When he looks back on this, Merlin will one day concede that they were probably asking for trouble. Yes, they should have taken a number of Arthur's knights with them, and no, they shouldn't have been surprised when the witch they're hunting finds them first.

But Arthur is not to be denied, and if his announcement that they were going witch-hunting together made Merlin want to throw up or pass out or any variation thereupon, he certainly doesn't know it.

She's radiant, a vision in robes of white, with hair the colour of corn silk that falls to her waist and skin so pale it seems almost translucent. They came across her on the path reclining idylly against a tree, a show of rainbow fireworks dancing in her palm as she smiles serenely up at Arthur. Merlin knows instantly, instantly, that she's nothing but bad news. Not that he'd assume her to be evil, but there's a glint of something in her eye that he doesn't trust.

"Witch, you are under arrest by order of King Uther for the crime of sorcery" Arthur sits tall upon his hunting horse, a proud animal who prances restlessly on the spot, chestnut coat gleaming in the afternoon sunshine. He looks the perfect prince, strong and noble and beautiful and there's a deep pang in Merlin's chest at the image of all that perfection that will never be his.

"How well you make me laugh, Prince Arthur of Camelot" As if to prove just that point, she lets out a giggle, high and impossibly sweet. "You shall not arrest me now, or ever" Her palm snaps shut, the lights that had danced in it blinking out in a heartbeat. Merlin shudders at the metallic hiss as Arthur unsheathes his sword.

"Then I shall run you through where you stand" He's hissing menacingly, sword waving dangerously as he dismounts from his horse and stalks towards the witch. Merlin, having fallen ungracefully from his horse's back, follows behind with considerably less stealth.

"Merlin, stay back. She's dangerous" Arthur's voice is all power and authority and Merlin knows without doubt he'd do anything Arthur asks in that moment, even if it means walking to the ends of the earth and back. Or leaving Arthur to die at this woman's hands, although, no, he probably wouldn't do that after all.

The witch purses her lips and sits up straight, her eyes flashing gold as she stares down Arthur who instead of impaling her upon his sword without a second thought, suddenly stops and stares around himself as if confused, sword slipping from his now slack grasp.

"There now, that's better" She smiles once more and snaps her fingers. "Now pay attention to me" Merlin feels his heart pounding in his chest, equal parts terror and excitement as Arthur slowly raises his head to stare defiantly at the witch. His body may be uninterested in taking another step, but his mind is keen as ever.

"What is your business here?" She leans luxuriously back against the tree, spinning a throne of vines and flowers that grow up and around her, as if she queen of the forest and all that lives within but her humble servants.

"I don't intend to kill you Arthur Pendragon, if that's what you're asking. But do not think I will allow you to simply walk from this place either. You would not have hesitated to kill me, as you have killed so many of my kind. If you continue to walk along the path you have chosen, you will be nothing more than a tyrant, and no better than your father"

She raises a hand, something gold growing in her palm, swirling and flashing as it gained power. "Your heart grows cold, even now. I cannot sit idly by and let you become that man. It is not your destiny" Her gaze flickers, lands on Merlin, semi-crouched behind a small sapling. Her smile as he rises to his full height is absolutely radiant.

"Emrys" She breathes, like a prayer, eyes glittering with unshed tears. Never has anyone behaved this way around Merlin, and Arthur swings his head comically back and forth between them, confusion dampening the fury in his features.

"You know her?" His tone is utterly disbelieving.

"No" Merlin says, and then resigned: "Not in this life" Because he has a feeling that maybe the dragon isn't totally wrong about this destiny business, and he'd really like to read a few of these things that have supposedly been written about him.

"You have known me always" The witch says slowly, on her feet and moving towards him. "We are tied to each other, as you are tied to Arthur and he to you"

"What on earth?" Arthur again, and Merlin shushes him impatiently, desperate for any word the witch is willing to give. She knows his heart is thrumming, she knows about our destiny.

"A great destiny awaits you my lord" Arthur's eyes nearly boggle from his head at her formal address. "I am truly sorry that this must be my part in it" She extends her hand to Merlin's chest, moisture on her cheeks. "Perhaps you will forgive me, when you have come to understand"

The swirling golden heat in her palm burrows into Merlin's chest, his breath forced from his lungs, fire racing through his blood. His head begins to spin and he hears Arthur's cry of fury as he tumbles backwards onto the forest floor, the smell of peat filling his head before he passes out.

