Author's Note:

Hi everyone!
Sry, I just couldn't resist starting this story... the plot bunny would have killed me ;). So well, here is the first chapter- a pretty small first, like always with my stories.
Thanks to everyone who reads this, and especially those who review at the end. And a special thanks to Kaminari Rin, who- by saying it sounded like a good story- convinced me into just trying. This is an AU-fic, set before Merlin came to Camelot. Well, the only really AU-thingy is that I completely changed his childhood... ;D
Now, enjoy and please R&R!

Summary:
Merlin lives as Lord Emrys, leader of the druids, with his people far away from the cities. This way, he can protect the sorcerers from execution without getting known. It works out well, until three druids decide to take matters into their hands and kidnap Prince Arthur Pendragon, hoping to blackmail King Uther and get their revenge.
With the King planning to fight the former-secret community rather than give in and the druids suddenly up for revenge, how can Merlin avoid war and convince the Prince that magic isn't all bad?
NO SLASH.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Merlin... -.-

Chapter 1: Hope dies last

Arthur didn't have time to scream.
Not that he would have screamed, mind you. More like shouted for the guards- he was the crowned Prince after all- but, annoyingly, he didn't even have time for that. The three black-dressed men took him too much by surprise. I mean, who would expect anyone, least of all three highly dangerous assassins, to suddenly appear in your chambers? Well?

So, Arthur couldn't be blamed that he just sat frozen as they approached him, sneering behind the black masks. (What was it with bandits and black, anyway?)
One man stared at the book on the desk before Arthur and laughed.

"Oh, did we interrupt your reading, sire?"

How could anyone possibly lay so much hatred in such an innocent word?
Arthur flushed to his embarrassment, quickly shutting the book, and tried to subtly search his sword instead.
Of course it had to lean against his bed, in the other corner of the room, where the Prince had left it after this afternoon's training.

"Not so talkative today, eh? Sad, we've heard you could make damn good speeches."

Arthur barely heard the mockery, as his mind raced.

Say something, anything. Keep them distracted. Maybe the guards will look in.

There was no really great chance of that; but hope dies last, doesn't it?
Thoughts still spinning, the Prince felt his mouth open completely by itself.

"That's no book, actually, just... records. Yes, records."

Gods, have I really just said that?
The bandits laughed and Arthur flushed even more, quickly closing his traitorous mouth before it could spill any more stupidity. At least it worked.

"Whateva ya say, my Lord."

The grin was clear in the second assassin's voice and Arthur needed all his willforce to stay impassive.
Where are those guards when you need them? He should really upgrade Camelot's security system. If they found a way to protect themselves from appearing sorcerers, that is.

And if I survive this.

Strangely, the thought didn't bother Arthur as much as one would think. It simply sounded too ridiculous to be true.
Who knew three assassins, armed with swords and magic, that had just turned up out of thin air, wasn't enough to convince the Prince of his possible death?
Stupid hope.

A movement caught his attention and Arthur forced himself to smile at the again approaching bandits.

"So, what do you want from me?" he asked casually, discreetly lifting and taking one step to the right. He had left his dagger somewhere on the floor, Arthur was sure of it.
Not as good as a sword, but nearer.
The sorcerers seemed taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered.

"So we're gettin' to business now, are we? Well, first we just want-"

"Revenge?" the Prince interrupted, absent-mindedly searching the ground. "Gold? My death?"

There it was, next to the pile of dirty clothes. Just out of reach, as it had to be. Suppressing a sigh, Arthur took another step to the right, arranging a few papers like an excuse as he pointedly ignored the bandit's stares.

Only one step...

The one that had spoken first, obviously their leader, seemed to frown. "How... ?"
Arthur smiled, fighting to look untroubled as the third bandit took a step forward, unintentionally blocking his path.

"Oh, believe it or not, you're not the first ones. And by far not the most intimidating. Really, black masks? It isn't carnival yet, is it?"

