Future, Disturbed

It was twilight as Arthur rode furiously through the trees, his blonde head bowed, his face set in determination. He could hear the pounding of hooves behind him, thundering through the forest. The first splash of rain exploded onto the back of his hand, which was clutching at the reins. He swore under his breath, chancing a glance behind. Merlin rode closely behind him, his black hair dishevelled and windswept as he frowned in concentration. Behind the manservant rode several other men, their clothes dirty and their faces grim.

"Now!" the shout came from behind and Arthur frowned in confusion as the men pursuing them veered off to the side, disappearing into the woods.

"Arthur!" Merlin's familiar cry caused the prince to whip his head forwards again, yelling and yanking on his reins to slow the horse. A woman stood in the middle of the path, her face hidden by a low hood, except for the gentle smirk she wore on her face. The rain didn't seem to touch her.

"Thank you for coming." She said gently, laughter in her voice. "Who knew it would be so easy to lure the great Arthur Pendragon to my little hidey-hole?"

Arthur drew his sword as he heard Merlin pull his horse to a halt next to his. The young manservant did not pull out a weapon.

"Who are you and what do you want with Arthur?" Merlin cried, sitting up confidently in his saddle. If Arthur hadn't known better, he would almost have thought the young man sounded brave. The woman turned her gaze next onto Merlin.

"That, I believe, is none of your business…" her eyes scanned him and she smirked again. "Servant."

Arthur felt a sting of anger at her words, dropping to the ground and advancing on the woman, his sword held tightly in his hand. "Leave him out of – whatever this is." He growled. "What do you want?"

The woman cocked her head thoughtfully. "Well, I want you out of the way, of course!" she said, holding her arms out. "How else will my people take Camelot?"

Arthur felt coldness seep into him. "There are lots of men who can defend Camelot!" He said, clutching his sword. He was very aware of the fact his father was away visiting a neighbouring kingdom. "And if you were trying to lure me away, you haven't done a great job – it's not that long a ride back." He heard Merlin hovering behind him, his feet crunching on the leaves. The rain began to pick up, the light drizzle determined to quickly become a downpour.

"Oh?" the woman stepped backwards through the trees. "I think it's further than you thought."

Arthur glanced backwards, wondering if he should just head back to Camelot, but something told him this woman had to be dealt with. Ignoring Merlin's warning, Arthur burst through the trees after the woman, Merlin – with a sigh – hot on his heels.

Arthur heard Merlin gasp behind him, as they stood suddenly before the great Lake of Avalon. The woman stood on the shoreline, her hood blowing back as she lifted her arms into the air, chanting quickly. Magic.

Arthur should have known! He gritted his teeth as he felt himself being pulled forwards towards the lake. He tried to dig his heels in, but it didn't help, the ground was quickly becoming sodden from the rain.

"What are you doing?" he cried, as he felt Merlin grab him from behind. "Are you trying to drown me? It's not that easy to take me down!" He fought against the magic, feeling it slow slightly as Merlin tugged at him behind.

The witch laughed loudly, lifting her hands above her head. "I guess your servant wants to go with you!" she cackled. "Well, if he's so desperate, then he can! You are going somewhere far, far from here. Where you can't… interfere!" She yelled the last line of the spell and Arthur felt himself surge forwards, splashing head-first into the water and going under. He heard Merlin fall through after him, and then the pulling feeling was gone.

Swimming upwards, Arthur felt his head break the surface of the water, gasping in air. He looked around him. The witch was gone, and the rain had stopped. He pulled himself to the shore, looking around for Merlin – he must be right behind him – before a loud noise startled him.

He span around, his sword held up before him, ready to face the threat. A large blue box zoomed past him, seemingly ignoring his presence completely. Blinking, he looked down. The clearing was gone. In its place, a flat grey expanse, white lines dotted down the centre. Peering into the distance, it was hard to see where it ended. Arthur was drawing a complete blank. He had no idea what he was looking at; he just had to assume it was some kind of magic – caused by that witch, no doubt.

Talking of which, he looked behind himself at the lake. Where was Merlin? He squinted, wondering if the manservant had forgotten how to swim before a familiar voice sounded.

"Arthur?"

The voice was hoarse with emotion and disuse, but Arthur recognised it. He turned, and froze in confusion. The voice sounded like Merlin, but the man he was looking at now… He had to be at least 70 years old! He had a thick white beard hiding his face, and he was wearing very strange clothes, but, if Arthur squinted, the face did look kind of familiar.

The figure stood frozen for a moment before starting forwards, breaking into a run. Arthur was surprised he could even manage, at his age. Arthur barely had time to say "wait a minute" before he was being hugged tightly by the stranger. It had to be a stranger, surely. Arthur patted him awkwardly on the back, and was startled to see tears in the man's eyes when he backed reluctantly away.

"Of course." The man said, in response to the confusion in Arthur's eyes. "I look a little different. Let me just…" And as Arthur watched, the strangely familiar eyes glowed gold and the years melted from the man's face until Arthur was face-to-face with his manservant, not more than a few years older than he had last seen him.

