sudden and complete change as Merlin straightened up, and seemingly gained a good few inches of height. His posture was confident and in control, although his eyes were still nervous, like his smile.
“You…” he looked around the room before hold his hands out, palms extended towards Arthur as though he were some kind of wild animal. Rolling his eyes, the Prince leaned back and made to put his foot up on the table, only to realise he had misjudged the distance. Where his own heels would have just rested on the edge, the new legs simply fell through thin air, leaving him blushing in embarrassment (and that was another thing - blushing: he could feel the heat coursing across his face) and Merlin looking as though he was about to explode from suppressed laughter.
“Just stay right there… and,” the mocking grin was back, to Arthur’s annoyance, although he found its familiarity more than a little relaxing, “try not to hurt yourself, okay?” He glared at Merlin, but found himself glaring at the back of his head as he disappeared up into his room.
He let out a long breath and stared idly around at the room. It was small and dull and wooden, and that was all there really was to it. He counted the bottles of strange ointments, liniments and medicines that stood on the shelf opposite, then he counted how many of them were green, then how many were blue.
There was a strange one in the middle that was midway between and he was not sure how to classify. In the end, after a deliberation about whether to count it in both categories or create its own special section, just for it, he came to the conclusion that it was more of a greeny-blue than a bluey-green and filed it under blue.
A clear thump came from Merlin’s room, followed by a scuffling noise. There was a possibility that the other young man had tripped over his own clothes and broken his neck, but he discarded that as unlikely and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling, imagining he could see the sky through it. He was beginning to think that maybe he was just mad, or dreaming, when there was another thump from Merlin only this time there was silence afterwards.
He stood up, without even thinking about it. Even saving Merlin from malicious articles of clothing was more interesting than sitting staring at a line of bottles. He walked up the stairs; doubly careful of where he was putting his feet as he remembered that they were not really his and he could not quite trust them fully to be where he thought they were.
He didn’t bother to knock, but the squeak of the door clearly alerted Merlin to his presence. There was a loud rustling sound and, by the time he opened his door he found Merlin, standing staring at him with contrived innocence. At his feet was a small pile of clothing. Less than he had seen before.
“I see you didn’t take my advice about the cupboard then,” Arthur commented, wondering what Merlin had been doing in here that required that much time and that much of an ‘I’m-not-doing-anything’ face.
“I tried… it’s just, after a few days everything sort of got… out of hand again.” Merlin shrugged helplessly, still looking as though he had been caught stealing Arthur’s belongings.
“What were you doing up here anyway?” he asked, looking around. Unless Merlin had been deliberately messing the room up, he could not see what he could possibly have been messing around with.
“Nothing important. I was just looking for something that might help us.” Lie, Arthur’s brain told him immediately.
“What? I’ll help you look.” He did not relish going through the rubbish tip that Merlin liked to call his room, but anything for a solution to the problem. The words were barely out of his mouth when Merlin was pushing him out of the room with assurances that everything was fine and it wouldn’t take him a second and there was no point in Arthur even trying to find it… really, it was okay, he could do it himself.
The door closed in his face abruptly and Arthur found himself once again at a loose end.
He knocked on the door.
“Merlin?”
“I’ll be right with you.”
“I’ve heard that before.” He muttered to himself and crouched down to sit on the top step. He settled himself against the wall, preparing for a lengthy wait.
He was pleasantly surprised when it was only a few minutes later, after a lengthy period of quiet that Merlin stuck his head out of his door and looked down at him, blinking in surprise.
“It wor- it really is you.” He said in shock, and Arthur just stared back at him in confusion.
***
Merlin had seen the spell in the book a few weeks ago, but he had never intended to use it. To see the truth was written in heavy lettering at the top of the page and underneath a description of its effects: to pierce through glamours and enchantments and see things as they really are. There was a warning at the bottom, as usual, explaining that it often worked in strange and unexpected ways and that the effects were very similar to having taken wormwood, or some other hallucinogen.
However, it did seem the best bet at finding out if Arthur was really Arthur… or whether the man sitting outside his door was really the Prince. He had watched his mannerisms carefully since he had been told of the possible situation, and he had to agree that either the person in the other room was the Prince, or he had been studying very closely. Of course, the man he had been working for most of the morning, the one who looked like Arthur, had not been acting very Arthur like. But he knew that there were spells to confuse people, or maybe the man claiming to be Arthur had just been lucky enough to come on a day when the Prince was being particularly obnoxious.
