Chapter Text
Everything had been perfectly normal, until it wasn't. Arthur at first had only noticed a sudden strong breeze in the room. Then he heard Mordred yell, along with the surprised yells and screams of his court. Gwen stood at his side and he turned in time to see Mordred, closely followed by Gwaine and Percival, dive at a vanishing whirlwind.
"Sorcerer! Knights, at arms!" Arthur bellowed.
"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled. "Dammit!"
Mordred stood where the whirlwind was, breathing heavily. He looked around the room, his eyes caught on the only other one in the room whose expression of dread matched his.
The knights stood ready for battle, the court stood together nervously, but nothing more happened.
First Arthur sent the knights in groups to scour the castle, but they found nothing. He heard no word of man-servants appearing alive or dead, and no word of sudden errant sorcerer attacking. He stated to send out small search parties into the surrounding country. He had to be careful, he wasn't sure this wasn't an attempt to get him away from Camelot or weaken its defenses.
Mordred slipped into the Physician's chambers. "Gaius..." The old man looked up. "I know you're looking for him. Let me help."
Gaius watched him for a long moment, then beckoned him over. "You know how important it is... Thank you, young Mordred."
Mordred nodded quickly. They used almost every location spell they could think of or find in Gaius's old books.
Nothing worked.
Arthur grew desperate. He paced in his room. Gwen sat near him, offering suggestions and comfort. Then she said, "There might be another way."
Arthur looked at her.
"You would, I mean we would, have to change our way of thinking about some things..."
"Guinevere."
"Mordred used to live as a druid. He may know someone who could find Merlin." Arthur frowned. He watched her steady gaze, then looked at the ground.
"With magic."
"Yes, Arthur. With magic." She said, calm and steady and warm in his turmoil.
"I've seen magic do great evil." He said. "But I know the druids to be both peaceful and sorcerous." Gwen nodded. "I... I will ask."
Mordred blinked at Arthur. He didn't know what to say at first.
"Are you alright, Mordred?" Arthur asked. He tried to keep his voice regal, no weakness will show right now during his compromise with magic, no matter that Gwen, Gaius and Mordred were the only ones present.
Gaius was giving him a bewildered look as well.
"I. There's" Mordred glanced at Gaius. "There's a crystal, the crystal of Neahtid. It can be used to find him."
"The crystal lies locked in Camelot's vaults." Arthur said, and nodded. "Do you know any druid who can use it? Who would be willing to help."
"Sire ,most any druid--" Mordred shut up. He took a deep breath and said before Arthur could question him, or ask him to continue, "I can."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. After a long moment, Mordred beginning to fidget, he said, "Of course you can... What do you need?"
"Only the crystal, sire."
The crystal was retrieved from the vaults and Mordred gazed into it. He saw—
Heard—
Felt—
Smelled a flash of images and cold blue eyes.
"Sire," Mordred gasped, tearing his eyes away. "Sire, Merlin is," The word were hard to find. The concept entirely foreign to him. ”Merlin lives… He exists as he did here, but more than a thousand years from now.”
_-o0O0o-_
Merlin was snatched out of court and dropped as abruptly as he was grabbed.
He scrambled to his feet and tripped over the new area that he was in. He didn’t recognize it or the odd man with metal on his mouth. The man was sickly pale and sweating. He staggered for moment but righted himself. He looked like he had not slept in a very long time.
Merlin demanded to know where he was, who the stranger was, and what he thought he was doing?!
The man rolled his eyes and pointed to the metal on his mouth. Merlin frowned, an inch of concern growing in his chest despite himself, but he tensed when he reached into his jacket. He pulled out a tiny hard looking thing, a case, Merlin guessed.
But the strange man didn’t open it; he poked it repeatedly with the fingers of one hand while holding it in the other. Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, baffled. He backed away when the box was held out to him.
The surface of it glowed with light, and Merlin let curiosity get the better of him and edged forward for a closer look. In the light he saw words. The letters were mostly familiar and he read slowly, mouthing.
My apologies for the rough treatment, young magician, I am not in possession of the control I used to have. However, I am in need of your assistance. Will you help me?
Merlin sighed. “You just pulled me out of the air in front of all of Camelot. That was incredibly foolish.”
The man started to poke the box again. It was a curious way of communicating, though Merlin supposed it was faster than scribbling on a scroll when you couldn’t speak.
Fear not, none from that magic hating land can find us here. You are safe from danger or duty for now.
