The Darkest Years

"The years before I came to Camelot were the loneliest of my life"

'He was ready to die with his brother … he wished he could have had that chance.'

Arthur stepped gently, moving slowly and stealthily through the forest, his ears straining, highly attuned to the forest environment. He heard a twig snap behind him. Turning his head ever so slightly, he saw Merlin behind him, crouched down, as though hiding from something, plodding clumsily along, his feet landing heavily amongst the branches and dead leaves which paved the forest floor.

He placed his finger on his lips, signalling Merlin to be quiet. Merlin understood, and began to tread more gently. Not that it made any difference, he was as adapt to this environment as he was to his life as a servant – he just didn't seem to be able to do anything right. The two unlikely friends, servant and Prince, trekked on through the forest, a dozen knights following behind.

There had been some reports of strange activity in this part of the forest, and given the King's intense hatred for all things magical, and extremely suspicious, even paranoid behaviour towards it, Arthur had been instructed to go and investigate. Despite the fact that it was extremely close to the border of Cendred's Kingdom, they had set out immediately, and had been trekking for the past day and a half. If truth be told, Arthur was quite glad to get away for a few days. Things had been incredibly tense for him in Camelot recently, all starting with an argument he'd had with his father, which had escalated and he'd found himself wishing for some time away. Then these reports had come in – the perfect excuse.

Suddenly they heard a noise – something moving in the forest, somewhere far off ahead, in the shrubbery. Both Merlin and Arthur's heads turned, in perfect unison, in the direction of the noise. Arthur signalled for his men to stop and slowly raised his crossbow, ready to fire at any moment. They all edged slowly closer, almost silently now, until they had walked to the end of the clearing. Something moved, and Arthur saw it from the corner of his eye. He turned, tightening his grip on his trusted weapon and focused his eyes, staring intently, searching for any sign of what it was.

Then out of nowhere two children, young boys, dressed poorly and bare-footed, came running out of the shrubbery and into the clearing. Upon spotting the crowd of armed soldiers they suddenly stopped and their faces dropped, eyes widening, displaying their sudden onset fear.

For a moment Arthur remained, just standing there as though frozen, shock painted all over his face. But he soon regained himself and lowered his weapon. Reaching out his arm he spoke, "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." The boys simply stood there, still too shocked and scared to move, having not quite taken in what had just happened. Arthur took a step closer to them, more relaxed now, "You don't need to be scared, nobody's going to harm you. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"We … we were just … playing, sir." said the oldest of the two, bowing his head a little.

Arthur paused for a moment, "Well … it's dangerous out here. Do your mothers know where you are?"

"They don't know sir," he said, "they have to work all day, so we just come out here to play. I'm … I'm sorry if we're in your way sir …"

"No, it's fine." Arthur looked at the two of them, "Have you seen anything strange around here?"

The boys exchanged glances, and then replied in unison, "No." as the shook their heads.

Arthur turned around, "Merlin -" but Merlin was standing there, staring at the two boys, as though completely transfixed by them. He sighed, "Merlin! Merlin?"

But Merlin remained completely unresponsive; he just continued to stare at the children. He was completely gone, totally lost in thought as memories came flooding back to him. As he stared at the little boy, his face contorted, expressing all the emotions he was feeling – pain, sadness, confusion. And yet he was so happy to see this boy. It couldn't be, could it? No, of course not, there was no way … But the resemblance was striking.

Merlin swallowed. His mouth had become incredibly dry as he remained completely transfixed, his head was clouded with so many different thoughts, so many memories, it was impossible to think straight or make any sense of it. All he could think, just one word, a name, his name.

"Daman …" he breathed.

Perhaps it was saying his name, perhaps it was that he couldn't keep them away any longer, but suddenly a wave of memories washed over him.

A young Merlin, only seven or eight running through the forest, running away. And his little brother, Daman, only five years old, attempting to chase after him.

"It's not fair, Merlin! You're bigger than me!" Daman exclaimed as he stopped and bent over, resting his little hands on his knees, out of breath.

"You're just really slow!" Merlin called over his shoulder as he continued running, teasing him.

But Daman didn't attempt to keep up this time; he just sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree and sat there, red cheeks, trying to regain his breath.

Within a few minutes, Merlin was back, "Hey, little brother!" he exclaimed as he walked up to him and sat down on the log beside him, "Are you okay, Daman?"
"Yeah." he said, his breathing now back to normal, "Tired ..."
"I know," said Merlin, "me too!"
They looked at each other and smiled. Merlin ruffled Daman's hair, and he punched Merlin playfully on the shoulder. The small hits escalated into a fully blown play-fight of rough and tumble, and soon they were rolling around on the ground in the clearing, laughing and screaming, completely elated just to be there, with each other, having fun. Within minutes they were back to a game of chase as the two boys cascaded through the forest, jumping over roots that were sticking out of the ground and changing their pace as they turned corners, hiding behind trees ready to jump out and scare one another.
A small drop of water hit Merlin's face and he looked up as the clouds gathered way up high, above the tree tops, and the rain started to fall, coming down heavily, in huge great droplets of water.
"Come on!" Merlin called. Daman appeared from behind a tree, just as soaked as Merlin, "Let's go!" he yelled, signalling with his arm.
He didn't need to be told twice. Daman ran as fast as his small legs could carry him. Merlin reached out and took hold of Daman's small hand, and together they raced through the forest, heads down, trying their very best, to no avail, to avoid any rain possible.
Merlin could almost feel that rain on him now, standing there in a similar clearing, several years later, staring at the two young boys who stood before him. These strangers who had dragged him most unexpectedly back into the past. He didn't see two strangers anymore. He saw himself, the young child, and his little brother next to him.
"Merlin!" Arthur was almost shouting, though standing right in front of him. And yet Merlin had only just heard him, having been so caught up, completely lost inside his own mind, his childhood memories. Arthur looked at him, puzzled, "Are you alright, Merlin?"
"Er ... yeah, yeah of course, I'm fine!" Merlin said, now very aware of the tears that had filled up his eyes. He smiled, showing he was out of his daze and back to reality. And yet he wasn't really going to be fully back into reality for a long time, and he knew it. He'd thought of his brother, and it was a pleasant, beautiful memory, but yet so painful to even think of his name. Already more memories were beginning to resurface, as if pushing their way through all the defences he'd put up. Though he had managed a smile, his mouth was dry, his throat felt very thick and already he could feel tears building up at just the realisation that the memories were still there.
"We'll set up camp here for the night" Arthur said plainly, looking around, his instincts kicking in as he scanned for anything that might cause problems, "We'll have a four man guard on a four hour rotation. That way we can all get some sleep."
"Sure." Merlin said, his mind somewhere else again.

That night, as darkness crept in and swept over the forest, Merlin simply sat there, staring into the fire, utterly submerged in thought. The rude awakening of old memories and old hurts had been so sudden and so unexpected, he was completely unprepared. Yet he was in some ways thankful that the two young boys had appeared and waltzed through his defences and into his memories, because he hadn't thought of his brother in so long. It was his way of coping, simply … forgetting. But now that he did remember, he was quite content to simply sit there, smiling a little as he lost himself in his memories again. For all the pain, all the old wounds that had just been reopened, it was so nice to think of him again, as though it brought him back in some small part. And remembering the childhood they'd shared, while bringing back the pain of how his childhood had so abruptly ended, it also made him happy somehow, to remember what it was like, being a child, running through the forest bare-footed, hand in hand with Daman, not a care in the world.