It didn’t really matter in the end. He was going to do the spell and then he would know one way or the other.
He kept his voice low as he muttered the words of the spell. It wouldn’t do to have Arthur, or whoever it was outside hear him perform magic. Since Edwin had tried to kill the King the entire city had been on high alert for signs of magic. As for Merlin himself, he felt like an idiot, having trusted the man and then having seen what he had done - having killed him for it - he had been warier than ever of his magic.
He recited the words several times using different intonations and emphasis, but nothing in the room seemed to change, nor did his perspective of things.
After about fifteen more tries, he remembered that if that was Arthur outside, he was unlikely to sit and stare at the walls forever. He could either come in only to find Merlin practising magic, which would lead to awkward questions and possible death, or leave the house and then be at risk from whoever had done this.
Even if it was not Arthur, he did not want them to walk in or leave, so, with a sigh, he flipped the book shut and hauled himself back to his feet. It seemed as though he would just have to work this all out the hard way.
He jerked open the door a little and stuck his head through the crack and, as he did so, his breath caught in his throat.
Sitting on the top step of the stairs to his room was Arthur Pendragon.
He glanced down into the main room, there didn’t seem to be anyone else there… certainly not the red haired stranger from earlier. That meant, well.
Arthur turned to him and there was a strange glow about his features, although he was sitting in by far the darkest part of the building, and as he turned he appeared to blur a little at the edges.
“It wor-” He started, staring into Arthur’s face, only to cut himself off quickly. “It really is you.” He corrected, hoping that the Prince had not caught on to the slip up, although how exactly he was going to sort this mess out without revealing that he was a warlock was anyone’s guess.
He smiled weakly. This was not going to turn out well.
“You believe me?” Arthur asked, and it was a relief to see the look of puzzlement creasing the familiar forehead again. Merlin grinned in triumph. The conversations with the Arthur from earlier, before he had looked like Arthur, had been unnerving because the mannerisms had jarred against the body, now they were back in synch again and it was a little like he had just been cured of a headache.
“Uh, yes…” he said, wondering how he was going to play this. There was no way he could tell the truth, naturally, so he was left with an impossible situation. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he had quite a lot of experience at dealing with impossible situations in Camelot.
“Why?” Typically, Arthur had to look a gift horse in the mouth. Couldn’t he just have accepted that his arguments and actions had been so convincing that Merlin believed him?
“I…” Merlin took a deep breath and wished for some of the luck that seemed to follow him around to find its way to him at that particular moment. “I can see you as you…”
“How?” Arthur asked, climbing to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Merlin said, the words coming to his mouth quickly but uncertainly. “I just came out now and I saw you looking like you again.” Arthur looked taken aback before running down the stairs and searching through Gaius’ things. “What are you looking for?”
“A mirror… if it’s worn off then I want to see it with my own eyes.” Merlin winced. He had not even thought of that, somewhere inside his head a voice that sounded like Gaius told him that it was important to think magic all the way through before testing it.
“I don’t think…” he began, but by that time Arthur had found the mirror and was glaring at it harshly.
“It’s not over,” he said bitterly, setting down the glass on the table and slumping forward, bracing himself against the table with his hands. There was a second in which Merlin had a chance to hope that Arthur would not ask, but the hope was futile. “How come you can see through it, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know…” Merlin said, searching his head desperately for an answer. “Maybe because I knew it was you?” It sounded pleading and desperate even to him and he swallowed as Arthur gave him a searching look. His heart was pounding in his chest, and with each beat Merlin was certain Arthur was going to turn on him. But somehow, with his pulse echoing in his ears, he managed to return the Prince’s stare glance for glance, hoping his nerves did not show on his face.
“Perhaps,” Arthur said with a sigh after a second and Merlin breathed easily again. The air no longer stuck in his throat and he closed his eyes in relief. “But that doesn’t really help us does it?”
“Not really, no.” Merlin admitted.
“Fine…” Arthur straightened himself up, once again, every bit the Prince and commander of the Knights as he surveyed the room. He crossed his arms over his chest again and nodded to himself. He was not staring at the walls, however, Merlin could tell. He was working something through in his own head. It was the same look he got when fighting a duel, or preparing for one, and Merlin knew - after several times of being yelled at, and one of being almost bodily thrown out of the way - that it was best not to interrupt him.