Merlin could have dropped his head into his hands from exasperation. He let out a rough sound of irritation instead. “Fine. I assume you want that metal mast removed?”
The man’s eyes curled like he was smiling and he nodded. He held out the box again:
Thank you. You may call me Loki. You will be rewarded.
_-o0O0o-_
Arthur was pacing and broiling. Mordred was a little nervous, but Arthur’s rage seemed to be placed solely on the kidnapping sorcerer.
“That idiot! How do you even get kidnapped to a time that doesn’t exist yet!”
And Merlin.
Arthur turned to him again. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sorry your majesty.”
“We can’t leave him there… then.” Mordred shook his head.
“We can’t. He must be brought back.” The cold blue eyes came to his mind again. Arthur resumed his pacing. Gaius sighed. Gwen hummed. Finally Arthur stopped and whirled back to Mordred.
“Is there any way you know to do this?”
“It didn't even strike me as an ability within the realm of possibility until today. Sire… do not—It is not the end. Spells, they can be invented.”
Arthur turned to Gaius, who nodded. “I fear there is no other way. By magic done, by magic it must be undone.”
“Invent your spell, then.”
_-o0O0o-_
Gwen and Arthur entered the small physician’s chambers were Mordred and Gaius had been working. “I must say, I am awestruck with the speed of your spell creation. I hadn’t realized it would be so easy.”
Mordred looked up and blushed. Arthur’s tone took the same level of sarcasm he had adopted as of late whenever he was talking of magic and its usefulness, but he sounded genuinely impressed.
“Well, sire,” Gaius said, rising slowy and ushering the royal couple to sit. “We did cheat, just a bit.”
Gwen’s eyebrow rose. Arthur tilted his head. “Cheated?” He said “How do you cheat at this?”
“It’s incredibly—” Mordred coughed. “Somewhat entertainingly impossible to explain.”
“I bid you attempt it.” Arthurs said, his voice dry.
“We used the crystal again. To see the future, where we already knew the spell we need.” Gwen frowned. Arthur shook his head.
“Wait, what?”
“It was the only thing we could think to do. Research gave nothing even close to what we would need to travel through time as though it were a road. I doubt that a more expansive library would have helped.”
“But,” Gwen said, hand out as though she could grasp the answer out of the air. “Where then does the knowledge come from?”
“Ourselves!” Gaius said, quite proud. “You see, sire, your highness—”
“Gwen, Gaius, please,” Gwen said automatically, looking bewildered.
“My apologies. The knowledge comes from ourselves! “ Arthur looked from Gaius to Mordred; both looked very pleased with themselves.
“I don’t get it.” They looked at Gwen. She shook her head politely.
“Do you see it? Because we made it so, it had to be so. Because it happened.” Mordred said, expression earnest and willing them to understand. Arthur shook his head again, starting to look the very beginning of irritated.
“Because it happened, it had to happen,” Gaius tried. “And because it had to happen, we saw it happen.”
“You’re all mad. You cannot possibly get something from nothing.”
“No, Arthur, I think I may get it?” Gwen said. “I mean, sort of. It’s like a self-fulfilling prophesy isn’t it? Because you saw it happen in the future, you caused it to happen.” Arthur threw his arms up in the air.
“Insane witchcraft, I get it. Now that you have conjured up a spell, what do we do? Can you summon him?”
Mordred glanced at Gaius “No, sire, we cannot do that.”
“So, we go and get him.” Mordred nodded. “Then geon. I will go. Mordred, you will accompany me. Guinevere…” He took her hand. “I need you to rule Camelot in my absence.”
Gwen nodded solemnly and pressed a kiss to his lips. She pulled an embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and tied it gently around Arthur’s arm. “Go safely and return to me.”
“I will. Mordred, begin the spell.”
Mordred does the spell and Arthur finds himself sprawled on cold hard ground. He stays very still for a moment, dizzy, and then hears:
“Oh, no…” Gwen said.
Arthur sits bolt upright. Gwen is sitting near him, looking frazzled. Mordred is lying on the ground, quite unconscious. Arthur checks on him, but he is breathing normally and seems, other than exhausted, healthy.
“Is he alright?”
“Yes, I think that spell exhausted him.” He glanced worried at Gwen. She tried to smile soothingly at him.
“Let me watch over him. Take Excalibur and see if Merlin is nearby.” Arthur quirked and eyebrow.