"Merlin?" Arthur threw down his sword as he perched himself on the ground beside Merlin.

"Mm?" Merlin looked up, still a little vague.

"Are you alright? You're … distant."

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just … you know when you see something, and it reminds you of something, someone and …"

Arthur looked at Merlin for some time, as though studying him, trying to work out what he was really saying, what was going on inside his head. After a while he took a breath, "Those boys?"

"Yeah …" Merlin looked down and swallowed, taking a stick in his hand and began to mess with the fire, poking and prodding, distracting himself, "Seeing them, like that … reminds me of my childhood."

"What happened?"

Merlin knew that Arthur meant well, he was a good friend, and he knew he could be trusted, but he hardly felt like talking about it now, least of all to him. It wasn't that he thought Arthur was incapable of understanding what it was … it was just that … he wouldn't really understand. Arthur's mother had been missing, and he'd had his fair share of hurts, but Merlin's father hadn't been there either. Arthur didn't know what it was like to fall in love, then have her killed right in front of him, he didn't know what it was like to find a long-lost parent only to have them die in his arms … he didn't know what it was like to have everyone around him die. He'd been an only child; he couldn't possibly know this hurt, to see that as only a child … it was the beginning of his curse, to live forever alone, with everyone he loved getting hurt.

"You know," Merlin said finally, rubbing his hands on his trousers as he looked up, "same as anyone else's … little bit of pain, little bit of fun. Nothing interesting."

Arthur looked at him again, puzzled. There was obviously more to it that he was letting on, but clearly he wasn't going to talk about it, so Arthur let it be, "You'd better get some rest, there are several knights on guard, we'll be fine for tonight."

"Yeah" Merlin said, as he stood up, glad of the excuse to be alone. He began to walk towards the edge of the camp but when he arrived at the end, he simply walked onwards, and continued for a long time. He didn't care that it was dangerous, he could take care of himself, he wasn't terribly concerned for himself now anyway.

He stopped beside a tall oak tree and simply stood there. Holding onto the trunk, he gazed out into the depths of the forest, lost again. The darkness was all around him and there was very little he could see, but then he wasn't really looking for a nice view, in fact he wasn't really seeing with his eyes at all. He was seeing a boy and his older brother walking through the forest again, talking, babbling on about the kind of things that children do. Then a twig snapped. A man appeared beside them, smiling maliciously. He was ugly and wearing dirty outdoor clothes. He had a sword which he held like a man who obviously knew how to use it. Then more men appeared, surrounding them in the clearing. Merlin felt Daman's hand grab his, and he only gripped it tighter, both of them terrified.

No! Merlin turned away, his eyes shut tight as he stared out the inside of his eyelids, trying so hard not to remember, not to think. He couldn't, he wouldn't! It was far too painful to stand, even knowing that it had happened, he couldn't bear to remember, not now. Merlin slowly opened his eyes and turned to walk back to the camp, not looking back.

When he arrived, he decided to sleep near the fire as it was becoming increasingly cold as the night crept in. He laid a blanket out and lay down on it, bringing it up around himself like a quilt to keep himself warm. Arthur was lying the other side of the fire, already asleep, and snoring like a pig. Merlin lay his head down, as he shifted his weight around on the soft earth beneath him, trying to get comfortable. And for what could have been an eternity, he lay here, staring up at the stars which he could see through the gaps in the trees. It felt like it must have been hours before he finally dropped off, perhaps it was, but eventually his eyes closed as he tried to put the visions of his brother from his mind and get some peace.

But peace was far from what Merlin received that night. As he lay in bed twisting and turning, sweat and tears running down his face, his mind was filled with flickering images of his haunting past. Scenes of Merlin and Daman there with their mother, being a family. He dreamt things he couldn't even remember, memories he didn't have – his father, Balinor, smiling as a tiny Merlin looked up at his mother's stomach, and hearing that his little brother was inside. Then pictures of Daman, a baby in Merlin's arms, cooing and laughing. Merlin was the only one who could stop him from crying when he held him … then Daman was a little boy, he and Merlin were running through the woods, playing. Merlin looking at Daman, older now, and saying, "Don't worry little brother, I'll always look out for you. I've got your back." Him embracing Daman in a hug. Suddenly men appear. Merlin screaming, reaching, fighting against the arms of men twice his size and strength. Flames all around, the forest completely alight. Swords clashing. Daman screaming out, screaming, reaching, shouting for Merlin, for his brother, "Merlin! HELP ME!"

Flickering images of the flames consumed a crying Daman as he screamed for his brother again, "MERLIN!"

"DAMAN!" Merlin screamed as he sat bolt upright, his eyes opened wide. His chest heaved as he breathed heavily, catching his breath, recovering from the horror that he'd just relived. His whole body was covered with sweat, despite the cold, and there were tears running down his face.

"Merlin?" He had woken Arthur, who was now looking at him, utterly perplexed. It was so unlike Merlin to have trouble sleeping. He was so lazy, he usually slept like a log, at any chance he got. But Arthur was concerned. His friend had just woken up, he looked like he'd been to hell and back and there were tears streaking down his face. He was traumatised, and that scared Arthur a little. Merlin may be a twit sometimes, but he was no coward, and he'd endured his share of suffering in life head on. What could be so terrible he'd react like this, having nightmares about it?

Merlin sat there for a moment, still breathing heavily, as more tears spilled over, sliding down his cheeks. For that moment he was completely unaware of his surroundings, they were irrelevant, he didn't care, he was completely shell-shocked, it didn't matter who was watching, he had just relived the nightmare of his childhood, his life before he came to Camelot, his reason for leaving!

"Merlin?" Arthur asked again, concerned. Merlin had been acting strangely, reserved and distant, completely spaced out half of the time, starting from the moment they saw those two young boys in the clearing. But what could they have to do with anything? Arthur sat up straight, a worried expression on his face, "Merlin, are you alright?"

For a few seconds Merlin remained silent, then, with only a quick glance at Arthur he got up and began to walk away into the darkness.

"Where are you going?" Arthur stood up, "Merlin!"

"I need some air!" Merlin replied without so much as turning round.

"What?" Arthur just stood there, completely perplexed at what was going on. But, too confused and surprised to do anything, he let him go.

Merlin walked quickly on, striding through the forest, far beyond the edge of the camp, and any safety and comfort there was. But he was hardly concerned with comfort now, and the last thing he wanted was more sleep. There was no healing for this hurt, no comfort for this sorrow. Time had done its job, but no matter how long you wait, the pain never stops, it only … numbs a little as time wears on. Merlin and experienced the death of enough people he loved to know that. First Daman, then Freya, then Will, then his father … it was like he was cursed.

Merlin continued walking on, as fast as he could, fumbling through in the darkness, continually wiping his face in a desperate attempt to remove the tears, as though if he could get rid of them he could get rid of the memories, of the pain. Distracted and too emotional to do anything or even think straight, he lost his footing, tripped over a root and came crashing to his knees. He didn't bother to get up, he only sat there, kneeling on the ground in the dark woods, as he wept. And he stayed there, losing all sense of time, rocking back and forth a little. He leaned over onto his side so that he was sitting, rather than kneeling, and he backed into a tree trunk, where he sat, leaning against it for support as he cried. He looked up into the sky, tears still streaming down his face, his hands clawing at the ground as all the pain swept over him.