It took him a second to realise what had happened, and when he did, he started to back away. His sword was held discovered to be hanging loosely in his grip and he raised it until it was pointing at the impostor.

"Sorcerer!" he spat. "What have you done with Merlin?"

The man wearing Merlin's face blinked in confusion. "You don't remember?" he asked quietly, his eyes wide and fearful. "You- do you know who you are?"

Arthur continued to back away, his heart pounding, pointing the sword at the man. "I am Prince Arthur of Camelot!" he said fiercely. "What have you done with my servant?" Gritting his teeth, he dug his feet in and stood his ground.

A spluttering noise from the lake drew both of their attention, as Merlin broke the surface, gasping in a deep breath and staggering to the shore. Arthur felt himself sag with relief, as he made for his friend, helping him out of the water.

"Are you okay? What took you so long? There's this man…"

Arthur turned to look back at the impostor wearing Merlin's face, but was startled by what he saw. The man had sagged, his eyes fixed on Merlin.

"How are you here?" the impostor asked, his voice broken with confusion and sorrow. "That's not possible." Merlin glanced up from where Arthur was helping him to his feet and his eyes met the other sorcerer. The younger man's widened in shock and he straightened up quickly, feeling for his magic.

"Who are you?" He asked, slightly afraid. "Why are you wearing my face?"

Arthur looked between the two of them.

"Be careful, Merlin." He warned. "He's a sorcerer. He was old but then he… he did something. His eyes glowed, and now he looks like you. Don't trust him."

But Merlin was moving forwards, frowning around at his surroundings. "What is wrong with this place?" he asked, looking confused at the long grey expanse, the missing forest. "What's happened?"

The impostor seemed to be talking to himself. "This isn't right." He said quietly. "It's not supposed to be you as well. Not when I've waited for so long…" his eyes lifted to Merlin's and the young man recoiled from the look in them, the loneliness, and the defeat. The young servant moved hesitantly forwards.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What is this place."

The man wearing Merlin's face looked solely at Arthur, who was staring at him with distrust. "You know me. My name is Merlin." He said quietly. "You're in the future."

Arthur exploded. "Start making sense, sorcerer!" he growled, stepping forwards and pointing his sword once again at the old man. "I want the truth."

The old Merlin stared at him, unafraid and sad. "This is the truth." He said. "Arthur, don't you remember? Don't you remember the battle of Camlann? Morgana's armies were everywhere, but we won, Arthur? Don't you remember? And I told you. I told you who I am." The man was walking towards Arthur, his entire being begging the young prince to remember. "You were afraid at first, but then you accepted me." Tears sprung into the old man's eyes. "You said thank you." Arthur felt himself lowering his sword. "Don't you remember, Arthur? You have to remember. You're here! You came back, just like Kilgarrah-"

"What do you know about Kilgarrah?" The young Merlin stepped forwards, next to Arthur. His voice grew hesitant "You can't be me."

The old Merlin glanced at the young and took a step back, eyes glistening. "This is all wrong." He said hoarsely. "I don't understand why you're here as well. I waited…" he looked back at Arthur. "I've waited for so long." His voice cracked. "I've waited for so long and why is this so WRONG?" With the last word, a crack of thunder sounded overhead and the sorcerer yelled out inarticulately.

Arthur backed away fearfully, trying to hold Merlin behind himself, but the young servant was just staring open-mouthed at the sorcerer.

"How long?" The young Merlin asked, his voice cracking. "How long?"

The older Merlin glanced enviously at his younger self. "You don't know yet, do you?" he asked quietly. "None of it has happened. Has Morgana turned yet?" he asked, "Is she gathering her armies?"

The young Merlin shook his head. "I don't understand." He said. "Morgana?"

The older Merlin shook his head. "None of it has happened to you yet." He said again. "You're still so young. So far from your destiny."

Arthur looked between the two Merlins, his mind whirling. "What's going on?" he asked, "Merlin? You can't believe this man?"

But the servant wasn't listening. "I know about destiny." He said quietly, trying not to think about Arthur standing right beside him. It had been an odd day.

The older Merlin smiled sadly. "Do you know what Emrys means?"

Arthur saw Merlin react to the name, while he had no idea what was going on. He tried to say something, but the manservant got there first. "I know about the prophecy." He said, confused. "I know about the Once and Future King." He glanced sideways at Arthur.

"Yes." The older Merlin said. "The two are tied. You see, I was there for the Once, but I have to wait for the Future. The name Emrys…" he hesitated. "It means immortal."

Arthur saw his friend pale at the revelation. "Merlin?" he asked. "What's Emrys? What's going on?"

The older sorcerer continued. "It's okay, Merlin." He said quietly. "I don't remember this happening." He smiled gently. "It means I'll have to erase your memories when I…" a frown flitted across his face and a look of desperate loneliness shone in his eyes. "I'll have to." He said to himself. "I have to send you both back to your time." The words looked like they destroyed him a little.