He does not see the witch smile sadly as she disappears.

He wakes wrapped in Arthur's cloak, the soft red material tickling his bare shoulders, a sensation of deep, terrible dread coursing over him.

"Ah you're awake Merlin" Arthur says from some feet away where there's a small fire blazing and, but for a few scratches, looks none the worse for his ordeal. Far above there are stars twinkling between the tree tops and Merlin wonders idly how long he's been out.

"Erm, any reason why I'm wrapped in your cloak?" Arthur clears his throat uncomfortably, staring at the forest floor.

"Yes, well I could hardly let you freeze, and, uh, I thought you would appreciate it, given the, uh, circumstances" Curiously, a deep blush is working its way across Arthur's cheekbones, clear even in the dim firelight.

"What are you talking about?" It's cold, even under Arthur's heavy wool cloak, and he'd like nothing better to sit by the fire that looks so warm and inviting.

"Merlin, look at yourself" Arthur gestures vaguely with one hand and quickly looks away again. Merlin lifts the cloak slightly, his limbs feeling awkward and ungainly, and peers down at his body.

"I'm a-" Arthur nods.

"Yeah"

"With-"

"I know"

"And I've got-"

"I saw them"

"Arthur, I'm a girl!" The last word comes as a shrill cry and for the first time Merlin notices his voice has become several octaves higher. He claps a hand over his mouth, noting with horror the thick tangle of dark curls that swing heavily with every movement of his head.

"I had come to that conclusion, yes. What with the-" He waves his hand again and nods towards Merlin. "-and all"

"And when you noticed the sorceress had turned me into this, your first thought was not to hunt her down, but to preserve my modesty?" The voice is certainly going to take some getting used to.

"You were lying there with your shirt in tatters and those things bare for all and sundry to see, what was I supposed to do?" Merlin scowls at Arthur and readjusts the cloak around his shoulders. No matter how annoyed he feels, Arthur is right about one or two things.

"Besides once she'd cursed you she didn't seem all that keen on hanging about for a chat!" Merlin opens his mouth only to be cut off by Arthur again. "And I already looked for a damn trail and there isn't one so stop behaving like a-" He breaks off suddenly with a look of horror.

"A girl?" Merlin sneers. "Well I've got news for you, I am a girl, so I'll behave like one if I want to!" He tosses his newly acquired mass of curls over his shoulder with a 'hrrmph!' just to prove his point. Arthur pointedly ignores it.

"You can't stay on a horse at the best of times, I can't have you on an animal in that state" He muses quietly, taking in Merlin's drastically altered appearance. "You'll have to ride with me."

"What?" Merlin does not try to keep the disbelief from his new notably higher voice. Arthur stares at him pleasantly as he stomps out the fire. So much for enjoying that then.

"You heard. Now come here so we can get you on my horse" Merlin gets shakily to his feet, the cloak settling low on his bare shoulders and swirling gently around his body as he walks.

"You cannot seriously be intending to ride, at night, with me on the horse as well" He stands next to Arthur's gentle hunter and watches his own smaller horse stand placidly whilst Arthur hitches them together.

"I absolutely intend on doing that Merlin. Now do me a favour and shut up" His grin of nonchalance doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"Ready?" Arthur seizes him by the waist and swings upwards, only letting go once he's was settled upon the horse's back. He's seriously irritated to realise Arthur has placed him side-saddle, leaving him nothing to grip in the event he begins to slide off again, as he is indeed doing.

In another moment however, Arthur is behind him on the soft leather and with reins in one hand, wraps protectively around Merlin, presumably to keep him from falling.

"How long do you expect this to take?" He asked as Arthur nudged the horse into a walk. It's an entirely different experience sitting sideways, his body forced to move in different ways to keep balance.

"A day perhaps" Arthur replies stiffly. Merlin is sitting up straight, rocking uncomfortably against the horse's neck, his fingers desperately wound in the animal's mane.

"For gods sake Merlin would you relax? You're stiff as a plank of wood!" Arthur pulls him into his chest, forcing Merlin to nestle his head against his hauberk. "I don't enjoy this any more than you do" He adds, seemingly for good measure.

