Summary: Merlin is woken by a mysterious voice warning him of danger, but he's too late. The King is gone; taken in the night by an unknown force. It is up to him, Arthur and the rest of the Round Table to pick up the pieces and find their King, but as they embark on yet another journey across the realms; as the fragile peace of the love triangle threatens to break and tensions arise; as they draw closer to the perils and tests awaiting them, they all must ask themselves: how high a price are they willing to pay, for the King's life?

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance/Adventure

Warning: Series 3 Spoilers, Eventual slash

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters; they belong to the BBC, sadly...

Hello Merlin readers! This is my first Merlin fanfiction, so constructive criticism is very welcome! As are reviews :) I got the idea for this story in a dream (one of my best dreams ever), and have been developing it over the past couple of weeks so that it makes enough sense to be published. This takes place after Series 3, and won't contain any OC pairings. Without further ado, hope you enjoy! :)

All For a King

Chapter One - A Stranger in Camelot

Market day dawned bright and sunny in the kingdom of Camelot, the sun continuing to shine throughout the day. Knights and nobles of Camelot moved amongst the ordinary men, women and children, most heading instinctively for the shaded stalls. The noise was almost overwhelming with so many people shouting to be heard, and to make matters worse it was harvest time; early autumn, so the market place was even more crowded than usual. In the bustle and clamour of the day, no one noticed as a simply dressed girl entered the city and slipped easily through the crowd in the direction of the castle. She was far from being the only young woman in Camelot going to the castle that day, but she was the only one who held a glittering dagger concealed beneath her hooded cloak.

Sadly, not all were available to enjoy the warm day. In the middle of the knights' training grounds, a manservant winced as a knife thudded into the wooden shield he was struggling to hold, sending him to his knees - again.

'Come on, Merlin!' the Prince's exasperated voice rang out over the mostly deserted grounds.

Merlin staggered to his feet once more and held the shield up, as a bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. It had been one of those days when Arthur woke up energetic, raring to go and insisting on a heavy training session. Luckily those days didn't occur that often - sometimes only two or three days in a month - but Merlin dreaded them all the same. It was even worse than the days that Arthur decided he wanted every single thing in his room cleaned and polished - including his armour. They'd been at it since nine in the morning, and now the midday sun was beating down on them mercilessly. Arthur seemed strangely unaffected by it; even as he wore his heavy armour and padding.

Ten minutes later, Merlin simply refused to get up.

'Merlin!' Arthur growled. 'How am I meant to practice with you just lying there like a dead dog?'

'Get someone else to practice with you,' Merlin retorted, not moving from his sprawled position on the grass.

'Maybe I will!' the Prince fumed.

'Fine by me,' his servant replied, eyes closing involuntarily.

There was a pause, as Merlin listened for the angry exclamations and frustrated stamps that he was sure would follow. Instead, he heard an angry sigh and the sound of footsteps moving towards him. He opened his eyes slowly to see Arthur leaning over him, a hand extended towards him and a weary, resigned expression on his face. The young warlock eyed the hand warily. Arthur rolled his eyes. 'Just get up, Merlin.'

Still suspicious, Merlin took the offered hand and Arthur pulled him to his feet easily. 'Um…thanks,' he muttered.

Arthur sighed and stepped back, dropping Merlin's hand almost immediately. 'I'm sorry; I forgot how weak you can be sometimes.' His words became a sneer and Merlin rolled his eyes too, as Arthur turned away from him. It hadn't taken long at all for the Prince's arrogance to return.

'In my defence, I've been running and carrying a lot more than you have,' he pointed out. 'If you had to carry that bloody thing on your back while running up and down a field, you wouldn't be laughing now.'

The Prince grinned dangerously. 'Is that a challenge?'

'Definitely not.'

'Good. Take a break; go get food or whatever, you look like you're about to fall over. But be back here in half an hour.' With that, Arthur strode off without a backwards glance. Shaking his head at his master's changing moods, Merlin hurried towards the kitchens. On his way through the main courtyard, he stopped to hold the door for a girl of about fifteen, smiling politely as she passed. She smiled tentatively back, and when she was gone he wondered why he hadn't seen her in the castle before. Shrugging it off, he went on his way. He doubted that Arthur's strange new generosity would extend to him being late.