Perhaps it was because he'd shut himself off, he'd distanced himself from it all and put all kinds of defences up, almost never even thinking of his brother, or maybe it was because it had been such an unexpected reminder, but this time the pain was so much more intense. It was as though he was a young man again, not yet twenty and he was there, experiencing it all again. Dreams could be cruel, but never before had they been so real and vivid.

As memories flooded through his defences, walls now in ruins, he moved around, shaking his head, covering his eyes, as though he didn't what to do with himself, how his body should cope with this. As the image flickered before his eyes again and again, the same thing over and over, and the sound of his screaming was all Merlin could hear, it was more than he could contain. He screamed out as loud as he could, the pain audible even in his shout, as he threw his head back and hit it hard against the trunk of the tree he was sitting against.

His outburst over, and the pain perhaps that tiny bit less consuming, he let his legs stretch out, and he just lay there, slumped against the tree for hours. A great tiredness swept over him, and after some time he simply closed his eyes and was asleep almost instantly.

No more nightmares troubled him that night; he slept peacefully, not dreaming at all. However he was rudely awakened several hours later by a concerned but also furious Arthur.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice was raised, even though he was right next to him, "Merlin!" Arthur shook him and his eyes began to flicker open.

"Mm?" mumbled Merlin as he started to focus, his head spinning a little.

"Merlin! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Arthur looked into Merlin's eyes, obviously worried.

"Yeah … I'm fine." Merlin replied.

"Merlin, what the hell were you thinking?" Arthur said, almost shouting, as he pulled Merlin up off the ground roughly, "Where were you last night? I had men searching everywhere for you!"

"I was … here." Merlin replied, the hurts of last night momentarily forgotten as he looked at Arthur defiantly. I can sleep wherever I chose, thank you very much! he thought to himself.

Arthur continued to rant at Merlin for what must have been half of the next day! He was absolutely livid that Merlin had run off in the middle of the night, more so that he was not found until early the next morning, because though he was incredibly reluctant to admit it, he'd been downright scared about Merlin. They were investigating some strange signs which pointed to sorcery, perhaps some strange magical creature. Merlin could have been hurt, and all night long Arthur had searched, terrified that something had happened to him. But what concerned him most was that Merlin was still distant, and though not quite as zoned out as he had been the previous evening, he was obviously not himself. He'd woken up in the middle of the night, sweating, crying and screaming someone's name …

"Why did you run off?" Arthur turned to look at Merlin as they rode on through the forest.

"For the last time, Arthur, it's nothing!"

"It's obviously something!" Arthur replied.

"Well it's not something that I want to talk about!" Merlin snapped back, and the conversation abruptly ended as Arthur decided to leave it at that.

Later that day they picked up a trail, which appeared to be some sort of creature, moving through the woods and heading west, beyond the border into Cendred's kingdom. Arthur made the decision to keep going, knowing he'd never hear the end of it if he let this creature escape, and the last thing he and his father needed was one more fight. They'd continued west until they were far beyond the border and the creature's trail was become more and more clear. The more vigorously they pursued, the further away from Camelot the creature went. Soon they found themselves venturing closer and closer to Merlin's village, Ealdor, and the way things were headed, it looked as though they were going to end up there within a day. Of course, no one but Merlin had noticed, because besides him, only Arthur had ever travelled to Ealdor, and he wasn't paying much attention to their location in relation to his servant's home village, he was more focused on the hunt for this magical creature they were now chasing.

The closer they drew to home, the more Merlin thought about Daman and his past. Although now, they were more pleasant memories, and it didn't hurt as much to remember them. He thought of his childhood, his home, his brother and his family, how he'd lived and what life was like for him then.

Merlin had been born into a poor family, there was no denying it, but they were happy. They had each other, and though Merlin's father had disappeared from his life when he was just a small boy, too young to really remember him at all, they were still a close-knit family. Daman was born about five months after Balinor left (though Merlin remembered almost nothing of that too), and so Merlin's little brother was brought into the world.

Of course, Merlin had discovered he had magic before he was remotely capable of understanding any of it, moving objects with his mind before he was able to talk. His mother loved him very much. She'd often watch him, playing with what little they had, making games from the most absurd things, with a smile on her face, but always a little concern as well. She meant well for both of her boys, but had always been at a loss as what to do with Merlin. How was she supposed to bring him up? How could she deal with something like that, a lonely, single mother with two young children, the eldest displaying talents, the likes of which were unheard of?

Daman had magic too, in fact, though that was something which remained undiscovered until he was considerably older. His talents were nothing compared to the natural gifts that Merlin possessed, but he did have powers, nonetheless. Hunith had never really known what to do with her boys, and instead had simply brought them up the best way she could, tried to teach them what she knew about the things that mattered, right and wrong. But if truth be told, for the most part, she just stood back and watched them grow, let them teach themselves what she could never know, things about their magical abilities and how to cope with them. Merlin was like a mentor to his brother, and there was an understanding between them, an unbreakable bond. They weren't just brothers; they shared the same power, the same gift, a sacred thing, to be used properly, for good.

It was in their teenage years when Daman's talents really blossomed, when Merlin was about fifteen years old, and Daman shooting past twelve. As their bodies began to change, so did their talents, and Daman soon found himself, when in tight spots, or angry, or extremely upset, doing things he couldn't explain. His eyes would glow that same yellow-gold that Merlin's always did when he moved things with his mind, and Daman's true abilities came to light.

Merlin smiled as he remembered the first time he'd seen Daman use magic …

He was sneaking up on Daman, spying on him from behind the bushes, trying to see what he was doing. Daman was sitting there, eyes closed, with something in his hands. He face was screwed up in concentration and he was muttering slightly under his breath.

"What are you doing?" Merlin stepped out from behind bush.

"Nothing!" Daman stood up and turned to face him, obviously angry, "None of your business!"

"Daman …"

"If I tell you, you won't believe me!"

"Try me." said Merlin plainly.

"I … I made a flower move earlier, when … well when it happened doesn't matter, but this flower Mary had in her hair, I saw it move, and … I think … I think maybe I did it."

Merlin smiled a little, "Daman it was probably just the wind -"

"No it wasn't! I'm telling you I moved it! It sort of … opened up and blossomed … I was trying to do it again, but I can't!"

"Look," Merlin began, "not everyone is the same -"

"Don't give me that!" Daman retorted.

Merlin stood up straight, now taking an offensive position, "Look, I didn't ask for these powers, alright? They just happened! I never wanted this, I was just born with them. It's not like -"

"Yeah, but it's not like you hate them! You love it! You've always loved it!"

"Daman -" Merlin began, but he was cut off.

"No, it's not fair!"

"Daman …"

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me! But I don't care! I know what I saw, and I moved it, something … something happened! It was magic. Even if you don't believe me!"

"Daman!"

"What?" he almost shouted.

"Look at the flower in your hand." Merlin's face was an expression of happiness and slight confusion.

Daman looked down, only to see that the flower he'd picked up from the ground only a few minutes ago was now completely dead and withered. Merlin grinned, and they looked each other in the eye, now a mutual understanding of this new bond they had.