They do indeed ride through the night, stopping only when Merlin insists lest he wet himself on Arthur's horse, and even then only because Arthur didn't wish to subject his finest hunter to such indignity. Merlin spent a suspiciously long time discovering the logistics of his new body, something which Arthur isn't sure he finds revolting or fascinating.

He is thankfully used to having women side-saddle upon his horse and therefore can manipulate Merlin into a comfortable position when he falls asleep, curled slightly into Arthur, cascade of dark curls tumbling over his shoulder and framing his face.

The thing is, he makes a really pretty girl. He's still Merlin of course, naive and useless and a little bit stupid, and he still has too-pale skin and sticky-out ears with knobbly knees and elbows, but a small part of Arthur always found those things endearing rather than annoying. Now was no exception.

"Stop staring at me" Merlin murmurs, blinking his large blue eyes slowly and gazing sleepily up at Arthur. He snorts in response.

"Don't flatter yourself Merlin. I happened to be looking in your general direction while I contemplated princely things you would never understand" He smiles smugly. The corner of Merlin's lips rise and he closes his eyes once more.

"Even if I was staring, it's not like I fancy you or anything-"

"I never said you did" Merlin interjects, eyes still closed. Those lips really are quite lovely Arthur thinks, careful not to let any such thoughts tumble over his own.

"-it's just weird, you being a girl-" Merlin gives a burst of laughter, a higher and sweeter sound than Arthur's accustomed to. It almost makes his chest ache. Almost.

"You're telling me."

"-so you can't blame me if I look. You would, if it were the other way around" He shudders, and adds for good measure: "But I'd be a beautiful girl anyway, so you probably would fancy me."

"Mmmm" Merlin gives a soft sigh and burrows against Arthur's chest.

Of all the moments in Merlin's life he wishes to forget, riding through Camelot astride Arthur's horse is definitely in the top ten. It seems everywhere he looks people stare back with curiosity and he realised too late that to them it must seem as if Arthur has brought home a maiden from his travels. He shudders at the thought, staying silent as Arthur helps him dismount and following quietly as the prince strides quickly towards the throne room.

To say Uther is displeased is an understatement.

"You mean to tell me this young lady is your idiot manservant?" He looks carefully at Merlin. "Impossible."

"It's true" Merlin ventures softly, feeling very much like bug to be squashed under the kings intense gaze. "What reason would we have to lie?"

"She has a look of that boy. Perhaps what you say is true" Uther speaks as if Merlin does not exist. It is, he realises, the way many of the noblemen of Camelot speak of women. As objects and not people. The harsh reality of his situation begins to dawn.

"We came upon the witch in the forest. She intended to curse me, but Merlin offered himself in my place. He showed great courage" Merlin frowns at Arthur's story. He recalls things rather differently, but knows better than to argue.

"And what of the witch?"

"She escaped. I searched the forest and found no trace" Arthur bows his head in humility. His father will no doubt lecture him later, and Merlin is sure to face the brunt of his anger when he returns. He will be sure however, to thank Arthur as soon as possible, no matter how great his fury.

"Very well. Let us see if you speak the truth of your manservant" Uther's face speaks volumes. If Arthur is telling the truth, as he indeed is, he will be punished for allowing magic to be performed so close to his person and the culprit to escape. If he lies, he will be punished not only for the lie itself but also for besmirching his name by bringing home an unknown maiden.

"You" Uther acknowledges Merlin directly for the first time. "Stand in front of the mirror there" If anyone thinks it was odd that a man who despises magic as much as Uther would have such an intensely magical object in his possession, they quickly change their tune upon discovering what the mirror does. Instead of reflecting a person as they look, it shows them as they truly are. For this reason it is kept shrouded at all times. The true nature of many is best left secret.

Merlin has never seen a person stand in front of this mirror, never watched as the cloth is pulled back with a billow of dust and a rich golden frame enclosing a perfect round mirror revealed. It is daunting to have to do so whilst in front of it. He is not afraid however, of what the mirror will show.

His reflection is as it always is. Behind him, Arthur is also reflected, and Merlin sees the worry creased on his face. He still manages to look golden and radiant regardless and Merlin feels a great surge of admiration for his perfect untouchable prince.