After the break, thankfully they moved on from knife throwing. Instead, Arthur made Merlin swordfight with him. He insisted it would come in useful for Merlin, and given the amount of life-threatening situations he seemed to find himself in, the young warlock had to agree.

The last had occurred three months ago; when Morgana and Morgause had taken over Camelot with the help of Cenred's immortal army. Luckily there had been nine of them left to fight against the witches - and to succeed. Morgana had not been seen in Camelot since she had disappeared in a flurry of broken glass and screams, clutching her half-sister's unmoving body to her.

The King was still recovering from the loss and betrayal of his daughter and ward, and so Arthur had been stepping in a lot more recently to keep the kingdom running. He never spoke of Morgana, but Merlin knew that he was still hurting from her betrayal - and also, that of his father's in never telling him the truth of Morgana's parentage. Here Merlin sympathized with Arthur; in his opinion the King could have at least put an end to all the hints, rumours, and expectations that one day, Morgana would be Queen of Camelot. It couldn't have been easy for Arthur, learning that the young woman he once flirted with was in actual fact his sister.

'Keep a firmer grip on the sword,' Arthur commanded, dragging the young warlock from his thoughts. 'Don't wave it about so wildly - it's all about control.' To demonstrate, he executed a particularly skilled manoeuvre; spinning the heavy sword effortlessly in his hands.

Merlin nodded and tried to follow his instructions, but more often than not he ended up on his back with Arthur's sword at his throat. At last, after a particularly gruelling rally, Arthur removed his sword from Merlin's throat and leaned on it, breathing heavily. 'You're getting better.'

'So are you,' Merlin replied truthfully as he gingerly sat up. Arthur seemed about to offer a hand to pull him up, but suddenly decided against it and strode off, calling over his shoulder mockingly;

'I trust you can get up by yourself this time?'

'Yes, sire,' Merlin muttered sarcastically, a fake cheery grin on his face as he gathered up the various pieces of equipment that Arthur had discarded before making his way precariously to the armoury.

Night had fallen and the moon risen high over Camelot when the newcomer to the city finally stirred. The girl stretched her cramped muscles and slowly, cautiously, crept out of the alcove in which she'd been hiding, into a deserted hallway in the east wing of the castle. Glancing around every few seconds, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and clutching her necklace with her other hand, whispered something to it. Immediately her eyes glowed gold, and a ball of light materialised before her. Smiling, with her hand she drew it closer to her until the faint white light fell on the paper before her, revealing a relatively simple map of the castle. Her eyes rested on a large, prominent 'X' on the map, and with another quick murmur and a flash of gold the ball of light shrunk in size until it was barely the size of a cherry. It began to float away from the girl, guiding her to her destination. She pulled her green cloak closer around her, covering her dark blonde hair easily and followed it on her way.

The two men guarding the King's chambers jumped to their feet hurriedly as a strange girl rounded the corner, their swords held out threateningly.

'Who are you and what is your purpose here?' the one on the right asked roughly.

The girl said nothing, only stopped a few metres away, lowered her hood and smiled serenely at them. However this had no effect. Mistrust had been drilled thoroughly into their minds, and they only kept a tighter hold on their swords.

'I said, what is your purpose here?' the first man demanded, angrily now.

'Tell us your name!' the other commanded, taking a step closer to her.

Gripping her necklace, the girl smirked and before the guards could stop her, uttered an incantation. Within seconds the two resumed their posts and stared straight ahead, unseeing. She waved a hand in front of their faces to check it had worked; they didn't even blink. Stepping past them she tried the handle of the door but it remained locked. Another incantation took care of that and then she was in the King's chambers, closing the door quietly behind her.