For months Daman didn't do much, and it frustrated him, but Merlin taught him that some things took time. They soon found that Daman could only do things when he was emotional. As Merlin later discovered, the flower that spontaneously blossomed was in fact in Mary's hair as Daman received his first kiss. And of course he was angry and frustrated when they were arguing shortly afterwards. But they had no teacher, no book of spells, nothing to guide them and tell them how to use the power they had. Instead they only had each other, which drew them closer together, for the several years that followed as they grew up into young men.

Daman looked up to Merlin, he was his hero. Whenever he was confused or upset about something, there wasn't even a question about it, he simply went to Merlin for advice. And Merlin leaned on his little brother too, they were there for each other. They'd often stay up night after night, talking about girls, about life, about magic, about everything! They were two entirely separate people, with different personalities and values, but they shared a closeness that few people ever experience.

The older they got, the more time they spent with different people, and Merlin's childhood friend, William, was someone who knew Merlin very well, and spent an awful lot of time with him. But Daman didn't feel threatened or invaded, they were all close, and though there may have been things Merlin would share with Will that he never spoke of to Daman, he didn't care, because he knew they had something special.

Merlin smiled as he stared blankly into the distance as he remembered it all. Tears had welled up in his eyes, but he smiled, because they were nice memories, memories of the childhood they'd shared and the love they'd had for each other. It was in so many ways, pleasant to think of his brother, perhaps because he thought of him so little, blocked all reminders and memories from his mind. But it was like thinking of him made him feel … closer, as though he were there again in some capacity.

They'd had many talks about magic, about their gifts. And in many ways it made Merlin very sad that he didn't really have anyone he could talk to about it anymore. He confided in Gaius, all the time, but he knew that he didn't really understand, and that held him back from really telling him everything. And he only came to Gaius when he had something on his mind, some pressing issue or question or concern, he never went him just to talk, to chat about magic. Though he could hardly blame Gaius for that, it wasn't him, it was the laws in Camelot that made him live in fear. But he was glad that he could have been that person to his little brother when he was still alive. Any questions or upsets he had, he always came to Merlin, and they both knew that. And sometimes, often in fact, Merlin didn't know the answer, he couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear, but that was okay, because it wasn't a one way street, Merlin voiced his concerns to Daman as well, and together they became more attuned to their power and learned to use it well.

Though memories were still flooding over him, Merlin felt much better, perhaps for finally beginning to face up to his past. Smiling a little as his mind wondered again, his thoughts drifting back to his childhood, he continued on, following on his horse closely behind Arthur, who had finally stopped ranting at him and left him in peace.

However, later on in the day Arthur brought it up again. This time, he wasn't just ranting at Merlin for running off, but was asking, the concern he felt clear in his voice.

"You're sure you're alright, Merlin?" he turned, looking at him as they rode now, side by side.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Merlin said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem … distant, distracted. Look, what happened last night … I'm just concerned, that's all …"

"Look, I'm sorry I ran off," Merlin interrupted, not liking where this conversation was headed; "I just needed some time alone. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Merlin. Well … yes, it is. But what I mean is …" Arthur paused for a moment, taking a breath, "We've known each other for several years now. I'd care to venture that I knew you, and we've slept outside when on hunting trips and the like, many times. Enough times for me to know that it's not every night you wake up screaming."

Merlin was a little shocked at Arthur's confession of his worry for him, but remained reluctant to speak about anything in his past, "Arthur, I'm touched that you're concerned about me but really, I'm okay."

"It doesn't look like it, Merlin."

"I know, I just … I'll be fine. I don't really want to talk about it." Arthur looked away, a little awkward, and for a few moments they continued on in silence. But then Merlin continued, "You know when you lose someone you care about … a lot?"

"I suppose so, yes." Arthur ventured.

"My life before I came to Camelot was really hard. I was lonely and dealing with a loss. It's just … been a long time since I let myself think about … them. That's all."

"Daman?" Arthur asked. Merlin remained silent and looked away, but Arthur continued, "You're father or something like that?"

"Something like that, yeah …" Merlin's voice trailed off.

But there was no more time for awkward silences. Arthur's attention was suddenly drawn away from their conversation and diverted to something he'd heard. He put his hand up, signalling all the men to stop. Dismounting his horse, he slowly took a few steps forward, drawing his sword.

For several minutes he edged closer, his sword at the ready, several knights following behind him. Eventually Arthur came to a stop and his body relaxed somewhat as he lowered his weapon slowly.

"What is it, Arthur?" Merlin appeared behind him, leaning over his shoulder to see what Arthur was staring at on the floor.

"Tracks. Have you ever seen anything like that, Merlin?" Merlin stared down at the tracks this creature had left behind. They were odd, quite paw-like, but the wrong shape to be any kind of animal he knew of.

"No." he said plainly.

"No, me neither." Arthur said, "Which means it's most likely we are dealing with some sort of magical creature."

"Wonderful." Merlin said the heavy sarcasm clearly noticeable in his voice.

"Come on, now we've got a trail it'll be easier to track. These are fresh too, wherever it's headed, we're catching up."

They continued on for several hours with little conversation, Merlin and Arthur's conversation completely forgotten to him in light of the new information. However, when they once again set up camp shortly after nightfall and they sat opposite each other, both close to the fire, the atmosphere suddenly became very thick and Merlin found he was avoiding Arthur's gaze somewhat.

Merlin took a breath, "It was my brother." he said, finally looking into Arthur's eyes.

"Hm?"

"The … loved one that I lost. It was my brother."

"Your brother?" Arthur said, very taken aback, "I didn't know you had a brother …"

"I never spoke of him to anyone, not even Gaius. It was just how we dealt with it … or didn't."

"We?"

"My mother … she never got over it." Merlin shook his head, tears beginning to well up unconsciously in his eyes, "Losing a son … it just broke her. She was never the same, really. She used to be so happy. But afterwards, she became … quiet, different, very protective over me. It's why I left for Camelot – she sent me away because she thought I'd be better off there."

"I'm sorry." Arthur said, "I … had no idea."

Merlin smiled vaguely, a little touched, and grateful for Arthur's understanding and sympathy, "I've lost so many people … sometimes it feels like I'm cursed or something …"

"Why would you say that?" Arthur asked.

"Well … My father, Daman … Will."

Arthur simply remained silent, somewhat at a loss as what to say. How could he respond to that? What could he possibly say to make that okay? Merlin was right – he had lost several loved ones, and whether it was his fault or not, Arthur could offer little comfort.

"What happened?" Arthur eventually asked, a little tentatively.

"We were playing in the woods …"

"Like those boys we saw." Arthur said, the pieces finally fitting together.

"Yeah." Merlin breathed in slowly, his voice becoming thick and the words not wanting to come out, "There was a fire … these men were fighting, they surrounded us and … Daman got hurt. I tried to get to him, but I was too late." Merlin fell silent as tears spilled over and he wiped them away, "He was my responsibility," he said, taking a breath, "my little brother and … I let him down. He's dead because I … I wasn't good enough. I failed him and now he's gone."

"I'm sorry. But it wasn't your fault. I'm sure you did everything you could."

"It wasn't enough." Merlin said simply, shaking his head, "I was supposed to watch out for him." Merlin paused, closing his eyes for a moment as he regained his composure, trying so hard to fight back the inevitable tears, "After … it happened, I was never really the same. Like the biggest part of me that I'd known was just gone, and it never really came back … like I'm a shadow of who I was then."

