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Feasts, Merlin had decided long ago, were the bane of his existence. They were loud, filled to the brim with demanding nobles, and the most busy events for servants year-round. And that wasn’t even taking into account how many times someone had tried to kill or harm Arthur at a feast! Poisoned food, potions snuck into wine, cursed objects being brought as gifts to feast, the damned list went on and on until the end of Merlin’s patience and sanity.

All in all, feasts were nothing but an annoyance for Merlin, as they brought him nothing but extra work, both as a servant and Arthur’s protector. So, he was absolutely thrilled that Arthur was hosting a feast in celebration of a successful treaty with Annis’s kingdom in the same week that the knights were receiving reports of a monster stealing livestock from the outlying villages.

Truly, Merlin thought as he scrubbed the floors of the royal chambers for the third time that week, the prat had outdone himself this time. Three nights in a row this creature had attacked, getting closer to Camelot each time whilst evading the knights’ patrols, and Arthur was still going ahead with his plans for the feast.

“The knights are more than capable of vanquishing an overgrown wolf,” Arthur had rationalized when Merlin asked him why he wouldn’t postpone the feast when there was clearly something afoot elsewhere in the kingdom. “These things happen frequently, and I cannot cancel a whole feast while Queen Annis is our guest here! A few lost sheep are not nearly as important as maintaining a good relationship with our neighboring kingdoms, especially given Camelot’s past with Carleon. We cannot afford for this treaty to fall through.”

And, under normal circumstances, Merlin would have agreed with Arthur, but this beast was no wolf. Arthur might try to deny the presence of magic in any situation that he could, but Merlin had run into too many creatures of magic during his time in Camelot to write any strange occurrence off at first glance.

And, to his credit, Merlin had been correct in his suspicions. Every single account from the terrified villagers who had seen the beast claimed that it stood on two legs, rather than four. As soon as Merlin had passed along that information to Gaius, the physician had gone pale and wordlessly handed Merlin a bestiary, open to a marked page. On it, there was an illustration of a massive wolf-like creature that almost had the frame of a human.

It was a werewolf, apparently. The bestiary described it as a vicious magical creature that was formed by a high priestess placing a curse on a victim and called forth from its victim’s body by the moon. The closer to the full moon, the more aggressive the werewolf became, until it hungered for human flesh on the night of the full moon. Well, Merlin had thought as he shut the book with an exhausted sigh, that explained why the knights couldn’t find it during the day and what Morgana had been up to for the past few weeks.

Which was what led Merlin to his current predicament: the full moon was that night, the same time as Arthur’s feast.

Arthur had already all but demanded his presence at the feast, making it clear that he wanted to keep Merlin close for support. Merlin would’ve been touched by the gesture if it didn’t mean that he had to stand in a corner holding a pitcher for several hours on end. Merlin knew that If he didn’t show up at the feast, then Arthur would track his wayward servant down himself.

But, at the exact same time, he had to stop the werewolf before it could attack anyone in the lower town. The knights weren’t equipped to stop a creature of magic like this, and there was no one else who stood a chance at defeating the beast besides Merlin.

Magic though he might be, Merlin was still only one person, limited by the unfortunate physical restraints of only having one body. His life would be so much easier if he could just have more of himself to take care of these things…

Merlin’s hands stopped scrubbing, holding the brush still as an idea formed. He stared at his own reflection in the now-gleaming floors, and inspiration hit him like a bolt of lightning.

With his heart pounding with anticipation– or perhaps excitement– at this new idea, Merlin shoved his brush aside and ran out of Arthur’s room, only slipping a little bit on the wet floor. He had to be quick about this, since Arthur’s daily training with the knights would be ending soon, and he would demand Merlin’s presence for the rest of the afternoon in preparation for the feast that evening.

Not for the first time, Merlin was grateful for his reputation among the servants for being chronically tardy, so no one raised any eyebrows at the familiar sight of Merlin running down the castle’s hallways like a demon was chasing after him.

Well, no one raised any eyebrows until he burst through the door to Gaius’s chambers while the physician was in the middle of preparing sensitive remedies for various patients in the lower town.

Merlin gave his mentor the most innocent smile he could muster, only squirming slightly at the unimpressed look Gaius gave him. It was the familiar ‘I know you’re up to something, but I’m too busy at the moment to deal with your nonsense’ look, but Merlin ignored it in favor of rushing up towards his room and grabbing one of the books of spells that he had “borrowed” from the hidden section of the library.

Avoiding Gaius’s even more judgemental glare when he left his room with an extremely illegal book in his arms, Merlin tucked the book into the back of his jacket and took off in the direction of the dungeon, which would be unguarded due to its current lack of any prisoners.

While the hidden tunnels under the citadel would be a twisting maze for any intruder, they hardly posed an obstacle to a servant who had been using them to sneak in and out of the castle for years on end. Merlin was easily able to follow his mental map of the tunnel system to slip out of the castle unseen by any noble or fellow servant, silently making his way to the forest right outside the city walls.

Now that he was safely out of view of the city, hidden by the dense treeline and brush, he used his magic to quickly confirm that he was indeed alone. The last thing Merlin needed was someone running up to the king in the middle of a treaty negotiation screaming about a magical manservant.

Merlin shuddered at the thought of it, despite the warm rays of the afternoon sun shining down on him through the treetops. No, that would be a disaster for everyone involved, which was exactly why Merlin needed to go through with this.

Merlin needed to be by Arthur’s side during the feast, but Merlin also needed to use his magic to hunt down and stop the werewolf before it could hurt anyone. For anyone else, there would be no solution to this dilemma.

But Merlin was not anyone else. He was Emrys, and a situation like needing to be in two places at once would not stop him.

Cracking open the near-ancient and yellowed grimoire, Merlin flipped to a page that he had read several weeks ago and had marked as a potentially helpful spell for future reference. Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for his past self’s foresight, because this spell would certainly be helpful in his current situation.

After a couple seconds, he came to the page he was looking for. It had a distinct illustration to the side of the spell itself, displaying an image of a sphere, meant to represent something akin to a spirit or soul, splitting apart into two smaller spheres. At the top of the page, it read in a flowery, ornate font: “A spelle most potent to duplicate oneself. This most powerful magick allows the talented sorcerer to bring their own reflection to life”.

Satisfied by the spell’s description, Merlin propped the book up on a tall rock and spent a few minutes studying the words of the spell itself, mouthing them out to himself as practice. After all, this spell involved manipulation of his own soul, so there was no room for error.

Finally, after he was confident in his own ability to correctly cast the spell, Merlin stood up straight and held his arm out in front of him, willing his magic to be shaped by the words of the spell.

“Þa godcyning splittð hyre sylf into þrim ac án, swa mine agene sawl sceal beon sundor adrift. Ic bebiede mine forbrocen sawl to wyrcean wæstme for hyre sylfe on minum anweald!”

As the goddess splits herself into three yet one, so my own soul shall be sundered apart. I command my fractured soul to form a vessel for itself in my image!

As he spoke, the sky darkened above him and the wind picked up, as if nature itself was agitated by his actions. There was a strange tugging sensation in his chest as well, but Merlin did not let himself falter. Now that he had begun, he had to finish this spell, or else he would face the unimaginable consequences of botching soul magic.

“Bēo forgyfen of þissum wæstme, ic bebēode þē! Bēo āseġen fram mē oðþæt ic-”

Be freed of this vessel, I command thee! Be separate from me until I-

Merlin’s chant was caught off with an involuntary yelp as thunder struck just a few yards away from him, forcing him to stop the spell for a split second as his heart pounded in his chest. By the time he realized that he hadn’t finished the spell, Merlin opened his mouth again, ready to complete the chant, but the tugging in his chest had spread throughout his entire body, and a golden light started seeping through his skin.

Merlin watched with horror as light grew stronger and converged at a certain point an arm’s length away. The spell had already completed itself, but Merlin hadn’t completed the spell.

Oh no.

Despite his growing panic and horror, the light continued to seep away from his skin. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it was strange. He stood still, watching as the golden light first condensed into a sphere, similar to the illustration in the spellbook, and then grew. The light spread outwards, forming arms, legs, and a head, until the light took on the vague shape of a man.

Merlin simply watched in frozen horror as the form morphed into a more refined shape and took on more specific features, until he was finally staring at a glowing reflection of himself, down to the smallest of details.

As his reflection’s form became complete, the tugging sensation became stronger. Merlin grimaced with the sudden pain of it, but it only grew more powerful. In a desperate attempt to stop whatever this was, Merlin called on his magic with the wordless command of make it stop!

But his magic never responded. Merlin’s panic exploded as he desperately grasped at his ever-present magic, only to find it gone. Merlin’s heart almost gave out with terror at the realization.

His magic had been blocked before, sure, but he had always been able to feel it, even when he couldn’t necessarily access it. But this, this was different. He couldn’t feel his magic at all. It was like someone had cut him open and bled him of his magic, the very thing that held him together.

Or, Merlin thought as he stared at his reflection with wild, panicked eyes, the very thing that had held him together.

Merlin’s fears were confirmed when his reflection finally opened his eyes with a gasp, revealing bright, golden eyes.