The girl approached the King as he lay on the luxurious bed, her face contorting in hatred. He tossed and turned restlessly as he slept, occasionally muttering unintelligible phrases. His face was lined and troubled, and the heavy crown rested on his bedside table. Fear crept into the girls expression for a moment, as she prepared for what she was about to do. But the memory of a loved one spurred her on, and her silent feet took her closer to the King's bedside as she unsheathed the dagger hidden in her bodice. She raised it above her gripping the hilt tightly, its razor sharp tip positioned directly above her sovereign's heart, and as anger flashed in her eyes so too the silver dagger flashed downwards -

Without warning a great wind swept through Camelot, extinguishing all lit candles and shattering windows. Merlin sat bolt upwards in his bed as a loud cry of 'EMRYS!' echoed throughout his head. Instinctively he leapt to his feet and sprinted out of his room, past Gaius and out into the hallways of the castle. The King was in danger, he could feel it, and now that same unseen voice urged him to hurry. It was not the Great Dragon, he was sure of that. It was no one's voice he recognized, but he didn't dwell on that as he sped through the castle, the wind pushing him forward - his only thought was to save the King.

Turning the last corner to the King's bedroom, Merlin paid no attention to the two guards standing as if in a trance and instead with a single thought blew the door off its hinges.

The girl screamed inadvertently as an eerily strong wind blew in, picking her up and throwing her bodily to the back of the room. She cried out again in pain as she hit the wall and slid down it, staring in bewilderment as a great vortex of air swirled around the King, blocking him from view. The dagger she had held had been torn from her hand and was nowhere to be seen. She tried to seize her necklace, a spell forming on her lips but that too was ripped from her - and then, without warning one of the entrance doors blew in, barely missing her as it flew across the room and crashed into the opposite wall. A dark-haired young man burst in - the one who'd smiled at her earlier, she realised with a shock. He paid no attention to her but instead ran towards the vortex, which held him off effortlessly. Withdrawing a few paces, he held his hand out and shouted something in the language of the Old Religion. She gasped as pure power unlike anything she'd ever seen suffused his words, and his eyes flashed gold. For a split second the vortex weakened and they caught a glimpse of Uther, still lying on the bed, but almost immediately it resumed its former strength and the brief window closed. The man tried again, and out of the corner of her eye the girl finally saw her dagger lying across the room, embedded in a soft chair. She began to crawl stealthily across the room, hoping he wouldn't see her. If she could only reach the dagger…take her revenge…kill the King…KILL THE KING…

Merlin growled as yet another spell seemed to bounce harmlessly off the vortex. This was raw, unbound power, and it was as stubborn as he was. Summoning his magic once again he yelled; 'Gayad du brerthorn ilmae! Karûn omenthay se unrabir!' It visibly swayed, and then the voice hissed through his head again; 'We are on your side, Emrys. The girl is your priority. Stop her!'

Confused, Merlin looked around to see that the girl had crossed the room and was now aiming a silver dagger at the bed, preparing to throw it with all the strength she had left. Though extremely powerful, the vortex was essentially only air and from what little knowledge Merlin had gleaned from its brief contact with his mind, it seemed to be concentrating all its power on something else entirely - it was up to him to stop the girl.

'Hætende!' he shouted, throwing out a hand. The dagger glowed red hot in the girl's hand but she had no time to cry out only to drop it instinctively, hand burning, before another cry sent her flying backwards to collide with the wall once again. Her eyes closed and her body fell limply to the floor. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that she was only unconscious; not dead. Whatever her intentions, he didn't want to be responsible for the death of someone barely out of childhood.

He looked back to the King just in time to see the vortex increase in speed before a bright light flared throughout the whole room blinding both him, and the knights and soldiers who had just entered into the chaos. When his eyes finally settled enough to see, the moonlight shining in through the now empty window arches reflected solely off the white sheets of the king-sized bed - Uther Pendragon was nowhere to be seen.

A/N: I'm not really sure what language they use when they do magic; at least I think its Old English, but I can't really say that here so I'm just gonna call it the Old Religion language for now. If I've got it wrong, please feel free to correct me!

xxx