“We need a plan,” the Prince said, so decisively that Merlin almost laughed. He barely managed to contain a mocking comment about stating the obvious. “This is obviously some kind of magic.” Merlin nodded, knowing that that was where the problem lay. Similarly to the Gryphon and Edwin’s beetles he had a terrible suspicion that this was going to be one of those magical problems that only magic could solve, and there was no way the Prince was going to accept this as some miracle of combat or medicine. “So, in order to stop it, we have to find out what caused it… like the plague and the poison.” Merlin nodded his agreement, not that Arthur was paying much attention. “And in order to do that we need…”
“Gaius,” supplied Merlin, immediately, falling back on what he knew. He personally had no idea where to start looking for the answer to this. From what he knew there was nothing in the book about body switching. There was a spell to create a glamour but this seemed a little beyond that… The way the image of Arthur seemed to be somehow separate from the rest of the room made him think that the transformation was more physical than mere perception. Surely, if it had only been a glamour he would be seeing Arthur normally.
“Right,” Arthur agreed, “if he believes that I’m me…” he cursed at the idea of having to go through the whole rigmarole of proving himself again.
“He’ll believe me,” Merlin said, certainly. Arthur looked over at him, and there was another moment of silent scrutiny in which Merlin resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably. But then Arthur smiled, just a tiny smile, unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t spend most of their life monitoring him because of destiny, but it was still there. Merlin smiled back, still a little uncomfortable, albeit for a different reason. There was a level of intimacy about this - being the only one to know who Arthur was - that was all a part of that shared smile.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, and the words disappeared as quickly as they could, as though they were rushing out of his mouth in shame, but they were still there in Merlin’s mind, a little reminder for when this was all over (which it would be, he would make sure of that) that Arthur had actually appreciated his help.
“You’re welcome,” he said, and was about to say more when the door opened and Gaius walked in.
***
It was not unusual for strangers and townspeople to show up randomly in the house of the court physician. It was one of the reasons Gaius tried to give Merlin such strict guidelines about his use of magic. So the physician took a moment to realise that something was out of the ordinary. He nodded to the stranger and told him that he would be with him in a minute before turning to Merlin to mention his errands for the afternoon and ask him why he had been fired this time.
It was in Merlin’s expression that he first realised that there was something wrong. Merlin could see the gears working behind his eyes while he opened his mouth to explain that maybe he would not be able to do those chores just yet.
The young warlock shot a look at Arthur, who was waiting impatiently to be noticed and giving him a look that he knew meant what are you waiting for? He ignored him and looked back at Gaius, knowing that the physician could tell by the size of his grimace just how bad the situation was.
Finally Gaius turned to look at Arthur, and Merlin had to remind himself that his friend and mentor just saw the Prince as a stranger.
“Perhaps you had better tell me what’s going on,” he said with a sigh of longsuffering and a raised eyebrow that made Merlin feel as though he were five years old again, explaining to his mother that he had not meant to move the chair away from the table, it had just happened.
“Ri-ight...” He glanced at Arthur who shook his head in amusement. There was going to be no help from his quarter.
***
All in all, Gaius took it very well. It didn’t even take him half a minute after the words ‘that’s Arthur’ came tumbling out of Merlin’s lips in a very confused and hurried run through of the situation before he was calling the young unknown man ‘sire’ as though he always had. It was almost as though situations like these were common place. He trusted Merlin’s word with barely even a question, just an ‘are you sure?’ and then it had all been quite straight forward.
“Can you see me?” Arthur asked after Merlin had finished going back and adding in the parts that he had forgotten. Gaius shook his head.
“Sorry, sire. I only see what the spell allows me to see,” Arthur nodded in understanding before giving Merlin a pensive look. His manservant was trying to look innocent again and, if they ever got through this, he was going to have a word with him about that because there was nothing more suspicious than someone trying to look innocent. No wonder Merlin ended up in the stocks every time he tried to lie to Arthur’s father.
“That’s strange,” he said, watching with vague amusement as Merlin’s face went a little whiter and his nervous smile a little wider. “Merlin thought the reason he could see me was because he knew it was me. You don’t seem to have any problem believing that, so why can he see me while you can’t?” He did not miss the quick glance that Gaius shot Merlin’s direction, nor the sheepish smile Merlin returned it with.