Emrys wasn’t quite certain when Merlin had ended and he had begun. All he knew was that in one moment, he had been staring at a golden reflection of himself, panicking at a spell gone wrong, and in the next, he was standing where the reflection had stood just a second ago. In front of him, his own body stood, nearly hyperventilating with terror.

But, that… wasn’t his own body? Because he himself was standing where the newly-formed reflection had stood just moments ago, so he must be the reflection then, right?

Gods, this was confusing.

But first, he had to calm his… other self? Himself? Whatever the right phrase was, he had to calm the him that was in the other body down.

“Hey,” Emrys called out gently to his other self, his arms outstretched as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal, “it’s alright. Take deep breaths, like Gaius tells his patients to, right?”

Slowly, Merlin’s gasping breaths evened out, and Emrys gingerly guided him over to the rock where he had set the spellbook down just a few minutes before this whole disaster.

Emrys suppressed an aggravated groan at the sight of the damned book. Why did every single one of his plans get shot to hell in one way or another?!

After one last glare at the spellbook, Emrys tore his gaze away from it and focused back on Merlin, who had stopped hyperventilating but still had that wild, panicked look in his eyes that was rather reminiscent of a cornered animal. As Emrys watched his other self, he eventually heard him start to mutter quickly under his breath. Leaning in closer, he could hear Merlin speaking one word over and over again, his voice growing more and more hysteric as he cupped his hands in front of him.

“Leoght, leoght, leoght, leoght, leoght, leoght!”

Emrys furrowed his brows as he looked down at Merlin’s empty hands. That was strange; with the force that Merlin was chanting with, that should be more than enough to summon a small light. He had done it hundreds of times before, so why would it not work now? Emrys’s own magic swirled under his skin, its power readily accessible to him. In fact, it almost seemed more reactive than usual, almost as if it was more concentrated than it was before…

Oh no.

In the hours that followed the botched spell, Merlin’s world had been reduced to a blur of pain and confusion.

He could vaguely recall his own face, eyes burning a bright gold, looking at him with concern, which was very quickly followed by panic. He could remember being half-carried by his reflection back to Camelot, re-entering the castle through the same labyrinth of passageways that he had used to sneak out undetected.

Merlin was numb. There was no other word for this sensation. Air barely reached his lungs, the world was gray around him, the vibrant life that always surrounded him had gone silent. The space under his skin that had always, always buzzed with magic’s warm, comforting hum was gone.

Still, Merlin’s reflection soldiered on, hauling Merlin’s unresponsive body through the dark tunnels (had the darkness always been so oppressive, so frightening?) and towards Gaius’s chambers.

As they burst into the physician’s chambers, Merlin spared a brief second to be thankful that Gaius wasn’t home at the moment. He had a feeling that the situation would either give the old man a heart attack or provoke him into giving Merlin the fiercest lecture that he could give on not playing with the forces of magic frivolously. Although, that lecture would actually be deserved this time.

Merlin’s reflection gently laid him down on his (their?) bed, looking almost as frenetic and pained as Merlin himself. He told Merlin to stay there and rest while he took care of the werewolf, and for once Merlin was more than happy to comply. Moving at all felt like a dull ache, which became a fierce flare of pain with each of his attempts at standing up.

Merlin watched as his reflection (or would he be called Emrys? The distinction felt correct, for some reason.) ran out of Gaius’s chambers, only stopping to grab a cloak to conceal his face.

That was probably a good idea, Merlin thought while half-delirious with pain. It would be kind of difficult to explain this situation if someone saw Merlin running out into the woods and then saw Merlin in Gaius’s chambers shortly afterwards.

Without any company, time began to blur as Merlin slipped in and out of sleep, which was the only respite he could find from the ache under his skin.

Merlin wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Emrys had left, but he was abruptly pulled out of his pained daze by the sound of a very familiar set of boots angrily stomping up to the doors of Gaius’s quiet chambers.

“Merlin! I know you’re in there you lazy sod!”

Merlin groaned as Arthur’s irate shouting caused the ache in his head to pulse again.

“Come on,” Arthur’s voice got closer, “No one’s even seen you since midday, and the feast starts in an hour! How on earth is a king supposed to get prepared for a feast without his manser-”

Merlin sighed lightly with relief as Arthur’s annoyed rant trailed off, opening his eyes to meet Arthur’s surprised stare. Merlin frowned slightly at the sight of Arthur’s suddenly pale face. Was Arthur coming down with some illness? That wouldn’t do, he always acted like such a big baby when it came to anything as simple as a sneeze, and Merlin quite frankly didn’t want to have to deal with that while he himself felt barely able to stand.

“Are… are you feeling alright, Merlin? Had one too many at the tavern?”

Despite his jab at Merlin’s fictitious escapades at the tavern, Arthur’s voice was tight, almost apprehensive.

Merlin groaned again, trying to gather his thoughts long enough to form a response.

“I’m not hungover, you prat. I was out collecting herbs for Gaius earlier, and I must’ve caught something.”

“You were out in the woods with a wild wolf on the loose so close to the city?! Merlin, you idiot, do you have some sort of death wish?!”

Merlin groaned out a response that was a half-hearted attempt to call Arthur a cabbagehead, but it sadly fell short.

“Well, I can’t be seen at the feast with a manservant who looks like death warmed over. I’ll have someone else cover your duties for tonight, so I expect you to be up bright and early tomorrow to repay your gracious king for his generosity.”

Merlin sent a glare Arthur’s way, but between Merlin’s own lack of energy and his certainty that Arthur, despite his words, was actually just worried about his health, his glare lacked any malice.

“No, no, I can still stand behind you while you make a royal prat of yourself for a whole night.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin’s claims while the manservant gingerly sat up and raised himself off the bed, wincing slightly as he stood.

“See?” Merlin said brightly with a completely unconvincing grin, “I’ll be fine. Besides, who would keep you awake between all of those boring conversations about the differences between Camelot’s and Carleon’s trade routes?”

Arthur winced slightly at the reminder of the evening of dry political discussions ahead of him, and Merlin knew he had won.

“Fine, fine. You can attend the feast tonight, but I’ll have you in the stocks tomorrow if you go off fainting like a girl and making a scene in front of Queen Annis. In fact–”

Arthur grinned in a way that Merlin knew meant trouble.

“I’ll have Leon keep an eye on you the entire night, just to make sure that you don’t collapse in the middle of the festivities.”

Merlin resisted the urge to sigh. Arthur was coming from a place of disguised concern, but he also knew that he was damning Merlin to an entire evening of being watched like a hawk and being fretted over by one of the most vigilant knights Camelot had ever seen. If Merlin had so much as a sniffle, Leon would be on him like a bloodhound, and Arthur, based on his all-too satisfied smile, knew it.

So, Merlin just nodded and agreed to Arthur’s terms, knowing that he likely wouldn’t be able to get into the feast without at least one knight being assigned to watch him for any signs of malady.

But he had to be there to protect Arthur in case something went wrong, since feasts were so commonly used as a means for assassins to sneak into the castle–

But he didn’t have his magic. He couldn’t do anything. He was useless.

The realization slammed into Merlin so hard that he gasped, causing Arthur to lurch towards him, holding him up by his shoulders when Merlin’s knees nearly gave out.

“Merlin? Merlin, what’s happening?! What is this?!”

Merlin took a few gasping breaths, trying to calm himself down as he did before. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and he became faintly aware of the tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s… it’s nothing, Arthur. Just some shortness of breath that must be a symptom of this illness, that’s all.”

Merlin gave Arthur his most reassuring smile, and they both pretended that they believed it was genuine.

There was something terribly wrong with Merlin.

Normally, Arthur would say such a thing in jest, but at that evening’s feast, that simple observation became all too serious.

Ever since Arthur found his manservant shivering in his own bed, he knew that something was wrong. Merlin was an awful shade of sickly pale, his breathing was shallow and panicked for hours on end, and he would not stop shivering. Arthur resisted the urge to drag Gaius back to check on him since the old physician was attending to important business in the lower town, but that did not stop his worry in the slightest.

At the very least, Arthur reassured himself, Gaius would be back after the feast and would see to his ward when he returned. Merlin would be alright for a few hours, surely?

Besides, as tempted as Arthur was to order his stubborn manservant to stay in bed for the sake of his own health, he knew that Merlin would not follow those orders, claiming that he felt “just a little under the weather.”

“A little under the weather,” he claims while the act of standing up was nearly too much for him! Honestly, with how much Merlin disregarded his own health, it was a miracle he made it to adulthood at all.

Still, his worries about Merlin’s health aside, the feast was off to a great start. The dining hall was decorated lavishly, the food was cooked perfectly, the entertainers were lively, Annis’s entourage was engaged in polite conversation with his knights, and Merlin, standing behind Arthur’s seat with a jug of wine, was under constant surveillance from both Leon and Gwaine, who joined the concerned watchgroup immediately upon realizing that Merlin was ill.

It was almost going too well, which perhaps should have been Arthur’s sign that something was about to go horribly wrong. To his surprise, however, it wasn’t Merlin’s suddenly ailing health that upended the feast’s lively mood.