Ignoring his protesting sense of self-preservation, Arthur took a step around his desk towards them, reaching out for the mask of the one blocking his way to the knife. As expected, the bandit at first backed away in surprise, before he growled and rushed at the Prince.

His sword met the desk behind Arthur with a loud clink- or rather, behind where Arthur had been a second sorcerers stared at the empty place in confusion, before their gazes lifted to find a now armed Prince standing only a few feet away. Arthur grinned at their looks.

"Like I said, not the best ones. Else you would have learned to never let your victim get up in the first place."

There was a short, unbelieving silence, before all three men howled in anger and lunged forward at once.
Arthur, expecting the attack, lifted his dagger just in time to block the first blow, sending the bandit flying back with his force. The man crashed into the desk, taking one of his companions with him. And not a second too soon, as a moment later Arthur already crouched low to dodge the third's sword. His foot shot out, meeting the sorcerer's stomach with a satisfying gasp.

The Prince straightened again, blocking the second bandit, who had recovered quickly from his fall, and pushed him back down. A brief glance at the door.

Why the hell did this guards take so long? Surely, someone must have heard the noise of their fight?

It didn't even occur to Arthur that his attackers hadn't used any spells so far, despite- given their entrance- clearly being capable to do so. That is, until suddenly one of the bandits was gone. Vanished as quickly as he had come, but this time the man left the other two.

Arthur furrowed his brows, worriedly glancing around the chambers.

He didn't have to search long, for only seconds later the world seemed to erupt in pain. The Prince's back arched, instinctively trying to get away from the pain, when he cried in agony and fury. Another sting as the sword was pulled out of his side again and Arthur swept round, one hand covering his wound while he stared at the grinning bandit.

The dagger moved almost on its own accord, burying itself deep in the man's sword arm. He screamed, letting go of the weapon so it hit the ground with a cold clang, that reverberated in Arthur's ears like a broken bell.

Though the Prince barely noticed two of the bandits stumbling past him to hold their wounded comrade. Everything seemed to blur, the only clear thing being pain and red, so much red that it soaked his shirt and dripped down, covering the floor with stains.

Blood. My blood.

The thought was too far away in his slow-processing brain to really worry Arthur, but still it seemed wrong.
Deadly wrong.

The Prince swayed, only noticing that he had lost the knife when he grabbed his desk for support. Red sprayed on all the important papers, months of work, as Arthur's feet gave in under him.

Father won't be happy.

Strong arms grasped him before he could hit the ground and the Prince stared in shock at cold eyes behind the black mask, dark symbols covering the arms where the cloak had slipped.

Druids.

Arthur didn't realize he had spoken aloud until the man smirked icily.

"Didn't expect the peaceful folk to get angry for slaughtering us like animals, eh? Well, not for long, now that we have Camelot's dear Prince. Emrys will be pleased."

The words didn't fully reach Arthur's mind, as suddenly the door burst open to reveal two completely confused guards.

Only a few minutes too late.
The thought filled him with hysterical giggling that the Prince quickly suppressed.
Seem strong, even in pain or death. A weak king has already lost his throne.
His father's words were clear, logical, and Arthur clung to them like a lifeline.

"Sire? Are you alright? We are-"

Arthur would never know what exactly the guards were, for the druid suddenly seemed to hold him tighter, and an instant later all four of them- bandits and Prince- were covered in a glowing blue orb. As his chambers slowly faded around the magical wall, the Prince felt his consciousness also slipping. The last thing he saw were trees, old and tall trees which certainly didn't belong to Camelot, then everything disappeared again to a deep black.

That was the moment Arthur officially declared his hope dead.

What do you think would you like to hear more? Interesting enough to be continued? I hope so...

Next chapter (if I ever get to write it- well, depending on the reviews I receive) we will learn a bit more about Merlin and his role as Lord Emrys. Maybe they will even meet? :D I haven't really planned it out yet. Like I said, I'm waiting how you like it.

Now, please review and tell me... ;)