“I do like the way you think, Guinevere.”
“Oh!” She covered her mouth with a shocked hand. “Arthur!”
Arthur crept about the area carefully. There were buildings around him, made of some very small cut stone, rough to the touch. They were very well made building by his guess, but not well maintained. The floor was some massive flat stone, rough and dark grey, covered in garbage and smelling like the back of a tavern. There was no roof above him but he could see the beginnings of roofs on the other sides of both walls. He would guess he was between buildings, but that the ground wasn’t dirt or cobblestone.
There was no Merlin. There seemed only to be some older gentleman, slumped against the wall and nursing something that smelled quite strong. Not that much had changed in a thousand years then.
Arthur dared not leave Gwen alone for long however and returned. Mordred was awake and attempting to sit up with help.
“Mordred, you were not supposed to bring the queen on our quest.”
“Sorry sire. I think there may have been a mistake…” He fell back again, asleep.
_-o0O0o-_
Loki led Merlin to a seedy inn passing the ‘phone’, as he learned it was called, back and forth.
I do not think this mask will be easily removed. We might as well be comfortable. Your coat is thin, and I do not think you talk to the winters of Midgard’s New York.
Merlin nodded reluctantly, pulling his jacket tighter. “Where is Midgard and New york?”
Midgard is my—Merlin read over Loki’s shoulder. He paused in writing. Midgard is the Asgardian name for the world where mortal humans dwell. Camelot is in Midgard. New York is across the ocean from Camelot.
Merlin raised his eyebrows, impressed. “And you used your magic to bring us across the ocean?”
Loki nodded, then gestured for Merlin to hold out is hand. He put strips of paper-cloth in Merlin’s hand, all of them the same dirty greenish color.
This is money, the phone read. Talk to that woman. Ask for a room and hand her the money.
Merlin nodded, used to, at least, procuring rooms in taverns and inns. He was grateful to be in from the eerie glowing dark and dry frigid air.
The woman behind the bar table gave his clothing a funny look, but accepted the money easily enough. She handed over the keys and didn’t even seem to notice anyone else but Merlin. Loki followed him, silent as a ghost, upstairs.
Merlin went to work trying everything he knew short of explosive spells to remove the mask. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, smooth and polished like armor, sealed shut with no sign of clasp or tie. It hummed with magic, and something else. Something he didn’t understand. He told Loki as much when he made no headway.
They call it technology, but it is merely more advanced magic.
Merlin made a face part frustration, part sulking. “I don’t know more advanced magic.” He growled. Loki’s shoulders shook with mute laughter. (Merlin wondered if the mask somehow cancelled sound.)
Little warlock, you are the most powerful magic on this world.
Merlin stood abruptly and stalked away. “So I’ve heard.” He said. “Doesn’t much feel like it.” Loki stood slowly and walked over. He was very tall, Merlin noticed, not for the first time. Taller than him, and he had a good height on most.
Loki put a thin fingered hand on his shoulder and led him back to sit. He held the phone an arm’s length away in front of Merlin.
You are young. There is time yet to learn all you will to know. Let me suggest some spells. I will teach you.
A thought struck Merlin. “You are able to do magic with that on. Why don’t you?”
I am not healthy, as you noticed. Loki quirked an eyebrow at Merlin.
To do magic is my natural element. With this, it becomes hard. Exhausted from travel and from bringing you here, deeply challenging. Without words? Impossible.
“You should have saved your energy then and not done such flashy magic.”
Then cast perhaps a spell or two before I was exhausted too much for anything? I cannot do this alone. I need your help Merlin.
Merlin sighed. “Your spells, then.”
Loki typed out the spells on his phone. He explained that they were phonetic pronunciations. Then he explained that phonetic meant by sound.
Merlin had to practice them before he had the spell right, but it came to him much faster than it used to years ago.
Still, even the advanced spells did nothing to the mask. Through Merlin’s mounting frustration, Loki stayed eerily calm. He merely taught him another spell, let him practice, let him try. Then finally, declared it a night.
We both must rest. I would prefer not to gain freedom only to drop from exhaustion.
Merlin wanted to be done with it, but he knew Loki was not a healthy man. His training rose to the surface now as he watched Loki lie back on one of the two small beds, on top of the covers. His hands folded over his stomach as though he slept in a tomb, not an inn. It was creepy, Merlin thought.