No, the joyous environment of the feast was ruined when two knights burst through the dining hall’s doors with their capes mangled and torn and their bodies covered in blood.

Everyone at the feast stood up as soon as they caught sight of the wounded knights, their gazes horrified.

“Sire!” One of them, Sir Gales, if Arthur had identified him correctly underneath all the blood covering his face, “we apologize for the interruption, but we bring grave news!”

“What is it? And what on earth happened to the two of you?!”

“It was the beast, sire. The one you had sent us out to kill. We thought that it would be an ordinary wolf, but it was far from it! The tales were true, milord, for when it found us, the horrid beast stood on two legs like a man! It broke men’s bones with a single bite, and none of our arrows even pierced its hide! Many of us fled from the beast, but it showed no mercy, killing all that it could get its claws on. It did not kill to feed, but out of some savage instinct!”

The feast’s attendees gasped at the description, and shocked murmurs arose from the crowd, with people speculating as to what this horrible beast might be. However, one part of the story stuck out to Arthur.

“You claim that your weapons could not harm the beast, correct?”

Sir Gales shakily nodded, clearly disturbed by what he had witnessed. Arthur’s face darkened as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

“Then I fear that we were never dealing with any normal beast. If no mortal weapons can harm it, then this monster must be a creature of magic.”

A hush fell over the crowd as they looked at him with wide eyes, frightened by the thought of another creature of magic within the kingdom. Memories of the dragon’s devastating attack years ago had been seared into everyone’s minds, after all.

Arthur took a deep breath before continuing. There was only one course of action, and it was his duty to protect his people from all manner of threats, especially those posed by magic’s blight on this land.

“I have triumphed over creatures of magic before, and I shall do it again. This beast might be a creature of magic, but even the mightiest beast that the old religion had to offer, the fearsome dragon, was no match for the strength and courage of Camelot’s knights!”

A rallying cry went up from the knights as Arthur finished his impromptu speech, and all at once the knights in the hall broke out into frantic movement, running towards the armory, the stables, and the barracks, preparing for battle against a ferocious beast of magic.

Arthur tried to school his expression into something like the cold confidence that his father always wore when dealing with the dangers of magic, but based on the concerned looks that Leon and Elyan were sending his way, he probably wore something more akin to a worried grimace.

Arthur thought that such a face was granted, at least, given the circumstances. First Merlin falls suddenly ill, and now there was a monster on the loose, endangering his subjects!

From there, the preparations for battle were a very familiar blur. He went back to his chambers, where Merlin dressed him in armor and handed him his sword. The only deviation from their usual pre-battle routine was the lack of one of Merlin’s little pep talks. It was understandable why Merlin wouldn’t give one, seeing as how he was too busy focusing on keeping his arms steady as he buckled Arthur’s plate armor together, but he still missed the encouragement all the same (not that he’d tell Merlin that, the man would lord it over him for years).

Perhaps it was the situation at hand, or Merlin’s uncharacteristic silence before they departed, but Arthur felt ill at ease as he rode out into the forest with a dozen knights and a stubborn manservant who refused to be left behind, even while sick. There was something… off about this entire night, something that made the hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck stand up with a feeling of wrongness, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Arthur shook those thoughts away. That unnerving feeling was simply caused by the unnatural magic of the beast they were hunting, that was all. There was no other explanation for it.

As they rode deeper into the forest, that uncanny feeling only increased as the darkened forest got quieter, as if all of the nocturnal animals were silent, afraid to make a sound. In hindsight, in the absence of Merlin’s usual “funny feelings”, the unnatural silence of the forest around them should have been Arthur’s sign that something was about to occur.

Even with their guards up and being on the lookout for any sign of the beast, their hunting party was still somehow caught off guard when a gigantic blur of gray fur jumped out from the darkness and blocked their path.

Arthur’s eyes widened with horror at the beast, and his stomach flipped with revulsion at the mere sight of it. It was as grotesque as those outlandish stories claimed! It was as if the body of a wolf had been crudely stretched over the frame of a man, its body misshapen in a horrendous way, and every part of its dark fur was matted with blood. The sight of it looked like something straight out of the horror stories of monsters conjured by magic that his father used to tell him as a child!

A shudder went down Arthur’s back as the beast turned and growled at them, and his hand immediately went to his sword. He had been trained since birth to defend his people against threats like this, and failure was simply not an option.

Before he could finish drawing his sword though, the beast let out something akin to a pained whimper and turned back to face the trees from whence it had come. The beast seemed to pay them no mind as it backed away, growling viciously. However, it didn’t seem to be growling at them, but rather something off to the right of the path…

As it stepped back, Arthur could see that it favored one of its hind legs over the other, and some of the blood in its fur seemed to be coming from wounds on the beast itself, rather than one of its victims. Warm hope bloomed in Arthur’s chest at the realization that someone had managed to wound this monster. In fact, it seemed that they had it on the run!

Still wary of taking his eyes off of the almost-cornered monster, Arthur turned slightly to look out into the dark woods, trying to make out the shape of whoever the beast was running from. Was it one of the surviving knights from the initial hunting party? Perhaps it was a skilled huntsman, taking up his weapon to protect his family from the beast?

Either way, Arthur would honor whoever accomplished this for their valor and skill, for being able to injure a creature of magic in such a way was truly a feat worthy of praise! Maybe they’d be interested in a knighthood, if they weren’t one of the knights already?

Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts by a feral growl from the beast, its eyes still trained on whoever had pursued it. Arthur opened his mouth to give a yell of warning to the hunter, but in the same instant, the man-wolf lunged into the darkness, knocking aside the greenery to claw and snap its jaws at the figure that stood beyond Arthur’s sight.

Before his mind could catch up, Arthur had already jumped off his horse and drawn his sword, ready to defend the hunter that had injured the beast. His heart pounded with the familiar anticipation of battle, and a resolve that had been cultivated in him since he could hold a sword rushed through his limbs, an awareness that only came to him in battle but felt as natural as breathing.

He could hear the sounds of the beast and the still-unseen hunter battling through the trees along with the frantic rustling of the knights in the hunting party also dismounting and preparing to aid the brave hunter in his fight. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could also see Merlin, still shaking and dreadfully pale, gathering the reins of the knights’ steeds to keep them safely away from the monster.

Perhaps it should have unnerved him, how attuned to Merlin he always was, but it didn’t. This, too, felt as natural as his heart beating in his chest.

“On me!”

The knights gave a war cry behind him at his command, and they charged into the forest, following the monster’s path of destruction that it had left in its wake.

The path that the beast had left might have been difficult to see in the darkness, but there were flashes of light up ahead, which illuminated the path occasionally. Maybe the hunter was trying to repel the beast with a torch? The light seemed awfully bright for a simple torch though…

Arthur’s train of thought was cut off by the beast’s pained roar, which filled Arthur with hope and relief alike. It sounded like the hunter had the monster on its last legs!

A few seconds later, Arthur and the knights burst into a clearing where, sure enough, the heavily injured beast was frantically swiping its claws at a figure, whose face was still obscured by the dark, but Arthur could still make out his movements.

The beast clawed at the man again, who held his hands out in an attempt to defend himself. Good god, the man was weaponless! He must have lost his weapons at some point during the chase!

Arthur sprinted forward and watched in horror as the monster’s claws came down on the unarmed man. He was too far away to do anything, that poor hunter was about to be killed–

Arthur’s body and mind both came to a screeching halt as a bright light emerged from the man’s hands and blasted the beast away.

Magic.

The man Arthur had assumed to be a heroic hunter was no hunter at all, he was a sorcerer. Was he the one responsible for the beast’s sudden appearance?

But why would he be fighting his own weapon? Had his nefarious plans gone awry somehow?

Arthur glanced back at the knights behind him, who all wore expressions of wariness and uncertainty, along with a small tinge of fear. They didn’t have the numbers and weapons needed to battle a powerful sorcerer, especially one that was apparently strong enough to single-handedly take on a monster as ferocious as that.

They met his gaze, and there was an unspoken question there: do they intervene, or wait until either the beast or sorcerer were killed?

Arthur gave a small shake of his head. They wouldn’t get in the middle of this battle, it would only lead to unnecessary risks. Who knew what harm could come to them if they got between a man-eating wolf monster and a powerful sorcerer?

No, they would instead lie in wait and see which of the two came out the victor, and then deal with the weakened victor themselves.

And then, as with most of Arthur’s plans, his strategy got shot to hell. Namely, it got shot to hell by Merlin, who had apparently been trailing them and not staying back with the horses to be safe, letting out a strangled gasp at the sight of the sorcerer battling the beast and darting forwards, running faster than any of them would expect from a man who had been barely able to stand earlier that same day.

“Merlin! What are you doing?! Get back here!”

Arthur’s panicked cries were lost under a howling cry from the beast, and damn it Merlin was already halfway to that monster!

Arthur’s feet were moving before he could even think about taking a step, a deeply ingrained (and unfortunately frequently used) instinct of ‘keep Merlin out of danger’ taking over his body without conscious thought.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as the sorcerer’s head turned to look at Merlin. What was Merlin thinking?!