“I have no idea, sire. Perhaps the spell’s hold over Merlin was not as powerful as it is over me.” Arthur nodded, but filed the piece of information away under ‘odd things to do with Merlin’ in his brain; it was a long list.
“So… do you have any idea how we can reverse it?” Arthur asked and it was Gaius’ turn to look cautious and more than a little worried.
“I will research the matter, sire,” he said slowly, giving Merlin a side-long glance. “Much magic relies on a totem or image to be the focus. Perhaps, if it is something like that, then simply destroying the focus would end the enchantment.”
Arthur chose to ignore the man’s knowledge of magic: it came in useful, after all, and there was no doubt in his mind that his father would know if Gaius were a sorcerer. The physician had probably merely researched the subject at his father’s request, after all one could not fight against magic without at least understanding it. That was one of the contradictions of the law that Arthur was being brought up against again and again recently. He was aware, in a small part of his brain that, sometimes, just sometimes, the only way to counter magic was magic.
He remembered the ball of light, floating above him in the cave as he reached out for the mortaeus flower and the spiders beneath him scurried upwards. He had felt no fear there (not that he was supposed to feel fear anywhere). The light had not been aggressive nor had it been unpleasant. It had been a guide light and an encouragement, urging him upwards although he had thought he would not make it.
Sometimes magic was good, he allowed himself to think as quietly as he could in the deepest recesses of his brain. Sometimes it was necessary.
He had a sinking feeling, as Gaius avoided his gaze and Merlin frowned with worry across the table from him, that this was one of those times. Gaius’ words about a totem made sense, but there was something more, something that was not being said around this table and he wanted to know what it was.
“Sire,” Gaius said to him, with as much respect as he ever had. It was a comfort to have that respect. While Merlin’s casual disregard for his status was normal, there was something about the physician’s acceptance of him as a Prince that was deeply reassuring. He had not even realised that he had been questioning his identity until Gaius had reaffirmed it. He smiled gratefully at the man, wondering if he realised what that simple form of address meant to him. “I need to speak to Merlin for a moment, would you excuse us?” Arthur nodded, and watched as Gaius and Merlin disappeared up into Merlin’s room, wondering if this was going to be the drill every time someone new found out about the problem.
***
Arthur had managed to flick through several books of virulent diseases by the time Gaius and Merlin returned, looking a lot less comfortable than when they had gone up there. There were, he had noted with astonishment and disgust, even some etchings of the problems in some of them. He was fairly certain that the artist had been exaggerating in some cases because that last thing he had looked at… could not be possible.
“Sire…” Gaius said, Merlin lurking behind his left elbow. Arthur wondered if Merlin would spend his entire life standing two steps behind someone with that awkward look of being out of place, before refocusing on Gaius’ words. “I feel it would be best if, for now, you were to remain here.”
“We have to tell my father…” Arthur protested, although he knew what a bad idea that was. The idea of someone being that close to the King, however, and being privy to all of the court intrigue, strategy and private information that were his day to day life made his blood run cold, though. If this person had it in for Camelot as well as for him then there was little they could not do with the power at their disposal. The entire kingdom was at risk.
“I don’t know that we can, sire.” Gaius said deeply. “The only evidence we have is Merlin’s word and your own. If you were missing then perhaps we would have had a chance, but as it is.”
“We’re stuck.” Arthur said bleakly. “I’m stuck.” He had known that would be the answer before he had even brought it up. What could they do: A physician with no illness to cure, a manservant unable to follow orders and a Prince with no power? It was hopeless from the beginning. He set his shoulders anyway because, no matter what body he was in, he was not going to be defeated by some Sorcerer who felt he needed a makeover. “Well, we’re just going to have to find a way to unstuck me, aren’t we?” Gaius nodded deeply, almost a bow, as Merlin smiled in relief.
“Your father may spot that there is something… odd about the Arthur currently in the palace,” Gaius continued, and Arthur resisted the urge to laugh in his face. His father would merely decide that he needed to work harder and order him out on another patrol. Uther was constantly watching him, but he never really took the time to look. He loved his father, unconditionally, but he knew the man’s flaws.
“I don’t think we should depend upon that,” he said casually, “He had an entire conversation with Morgana this morning and she didn’t realise a thing.”
“But if he’s been planning this for a while, surely the other Arthur should know enough to fool people.” Merlin said, looking at Gaius with evident confusion.