"It must have been hard for you."

Merlin nodded a little, looking into the fire, "He was everything to me. I didn't know how to live without him, life just seemed so … pointless."

After a short pause Arthur said, "You know Merlin, there's so much more to you than meets the eye."

"Yeah," Merlin smiled, you've no idea, he thought to himself.

"I know we're near to your home village … if … I mean, if you wanted …" Arthur looked away from Merlin, "we can go and visit. After we've killed this creature, you can go and see your mother. My men can wait."

Merlin looked up at Arthur, completely stunned, but incredibly touched. As much as he put up defences when conversing with Arthur about personal issues, he really cared about him, and he knew it. He was grateful for the kindness that Arthur had shown to him. Arthur often had a tendency to be a bit of a bully, to tease Merlin, and so often completely misunderstand him. But this time there was no agenda, he wasn't being patronising. He was being … nice.

"Thank you." Merlin said, rather at a loss as what to say.

Arthur simply nodded and they both simultaneously arranged their blankets and settled down for the night beside the fire.

The following morning they followed the tracks of the strange creature further and further west, continuing on, edging closer and closer to Ealdor. Though they did converse, the subject of Merlin's younger brother never came up, and Merlin was grateful that Arthur had been understanding and respectful enough to let Merlin have his time to himself, now that he knew the huge burden he was carrying.

A little distracted, Merlin didn't notice the forest changing a little, and didn't consciously recognise any of the places that he should have known were so familiar to him. Still talking with Arthur, and lost in a completely mundane and ordinary conversation, he didn't realise that they were in fact, approaching the all too familiar ground that was far too painful for him.

As he turned to face the direction they were walking in, he abruptly stopped, staring intently ahead of him, totally shocked and overwhelmed by the acute pain and memories that completely knocked him off his feet. Arthur turned to see what he was staring at, wondering why he'd so suddenly stopped talking.

They were staring out onto a large patch of forest where there were no trees. Everything for quite some way had been burned to the ground. 'There was a fire.' Merlin's voice echoed in Arthur's head, and he then understood. He was completely lost about what to do.

"Merlin …" he began, but with no idea what he was even going to say, he fell silent as Merlin, not listening, dismounted his horse.

He was still staring, walking as though in a trance. Suddenly the world around Merlin disappeared, and his surroundings had gone, Arthur, the knights, all became irrelevant, none existent. He wasn't a man anymore, he was a teenager, only just turned eighteen years of age, and he was walking through the forest, right here, right where Merlin had been standing on the burnt out ground. Only it wasn't burned out anymore. Together, Merlin and his brother were walking through the forest, still very alive and full of colour.

Merlin and Daman smiled deviously as they looked at each other, a mutual understanding of their train of thought.

"Daman," Merlin said, grinning, "When are you going to learn that you're still a little squirt? You may have grown up a bit, but you still can't beat me."

"Yeah?" Daman asked, eyebrows raised, "Go on then."

Merlin shoved his brother playfully to the ground as he slammed his feet into the ground, sprinting ahead, giving himself a head start over his little brother. They ran for quite some time, until Merlin was overwhelmed by the pain in his side. He stopped, leaning against a tree, gasping. Laughing, but still obviously out of breath, he walked slowly in the direction that Daman had run ahead of him, until he arrived in a clearing.

"'Little squirt' eh?" he mocked, punching Merlin playfully on the shoulder.

"Oh shut up!" Merlin said, smiling.

Utterly exhausted, they simply stood there for a moment, still short of breath. Until they caught each other's gaze again and begun to giggle. Daman placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder for support, too tired to both gasp for breath and laugh at the same time. But Merlin stopped, standing up straight and his face fell. He turned around, looking in horror as several armed men in leather clothing stepped into the clearing, almost completely surrounding them. Daman's head turned as well, in sharp movements, fear painted all over his face.

The men edged slowly closer, most of them smiling in a way that Merlin found a little creepy, but also terrifying.

Merlin felt Daman's hand slip into his. He gripped it tightly, also scared out of his mind. But no matter how scared he was, he was there for his little brother. That was his job. And they were getting out of this, one way or another. They had to.

"Please …" Merlin said, putting his hands up in the surrender position, "we haven't got any money. I swear, we're poor, we only have the clothes on our backs!"

One of the men stepped further forward than any of the others, his sword at the ready. He grinned maliciously as he said, "Who says I'm after your money, pretty boy?"

But before they could even react, a dozen more men charged into the clearing, men in chain-mail and armour – Cendred's knights. The bandits looked up, shocked, and abruptly turned their attention to the new additions to the scene.

"Dammit!" the leader screamed, "They found us!"

Recovered from the momentary shock of the situation, Merlin grabbed his brother's sleeve and pulled him with him as he ran, as fast as he could to the edge of the clearing and away from all the chaos. But their path was suddenly blocked by a man falling to the ground dead, with an arrow through his neck. Merlin turned, swerving round him and continuing on through the sudden, onset chaos they were in, but soon they found themselves having to dodge another man, this time a knight, flying backwards, having been kicked hard in the chest.

Merlin looked around frantically – more men had invaded the scene and very quickly this once peaceful clearing had turned into a blood-bath! It was all happening so fast, there was no time to think, and amidst all the screaming and sword-swinging, it was impossible to get out! Cendred's knights had picked a fight with some gang of bandits, and now that the blood-shedding had ensued, Merlin and his brother were caught in the cross-fire!

"Merlin, behind you!" Daman screamed, as Merlin turned just in time to dodge a flying dagger which flew past his shoulder and imbedded itself in the tree behind him.

"Daman!" Merlin yelled to his brother as the distance between them grew, the fighting making it impossible to stay together, "Daman, look out!" he screamed as a deranged looking man charged towards Daman, taking a swing with his sword.

Daman turned only in time to get slashed across the arm. Merlin's eyes widened in horror. He wanted to be there, at his side, to kill that man himself, right then and there for hurting his little brother, but by this time they had been separated so far apart that almost the entire battlefield lay between them.

"Daman!" Merlin screamed, taking a leap towards him, only to get knocked down as a man toppled into him, having just dodged a sword. He looked up from the ground and saw his brother backing away from a heavy man in leather, who was taking shots at him with a mace, edging closer and closer.

Daman ducked and swerved to avoid the pointed weapon, but he had no means of defending himself, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he got hit. He bent down to the ground, picking up the sword from a dead man and began to swing it clumsily. He was no fighter, but something was better than nothing!

Merlin stood up, dodging and ducking every second from some new, dangerous object which came flying in his direction. He began to run towards his brother, only to be tackled by two men and come crashing to the ground again. Both without weapons, one punched his face and the world began to swirl. Merlin looked up, his eyes flashing yellow, as one of the men suddenly tripped up, as though someone had grabbed his leg. Merlin climbed to his feet, ready to face his other attacker, but suddenly the man jerked upwards as a small silver point became visible through his chest. Merlin watched in horror as the knight behind him pulled the sword out from the man's torso, now completely covered in blood.

"What are you doing here?" the knight screamed at Merlin, "Get out, run away! You'll get killed!"

"No!" Merlin yelled, turning his head, frantically searching for his brother, "My brother!" But the knight, along with two others, grabbed Merlin and began to pull him away from the fighting, towards the edge of the clearing.

