A Master of Two Servants: Morgana uses the fomorroh to manipulate Arthur into hunting down and killing Emrys. Little do they know the man they are both searching for is much closer than they think … AU of 4x06, 'A Servant of Two Masters'.

Warnings: gore and violence. Spoilers up to and for 4x06, 'A Servant of Two Masters'.

Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine. It belongs to the BBC and Shine.

A Master of Two Servants

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Having another's memories was, Merlin decided, as peculiar as it sounded. While his own memories were the brightest and clearest, he could call upon memories of the Eternal War, fought thousands of years ago, in an instant if he so wished.

It was disorientating, but that was not the worst part. The Eternal War had been a horrific time for all of Albion, and the memories that lingered from it were far worse than the stories Merlin had heard. And so while Arthur busied himself away from the castle for the day (doing something completely safe, Brangaine reassured him, though she would not reveal exactly what), Merlin sought his own solution, hoping that having a single mind, with his own memories, would help him to deal with the problem that had arisen between him and Arthur.

Gauis and Brangaine recommended the Crystal Cave. Begrudgingly, Merlin arranged to go while Arthur, away from Camelot, had no need of him.

He found the cave more easily than he expected, almost as though it were expecting him. Merlin lingered outside and tried to reign in his magic, in futile hope that the crystals would not react to his presence and show him some undesirable future. With some reluctance, he forced himself inside.

A menacing blue glow greeted him.

Cautiously, Merlin made his way to the center of the cave, a small patch clear of crystals. Although blue glow surrounding him flickered, nothing appeared in front of him. Merlin gathered his courage and reached out for the nearest crystal.

His father appeared in front of him.

"Father," Merlin whispered in surprise. A sudden well of emotion surged inside of his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I have been sent to guide you," Balinor said, smiling. "I know what it is that you seek, Merlin."

Merlin sighed. "I hate having another's memories. I was hoping that the Crystal Cave could offer me a solution. The Eternal War was a brutal time."

Balinor took a seat on a nearby boulder, where there were no crystals. "Our ancestors fought in the war. Perhaps you see it?"

Merlin had had a hard time sorting through the memories, but the elation of riding a dragon was distinguishable among the tangle of violent visions. He felt as though he was there, watching the young dragon burn a league of soldiers. It made him feel sick.

"That is not a true use of our powers, surely?" Merlin asked.

"You can learn a great deal about the Dragonlords of old from the Eternal War," Balinor replied. "Although I do not like the methods myself, I do agree that the type of warfare you may be more familiar with now was certainly useful–and may still be in the future, should you ever call upon it."

"I don't think I will."

"Perhaps not. Your future is not yet decided."

"So it is not my destiny to fight alongside dragons?"

"Destiny is changeable."

"I thought Arthur and I were to unite the land of Albion," Merlin said, the words a familiar beacon of hope that he had clung to during the hardest of times.

"That you shall do one day," Balinor reassured him. "But there are many paths leading to that outcome. Some are less desirable than others."

Merlin glanced worriedly at the crystals. If he reached out and manipulated his power, perhaps he would be able to view their paths. He didn't doubt that he would encounter Mordred. Perhaps he would encounter hatred of magic, a rebellion from the people afraid of what a sorcerer by the king's side could do. Perhaps he could prepare himself.

The last time Merlin had tried to tamper with the visions he'd been presented with, it had not gone as well as he'd hoped.

"I think I should leave," Merlin murmured apologetically.

"Do not worry. The visions will remain at bay until I leave."

"You said you're here to guide me?"

"Yes."

"I want to know how I can get rid of the memories," Merlin said. "From the Eternal War."

Although Balinor did not look surprised, he didn't seem to support the statement. "Like I said, you can learn a great deal from the Eternal War–lessons that you will undoubtedly need in the future."

"Is there going to be a war?"

Balinor's sadness was enough of an answer.

"There has to be some other path. I won't–" Merlin made the decision too quickly, almost without thinking. He reached out for one of the crystals, gripping it so tightly that his healing burn throbbed. Nothing happened. "I have to know!"

"I have been sent by the Triple Goddess," Balinor revealed warily. "I do not like what they ask of you."

"They believe that with the memories of the souls from the Eternal War, they can educate many away from the path of war. But in exchange for the memories, they wish to show you what your own actions could one day cause."

"If they wish to educate people against war, I don't see why I shouldn't give them–"

"I believe that this action," Balinor interrupted. "Will lead to the consequence I am forced to show you. You must be sure of your decision."