“Yes,” the older man said, nodding, “one would assume that he had done some research.”
“Precisely,” Merlin said, “that’s what I mean. But this guy - the other Arthur - he didn’t seem to know those things. He couldn’t remember the way to his rooms, and you’d imagine that that would be something he would make sure to remember. He didn’t know my name, either,” he said looking into the middle distance as though remembering, “Until Morgana said it.” Arthur waited for him to get to the point, but he merely broke off.
“What are you getting at?” he asked.
“I don’t think he was expecting this,” Merlin said, which made no sense to Arthur at all. “I think maybe he was like Arthur - just woke up today with a different body.”
“Then why take over my life?”
“Sorcery is an offence punishable by execution,” Merlin reminded him, as though he needed reminding. “Perhaps he was afraid of being sentenced.” Arthur shook his head.
“Still, Merlin…” said Gaius, clearly just as confused by the facts as Arthur himself was. “Magic like this would take time and planning. Probably some personal effect or hair from the people involved.” He cast a slight glance at Arthur, who was pretending that he was not hearing any of this because there were limits to what Gaius should know off the top of his head. “I find it difficult to believe that he could not have planned for this eventuality.”
“Unless he isn’t the one who cast the spell…” Merlin said, a hint of a triumphant smile brushing his lips. Arthur found himself smirking a little at that too: Merlin always looked so pleased with himself when he found the solution to something, whether it was the easiest way to carry his armour or the best way to irritate him during a banquet.
Gaius looked at Merlin curiously before nodding to himself.
“You might be right.” He said with dawning comprehension. “If this is as powerful as I think it might be then the person who did this would probably already be known. There are few capable of such magic.”
“Nimueh,” Merlin breathed, and Arthur had a memory of blue eyes watching him as he killed a cockatrice and a cruel smile as the ground fell away beneath him.
“Nimueh?” Arthur asked and Gaius turned with a start. It was almost as though he had forgotten his presence. His face looked a little panicked and Arthur realised that he thought he had said too much. “Who’s she?”
“A powerful sorceress, sire,” Gaius informed him, covering his lapse of control with a slight cough. “She is known to hate Camelot.”
“How does Merlin know about her?” he asked.
“She sent the plague,” Merlin said quickly, “she controlled the avanc. I was with Gaius when he worked it out.” The Prince could tell from the looks exchanged between the pair of them that there was more to the story than that, but he let it go. They were currently his only hope, as much as it pained him to admit it. He nodded, vowing that one day he’d work out what was going on, Uther, Gaius and Merlin be damned - and Nimueh too for that matter.
“Fine… If it is this Nimueh, what do we do?” he asked. Gaius and Merlin shared a look which he could not quite understand.
“We find the totem and focus of the spell,” Gaius told him, “and destroy it.”
“And what about Nimueh?” Arthur asked, probing further into this mystery.
“Nimueh is a very powerful sorceress, sire,” the physician said, although he was looking more directly at Merlin as he spoke the words. It was almost as if he were having two separate conversations that happened to be using the same words. “To go up against her unprepared would be nigh on suicide.” He nodded, although across from him Merlin was looking more thoughtful than worried.
“But surely she’ll have the totem on her…” Merlin said slowly.
“I fear that is likely.”
“Then we’ll have to fight her,” Arthur said, standing up. Merlin followed him to his feet.
“Arthur!” Gaius reprimanded him in a tone he had never heard from his father, he was too shocked to even comment on the lack of title. He looked over as the physician stood up too. “We do not even know where to look for her, yet. You know as well as anyone that strategy is paramount in cases like these.” Arthur sagged visibly under Gaius’ understanding gaze and set himself back down into the chair. “Merlin.”
Arthur looked up to see Merlin was still standing up, looking vaguely guilty as Gaius turned to him.
“I was just…stretching my legs?” Arthur levelled a hard glance at him, aware that Gaius was no doubt backing it up with one of his own. “Fine… fine,” he sat down too and concentrated on the grain of the wooden table. “So, we need to find out where she is so that we can find the totem…” he paused, looking between them both. “How do we do that?” Arthur shrugged but then found that two pairs of eyes were turned on him.
“What?”
“Sire, can you recall what happened in the days running up to this incident. Was there anything strange or unusual about them? Did you meet anyone or insult anyone?” From anyone else the question would have come across rude, but Gaius somehow managed to pull it off without straying out of the boundaries of pure concern. That did not make Arthur much happier though.