"So this is what I become." Arthur turned in shock at the young Merlin's words. He couldn't possibly believe- but it looked like his servant was taking in every word the impostor was saying. The young man's eyes were shining with tears, and Arthur couldn't stand him to look miserable as well; it was bad enough looking at the pain on the impostor's face.

"I want someone to explain what is going on." Arthur said firmly, bringing the sorcerers' eyes to him. The older Merlin stepped forwards a bit.

"Arthur." He said, his voice oh-so-familiar, but slightly different… It was sadder, quieter than he was used to. Arthur shook his head.

"No, you can't be." He said. "Merlin." He looked at his friend, but he was looking at Arthur with the same expression. "But he's a sorcerer, Merlin! He's got magic!"

The young warlock blinked fresh tears from his eyes. "I know, Arthur." He said hoarsely. "I… I have magic, too." He dashed at his eyes and whispered a spell into his fist, opening it to reveal a softly dancing flame. His eyes looked back up at Arthur, fearful.

Arthur stepped back. "No." he said, "No! You're an impostor as well! Where's Merlin? MERLIN! MERLIN!" He waded into the lake, away from the impostors wearing his friend's face. "Where is he? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM?"

He glanced back, to see the young warlock staring at him, his eyes miserable. "I'm sorry, Arthur." He said. "I wish I could have told you. I'm a coward. I'm such a coward, and once I'd kept it for so long, it was just easier to keep hiding it from you. I never knew how you'd react…"

"Not well." The older Merlin's voice drew their gazes to him. "Not at first, but…" a sad smile tugged at his face. "I guess you had no choice. You couldn't get away from me. Not when you were dying." His voice caught on the last word. "I always wondered… would it have made a difference if I'd told you earlier? Would you have lived? Would you have trusted me? There are so many legends, Arthur…" Arthur just stared at the old man. "So many legends about you, and about me, and about our story… Many of them say you knew, all along. I always wondered if it could have worked out so well as in the stories, but then again, it never does."

Arthur swallowed slowly. "You lied to me." He said eventually, talking to the familiar Merlin, not the one with the thousand-year-old eyes. It hurt less to look at the younger one. "You've always lied to me. Were you ever even my friend?"

Merlin dashed at his eyes again. "You know I was, Arthur. Am. I am your friend, this doesn't change who I am. Please, Arthur."

It had been a very strange day, Arthur thought, looking into the two sets of eyes that mimicked his best friend. He swallowed, wading out of the water, keeping a hand on his sword.

"How long?" he asked eventually, mimicking Merlin's earlier question, addressing the older man. "I assume you're the immortal one, whatever that's supposed to mean. So you're waiting for something, right? How long?"

"I'm waiting for you, Arthur." The older Merlin said, looking him searchingly in his eyes. "You, the Once and Future King. It is said that once more, when the world is in peril and it needs your help, you shall rise again to reclaim your throne."

Arthur blinked. That was quite the destiny. "I'm sorry I'm not him." He said, after a while. "I'm just a Prince." His mind was reeling from the discoveries of the day, but his answer had still not been answered. "How-?"

The older Merlin closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Two thousand years." He said, his voice cracking again. "I thought-" His eyes screwed tighter, and Arthur could see tears starting to stream out from underneath. The thin man's shoulders started to shake, and before he knew what he was doing, Arthur strode forwards and pulled his friend into a hug. "I thought I didn't have to wait any longer." He heard the man say into his shoulder. "I thought I was free."

"I'm sorry." Arthur breathed, looking back at the younger Merlin, who was staring fearfully at his future self.

"Two thousand years." Arthur heard him say, horror in his voice. "All by myself." The young sorcerer shook his head, backing away. "No." he said, his voice growing. "I don't want it. I don't want this destiny!"

Arthur and the older Merlin pulled away from each other, the old sorcerer looking at his younger self sympathetically.

"Make the most of the time you have with friends." He said quietly, his eyes suddenly burning with determination. "I wish you could remember this, but history is too sensitive to be messing with." He looked at Arthur fiercely. "I'll see you again, my lord. I don't know when, but I'll wait for you."

Arthur shook his head. "Wait!" he said, quickly. "I don't want to forget this! I don't want-"

Arthur's face broke the surface of the lake and he looked around. He didn't see anything different about this place. The witch stood by the side of the lake, turning around in surprise when she heard him surface.

"What?!" She exclaimed, looking at him furiously. "You can't be here! I don't understand!"

Arthur laughed, hearing Merlin surfacing beside him. "If your plan was to get us a bit wet, then I guess it worked." He said, wading towards her out of the water, his sword raised high.

The witch raised her hands once more, her mouth shaping out the start of a spell before a loud crack echoed through the clearing and a tree branch fell from above her, knocking her to the ground, dead.

"Huh." Arthur said, peering at the trees. "That's a stroke of luck." He glanced back at his manservant. "Come on; let's get back to the castle, quick!"

A set of blue eyes glowed gold, and Merlin was once again an old man, staring out at the glassy lake. He closed his eyes, forcing back the tears and turned, heading back towards the old hut he lived in.

Maybe tomorrow.