Thankfully, the sorcerer seemed to be too preoccupied with fighting the monster to attack the reckless idiot running straight towards him. However, Arthur’s relief was short-lived as he watched lightning burst forth from the sorcerer’s hands, striking the beast’s vulnerable underbelly in a devastating killing blow.

The monster slumped over and hit the ground with a loud thud, its underbelly smouldering from the attack and its limbs twitching weakly. The display of devastating power almost stopped Arthur dead in his tracks, his training screaming at him about how dangerous this sorcerer must be, but it seemed as though the sight hadn’t faltered Merlin’s step one bit. The fool kept running towards the sorcerer at full tilt!

By the time that Arthur managed to force his feet to move again, there was already a substantial distance between him and Merlin. Arthur’s heart leapt into his throat as Merlin shouted something at the sorcerer, which made the magic user’s head turn towards him.

Damn it! Why had Merlin gone and put himself in danger for no reason like this?! What was he doing?!

Arthur kept his eyes trained on the two of them as he mustered up all of his stamina to sprint the last stretch of distance keeping him from Merlin. If the sorcerer made any sort of movement, he needed to be able to get Merlin out of the way in time!

As he drew closer, he could at last make out the details of the sorcerer’s appearance. His robes looked fairly similar to what Arthur had seen on other magic users, and there were no symbols on his clothing that would mark him as one of Morgana’s allies. When he finally reached Merlin though, his stomach dropped with sudden horror as he saw the sorcerer’s face.

“What foul sorcery was this?!”

Both Merlin and the sorcerer wearing Merlin’s face through some horrid trickery looked startled at his outburst, wearing identical looks of alarm. The only difference between their faces was the gold glowing in the sorcerer’s eyes, which still hadn’t faded. The sight of it both disturbed Arthur greatly and made his blood boil with rage.

This must have been why Merlin had run to confront the sorcerer! He must have somehow seen this magical imposter parading around wearing his visage and needed to stop him! Who knew what evils the sorcerer could accomplish while pretending to be one of the most trusted men in all of Camelot!

Yes, it all made sense to Arthur now! The sorcerer, the beast and even Merlin’s sudden illness, it was all connected! This nefarious sorcerer had concocted a scheme to infiltrate Camelot under the guise of being Merlin himself, using some sort of enchantment or ritual that gave him Merlin’s appearance, which was the cause of Merlin’s own inexplicable malady. Then, the sorcerer had set the beast free on the outskirts of the city to distract Arthur so that he could sneak into the castle undetected and replace Merlin, giving him access to all of Camelot! They were beyond fortunate that the sorcerer’s plans had backfired so spectacularly.

And now, Arthur thought as he gripped his blade tightly, there was nothing left to do besides ensure that this magical imposter could never attempt such a thing ever again.

“Arthur, wait, it’s not what you think!”

Arthur shuddered at the imposter’s words. He even sounded exactly like Merlin. This needed to end, now.

“I do not care to hear any of your excuses or trickery, sorcerer! You will pay for impersonating my manservant! I will not allow you to frame him for any of your schemes against Camelot!”

Arthur swung forward with his blade, aiming for a killing blow that would slice this cretin clean in half. His sword was knocked out of his hand with a mere twitch of the sorcerer’s fingers, but he grit his teeth and lunged for the sorcerer’s chest, hoping to get him off balance enough to strike him with the dagger Arthur kept hidden in his belt.

Arthur stumbled as vines crept up from the grass to restrain him, but he hacked through them with the dagger, steadfastly ignoring the sinking feeling that this wasn’t a fight he could win even as the iron grip of the vines restrained his limbs. For god’s sake, the other man hadn’t even done more than wave a hand!

He could hear the knights behind him, cutting through their own bindings. Who was this villain, who could turn something as mundane as grass into a force that could stop a group of the most elite knights in all of Albion?

Arthur only halted his increasingly desperate slashes at the vines encircling his legs when one of the knights rushed past him, charging at the sorcerer with a war cry. It seemed as though Gwaine had more luck escaping his bindings than the rest of them! Hope filled Arthur’s chest for a moment as Gwaine's outstretched blade swung with deadly accuracy, poised to strike down this sorcerer…

Only for Gwaine to be thrown aside by an unseen force, hitting the earth with a hard thud. Arthur’s eyes widened with horror as it happened, the sorcerer waving Gwaine aside like one of the fiercest warriors in Camelot was no more than a mere insect.

Arthur redoubled his efforts to free himself of the vines tangling his legs, this time fueled by a frantic desperation. This was no mere illusionist or druid, whoever this sorcerer was, they wielded a command of powerful magics more easily than Arthur had ever seen.

“That’s enough!”

Arthur’s head whipped around to see Merlin–the true Merlin–still standing behind him, but thankfully unharmed and free from any vines holding him down. If anything, Merlin didn’t even sound frightened, only annoyed. Merlin’s bravery in the face of danger was heartening, truly, but couldn’t he have the common sense to run away from the dangerous sorcerer trying to impersonate him?!

“Stop fighting! There’s no need for any of this!”

To Arthur’s horror, the sorcerer stepped forwards, making his way towards Merlin. Arthur strained against his bindings with all of his strength, but the vines wouldn’t budge. He could feel the pinpricks of tears behind his eyes, but he was unable to look away as the sorcerer moved closer and closer to where Merlin stood.

Thankfully, the sorcerer stopped an arm’s length away from Merlin, no doubt to taunt or goad his power over all of them, as sorcerers so commonly did.

“What do you suggest, then? Because we both know that they won’t stop. The moment I lift the bindings, they’ll attack again!”

“... We have to tell them.”

“Are you mad?! Telling them would–”

“I have a way to tell them, trust me. Besides, we need to fix this before it gets any worse.”

The sorcerer fell silent after Merlin’s last remark, and a horrifying idea formed in Arthur’s mind.

“Merlin, do you know this fiend? Has he threatened you into allowing him to take your appearance somehow?!”

Merlin sighed deeply, and suddenly any colour he had gained in his face fell away again, suddenly looking as ghastly pale as he did earlier that day. The thought that this sorcerer was responsible for it filled Arthur with a hatred that he hadn’t felt since his father was murdered by that coward Dragoon.

“Yes, I do know him, but he hasn’t stolen my appearance or anything of the like. It is, technically, his face too.”

Arthur’s brows furrowed with confusion. What was Merlin going on about now?

“This really wasn’t the introduction I would have liked, but I guess it’s too late for that now. Everyone, I’d like you all to meet my twin brother, Emrys.”

Silence fell over the clearing. Then, a clear shout fell from the king’s lips.

“Your what?!”

All things considered, Emrys thought that his ‘introduction’ to Arthur and the knights went rather smoothly, after Merlin had come up with an explanation for their identical appearances. They were all too dumbfounded by Merlin’s news to immediately try to chop his head off when he released the vines from the legs, so Emrys would count that as a success.

And if he placed Merlin strategically between himself and Arthur, well, that was just good planning on his own part. While he was willing to die for Arthur, he didn’t fancy being beheaded over a misunderstanding.

Still, it was a valuable chance to gauge the knights’ reactions to the news. Most were somewhere between disbelief and wariness, with the exceptions of Percival and Gwaine. Percival was looking at him with something more akin to unguarded wonder, while Gwaine was levelling him with a glare more murderous than anything he had seen on the man’s before.

That was odd, he didn’t think Gwaine was so opposed to magic. It stung, but he supposed he should have been expecting the worst from the knights of Camelot in matters pertaining to magic.

When he confirmed that none of the knights looked like they were about to run him through right then and there, he turned his attention back to Merlin and Arthur’s argument.

“Why would you have never told us about this?!”

“Oh yes, that certainly would have gone over well! I should’ve walked right into Camelot’s castle and told everyone there that I had a sorcerer for a brother!”

“This is a matter of safety, Merlin! How do you know he isn’t a threat to us all?! You saw what he’s capable of!”

“Of course I know what he’s capable of, but he’d never hurt me or Camelot! I know him!”

“I could’ve said the same of Morgana, and look where we are now!”

Merlin reeled back at that, looking hurt, and Emrys couldn’t help but be offended at the comparison too. They were nothing like that witch!

But he still went behind Arthur’s back, keeping secrets and plotting against the enemies of Camelot in an effort to keep Arthur, and by extension himself, in power. Could he really claim to be all that different from her?

“I am no friend of Morgana, if that’s what you’re concerned about. She attacks peaceful groups of magic users, and has made many enemies even among other sorcerers. And more than that, she’s made an enemy of me personally by targeting people she knows are under my protection. I want to see her defeated just as much as you do.”

Arthur looked past Merlin to glare at Emrys, who did his best to keep his expression calm and impassive. Any strong emotions on his part could spook Arthur or the knights into doing something rash.

“And why should we trust a word you say, sorcerer? None of us had even heard of you before today! How do we know you haven’t enchanted Merlin into believing these claims?”

A couple of the knights levelled their blades at him, clearly put on edge by Arthur’s theories. Emrys sighed in frustration.