"NO!" Merlin screamed as the men began to drag him from the scene, "No! Daman!"

Merlin dug his hells into the ground, pushing, fighting for all it was worth. But the men holding him back were twice his size and so much stronger than him …

Merlin's eyes frantically scanned the clearing for any signs of his brother. And he suddenly saw him, Daman, sword fighting with a man several times his size, and losing, badly.

"Daman!" he screamed, desperately trying to break free of the grip of the men holding him back, but they refused to let go, fighting to get him out of the battle. Normally, Merlin would have gladly gone with them, any excuse to escape this frantic chaos, but not today, not when there was even the slightest chance that Daman might get hurt. And Daman was in danger; he was sword fighting in a desperate attempt to stay alive, though he had never even picked up any kind of useful weapon in his entire life before.

Daman was losing energy, and blood. He looked down at his arm, which he was clinging to with his other hand, as blood seeped out of the deep gash in his arm. He looked up as the man came swinging at him again and Daman raised his injured arm to protect himself from the blow, the clang of metal on metal ringing in his ears as their swords clashed.

Merlin, still fighting the men holding him back, looked up just in time to see his brother's stomach get slashed, then punched in the face with the back of someone's sword. As the men holding him began to drag him away from the scene, Merlin screamed out, kicking and squirming, trying so hard, so desperately to get to Daman, but it was no use, the men were too strong, there were three of them and they were all twice his size. Tears began to streak down Merlin's face as he screamed, "DAMAN!"

Daman looked up frantically. He was scared, more afraid than he had every been in his entire life. It wasn't just the battle which terrified him, but the fact that he was doing this alone, and his brother was nowhere to be found.

"Merlin!" he screamed, desperate, "Merlin, help me!"

But momentarily distracted in the frantic search for his brother, Daman didn't see the large man moving towards him. He turned in time to see his great fist come crashing into his face, after that everything became extremely blurry.

Merlin saw the man hitting Daman, over and over, beating him. He knew if he continued, he would literally beat his little brother to death! He watched in horror as the man pulled a dagger from its sheath and he raised his hand.

A new surge of strength, like nothing he'd ever felt before, an anger, a desperation, completely washed over him and he looked up, screaming. His eyes flashed yellow and the earth began to shake, the men holding him being thrown back, all in different directions, away from Merlin and came crashing to the ground several metres away.

With almost everyone on the floor, or injured, he ran as fast as could towards Daman, screaming his name, though he could barely hear his own voice amongst all the noise around him. He came crashing to his knees beside his brother, who lay bleeding on the forest floor. Merlin took him gently in his arms, holding him close as the battle continued around him, some people scattering, others still fighting on their way out. But he didn't care, nothing else mattered right now, only Daman, only this moment.

"Hey." Merlin said as he looked down at him. Daman looked up into Merlin's eyes, and he welled up with tears again, "You're gonna be okay."

"Merlin …" Daman winced, obviously in a lot of pain.

"Don't worry, it's okay." Merlin said, tears spilling over and running down his cheeks. Daman tried to talk again, his face screwed up in agony. Merlin's breathing got heavier, "You're hurt, don't try to move."

"Merlin … I'm … I'm getting cold." tears began to slide down the side of Daman's face, "I'm scared."

"Of what?" Merlin smiled at his brother as the tears spilled over onto Daman's blooded clothes, "You're going to be fine. I promise. I'll look after you, I always do, that's my job. You're my little brother, I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

For a few moments they simply stayed there, looking at each other, both crying, and Merlin looked around to the quickly disappearing men, "HELP!" he yelled, his head turning, desperately hoping for someone to come, "Help me! My brother, he's hurt! Somebody help me, please!"

"Merlin …"

He looked down at his little brother and smiled, "Look, remember when I told you that I'd take you to the waterfalls of Berganon? Well … we're going to do that, you'll get better and I'll take you there. We've got so much stuff to do!" Merlin looked around at the ground Daman was lying on, "Come on." he said, as he braced himself, then began to pick Daman up, "We need to get you home. We need to find help."

"AAARGH!" Daman screamed in pain, as Merlin lifted him off the ground, his face contorted into an expression that Merlin simply couldn't bear to look at. He looked frantically down at Daman … surely it was only a slash? The sword had grazed only his side! But as he inspected Daman's wounds amongst his torn clothes, he discovered a deep wound near Daman's ribcage, where he had obviously been stabbed.

"Daman?" Merlin said, his eyes searching for some kind of answer, some comfort, something to make this okay, as he knelt back down on the floor again.

"Merlin, I can't … my …" Daman began to cry, trying to mask grunts and screams through his gritted teeth. Merlin looked down as the realisation dawned on him that his brother was dying in his arms and he was completely powerless to stop it.

"I don't know what to do." Merlin said as he looked at Daman, the tears spilling uncontrollably now, "I don't know how to make this okay, I …"

"Merlin … you're my big brother. You've always been there for me. I can't … thank you enough."

"You don't need to thank me!" Merlin cried helplessly, uncontrollably, the words barely able to come out, "You're my brother, it's what I'm supposed to do! I love you, I can't just let you … I can't."

Daman coughed, and began to splutter as blood came out of his mouth. He tried so speak, so desperately wanted to say something to Merlin, anything, just to let him know … but it was useless, he could barely breathe, let alone talk.

"Daman? No! No, no, n-n-n-n-n-no, I'm going to save you! I have to …" Merlin began to shout as he got more and more frantic, "What's the point in my powers if I can't save you?" He yelled.

Daman looked up into his eyes, both fear and pain clearly visible in that look. Merlin looked down at the wound his hand was covering, then back into Daman's eyes, just in time to see the life leave him.

"Daman? Daman! No, no … no, Daman you … you can't! Daman! DAMAN!" he screamed, as he wept uncontrollably, nuzzling his face into Daman's dead body, holding him close.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" Merlin screamed as he began to rock back and forth, still clinging tightly to his brother's body. Barely even aware of what he was doing, or the power that was surging through him, feeding on his extremely heightened emotions. He looked up into the sky and screamed. His eyes flashed yellow and the entire clearing around him set alight.

The flames climbed higher and higher, the fire spreading to the surrounding trees, burning everything to the ground. The flames even began to creep towards the middle of the clearing, where Merlin was knelt, grasping the lifeless and bloody body of his little brother tightly in his arms. He didn't care, let the fire consume him. His brother was dead … so was he.

Merlin had no idea how much time passed by, he was completely out of time now, nothing else mattered, there was only the moment, this moment, right now. But soon the screams of frantic villagers, searching for Merlin and Daman could be heard in the distance. "Merlin? Merlin? Daman? Merlin!" the cries grew closer, but Merlin barely noticed.

"Merlin?" someone screamed, now standing near the edge of what was the clearing, using their arms to shield their face from the intense heat from the flames, "MERLIN!" they screamed, even louder now they could see him, a figure, crouched down amongst the flames, as though he didn't care.

"I've found them!" the villager yelled, as he edged forward, trying to find a safe path through the fire, "They're over here, in the clearing!"

"MERLIN!" another man yelled, having spotted him too, "Merlin what are you doing? We have to go!" but Merlin didn't respond, he hardly even heard them. He simply remained there, kneeling on the ground, Daman's limp and broken body lying in his arms. "Merlin where's Daman?"