“Why should I have done?” he asked, “you said it yourself that Nimueh has it in for Camelot. She probably just took someone off the street and switched us… I’m a Prince; anyone would want to be me.” It was not arrogance, well, not really; it was pure fact. Merlin was smirking though.
“Yeah, but people who had met you are far more likely to want to kill you,” the other young man said. The Prince shot him an acid glare that, no doubt would have worked even less well had Merlin still seen him as the strange red-haired peasant. As it was it just made his grin grow to face-splitting proportions. “What? It’s just a statement of fact.” Arthur kept the glare up a little longer until Gaius cleared his throat, breaking the stalemate.
“Merlin has a point, your highness,” he said, again somehow missing insulting. “If there is anyone with a grudge against you then-”
“Try half the kingdom,” Arthur said, interrupting the older man. “And most people outside it.” He shrugged casually. Most of his life had been spent with the threat of assassination hanging over his head. He was the only heir to the kingdom, get rid of him and there would be little or no Camelot to worry about.
“Please, sire,” Gaius was speaking in the limitlessly reasonable tone that he had always used when Arthur was younger and had slipped away from his tutors or guards to ask an unending list of questions about everything from why the sky was blue to what death was like. He imagined that the old physician must use the tone constantly with Merlin around and smiled slightly at the thought. “Any information you could give us could help with locating Nimueh, or at least finding out who you are.” He paused, “I only hope that there is no one looking for whoever it is that you currently look like. If there is then we will be in an awful lot of trouble.”
Arthur had not thought of that. Whoever had switched places with him would no doubt have family, friends or, at the very least, enemies looking for them. It made more sense than he would have liked for the person to be on the run from someone or something. What better way to evade pursuers than to cease to be yourself. The idea had clearly occurred to Gaius as well, although Merlin looked a little perplexed.
“You haven’t heard of anyone searching for someone matching my description, have you?” Arthur asked, managing to keep the unwieldy new voice under tight control. Gaius shook his head.
“No, sire. I will keep my ears and eyes open however.”
“Thank you.”
“Why would anyone be looking for you?” Merlin asked, still confused. “You’re not the Prince any more, the only person who might be looking for you is Nimueh, and I doubt she’d come up to you in the street.” He paused, “It’s not really her style.”
“What is her style?” Arthur asked, looking at him with interest. Merlin opened his mouth but then glanced sideways at Gaius and closed it again, shrugging. He tilted one eyebrow up and crossed his arms deliberately, staring at his manservant long and hard.
“Oh...” Merlin said with a nervous grin. “You know - more subtle than that. Like this.” He waved his hands around vaguely in general indication of their situation and Arthur knew that he would have to be content with that for now, at least until Gaius had gone.
***
The three of them worked through every single detail of the last three days, with Merlin writing down everyone who could possibly have had a motive to swap with him. Arthur felt that the list was a little longer than necessary (one hundred names and still going strong) but Merlin seemed to be deliberately putting on anyone he had spoken to at all. There was even the person who had accidentally dropped something onto his foot the day before.
“I hardly think he needs to be on there, Merlin,” the Prince commented, looking over the other man’s shoulder, pausing for a moment in his pacing. “And who’s Aidan?” he asked curiously.
“The stable hand who saddled the wrong horse two days ago,” Merlin said. Arthur looked at him blankly. “The one you threatened to have pelted with horse dung in the stocks?” Arthur shook his head, he was still nonplussed. “The one who called you ‘your royal pratness’ as he walked away.”
“Oh… with the funny eye?” Arthur gestured to the right hand side of his face.
“It’s his left eye, and there’s nothing really wrong with it,” Merlin told him shaking his head.
“And who’s… Merlin?” Arthur stopped and stared at the page as he came across a familiar name.
“Who am I?” Merlin asked looking up at him with amused disbelief. “I know I’m only a servant, sire, but I would have thought you’d have worked that out by now. I’m you manservant… I saved your life, remember? I rescued you from eloping with the first pretty-”
“That’s not what I meant, Merlin.” The Prince told him, trying not to smile. “And I thought we agreed not to talk about that… ever again.”
“I only agreed in so much as I won’t bring it up often,” Merlin corrected, still grinning inanely, although Arthur could not quite seem to get annoyed with the man. “What did you mean then?”