“I am Merlin’s brother, whether you believe that or not. I am Hunith’s son, same as him, and nothing can change that. We grew up together in Ealdor, and while we may not see each other very often now, we are still family.”

Emrys and Arthur held each other’s gaze, each of them unwilling to give an inch. Emrys knew that he had proved his point, but Arthur still wasn’t backing down.

“Where were you, then?”

The voice that called out behind him was so furious, so filled with venom, that Emrys couldn’t recognize who it belonged to at first. When he turned around though, there was no mistaking that it was Gwaine who had spoken, his sword pointed directly at Emrys’s chest.

“What do you mean?” Emrys asked, hoping that he sounded calm enough. The last thing they needed was another brawl tonight.

“Where were you when Merlin needed you? Where were you when his home– your home– was being raided by bandits? Where were you when curses and magical armies put all of Camelot at risk, and you knew that your brother was there?”

“That is… a long story, I’m afraid. But–”

Gwaine cut him off with a malicious glint in his eyes.

“There’s no need, I understand perfectly. You’re just like all the other power-hungry sorcerers out there, aren’t you? You found out that you had an inkling of power and left everyone behind to chase down more of it.”

“You know nothing,” Emrys hissed out, his anger at the accusations flaring and tearing through his already-thin veneer of calmness. Why, why were they always so quick to assume the worst of magic users?!

“I left because I had to. I had no other choice! I’m a warlock, I was born with my magic! My eyes have been gold from the moment I was born, and my powers have only grown since. If I didn’t leave Ealdor to learn how to control it, my magic would have posed a threat to everyone there!

That’s not even mentioning Cenred, who was infamous for slaughtering entire villages just to get his hands on powerful young sorcerers, and Uther, who regularly sent soldiers across the border to search for sorcerers to throw on a pyre! If either of them had found me, Merlin and my mother would have been killed for harboring me! I had to leave!”

Silence settled in the clearing following his outburst, the knight taken aback. Emrys was breathing heavily, trying to gather himself before the situation took a turn for the worse. Finally, the silence was broken by a soft, almost awed whisper from Percival.

“You really are Emrys, aren’t you?”

Emrys turned, ready to question what Percival meant by that, but he was cut off by Arthur speaking once more.

“Then why are you here? Why come back now?”

Arthur's question sounded genuine this time, instead of filled with accusations as before. Emrys glanced at Merlin, who was still bone-pale and shaking.

“I’m here because Merlin is dying, and I’m the only one who can save him.”

Arthur’s heart felt like it was about to give out, like the ground beneath him had dropped away and now he was falling. His body felt numb with horror, and his ears were ringing so loudly that he could barely hear anything.

Merlin? Dying? Those two things should never be so much as thought of in the same sentence, much less spoken aloud.

“You’re lying, you must be! There’s no way…”

Arthur turned to look at Merlin: pale, trembling, Merlin, who already looked like a shell of the person he was just yesterday. Merlin hesitated for a moment before meeting Arthur’s eyes, and his gaze held a terrible truth.

Arthur shook his head, the ringing in his ears reaching a crescendo. This… this couldn’t be right! How could this have happened?!

“You did this, didn’t you?! You’ve placed a curse on him and are using him as leverage over Camelot, aren’t you? I should’ve known from the moment Merlin told us who you were!”

Emrys had the gall to look offended at Arthur’s outburst, while Merlin tried to step between them again but was held back by a still-seething Gwaine.

Arthur grit his teeth and stepped closer to the once again impassive sorcerer.

“Sorcerers aren’t capable of anything like love, even to their families. Magic empties its users of any love inside of them, I’ve seen such with my own two eyes. Neither blood nor past friendship means anything to your kind.”

A familiar pang of hurt went through Arthur as he snarled at Emrys, memories of his childhood with Morgana flashed through his mind. Just like she hadn’t hesitated to hurt Arthur, her own brother, to further her own goals, neither would Emrys.

However, Arthur’s accusations seemed to have hit a nerve in Emrys, finally. The man’s unnerving, unnatural golden eyes flared with fury.

“If I am incapable of feeling love towards my own brother, then tell me, why have I come to the aid of Camelot time and again, saving a kingdom that would see me dead, all because my brother cares for it?”

At Arthur’s look of confusion, Emrys continued, his mouth curving into a slightly malicious grin.

“Oh right, you don’t know, do you? You have no idea how much you owe to magic. Tell me, did you really think that you slayed a dragon all on your own with nothing but a spear? Did you think that you just miraculously survived the bite of a questing beast? Did you think that an immortal army invading Camelot just disappeared all on its own?!”

As Arthur stood there speechless, trying to rearrange everything he knew about all of the close calls that he and all of Camelot had encountered over the past years, Emrys leaned in closer, his eyes still gleaming in a way that looked wrong on Merlin’s face.

“Did you really think that Merlin just so happened to be the only one who has ever survived the Dorocha’s touch through sheer luck? Do you seriously believe that magical lights just summon themselves and lead people out of dark caves?”

Emrys smiled at him, but it looked more akin to baring his teeth mockingly.

“And now, I’ve travelled back into a kingdom that would see me dead for nothing more than the circumstances of my birth all because my brother is slowly dying because he tried to stop a creature that your harpy of a sister released!”

Arthur held Emrys’s gaze, not backing down one bit despite the turmoil raging inside his head. Morgana was the one responsible for Merlin’s sudden condition, then?

Why was it that Merlin’s brother could supposedly resist magic’s corruption enough to still care for his brother’s wellbeing, but Morgana couldn’t do the same?

“That’s enough, Emrys. You’ve made your point already.”

The fierce glow in Emrys’s eyes dimmed at the sound of Merlin’s softened voice, Arthur noted. It seemed as though Merlin’s presence alone was enough to keep this fearsome sorcerer, as steeped in dark magic as he was, from losing himself to magic’s corruption. But what did that say more about: Emrys’s willpower or Merlin’s effect on people?

“You went to the druids, right? Did they have anything that could help us with this?”

Arthur watched silently, his mind still reeling from what Emrys had revealed. Emrys grimaced slightly before turning to answer Merlin.

“They did have a solution, however, it isn’t exactly easy or straightforward. We should consult Gaius before we do anything else.”

Merlin nodded, accepting Emrys’s vague answer for now, but something about it struck Arthur as odd…

“Wait, what do you mean ‘we’? You aren’t permitted to be anywhere near the castle, sorcerer.”

Emrys did a much better job of holding in his temper at Arthur’s line of questioning this time, but his eyes still flared, betraying his calm appearance. Arthur supposed he was thankful for the indicator of Emrys’s mood, as disturbing as it was to see.

“Were you not listening before? I am the only one who can cure Merlin at this point. This affliction was brought upon him by magic, and it can only be fixed by magical means. So, unless you miraculously have some other powerful sorcerer who is also willing to help the people of Camelot stashed away somewhere, you only have two options: either I return to Camelot with Merlin, or Merlin dies while you can do nothing but watch. He needs me.”

Arthur clenched his fist, trying to think of some other solution, any rebuttal to Emrys’s claims. As much as he’d love to tell Emrys that Merlin already had brothers, ones who hadn’t abandoned him and ones who would lay down their lives for him, so he didn’t need to welcome his sorcerer brother back with open arms, Arthur knew that wasn’t an option.

It was almost ironic how many times this very dilemma has come up. Which was more important to him: Merlin, or his kingdom?

Arthur would never admit that it was hardly even a competition between the two of them.

Claiming that the ride back to Camelot was tense would be similar to saying that Percival’s height was above average. That being, it was a massive understatement.

Still, Merlin thought as he sat, half slumped over the saddle on the back of Arthur’s mare, it was grateful that no more fights were breaking out. He had that going for him, at the very least.

Hardly any words were spoken on their return trip, with Arthur being too busy fretting over Merlin and treating him like he was made of glass, and the knights being too preoccupied with staring at Emrys like he was some wild animal that was about to attack at the slightest provocation. Merlin didn’t think that Leon’s hand had left the hilt of his sword for the entire ride back.

Perhaps Merlin should have been more concerned about his own condition, about how his own body was failing him without his magic, the fabric of his very soul, to sustain it. But where that concern, that urgency should be, Merlin just felt that aching pain that had been lingering ever since he botched that damned ritual.

Besides, Merlin couldn’t do anything about it. He was powerless without his magic, so what good would fighting it do at this point?

While Merlin was barely able to stand upright by himself by the time they finally reached Gaius’s chambers, the look on the old physician’s face when he saw two Merlins standing at his door was almost entertaining enough to make Merlin forget about the nightmare that this day had been.

“Wha– what on earth? How…”

Arthur then stepped past Merlin into the room, which caused Gaius’s face to go through even more versions of shocked expressions. His eyebrows looked like they were about to fly right off his face from the shock of it all. Merlin internally winced at the tongue-lashing that Gaius was sure to unleash on him when he released the truth of the situation. However, with Arthur in the room, he couldn’t give Gaius a full account of the situation at the moment.

“Gaius, I’m glad that you’re back. I was hoping that you could confirm a few things for me.”