At the sound of his brother's name, Merlin turned around, the fire illuminating his tear-stained face, as he stared at the man quite blankly, as though not really seeing him, or perhaps just not really caring. When he turned the man saw that he was holding something, no … someone.

"Merlin?" he called, now worried.

Merlin slowly stood up, wobbling, barely able to stand, still weak from the overwhelming emotions and completely drained from using such powerful magic, holding Daman loosely in his arms. Still crying, he just stood there, a huge forest fire between him and rescue. But he didn't want to be rescued, he couldn't be rescued. What was the point?

The man ran forwards, dodging the flames as best he could, making his way towards Merlin, but Merlin, too weak to even stand, collapsed to his knees, still holding Daman close to him.

"Merlin! We have to go!" the man yelled as he arrived beside Merlin, "You're going to die if we stay here!"

Merlin remained silent, just looking ahead, blankly.

"Merlin … we've got to go. Now. Let Daman go, we have to get out of here!"

Merlin turned his head slowly and looked up into the eyes of the villager, "I'm not leaving him." It came out as a whisper, barely audible, but the look in his eyes said enough to the man.

More villagers appeared beside him, all telling him he had to go, he had to leave his brother behind and get out. But Merlin didn't move. One of the men pulled Merlin's arm, but Merlin simply clung tighter to his brother's body, "I'm not leaving him!" he said.

"Merlin!" one of the men screamed above the noise of the consuming fire, raging all around them, "We have to go now! Leave Daman, he's dead!"

Merlin shot a look at the man. He'd said the words he refused to hear, the words he couldn't bear to accept. The tears run dry, and completely drained of energy, Merlin simply looked at the man, crying with no tears.

One by one, all four men took hold Merlin and began to pull him away. Merlin tried to resist, but eventually he was dragged, kicking, fighting and screaming for his brother, from the fire.

"Nooo!" Merlin yelled, "NOOO! DAMAN!" he screamed, over and over, "I can't just leave him!"

"Merlin he's dead, he's gone!" they insisted as they pulled with all their strength to get Merlin out of the clearing and away from the flames which had now reached Daman's body.

It shouldn't have been so hard for four grown men to pull a teenage boy from the fire, but something in him was holding on, still fighting to be with his little brother, the power in him pulling him back to his brother.

"Please!" Merlin cried, helplessly as he was slowly taken away, "Please! He's my brother! I won't abandon him! We can't just leave him there … Please! Daman! DAMAN!"

Eventually, they arrived, many of them with burn injuries, at the edge of the fire, where they laid Merlin down on the ground. Still fighting, he used all the strength he could muster to get up again, and began to stagger back towards the fire.

"No! Merlin, no!" yelled one of the men as he jumped into Merlin's way, holding him back again, "Merlin! Merlin, he's gone! He's dead, I'm sorry … he's gone."

Merlin's cries had become only feeble whimpers now, "Please … please … my brother … Daman … I can't … please!"

As he was wrestled to the ground by the other men, and his strength left him, his body relaxed and he looked up at the scene he had just left behind. Daman's body was just visible through the flames, right in the centre of what was the clearing. His little brother, his beautiful little brother, was gone. He was everything to him, and now he was gone. And he'd just abandoned him, left him there to burn.

Covered in sweat, dirt and blood Merlin sat up on his knees and stared at the scene before him. Once again he began to cry, tears streaming down his face, his whole body shaking a little as he wept. As the men slowly let go of him, and all stood back, also grieving for Daman and Merlin's loss, he sat there, his knees in the dirt, weeping. He simply sat there, watching the fire consume so much of the forest and all else that remained in it, trees crashing down, burned through to a point where they could no longer stand. The tears streamed endlessly down his face, splashing down in great droplets, soaking the ground around him. Soon the tears began to fall from beside him and above him, as storm clouds gathered in from nowhere and began to shower the entire plane with rain. Merlin looked up to the sky and closed his eyes, the tears still streaming down his cheeks, mingled with the rain to a point where he couldn't tell what was rain and what were his tears. Perhaps they were the same, his power extending to the weather as the sky cried with him.

He was ready to die with his brother … he wished he could have had that chance.

Merlin swallowed slowly and opened his eyes, now a fully grown man; taken back to that moment when he lost everything he ever had and ever was. He realised how wet his cheeks were and became aware that he had been crying. But he didn't really care too much; he was in too much pain to really notice the several dozen eyes that were fixed on him.

The ground beneath him was all dead and dry, all the trees now turned to charcoal, blackening his knees. Dead and buried like the memories had been for so long.

Arthur took a step forward, the black ground crumbling beneath his feet. Merlin quickly wiped away the tears on his face and stood up, turning to face Arthur. But Arthur looked at Merlin with an expression of great pain, as though he sympathised with what he was going through, and only wanted to help. He nodded slightly at Merlin, and turned away, busying himself with something completely unnecessary, giving Merlin all the time he needed.

Merlin wiped his face and took a deep breath. As incredibly painful as this was, perhaps this was what he really needed – to face his problems, these memories he never wanted to think about, experiences he wished he'd never had to go through. He'd reopened a deep wound, but maybe he could finally begin to move on and heal now, if he addressed it properly.

At first he had been inclined to refuse Arthur's offer of going to see his mother in Ealdor, but now he knew that was exactly what he needed. He needed to see his mother, just to hold her, and tell her … tell her that he loved her. They were both broken people after they lost Daman, and he wasn't expecting to be able to fix the problem just like that, but maybe to show her the care that she needed. He forgot sometimes, as much as he cared about her, that she too had lost people. Her husband left, and was now dead, one of her sons died, and the other … well nothing was ever really the same afterwards.

Merlin turned and walked back towards Arthur. Arthur turned to see him coming towards him, and looked at him, into his eyes. They simply stood there for a moment, until Merlin nodded slightly, and smiled. Arthur returned the small nod, and smiled back, then he mounted his horse and called for his men to get ready to continue riding.

They continued on for several hours through more forest terrain, and Merlin was extremely grateful for the way Arthur had handled all of this. He'd not poked and prodded into Merlin's personal life too much, and once he knew what he was going through, he'd given him the space he needed. Merlin smiled as he thought of what it would be like if Daman was still alive, if they'd come to Camelot together and he'd met Arthur. He decided that they probably would have been a bit too much to handle had they come together, still young and still happy, two brothers, probably much more mischievous than Merlin had been in a long time.

"You alright, Merlin?" Arthur said, turning to him, looking at him warily, still a little concerned about how Merlin was feeling. It can't have been easy coming to the place where he lost someone he loved so much.

"Yeah." Merlin said. He paused for a moment, then took a breath and began, "Arthur … Arthur, I -" but he was abruptly cut short when a humongous creature appeared from nowhere in the woods right in front of them.

Arthur and Merlin both turned to see the huge and terrifying creature standing before them growl as it shifted itsweight momentarily, wary of the knights in front of it. It had a huge head, much like that of a wild cat, but it was about four times the size of any normal creature Arthur had ever seen. It had odd paws which Merlin was willing to bet were responsible for the trail they'd been following.

Arthur's hunter instinct kicked in almost instantaneously and he drew his sword, all the men behind him, save Merlin, doing the same thing.