His face was greyish, pallid, and shone with sweat. He had bags under his eyes like bruises, and his skin seemed thin over his face and fingers. Merlin had already noted his slow pace and often uneven breathing. He was much sicker than Merlin thought when they first met. He felt a pang of concern and wished he had been paying attention to this earlier. He decided tomorrow, before the mask, he would see to Loki’s illness.
“In the morning, then.” He said absently, delayed. Loki smiled under his mask.
Merlin woke when the sun from the window hit his face. He sat up, a little confused about the softness of his bed and the warmth of his room. Then the quality of his room. This situation came back to him quickly, but he realized now that he had been too distracted to take in a lot more than just Loki’s health. (He glanced at the other bed. Loki was breathing in an out. He looked more feverish that the night before, but alive.)
Deciding that he would let Loki sleep a little longer, Merlin walked over to the window and looked out at this kingdom of New York at dawn. Merlin forgot how to breathe.
A beep caught his attention, and Merlin turned to see Loki, still prostrate on the bed, holding up the phone.
Technology and magic is a marvel, is it not? I could show you places that would put this to shame.
“What is this New York… I have never seen so many buildings in my life, certainly none of them all in one place. And so tall. Do they grow like trees?”
We are in the city. The towns aren’t so busy.
Merlin shook his head. “That’s not… I mean, how?” He felt giddy and scared all at once, and shook head in frustration. “Is this what a kingdom is like when it welcomes magic?”
Do not assume what you know is privy to all. Most of these humans hardly believe magic, even when it stares them in the eye. They are an ignorant kind, who believes only in technology.
“But you said—” Loki held up a hand, then his phone.
Magic that they, with their limited imagination, can reason away.
“They don’t believe in magic?” Loki shook his head, coolly amused. He typed a new message as Merlin watched the early risers and late returners walk the streets.
Shall we begin, Merlin?
“Yes.. Yes, of course. I wanted to see to your health first. I worked as a physician from time to time. Though I suppose you would know that, knowing all that you do.”
It comes as a surprise. Do proceed.
Merlin had his strip down to his waist after affirming there were no wounds to be infected below. Loki’s torso was as thin skinned and sweaty as his face. He didn’t feel warm though. Nor were there any open wounds. Merlin did see signs of recently healed injuries.
Merlin frowned, brow creasing. His first assumption had been that Loki was suffering from an infection, leading to a fever and eating away at his health. He wasn’t sure how to continue now that he saw no signs of infection or fever.
That he had some sickness came to mind, but that would also lead to fever to have him sweating so much.
An internal injury could be causing him pain, and that could lead to sweating, Merlin thought. It was no small blessing that it wasn’t infected, if that were the case.
“Do you feel any strong pain, perhaps around your abdomen?” he asked finally. Loki held up his phone.
I have recovered most of my injuries, I believe.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added to his message.
I have not given my health much thought, my freedom being more important to me, or I may have been able to tell you what ails me immediately.
Merlin quirked an eyebrow, looking unknowingly rather like Gaius. Priorities.
I cannot do magic easily like this, much less unconsciously. Cast a strong spell of cooling on me. You’ll find my improvement timely.
“You’re not feverish, not even warm.” Merlin said slowly, purposefully like he was talking to an errant child. “If I chill you like this you’ll get worse.”
I am not human, foolish magician. Loki typed, irritation in his eyes and on his brow. Don’t assume the same remedies or ailments.
Merlin’s other eyebrow joined the first. “And you didn’t think this would be a good thing to mention at the beginning?”
Loki shrugged, angry suddenly gone. He held out his phone. I am a Frost Giant, was his only reply. Well, that explained his height, Merlin thought.
While Merlin wasn’t sure that Loki was in his right mind, it seemed to fit that he was feverish, just feverish for a man with a cold body heat. In fact, he had seen some similar symptoms in the nights suffering from heatstroke. He cast the spell.
Loki looked healthier, and a little bluer, in moments. He was sitting up straighter, and his eyes no longer shone quite so bright.
There you have it, Merlin.
Merlin sighed. “I don’t think you should be so certain that I am your salvation.”
Are you not salvation of everything magic?
Merlin’s face went stony and blank. “It certainly makes people feel better to assume so, no matter what seems to actually happen.” He muttered, then said louder, “Do you have another spell to try?”
Loki did. He seemed an endless well of knowledge, perfectly willing to teach.
You feel burdened, don’t you? I know the impossible weight of purpose.
And listen.