After some time and some sort of signal Merlin doesn't see nor is aware has even been made, the cloth is hauled back over the mirror and Uther sits heavily in his chair.

"You may keep your manservant" He announces brusquely and Merlin feels a completely unexpected rush of happiness rise inside his chest. Up until that moment he hasn't considered that he can't be Arthur's manservant anymore, or that he won't be allowed to stay in his little room, or help Gaius, or any of those other things he's always hated but really secretly enjoyed.

"I trust you will not disgrace the name of Pendragon" Uther says with a smirk, back to speaking as if Merlin does not exist at all, and Arthur gives the briefest of nods and stares determinedly at the wall. Take your maidservant to your bed if you will, but make it worth her while to stay silent about it. Merlin shivers, mostly at the thought Arthur might want to take him to bed in the first place. It is not a shiver of fear or disgust.

"See that she visits the Lady Morgana's maidservant and finds some appropriate attire. I wish to speak to you alone" Uther gives Merlin the briefest of glances and then spits "Are you stupid? I said leave!" and Merlin makes a movement somewhere between a bow and a curtsey and quietly flees the room.

He does not see Arthur's gaze follow his every step, nor does Arthur intend that he do.

Gwen and Morgana do not believed him. Not at first.

It takes several tense minutes, a rundown of the story twice, and Merlin's frustrated hiss of "I know about your magic Morgana!" to finally convince them, but they have gleefully taken to playing dress-up with him once introductions are out of the way.

"I absolutely cannot wear that Morgana. I'm a servant!" Morgana pouts over the deep blue dress she holds aloft.

"Keep it anyway. I don't wear it anymore and you should have at least one"

"What on earth for?" He cries in exasperation, and Morgana just smiles and tosses it on top of the pile.

"You never know" She says, and he senses she's drawn the conversation to a close, regardless of his protests otherwise.

Gwen is rather more realistic about his attire and finds several dresses that only need a little mending to be wearable and keep his modesty intact. She also very kindly provides him with undergarments, of which there are several and he blanches in horror at the idea of having to wear them all at once.

He does at one point make the mistake of asking about a small fold of cloth on top of the pile and then spends ten minutes blazing red as Morgana gives a frank and unapologetic lecture on female anatomy. Girls are horrible, he decides, and he hates being one, and he really wants his own body back, thank you very much.

"We have to teach you how to fix your hair too. You can't leave it like that" Gwen says as he wallows in his on self pity. She sits on a low stool mending various garments so they might be suitable for use. Merlin suspects many have been taken from her own scant wardrobe and is tremendously grateful for this. He tells her as such and she smiles sweetly, even when she pricks a finger.

Morgana forces him in front of her dressing table and he sees himself in the mirror as she begins to work her way through the tangle of hair cascading down his back.

"I'm pretty" He murmurs softly, and Morgana behind him smirks knowingly.

"You're not pretty Merlin, you're ravishing" She winks.

He looks much the same, all pale skin and dark hair, blue eyes and sharp angles, and yet somehow changed. There is beauty in this face, an elfin charm that he does not find altogether unappealing. Morgana twists his hair into a thick braid and curls it into a bun at the base of his neck, and he finally feels a little more like himself for the first time since this whole business started.

"Don't worry so much, Arthur won't rest until you're back to normal" She whispers in his ear and smiles when he stares at her in confusion.

"You really are a little bit stupid sometimes aren't you?" Gwen laughs, and it isn't an insult, not at all.

Merlin yawns, suddenly wishing for his little bed in his little room and the blessed relief of sleep. Gwen holds a dress of palest pink before her for a moment before nodding and announcing it mended to the standards of a queen. Merlin flushes.

"Off with you now" Morgana says, sounding all the much like his mother and ushers him out the door with his basket of newly acquired clothes and a kiss dropped on one cheek.

On the top of the pile is Arthur's cloak, folded neatly, the golden dragon gleaming in the lantern light. He wonders for a moment if Arthur expects him tonight, to dress him for bed and douse his candles. Perhaps Uther is still in a pique of rage and Arthur won't make it to his rooms until it is nearly morning.

Merlin decides he will go without for a night. He suspects Arthur will not be too upset.