“Why is your name on the list?” he asked, bringing his finger down firmly on the offending word. He paused, glancing further down. “Why is it on there more than once?”
“It’s a list of people you’ve insulted, Arthur,” Merlin pointed out. “I thought that I should probably make that list more than once, seeing as we didn’t order it by whom you’ve insulted the most.”
“I haven’t insulted you.” Arthur protested.
“You’ve called me an idiot at least twelve times,” Merlin began, speaking as though Arthur were the idiot. “You told me that you didn’t understand how I could stand upright given how I have no sense of balance.”
“Those weren’t insults: they were facts.”
“You threw your boot at me…”
“I tossed it at you - you were supposed to catch.” Arthur told him, defending himself and shifting uncomfortably.
“Strangely enough - I can’t catch with my head,” Merlin replied, although his words lacked any rebuke, he seemed more amused by the situation than anything. “And you spent half of the morning the day before yesterday telling me that the only real use I had was as a measure of how well your day was going to go - depending on how much I spoke. Obviously because the more I spoke, the worse it was going to get. Although you did have an interesting theory about how maybe, if I talked a lot, then the day could only get better because even fighting an enraged Gryphon was more enjoyable than listening to me rabbit on,” Merlin went on. He laughed as Arthur straightened himself up and tried to look dignified while addressing the allegations.
“Well you do talk a lot, and I was already having a bad day before you come in. Some idiot woke me up before dawn while they were trying to light my fire.” Arthur was fairly certain that he was pouting now, and that did not sit at all well with him, especially when he was also fairly certain that Merlin had noticed and was laughing at him.
“There were other things as well,” Merlin said with a shrug, “but if I listed all of them then we’d probably be here all day. In fact,” he paused, and Arthur waited for whatever sparkle of so called wit he was about to impart. You could always tell when Merlin was going to try and be funny - there was a look in his eye, and his smile became slightly crooked. “I think we might have solved it.”
“You do?” He asked patiently. If he didn’t let the idiot have this, he would no doubt be unbearable for the entire day and Merlin was the only person who could see him as him.
“Yes… It must be me. Clearly I have the largest motive; I must be the one who swapped bodies with you. Quick, clap me in irons; send me down to the cells.” Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin held up his hands in fake surrender. “It’s been a while since I’ve been down there. I’m almost missing the place.”
“Shut up, Merlin.”
“Yes, Arthur.” The joke finished, Merlin turned back to the list as Arthur returned to his pacing.
“Oh… and cross your name off.” The other did so with a chuckle, and then continued to write as Arthur resumed his pacing, still attempting to remember some small detail.
“It is more likely that Nimueh would be able to contact someone in a village than in the castle.” Gaius said from his work bench, where he was fiddling with the intricacies of some concoction or other. Merlin looked up thoughtfully from his list.
“And that would explain what Morgana said about Gwen seeing you… the other you walking into the castle this morning,” the Prince’s manservant (ex-manservant?) said. This was news to Arthur and he said as much. “Oh, she mentioned it while we were talking on the balcony.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Arthur asked incredulously.
“I forgot about it until just now.”
“You forgot that someone saw ‘me’ wandering in at some point in the morning, when you knew I wasn’t me and knew that we needed to find out where the imposter came from?”
“Calm down,” Merlin said. “I remembered now, didn’t I?”
“And if you’d remembered a couple of hours ago then we wouldn’t have had to waste that time listing every single person I looked at funny, would we? We might even have solved this by now.” Arthur continued, glaring at his manservant as effectively as he could but the looks, which had been fairly ineffectual when Merlin had first arrived, had become completely useless through familiarity. He cursed mentally.
“Actually - we’re still going through people you threatened to have put in jail,” Merlin corrected, looking down at the list, “people you looked at funny weren’t coming until after we’d got through people you called idiots.”
“Well maybe you should put yourself back on the list then!”
“What’s done is done,” Gaius interrupted, stepping forward with a vial of liquid. “Now that we do know, we can address our search to those further afield. Merlin?” He handed the vial over. “Could you take this to Morgana, please? I fear she may have run out.”
“Of course.” Arthur looked between them and caught the significant look again, the one that spoke volumes in a language he could not understand. Apparently now Morgana was involved in their secrets as well.
“Is that for her nightmares?” he asked and Merlin turned round with his usual look of guilt.
“Uh, yes.”