Gaius’s eyes narrowed slightly, his guard now up. One did not survive as a magic user in Uther Pendragon’s court without developing a sense of when deception and half-truths were necessary for survival; Merlin knew that well.

“Of course. What questions do you have for me, sire?”

“We encountered this man,” Arthur gestured to Emrys, who was still standing next to Merlin and holding him steady, “while searching for the beast that has been terrorizing Camelot. He witnessed him kill the beast, and then he claimed to be Merlin’s twin brother. Can you confirm that this is the truth?”

Gaius shot a split-second glance Merlin’s way, during which Merlin met his gaze and nodded ever so slightly. Go along with it, please.

Gaius sighed deeply, the type of sigh that sounded weary and told Merlin that he was, indeed, in for a tongue-lashing later.

“Yes, I can confirm that all of what you’ve said is true. He is Merlin’s brother, but he has never been able to visit Camelot or be introduced to you for… rather obvious reasons.”

“Gaius, I want you to swear to me, swear to me on my mother’s name, that he isn’t a threat to Camelot.”

“I can swear with all honesty sire, on Ygraine’s name, that he means no harm to Camelot. If he’s here, then he’s here to help Merlin.”

Merlin watched silently as Arthur stared into Gaius’s eyes, searching for any sign of uncertainty. He must have not found any reason for doubt, and he stepped away from Gaius a couple seconds later, turning back towards the door to leave.

Arthur paused briefly at the door, hesitating slightly, as if considering something, before clapping a hand on Merlin’s shoulder in a friendly gesture that was common among the knights.

“I’ll be back to check on you in the morning. Get some rest, I expect to have you back to work by the end of the week.”

Arthur’s words were spoken warmly and with some jest, but Merlin could easily detect the concern underneath. Arthur’s true message was clear: get well soon, I rely on you.

It brought a smile to Merlin’s face, and Arthur’s smile reached his eyes for just a moment, before he turned his gaze towards Emrys.

“We can speak more of this solution you’ve found tomorrow, after I’ve gathered my most trusted knights. I must ask that you confine yourself to these chambers in the meanwhile, to avoid anyone seeing you and mistaking you for Merlin.”

Emrys nodded silently, and Arthur left with a final, commanding glare in Emrys’s direction.

The three men still left in the room waited in silence until the sound of Arthur’s footsteps faded. Then, Gaius turned towards Merlin and Emrys with a face full of frustration and outrage. Both of them winced in unison at the sight of it.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time?! How many times do I have to tell you–”

By the time Gaius was finished chewing both of them out for their recklessness, it was well past the time they would normally go to bed. Which then, of course, presented a different problem: Merlin’s bed was only big enough to fit one person.

However, unlike their bigger problem, this situation had an easy solution: Merlin would take the bed, and Emrys would sleep on the floor. It made perfect sense to Emrys anyways. Merlin was ill, and Emrys could soften the floor slightly with a spell. Besides, the both of them had grown up sleeping on the floor, so this would be no different.

Merlin had put up a token resistance to this plan, insisting that he was fine and didn’t need to be coddled because of his condition, but his exhaustion soon caught up to him. In the end, there really wasn’t much he could do besides let Emrys help him over to the bed.

Neither of them spoke as they settled in for the night, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. As separated as they were now, they had a strange sort of understanding with each other. Alone like this, there was no need for words between them, not really.

So Emrys knew, somehow, that Merlin’s tossing and turning meant that he was thinking about something, that he had some burning question on his mind, and Emrys knew what that question was.

“The answer that the druids gave was straightforward, but I don’t know how we’re supposed to achieve it. According to them, we need to ‘make our other half see us as one.’”

Emrys heard Merlin’s groan of frustration from the bed.

“How are we supposed to show him that we’re the same person if he could barely believe that I was related to a sorcerer, much less be one myself? That’s not even mentioning how he treated you after he saw your magic! How would he react if he found out that I truly am a sorcerer?”

“I… I don’t know how we’re going to convince him that we're one and the same. But we’ll figure something out, we always do. But you sell yourself and your bond with Arthur short. He reacted that way because I was a stranger with magic to him. If he discovers that you – the Merlin he's always known – has magic, he would react differently.”

“I suppose you’re correct, but with all of the betrayals he’s faced, who’s to say that discovering that I’ve had magic all along won’t result in an even worse reaction than a stranger’s magic would?”

“I do not have an answer for that, and I don’t think Arthur does either. However, he did put aside his beliefs about magic for your sake, because he thought it could save you. Either way though, we need to figure this out quickly. I don’t know how much longer your body can survive without magic, but we don’t have much time left.”

Merlin’s everything ached when he woke up the next morning, which served as his immediate confirmation that everything that had happened yesterday wasn’t some strange nightmare, but had all actually happened.

He opened his eyes with a groan, and a quick peek towards the windows confirmed that it was still early, around the time when he would normally be picking up Arthur’s breakfast, but it looked like another servant would have to take over that particular job today. Merlin just hoped it wasn’t that bootlicker George who took charge of his duties while he was gone, or else he'd never hear the end of it.

A glance around the room revealed that Emrys was nowhere to be seen, but Merlin supposed that it wasn’t too surprising if Emrys had gotten up early to do some research on how to get them out of their current predicament.

His limbs and joints burned with dull pains as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bracing himself to stand, but as he tried to stand, his knees apparently took offense to his efforts and gave out as soon as he stood up.

However, no sooner than he had closed his eyes and accepted his inevitable and graceless fall to the floor, large hands grabbed his shoulder and held him up. Merlin opened his eyes to see Percival effortlessly supporting his weight, with the other knights standing in the doorway and watching them.

“You ought to be more careful, Merlin. A fall like that could have done a lot of damage, especially in the state you’re in.”

Merlin pursed his lips at Percival’s well-meaning words. He didn’t want to be reminded of his ‘condition’ at every turn! As if the thought of it wasn’t already haunting his every waking moment!

However, Percival seemed to pick up on Merlin’s frustration and gently helped him upright, letting him find his own balance and only keeping a light hand under his arm for support if he needed it. Merlin appreciated the gesture.

“There he is!” Gwaine cheered from Gaius’s table as Merlin gingerly stepped out into the main room. To his surprise, all of the round table knights were present, crowded into the benches on either side of Gaius’s workbench, while Emrys and Arthur were nowhere to be seen.

“What are all of you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Emrys and Arthur, or busy training?”

All four of them turned to look at him with near-identical looks of confusion and incredulity. What, had he said something strange? The physician’s chambers weren’t exactly a popular spot for social gatherings. A beat of silence passed before Elyan spoke up.

“We’re here for you, Merlin. Surely you understand that, right?”

“Ah, I get it. Arthur put all of you on some sort of babysitting duty, is that it? I’m fine for now, you all don’t need to worry about me. You can all go whack each other over the head with swords now, or whatever you’re supposed to be doing this morning.”

The knights looked taken aback by his words, their expressions morphing into something close to horror.

“Merlin,” Leon spoke softly, his face looking oddly pained.

Why? He was useless, a nobody, without his magic. Why would they care?

“We’re all here because we care about you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, and while we’re all confident that Arthur and… your brother will find a cure for this curse, we’re still here to support you through this.”

Merlin bit back a sigh as the beginnings of tears pricked at his eyes.

“Regardless, if you want to help me, then you all should be helping my brother find a cure. He’s the only one who can actually do anything at this point anyways. Between the two of us, he’s the one who has any power to fix anything. ”

By this point, all of the knights had stood up, crowding around Merlin while he kept his gaze firmly fixed to the floor, unwilling to let them see the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. Why was he even telling them any of this? It wouldn’t… it wouldn’t change anything.

At the end of the day, for all the knights knew, he would still be Merlin. Clumsy, defenseless, powerless, useless Merlin.

It still felt nice, regardless, to finally be able to say such things – things he didn’t even want to admit to himself aloud.

“Merls…” Merlin glanced up, catching the devastated look on Gwaine’s face before turning his eyes back to the floor.

“Merlin, mate, you changed my life, you know that right? I spent years as a sell-sword who blew all of his money at taverns. One who fully believed that he would spend the rest of his miserable life like that. But you, you gave me everything. A home, a purpose, brothers in arms, a steady job, all of it. It wasn’t some fancy, earth-shaking magic that changed my life for the better, that gave me a reason to live. It was you.”

Tears now freely streamed down Merlin’s face as Gwaine spoke in a voice that was both comforting and unyielding in its conviction.

“If you hadn’t been here to protect my sister, I never would have reunited with her and found a purpose as a knight. I owe the life I have now to you, Merlin.”

“And if you hadn’t befriended Lancelot, I never would have had any reason to come to Camelot in the first place. I owe you as much as Elyan and Gwaine do.”

Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival had all pulled in close to him, wrapping him in a combined embrace as his body shook with barely held-back sobs. Why were they saying these things? Anyone would have done those things, Merlin wasn’t special.

Without his magic, he could never do anything.

Finally, Leon, who had been standing apart from the rest of them, spoke. But, unlike the others, his voice leaned more towards exasperated disbelief.

“Merlin, do you really believe that you haven’t changed all of Camelot for the better?”