"Formation!" Arthur yelled. Within seconds, they had the creature surrounded in a tightly packed circle.

The creature put up a hell of a fight, one in which Merlin got knocked off his horse and went flying into a tree, where he collapsed on the ground, barely conscious, and Arthur soon found himself pinned underneath the beast's giant paws. Merlin looked up from his very uncomfortable position on the floor amongst all the tree roots. Still dazed, and his head spinning he tried to make sense of what he could see in front of him. The knights were all running around, some still on their horses, one or two on the ground like Merlin, most still putting up a fight. He squinted as he concentrated as hard as he could, then realised the horror of what he was seeing – Arthur, trapped beneath the creature's incredible claws, completely smothering him, pushing him into the ground effortlessly.

Merlin had been in this situation before, in fact only a few hours ago, when he'd been completely transported back to the moment where he'd lost all he ever loved. Not again. This time, he wasn't going to let anyone else die because he couldn't save them. Back then, Merlin had no idea what to do, he was young and inexperienced and his magic was still completely untrained. Not anymore. Now he knew what he was doing, he was used to being in situations like this, he was the prince's servant, it came with the territory.

Leaning on the tree for support, Merlin staggered up and looked around frantically – no one was looking. At least he certainly hoped not. Using a spear which was lying on the ground in front of him, his eyes flashed yellow as he used magic to send it flying towards the creature. It hit it straight in the chest, and the beast jumped back immediately on its hind legs, exposing itself to Arthur for the perfect, deadly blow.

Arthur got up as it fell backwards and came crashing down on the forest floor. He turned, in search of the man who had thrown the spear which almost undoubtedly saved his life. His eyes fell upon Merlin, and his eyebrows furrowed, asking the question without him having to say a single word. Merlin smiled and turned away, walking towards his horse.

Arthur smiled as he watched him go. Merlin really was incredible! A useless fighter, terrible swordsman, and not that intelligent. But sometimes, somehow, he'd do something that was just completely ingenious, and shock Arthur totally speechless.

Merlin smiled as he mounted his horse again. Though he often wished he could go back and change it, save Daman, make it all okay, he had learned so much since then. And all that had helped him save Arthur's life … countless times. And Merlin would not be the man he was, nowhere near as mature, wise or as sensitive and kind as he was, if it had not been for every experience in his life, including the traumatic and heart breaking ones. So perhaps, just maybe … maybe it was worth it.

Within only minutes they had arrived at a large field. Merlin smiled. At the edge of that field was a fence, and just beyond the path across from it was … home. Ealdor, his life, his past … his mother.

"You can wait here." Arthur said to his men as they reached the edge of the field, "Take a few minutes to rest, you're not needed here."

"But … sire," one of the knights began, "We have to get back to Camelot. We can't afford to be spending time mulling around in Cendred's kingdom! If we are discovered …"

"I said, we can wait here." Arthur said firmly, turning to his knight.

"Every moment we stay here, we're all in danger, my lord!" he protested.

"You're a knight of Camelot," Arthur put his hand firmly on his shoulder, "I thought you were to have no fear in the face of danger?"

The knight turned away and sighed.

"You may not like it," Arthur said, turning to face him as he walked away, "but he's my friend, and we're staying for his sake."

Arthur turned to see Merlin opening the gate that lead into the village. He walked onwards, moving towards the houses which were packed tightly at the centre.

Merlin made his way closer to the small area of farming land they had, where he could see his mother working the ground. She looked up as he drew closer, paused for a moment, squinting to see if it really was him. Then she dropped her tools and stepped over the small fence onto the path. For a short moment they stood there, simply looking at each other, and Merlin smiled. Then he ran towards her, embracing her in a tight hug.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed as he held him tight.

But Merlin had forgotten everything he'd meant to say, the apology he'd planned, it all faded away to the back of his mind. He just held her tight as the tears began to fall down his cheeks.

"Merlin … Merlin what's wrong?" she asked as she let him go and held him out in front of her, looking into his eyes, searching, "My boy?"

"I'm sorry." Merlin cried, "I'm sorry … I should have done better, I'm sorry."

"Merlin?" she looked into his eyes, "Sorry for what? Merlin, what's going on?"

Merlin paused for a moment to breathe, avoiding her gaze. Eventually he looked up into her eyes, "Nothing." he smiled.

She gazed at him, searching for some answer in his eyes, confused and concerned.

"You know that I love you?"

"Of course! Merlin … what …?"

"It's okay." Merlin said, stroking her face gently, "I just … after everything that's happened, it's sometimes hard for me to see what I've got. But I do have you. And I love you … more than anyone else on this earth … you do know that, right?"

Hunith gave up, knowing he wasn't going to give her any sort of straight answer. Instead she just hugged him again, the tears welling up in her eyes at seeing her son in such pain, "My boy … Merlin I love you more than anything else I know. You're my prized possession."

For quite some time they just stayed there in that embrace, holding each other to let the other know that they were loved.

"Is that Arthur?" she said as they pulled away from each other at last, and she looked ahead of them to the field beyond the fence, where Arthur was standing, with several dozen knights behind him.

"Yeah …" Merlin said, smiling, "We were on a hunt and he … he let me come and see you."

She sighed, "Merlin you shouldn't have! Arthur's in danger here, with Cendred now gone this kingdom is in total chaos, there are knights and bandits and armies everywhere, still fighting and killing but with no purpose."

"I think they'll be able to handle them." Merlin said, smiling.

"You be careful now, my boy." she said as they said goodbye at the gate a little while later.

"I will." said Merlin. He paused, hesitating for a moment, then looked up at his mother, "Will you do something for me?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Thank Aria and David for me … I know it's been years, but I never thanked them for saving my life." Merlin said, as he looked over her shoulder to the village he was once again leaving behind.

Hunith stared for a moment, stunned and confused. But she soon regained herself and smiled at him, "Yes … of course. I will."

"Thank you" Merlin said as he hugged her goodbye. He then turned and walked away without looking back.

Within no time at all, they were riding through the forest, covering all too familiar ground as Arthur and Merlin had their usual banter. When the conversation ended, an almost awkward silence fell between them. A silence Arthur broke with, "Is your mother alright?"

"Yeah." Merlin said, turning to look at the Prince, "Yeah, she's fine."

"Good." Arthur said simply.

Merlin looked away for a moment, then back at Arthur. He swallowed, hard, "Arthur … thank you."

"For what?" Arthur asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Everything." Merlin said simply. Arthur had been so sympathetic to Merlin's situation, he'd made all his men stay and wait just for his sake, just so he could go and see his mother. He had been incredibly kind to him.

"You too." Arthur said, "It's the least I could do."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, a mutual understanding between them. An understanding of what they'd both done, what Merlin had gone through in the forest, and how grateful he was for the kindness Arthur had shown him.

"So … you're okay?" Arthur asked him, smiling a little now.

Merlin smiled back, a genuine, happy smile, "Yeah."

"Cos you know," Arthur said, "Anymore running off in the middle of the night and I'll put you in the stocks … although … I don't really have any on me right now. I'll just have to put you in a head-lock until we get back to Camelot."

"Yeah, sure!" Merlin laughed. Arthur looked over at him and began laughing too. Their giggling continued for some time, as they rode on, travelling back to Camelot, back to civilisation; to a new life where, perhaps now, they could both live with a few less regrets, and a little more happiness.