A/N- Hello, and welome to my first real story on fanfiction! I hope you enjoy this one, and tell me what you think. More chapters will be coming later, so this is not a one-shot, but it shouldn't be terribly long either. Oh, and italicised words are people's thoughts.

Disclaimer- I do not own Merlin.

Spoilers- I guess episode 10 of Season 1, Moment of Truth.

Arthur ran as fast as his little legs would carry him. He thought that getting out of the castle would be the hard part, but now he realized out smarting his Father's knights might be the real problem. Finally, after what seemed like forever to a nine year but was probably only half an hour, he thought he was out of reach. Then he looked around at his surroundings, and realized what the real challenge would be. Surviving.

But he knew he would not head back to Camelot. Never. His Father was strict and insisted on treating Arthur like he was a child, when he was going to be ten in just a few months! After he had wandered around for a few hours, he decided to make camp. It was dusk and summer time, which meant it was probably past when he would normally be going to bed. Arthur smiled in defiance and got out the few belongings he had managed to pack; a bedroll, some flint, a knife, and some food provisions. After starting a fire, he rolled out his bed roll and promptly fell asleep.

When he woke up in the morning, he was surprisingly sore from sleeping on the ground all night. Arthur hadn't realized how much he had counted on his comfy bed at home. No, not home anymore. He was done being a prince, having to do his princely duties. He started on his way again, with no real goal in mind. He figured he would run into a village soon enough and find someone he could apprentice for. Or something like that. However, when no villages came in sight, he started to panic. Then he realized that he had to come across something. He was the prince, and things like this always worked out for him. The rest of the day passed in a blur for Arthur. He ate when he was hungry, and drank from his water skin when he was thirsty. Finally, exhausted after another day of travel, he barely had time to lay out his bed roll before he collapsed and feel asleep.

As Arthur forced his eyes opened, he wondered why his bed cover was suddenly blue instead of red. Then he remembered he had run away. Right, that meant he had to get moving. His food supply was running low, and he knew he would have start hunting soon.

About an hour after he had finished his last provisions for lunch, he heard a rustle in some nearby bushes. Maybe, he thought, I can finally hunt on my own. When Arthur was nearly upon his prey, it stumbled out of the foliage. With a start, Arthur realized it was not a wild animal, but a boy, maybe a couple of years younger than himself. He was wearing a too large red shirt and a blue neckerchief that swallowed up his whole neck. He was tall for his age, almost Arthur's height, but you could tell he still had some growing to do. Everything seemed too big for him; his clothes, his mouth, his arms, but especially his ears.

"Oh!" The raven haired boy said in surprise. He froze in place, staring at the prince. Arthur was taken aback at just how blue his eyes were, almost the same shade as his.

"Who are you? Where are you from?" The blonde haired boy demanded.

"M-my name is Merlin. My home- I mean my village, it's just over that hill, over there," Merlin stammered out.

Finally, I found a village. "Take me there."

The day Merlin met the boy he was destined to protect started out like any other. He woke up at dawn and went out to help the famers in the fields. Then when it became too hot for the workers to continue, he went and played with his best friend Will who was leaving right after midday with his Mother to go visit family in a neighboring village.

"I'm going to miss you while you're gone. Who's going to help me play pranks? Or go to the stream with me?" Merlin complained.

"I'm sure you'll be okay until I come back. I'll only be gone a week, and I promise we can play with my new bow and arrows when I get back."

"Promise?"

"Of course." And then they shook on it the only way little boys can, by spitting on their hands before the shake, as if their spit held a magical binding power.

Merlin's mother, Hunith, watched as her son moped about the house, sad at the lost of his one friend. "Merlin," she said, "Why don't you go find some more fire wood? I'll need some for cooking dinner tonight."

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Of course Mother," Merlin said, distracted. Hunith didn't really think he heard her because he just kept on sitting there playing (and by playing she meant levitating) with some rocks Merlin had found outside.

"Merlin," Hunith chastised. She walked over to where her son was playing and crouched down next to him. She put her hand over his and slowly brought his attention towards her. "How many times have I told you? You can't use magic. Not here, when someone could walk by and see. Now, why don't you go collect some fire wood for tonight? Please?"

"Yes Mother," Merlin sighed. For being so young, he had a heavy burden, one that would make most children break down. But he kept on, for he was strong, stronger in his will and determination than in his childish desire to show off.

Merlin walked absentmindedly away from the village, and walked farther than his mother would probably approve of. He was thinking. His thoughts dwelt on Will for awhile, before switching to his magic, which inevitably led to his father. He had been thinking of him more lately, since Will's father had been killed in war. It was in this state of mind that Merlin walked through some bushes and suddenly found himself face to face with another boy.

Merlin was startled, to say the least. He quickly took in the boy's appearance. His clothing looked as if it had once been grand, but was so covered with filth it was hard to tell. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked strong, even if he was still young. Merlin let out a surprised sound when he saw him.

The boy's face had a look of frustration on his face, but one could see that he was also very tired. This look was what made Merlin stumble over his words as he tried to answer the older boy's questions.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

"M-my name is Merlin. My home- I mean my village, it's just over that hill, over there."

"Take me there."

And Merlin felt he had no choice but to oblige this haggard, yet determined looking boy in front of him.

So, what did you think? Let me know in reviews!

-princessmelia