Merlin’s shaking sobs stopped for a moment as he blinked at Leon in shock. What was he talking about? All of Camelot, that was ridiculous. Leon must have seen the surprise in Merlin’s eyes, since he sighed softly before continuing.

“You have to understand, before you came here, the knights were all expecting that Arthur would rule like Uther did, anticipating another reign of a king’s paranoia and being forced to carry out orders against the citizens of Camelot, the very people we were sworn to protect.”

Merlin jolted at Leon’s words, and a familiar defensiveness on Arthur’s behalf rushed through him.

“Arthur’s nothing like his father, you know that! Anyone with eyes can see that he’s a far more just ruler than Uther ever was!”

“Of course that was all plain for you to see, Merlin. You were the one who brought those traits out in him, who showed him how to reject the cruelty that Uther had trained into him from a young age. I’ve known Arthur for his entire life, so believe me when I say that you’re the reason he’s not a second Uther.”

Merlin shook his head. He did none of that, it was Arthur’s destiny to become a great and kind king all on his own. Merlin was just there to make sure no one killed him before he could fulfill that destiny.

“Even if you deny that Arthur’s change in character for the better was your influence, you cannot deny all that you have built here.”

“I don’t understand, what are you–”

“What Leon’s trying to say, Merls, is that you’re the reason we’re all here,” Gwaine said with his usual jovial tone having returned. He paused to give Merlin a small, sincere smile, the kind that he rarely ever showed.

“You’ve had brothers all along, Merlin. While we may not be powerful sorcerers who can solve every problem, we’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

And what could Merlin do in response to that other than weep freely into his brothers’ arms?

If Emrys were a cruel man, he might have enjoyed the way that Arthur squirmed nervously under his gaze from where he sat across the table.

Still, as vindictive as Emrys felt towards Camelot and the state of affairs of magic as a whole, he could not bring himself to direct his ire at Arthur. He never could.

Arthur, however, did not know that, which was something Emrys ought to address if he wanted to have any chance of making Arthur see him as Merlin and lifting this spell.

“You do not have to act so formally around me. If your threats yesterday weren’t enough to make me withdraw my assistance in healing Merlin, your lack of tact certainly won’t scare me away.”

That seemed to finally snap Arthur out of his anxious staring. He jolted up in his seat and blinked at Emrys, as if waking up from a daze. Emrys opened his mouth to make a joking remark on Arthur being the one who looked like a startled stoat this time, but stopped before the words left his mouth. It was Merlin who was Arthur’s friend, he had to remind himself. Emrys was at best a stranger to him and at worst a potential threat in Arthur’s eyes.

“Right. I apologize for my rudeness, I was just lost in thought. This whole situation has led to some… odd and disturbing revelations for me, to say the least.”

Emrys couldn’t help but smile ruefully at that. It made sense that Arthur would be so off-put by the abrupt realization that Merlin, his closest friend and confidant, was much closer to magic than he knew. Oh, if only he knew the truth.

“I know that this all must be so sudden for you, but please don’t hold it against Merlin. If he had told you about me from the start, he would have been in danger. He didn’t keep my existence a secret out of any malicious intent but out of necessity. After all, he didn’t have any more choice in having a warlock for a brother than I had in being born with my magic.”

Arthur looked almost sheepish at that. If Emrys didn’t know Arthur better than he knew himself, he would almost say that Arthur looked embarrassed.

“I understand that now. Again, I apologize for how rashly I acted yesterday. It… didn’t necessarily have everything to do with your appearance. It’s just– it’s difficult for me not to compare you and Merlin to myself and Morgana.”

It seemed that it was Emrys’s turn to blink in surprise. He hadn’t expected such a topic, but perhaps he should have seen it coming. At Emrys’s puzzled silence, Arthur continued, his voice shifting from morose to something akin to desperation.

“In spite of everything I’ve ever seen or been told about magic, you aren’t heartless. You… you genuinely seem to care about your brother and want the best for him. Hell, you even snuck into and saved a kingdom that would execute you on sight simply because your brother lived here. He is your family, and you’ve treated him as such, regardless of your magic.

So, if you have proven that it’s possible for those with magic to care about their families, that sorcerers are capable of love despite magic’s corruption, then why couldn’t Morgana do the same? She was a sister to me long before her true parentage was revealed, so if it was truly within her power to stay, to help me change Camelot for the better, why did she choose to betray Camelot?”

While it went unsaid, Emrys could clearly hear Arthur’s true question: Why did she betray me?

Emrys sighed deeply. Arthur had blamed magic for Morgana’s fall for so long, so realizing that it truly was her choice to attack Camelot with Morgause must be a difficult truth for him to swallow.

“In truth, I understand Morgana’s reasons better than most. She was afraid of both her own magic and of Uther, and with no one but Morgause to turn to, that fear ate her alive and made her as she is now.”

Arthur looked stricken at this, his expression pained. Emrys knew the regret in Arthur’s eyes well, he felt it with every attack Morgana brought down upon Camelot.

“Why didn’t she– I wouldn’t have attacked her, surely she knew that! She had to have known that!”

Emrys closed his eyes as a familiar wave of frustration rolled over him. He couldn’t hold Arthur’s optimism against him, but why couldn’t he understand that it wasn’t that simple for magic users? Arthur was always so quick to see the good in everyone, but sorcerers had to be more careful, more discerning than that. Any sorcerer living in Camelot especially had to be downright paranoid with whom they placed their trust, and any mistake in that would cost them their life.

As he was thinking of a response, an idea occurred to Emrys.

“Did she? Tell me Arthur, what if it had been Merlin? What if you had caught Merlin using magic during your father’s reign? Or what if he had been caught using it just a few days ago, before you learned that having magic isn’t always someone’s choice? How would you react to such a thing?”

He watched as Arthur’s face went from confusion to frustration and then settled on pensive and sombre.

“I… I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“What you have to understand is that, for those of us with magic, who we place our trust in is a matter of life and death. Every time someone finds out about our magic, especially in Camelot, we not only put our own lives at risk, but also the lives of our loved ones. Your father wasn’t above executing a sorcerer’s family, after all.”

Arthur grimaced, but there was a faint glimmer of defensiveness in his eyes, the same one that shone whenever he was faced with his father’s monstrosity. Emrys pressed his lips into a hard line at the sight. It seemed like he needed to hammer in his point just a bit more. Arthur absolutely could not walk away from this conversation without fully understanding why Merlin was forced to hide his magic from everyone, even Arthur.

“Arthur, be honest with yourself. Uther’s zealous hatred for magic outweighed anything else he might feel, including any love for Morgana. If anyone had caught Morgana with magic that she couldn’t control, Uther would have her thrown on a pyre the next day, and Gwen and Merlin would likely be beheaded right alongside her simply for being her friends. Citizens of Camelot have been executed for far less, and Morgana knew that.”

Filled with a familiar feeling of remorse and guilt at the thought of Morgana’s betrayal, Emrys lowered his eyes to the floor, memories and regrets clouding his vision.

“She was forced to watch each and every execution in that courtyard. The fact that her fear and paranoia warped her to such a degree was, sadly, the most likely outcome for anyone forced into that situation.”

“Then why did you turn out any different?”

Emrys’s head snapped up at Arthur’s question as Arthur leaned closer, staring at Emrys with scrutinizing eyes, like he was some grain report Arthur couldn’t quite add up.

“Huh?”

“You– You’re everything my father taught me that sorcerers are not. You’re powerful, clearly. Perhaps more powerful than Morgana herself. And yet, you aren’t like her. You claim that it was fear that warped her into what she is now, but you surely also suffered under a tremendous amount of terror growing up in Ealdor, with Camelot so close.

So how did you end up so different from all the other vengeful sorcerers targeting Camelot? I would chalk it up to Merlin’s presence in your life, but by your own account, you left Ealdor and didn’t see him for a few years. Why didn’t your magic corrupt you in that time, like it did to Morgana?”

Emrys smiled at the question, and an unexpected burst of fondness bloomed in his chest. This was something he never thought he would see: Arthur Pendragon asking genuine questions about magic not out of hostility, but instead wanting to learn more about it with an open mind. It gave Emrys such hope that he shared perhaps a bit more than he meant to.

“I told you before that I was born with the ability to use magic, yes?”

At Arthur’s nod, he continued.

“Well, what I didn’t explain was how unusual that is. While it isn’t unheard of for people to be born with magic and for it to develop later in their lives, as was the case with Morgana, I am… different. I was born with golden eyes. I was casting spells with nothing but my mind the day after my birth. I’m something of a freak of nature, even as far as warlocks go.”

Emrys huffed a dry, humorless laugh at his own description, as his usual feelings of self-loathing welled up again. When he had asked Gaius if he was a monster all those years ago, he already knew the answer.

“For years I searched for some explanation, both in Ealdor and beyond, for why I was born with this power. It wasn’t until I met a dragon, and later spoke with the druids, that I learned the truth. I was born this way because I had a destiny to fulfill, a mission given to me by the gods to achieve. At first I was… hesitant to accept such a destiny, but by the time I learned about all of this, fate was already in motion.”