Merlin sighed. "Argante said a similar thing–that I had to be sure what I was doing when I agreed to destroy the Mirror."

"You should not be swayed by the Triple Goddesses' end of the bargain. Sometimes, not knowing what lies ahead of you works out in your favor."

"I'm not so sure," Merlin replied.

"I see your decision is made."

"I made it long before I arrived."

"I am told to remind you that these memories are not only an asset to the Triple Goddess," Balinor said. "You have a use of them you cannot even begin to image. The High Priests and Priestesses that fought in the Eternal War are favored as some of the greatest leaders in Albion's history. They knew how to combine man-made weaponry with powerful magic and how to use creatures of magic to their strategic advantage. This is something that Arthur does not yet understand. The Triple Goddess will not rid you of these memories without you first knowing their value."

"I understand. I know that they are valuable. But I believe there are other ways to fight a war where mortal weapons and magic fight side be side, and I believe Arthur and I can find a new way to fight with all the weapons at our disposal, even those that we are unfamiliar with," Merlin explained. "I understand what I am agreeing to."

"Very well," Balinor said. "I will not try to convince you otherwise. But Merlin, please understand that what you see is not determined. Morgana's defeat has allowed you more freedom over your destiny, although your actions now will have great bearing on what is to come."

Merlin made sure he would remember those words. He knew it was time to give up his knowledge of the Eternal War. The past was worth learning from, but it had been and gone. It was the future that he must think of now.

"Will I see you again?" Merlin asked.

"I am always with you," Balinor said kindly.

"I don't want to leave."

"A great destiny awaits you, Merlin. I believe that you are ready to face it."

Merlin smiled. "Then… I'm ready to be rid of these memories."

Balinor held out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Merlin took it.

The blue light of the cave intensified until he could see nothing. The last thing he heard was, "Goodbye, son."

"Merlin? Merlin," Arthur was saying. It must have been him shaking Merlin. "Tell me you haven't been sleeping in here?"

Merlin blinked at him. Had he been asleep? "No, I'm not–"

In the dim light–it must have been well into the night and only a few torches were lit–Merlin finally saw Arthur's face. Arthur was older, at least ten years older than the Arthur he had left in Camelot. There was a wisdom and aged tiredness in his eyes that had not been there before.

Merlin realized suddenly that the king he had imagined, the Once and Future King, was the one that was crouched in front of him.

"I wasn't asleep," Merlin said again.

"Of course not," Gwaine snorted from somewhere across the tent.

Merlin realized know they were in one of the tents the knights of Camelot commonly took to the battlefield. Outside, he could hear the clamor of men around campfires, the familiar wariness of the eve of battle, where men believed themselves drinking their last tankards of ale.

Percival, it seemed, had walked in tent just in time to catch Merlin 'sleeping.'

"Someone had a bit too much ale, have they?" Percival joked good-naturedly, taking a seat between Gwaine and Leon at the small replica of the Round Table across the tent from where he was apparently asleep on the floor.

Arthur chuckled and pulled Merlin to his feet. He smiled at Merlin.

"Don't worry," Arthur said, patting him on the shoulder. "We've only just arrived."

Merlin had expected Arthur to be angry–the Arthur he currently knew probably would have been. But this Arthur, Camelot's insightful king of the future, forgave him easily.

Arthur took his seat, although there were empty chairs on either side of him. It didn't seem to surprise anyone when Merlin took the seat directly to Arthur's right.

"Now, who are we waiting for?"

"Elyan," Leon supplied.

It seemed to be a meeting of the smaller Round Table, the one they had first formed during their absence from Camelot during Morgana's first taking of power. However, Gwen and Gauis were missing. Although there were two extra seats. If one was for Elyan, who could the other be for? Perhaps Gwen or Gauis?

"Don't worry," Elyan said as he stepped into the tent. "We're both here."

Merlin didn't pay much notice to the 'we' until a second figure followed Elyan into the tent.

Mordred.

Mordred wore armor and a Camelot cloak, but Merlin could almost feel the magic rolling off him. His eyes were gold as he entered the tent. A few more of the torches came to life. In the brighter light, there was no escaping the truth; Mordred was really there, not just a trick of Merlin's imagination.

"Saved you a job there, Merlin," Mordred said as he took the empty seat to Arthur's left.

Arthur, who was laughing at Mordred's joke. He looked happy to see the young… knight?