“I’m afraid I’ve had to prescribe something stronger recently sire.” Gaius told him, smoothly covering up Merlin’s startled expression, or he would have done had Arthur not been looking out for it. “The poor girl is still troubled.” Arthur nodded and Merlin took that as an indication that he should leave, hurrying out of the room.
He watched the door swing shut behind him and was reminded of Morgana looking at him with concern, telling him that she had a feeling and there had been a dream and then him laughing at her. This was all starting to get a little confusing. No, in fact it had started a little confusing, with Merlin moving faster than anyone should really be able to (and definitely faster than Merlin because he’s seen him run) to pull him out of the way of a knife and then it had just kept on going down a path of bizarre and weird, picking up momentum as it went. He mused on the implications for a moment before turning back to Gaius who was regarding him with an almost paternal air.
“Are you okay, your highness?” the elderly physician asked and Arthur nodded tightly. Insanity seemed to be stalking him like a wolf with very bad breath, but there was no way he would ever admit that to someone.
“I’m fine. This situation is just…”
“Difficult,” Gaius agreed. “I know, sire. But we will get to the bottom of this.” The ‘I hope’ was not spoken aloud, but both could hear it clearly in their minds.
“We have to, or I fear what will happen to Camelot.”
“I know, Arthur.” The Prince looked away, breaking their eye contact abruptly. There was too much understanding in that gaze as they stared at each other. Sometimes it was like Gaius knew him too well. He had grown up seeing Gaius as an all knowing person, much like his father, but while that image of the King was tarnishing slightly, Gaius still, at some points, seemed omniscient to him.
“How about you go through the list and cross out any of the people who live in the castle,” Gaius suggested. Arthur nodded, neglecting to mention that he probably had no idea who half the people Merlin had noted down were, but he went back to his studies quickly.
After a few minutes of staring at names and trying to put them to faces he looked up again.
“This is ridiculous,” he said realisation dawning. “Of course it isn’t any of these people…” he looked up at the Physician and caught him watching him, inquiringly. “If he’s wearing my body then it makes sense that I would be wearing his.” He looked down at the page. “All I have to do is work out who I look like and we’ll have the answer.” Gaius looked at him as though he were a genius, not a look he was accustomed to from anyone outside of the duelling ring.
“You’re right.”
“I know,” Arthur said as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.
“So…” Gaius peered at him curiously, examining every inch of his features and Arthur tilted his face up slightly to give him a better view.
They sat in silence like that for a minute or so: Arthur trying to shift uncomfortably in a way that Gaius wouldn’t notice, a muscle in his cheek twitching under the scrutiny and Gaius’ intent observation.
“I’m sorry, sire,” Gaius told him with a sigh, and Arthur finally allowed himself to move. “I don’t recognise you at all.”
“Nor did Merlin,” Arthur added, “before he could see I was me, I mean.” Gaius nodded, although he had that look of disapproval again, the one Arthur was always glad was not fixed on him. Merlin being able to see him properly was clearly a point about which Gaius was not best pleased.
“Quite,” the older man said, turning away.
“Strange that…” Arthur continued, not really knowing why, but picking up on something off about the whole situation, “how he can see me and no one else can…”
“Magic is a complex thing, sire,” Gaius told him, sounding, now, unconcerned by the matter, as though he had not been irritated by it mere seconds ago. “No doubt the spell was somehow incomplete or the intention behind it did not spread as far as the caster had hoped.”
“I thought you said that Nimueh was powerful - surely someone who had been practising magic for years would not make a mistake like that…” Arthur went on. Gaius had his back to him now and was proceeding to gather together some ointments and other medicines into his bag.
“The more experienced we are, the more overconfident we become,” he said wearily. “In some ways those who are better and more accomplished at things are more likely to overlook the smaller details… I find myself having to recheck my own work over again to make certain that I haven’t missed anything out because I have assumed I already put it in.”
“That makes sense… like in duelling, when you think your opponent’s an easy mark and you drop your guard.”
“Precisely.” Gaius turned to him and smiled slightly before crossing over to the door. “I have to go and see to some of my other patients. I think it would probably be wise if you were not to leave these chambers. No doubt Merlin will be back shortly.”
“Yes… I think I’ll stay here,” Arthur settled himself down on a stool. “It’s not like there’s anything else for me to do.” He watched as Gaius left, feeling more than a little confused.
***
On to Chapter 5
-