A small, almost sympathetic smile grew on Arthur’s face. He looked at Emrys with something close to warmth in his eyes, the kind of look that he usually reserved for Merlin and that Emrys would only admit to himself that he had missed since splitting from Merlin.

“I must say, as odd as it sounds, that I understand your sentiment. As a prince, and now as a king, much of my life has been decided for me, either by my father or the duties of my station, and it has upset me and almost robbed me of joy in many ways. I cannot imagine how stifling a destiny ordained by forces even beyond this world must be. But I must ask, what is this destiny that you speak of?”

This time, a proud grin grew on Emrys’s face. Now this, this was something he would never tire of telling Arthur about.

“To put it simply, my destiny is to achieve peace. However, it’s a bit more complicated than that.

The druids’ prophecies stated that I would work to help and protect Camelot as a part of spreading peace. That was why I rejected the prophecies at first, because what citizen of Camelot would accept the help of a warlock?

But then, by the time I was told this, Merlin had already arrived in Camelot and was placed in your service, so I had little choice but to come to Camelot’s aid whenever it was under attack from magical threats. Admittedly, protecting Merlin was my primary motivation for protecting Camelot at first, but there was another part of the prophecy that tied me to Camelot as well.”

Arthur leaned forward across the table, his curiosity obviously piqued by Emrys’s mention of a connection to Camelot outside of Merlin. Emrys had to smother a grin at the sight, amused by the situation. If only he knew how connected Emrys really was to Camelot…

“And what would that be?”

“You might not believe me now, but please know that everything I’m about to tell you is the truth. I am not destined to bring peace to Albion alone. The druid prophecies that foretold my fate spoke of another man as well, the one who I would pledge my power to while he led Albion into a golden age of peace. According to those prophecies, I am but one half of a greater whole, and this man, the ones the druids call ‘The Once and Future King’, would be the one to complete me.”

Emrys looked at Arthur, whose brows were furrowed with deep concentration, with a soft, proud smile on his face. Surely Arthur was putting all the pieces together in his mind, and he would soon realize his destiny at long last–

“Wait, you mean to tell me that Merlin is a king of prophecy?!”

Arthur and Emrys looked at each other with matching expressions of utter bewilderment.

“What? No, I wasn’t talking about Merlin.”

“Are you certain? You two are twins, so it would make sense that he would be your ‘other half’ that these prophecies speak of. And, please do not repeat this to him, he is wise and kind and provides me with guidance that I cannot find anywhere else. I am certain that he would make a great king in his own right. Well, if he didn’t spend all his time in the tavern, that is.”

The far-away look in Arthur’s eyes as he was speaking faded as he seemed to realize that he was still speaking aloud, and he jolted back with a poorly-hidden look of embarrassment. Emrys hung his head with a tired groan. Even now, he had to spell out everything for the prat.

“No, Arthur, Merlin is not the Once and Future King. Can you truly not see it? You are the one I was talking about. You are the Once and Future King, the man destined to rule over all of Albion and unite the greatest kingdom the world has ever known under a banner of peace.”

Emrys couldn’t help but beam with pride as he told Arthur all of this, unveiled the destiny that he held so dear. He watched as Arthur’s expression morphed from shocked disbelief to confusion, then to awe, then back to confusion.

“It’s strange, I’ve heard those exact words before, except from Merlin. You even have the same look on your face as he did when he was telling me all this after I pulled Excalibur out of that stone.

But it doesn’t make any sense. You’d never even met me before yesterday, why would you… why would you have the same confidence in me as Merlin? Why do you look at me with the same faith in your eyes as he does? I don’t even know why he holds such great belief in me, much less you of all people.”

“Isn’t it obvious? You are not just the Once and Future King, but you are also Arthur. The royal prat who risked his life to save a servant after having known him for only a month. The clotpole who rode out to fight a dragon with nothing but a spear to save his people. A dollophead who has grown beyond the hatred and fear that his father spread throughout the land and has worked to give the druids a safe home. Why would I not place my faith in such a king?”

Arthur was blushing furiously by the time Emrys finished his speech. Perhaps he was laying it on a bit too thick, but those were his true feelings.

Slowly though, the embarrassment faded from Arthur’s face, leaving behind a soft sort of familiarity that Emrys couldn’t help but smile upon seeing. He was so mesmerized by the sight of it that he almost didn’t catch the next words that tumbled out of Arthur’s mouth.

“You know, when you said all of that, you sounded almost exactly like Merlin. When you speak of your view of me, it’s almost like you and Merlin… are one and the same.”

Emrys’s eyes widened with shock at Arthur’s words a split second before the world around him was swallowed in a blinding light.

And then, Emrys knew no more.

Arthur’s heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted through the castle, his feet guiding him on memory alone as his mind ran faster than his legs could ever carry him.

All he had been doing was telling Emrys how similar he seemed to his brother, and then the sorcerer just disappeared in a flash of light! No warning, no farewell, nothing!

Such an urgent departure from Emrys could only mean one thing: something had happened to Merlin, and Arthur had to get to the physician’s chambers now.

He couldn’t be too late, not after everything.

Arthur’s mind conjured up images of the worst case scenario– Merlin, cold and dead and far beyond his reach– as he sprinted up the staircase to Gaius’s tower. When he slammed the chamber’s door open with far more force than he intended, he was met with a sight that had his heart leaping into his throat with alarm: Merlin, pale and gasping for air, laid out on a patient’s cot as the knights hovered around him frantically.

What was most disturbing about the sight, however, was the golden glow in the air around Merlin, which seemed to be pulling closer to him and settling into his skin. And, strangely, Emrys was nowhere to be found.

“What’s happening to him?!” Arthur barked, shoving Percival and Leon aside to rush to Merlin’s cot.

“We don’t know, princess! We were just talking with him, and all of a sudden he passes out and starts glowing! Is Emrys doing something to him?”

“This might be Emrys’s doing, but he disappeared while I was talking to him just a moment ago, and I haven’t seen him since. Either way, whatever is happening to him seems to be the product of magic, so unless any of you are secretly sorcerers, there’s not much we can do but wait.”

Arthur had, of course, spoken with sarcasm when he asked his knights if any of them were sorcerers, so he was rather taken aback when Percival sheepishly put up his hand.

“Percival, what are you–”

“I may not be a sorcerer proper, but I was raised by the druids for several years. I can usually guess what kind of spell or magic is being used if I get close enough to feel it. I can tell that the magic that’s around Merlin right now is helping him, somehow. It feels friendly and it feels like Emrys’s magic, at the very least. But, as Arthur said, there’s nothing we can do at this point besides wait.”

Arthur was sure that he looked like a fool, staring at Percival slack-jawed, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. How many people in his life had connections to magic that he hadn’t known about? Because this was quite frankly getting ridiculous!

“Percy, mate, please tell me you’re just pulling our legs here,” Gwaine groaned, even though all of them knew that the gentle giant’s words were dead serious.

Percival simply shrugged at that, looking only slightly self-conscious as everyone’s eyes bored into him. Well, everyone’s eyes except Arthur’s, whose gaze was still fixed firmly on Merlin.

It felt like an eternity, watching the golden light slowly gather near Merlin’s skin, seeping into his body. But, as the light around him dimmed, his skin gained its color back, and his breathing got steadier.

All of them watched with bated breath as the last of the light disappeared. Was it done? Had whatever magical cure Emrys was using worked?

One beat passed with no movement from Merlin besides the slow rise and fall of his chest. Then two.

Then, finally, Merlin groaned and opened his eyes. Arthur let out a joyful laugh at the sight as the knights cheered behind him.

“Come on now, up you get, you lazy daisy!”

Merlin turned his head towards him, a familiar teasing smile gracing his face.

“Hey, that’s my line!”

“Then you’ll have to get out of bed and take it from me, I suppose.”

Gwaine and Elyan rushed to Merlin’s side as he sat up in the cot and shakily stood up, his legs still trembling slightly.

“Ha! See who’s the lazy daisy now!”

“Alright, alright, I suppose you aren’t the lazy one today. But still, how are you feeling? Did… whatever your brother did to you work?”

His heart felt light with relief as Merlin beamed at him, but there was something there, a hesitance that Arthur couldn't quite understand.

“Yup! Emrys found a cure and saved me, but he left to make sure that no one would mistake me for a sorcerer. But don’t worry,” Merlin’s smile turned almost wistful as he spoke, his gaze unfocused, as if lost in thought.

“I’m sure you’ll meet him again some day.”

One day several years in the future, Merlin finally confessed his magic to Arthur, and Arthur finally realized why Emrys’s faith in him felt so familiar. On that day, Arthur looked into Merlin’s golden eyes, and found them to be the most natural thing in the world.

And, on that day, Arthur had but one thing to say to Merlin:

“A twin brother? Really, that was the best lie you could come up with? Seriously Merlin, it was a miracle you managed to keep your magic a secret as long as you did.”

“Well it’s not like you ever figured it out on your own, you prat!”

“Don’t call me a prat you dollophead!”

“I’ll call you a prat because that’s what you are!”

“Why you– get back here! Merlin!”