"Well, now that everyone's here," Arthur announced. "We will resume this session from earlier today. Leon, I believe you were notifying us of a alternative path to the one we had originally considered."

"Yes, sire. The path gives us more direct access to the battlefield. From the top of the path, not only would we be able to gather a sizable amount of men in a position to stop the enemy from escaping, but we could have a clear view of the entirety of Camlann also."

Camlann. It was the eve of Camlann.

They continued talking, but Merlin didn't hear a thing. The name Camlann held a significance he couldn't yet grasp with his current memories.

As the great horn sounds a cold dawn at Camlann,

The prophets do not lie,

There, Arthur will meet his end,

Upon that mighty plain.

It wasn't Merlin's memory–or at least, it wasn't a memory he had in the time he had come from. But it seemed of such great importance that he promised to cling to it even when he escaped this strange prophecy.

Something wrong, Emrys?

Merlin hated that voice. It was the same one that had promised, all those years, to never forget and to never forgive.

Oh, come on. Your childish games can't continue forever, Emrys. You'll have to talk to me at some point. And I fully intend for you to beg for my mercy tomorrow.

"You traitor!" Merlin said. The words came involuntarily, before he even processed what Mordred's words meant.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured carefully, getting to his feet.

"Mordred," Merlin hissed. "Get out. I order it. Get out."

"Sire?" Mordred questioned confusedly. "Should I go?"

"No. You stay," Arthur ordered.

"Get out!" Merlin screamed.

"I apologize, my lord," Mordred said to Merlin, bowing his head. "But I cannot disobey the orders of my king."

"Arthur, listen to me," Merlin said desperately. "He's going to kill you."

Arthur did not look surprised. He looked tired. Wearily, he dragged a hand over his face. "Merlin, we have discussed this many times."

Not that Merlin remembered. But he wouldn't, would he?

"And we came to the conclusion that what the Triple Goddess showed you in the Crystal Cave was merely one path we have not followed," Arthur said calmly. "Do not forget, my friend, the pains we have gone to in order to ensure that those with magic can enjoy knighthood without fear of being outcast by their peers. You endanger that now."

"His presence is a danger to you!"

"Merlin." Gwaine stood. "Arthur is not in danger."

"'As the great horn sounds a cold dawn at Camlann, the prophets do not lie; there, Arthur will meet his end, upon that mighty plain,'" Merlin quoted.

"Merlin, surely you remember," Arthur urged. "Gauis deemed the letter a prop to distract you. Mordred confirmed that Finna was once an ally of Morgana's."

"Because he was one an ally of Morgana's! Don't you remember that?"

"We have long since put Mordred's previous allegiances behind us."

"You fool!" Merlin shouted, and was as taken aback by his own words as Arthur appeared to be.

The knights watching the argument looked concerned. The worry was mirrored by Arthur.

"Perhaps I should fetch the physician?" Leon suggested.

"No," Mordred said suddenly, holding up a hand to the knight and standing. "Sire, if I may, I don't believe that this is anything to worry about. Merlin has seen one battle to many, that's all. We have the upper hand already and there is no chance of our defeat tomorrow. I believe it would benefit Lord Merlin if he was not in attendance."

"Mordred is well qualified to take his place," Gwaine agreed.

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, I think they're right."

"What? No!" Merlin reached out to grab Arthur's arm, to make him see sense, but the world tipped sideways the moment he touched Arthur's chainmail.

Then suddenly, it was someone's hand on his arm. Mordred stood beside him on the shore of Avalon, watching as a boat floated across the serene lake.

The king is dead. Long live the queen.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Mordred said. "Truly. Perhaps if you'd have been there, things would be different."

Merlin couldn't say anything past his grief.

"However, Camelot lives on," Mordred continued. He smiled. "And she calls. Come. We have great things to accomplish."

And, numb with the pains of his losses, Merlin followed Mordred all the way back to Camelot, where the tall walls of the citadel no longer felt like home.

Merlin gasped into wakefulness. The Crystal Cave was dark and empty. He was alone.

A/N: sorry for the wait. Feedback much appreciated :)

Guest: I believe some parts of destiny are pre-decided, like Morgana's turning against Camelot, but the actions and consequences that cause these events are still changeable. For example, in 'The Crystal Cave', Morgana attempting to kill Uther was already going to happen, no matter what Merlin did. However, the lead-up to the actual event was slightly different to what Merlin had first seen, so I believe this is the case with most things: that although some things are always going to happen, the way they eventually happen is always going to be different.