A/N: Hello everybody, and happy New Year! I said I would have this posted before 2014, and I realize that this is slightly past that point (at least over here), but only just. Well, here's the first part of my new story. I've got most of it already written, and I plan on having six parts, so updates should be fairly regular, probably once a week or so. Anyway, I hope it's alright!

DISCLAIMER: IWIOMBIDN (I wish I owned Merlin but I do not)

Beyond the Solitude

Chapter 1

Crash.

Arthur looks up from his papers in exasperation, all but glaring at his clumsy manservant. Merlin, who is already busy picking up the items he knocked off the table, does not notice, but still gives a hasty 'sorry, sorry' as he scrambles about. When he finally stands up and replaces everything to its proper position, Arthur expects him to turn and grin at the prince's predictable annoyance, to purposely wait for the insult that would surely come and then use the opportunity to make some witty remark in return, as is usual in these situations. Instead, he watches in slight surprise as the boy barely even acknowledges the prince before continuing in his chores, going straight to the laundry pile to gather his master's soiled clothes. Something about the servant is off, Arthur thinks to himself, though he cannot say why exactly he thinks such. Perhaps it is simply the way he has seemed so distant the last few days, so distracted. Or maybe it's because he seems so eager each day to finish his chores quickly and escape. Maybe it's just because his wide, familiar smile hasn't been as frequent as normal these past few days, though when it does make an appearance, it seems nearly as genuine as always. Whatever the cause, something about Merlin's demeanor has changed, and Arthur's not quite sure if that's a good or a bad thing. He wonders if he should be worried, looking into the matter, or if it's nothing, just him imagining things and being over-sensitive to his servant. It's at times like these that he wonders if he should even bring such a thing up, or go on acting like the king he is, the royal who does not pay such detailed attention to the habits of his manservant.

But as Merlin leaves the room, the moment to speak and to wonder is gone, and he goes back to his papers and reports. Eventually, with his mind swimming in words and maps and taxes and court matters, any worries or thoughts of his friend drift from his mind. He is not reminded of them until that night, when Merlin does not show up with his dinner; although what was only a small seed of worry before has now grown to something more, he decides against his better judgment to leave the matter be, at least for the moment. Whatever is eating at the man, Arthur thinks, he's probably better off dealing with it alone. All the same, he resolves to talk to Merlin about it the next day over breakfast, to get to the bottom of this. Because he'll be damned if he has to spend another day pretending he doesn't care about the well-being of his manservant or his personal matters. With that resolve in mind, he puts himself to bed and allows his mind to remove the matter from his thoughts, if only temporarily. He falls asleep fairly peacefully, and sleeps well. At least until he wakes up very late the next day, wondering why he wasn't woken earlier. Merlin must have slept in, he thinks, seeing the sun streaming through his curtains. The idiot can't even do his… his… and then he remembers, the strangeness of his manservant, the distraction, the extra clumsiness, and then his absence last night, and now this morning as well. Starting to feel rather concerned, he gets himself relatively dressed and heads out, going to check the physician's chambers only to find that Gaius is out in a nearby town and will be back later that day. Merlin must be with his mentor, Arthur reasons, and that's the only reason he's out. Feeling rather better but still slightly bothered by it all, he heads off to the training field to make sure he isn't late for the day's activities.

When he arrives in the armory only slightly belatedly, the only knight to call him out is Sir Gwaine. "Oi, princess, I understand you need your beauty sleep to maintain your lovely looks, but this really has got to stop before you start setting an example for some of our younger knights."

Only faintly amused, Arthur gives him a withering look. "It's not me who enjoys the extra sleep. Take your case to Merlin, it's his fault I wasn't up when I was supposed to be."

At this, Gwaine's joking manner falls slightly. "Oh yeah, I noticed he seemed a bit preoccupied lately. Have you been giving him extra chores again?"

"Actually, I haven't given him much at all to do this week, other than the standard things. Yet he still seemed eager to get them finished quickly so he could run off to God knows where." It only reawakens the worry Arthur has been feeling when he realizes that Merlin is acting oddly enough that even Gwaine noticed. "I'll talk to him when he gets back with Gaius."

Gwaine frowns faintly. "He's off with Gaius? I thought the old man went alone…" He trails off, then shrugs. "I must be fairly preoccupied myself."

As he turns to get the rest of his armor on, Arthur is left unsettled. Had Merlin actually gone out with Gaius? It's true he would normally tell Arthur beforehand, but he has been so distracted lately…

Needless to say, Arthur finds it vaguely difficult to concentrate on training that day. And the moment it is over, he goes straight to find someone who can tell him exactly when the court physician will be returning.

Merlin rubs against the ropes that bind his hands yet again, feeling rather vexed. He isn't completely sure who it is that he's angry at, his captors or himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he berates himself, you should have seen this coming, you should have figured it out sooner, you should have been more careful, you should have been better… On and on he goes, telling himself what he should have done differently and how he could have avoided this situation. But really he knows his "should have"s and "if only"s aren't going to change anything, that they won't magically help extract him from his current predicament. If only he could magic himself out of here, he thinks, but he only just came to consciousness and is still feeling rather weak and disoriented with a headache coming on. And even if he did, say, break his bindings and run, he would probably be caught either here in the forest or when he got back to Camelot, and he definitely does not want to risk these men finding out about his magic if there's a chance they will re-capture him. And so he is left to his own self-reprimands. They come from his lack of anything better to think about, and there seems to be no way of stemming the flow that runs continuously through his brain. So he tries to distract himself instead in any way he can, rubbing his wrists against the scratchy rope, listening to the men's conversations, trying to think of a good way out of this mess. He is only successful with one of those endeavors, and so he casually turns his head to the side so as to better hear what the two men standing by the fire pit are saying.

"... Don't know… what… boy…"

"... Just a servant… but he'd want… I guess…"

It takes Merlin a moment to realize, through the snatches of words and phrases, that the irksome men are talking about him.

"... But… the damn kid… too much trouble… conspicuous..."

As they begin to walk away from the fire pit and more towards Merlin, he finds that he can hear more.

"I think… for now we… with the rest of 'em… eh?"

They draw nearer, now purposefully in Merlin's direction, and all he can think is that this can't be good. Sure enough, without so much as an explanation, one of them grabs him roughly by the arm and drags him into a standing position, arms still tied behind his back, and begins to march him forward. Merlin, vaguely light-headed from getting up too fast, can barely react for a moment and finds that his legs simply comply with the forced walk, but soon he regains his bearings and starts to feel as though he should be acting more rebellious.

"What's happening?" He demands of the man holding him. "What are you doing with me?"

"Be glad you'll live to see tomorrow," he gruffly replies before falling silent again.

"What's so great about tomorrow? Tomorrow's a Tuesday. Tuesdays are known to be unlucky. And it looks like it might rain."

When his only response is a glare from the other man who is walking alongside them, he knows that he should really shut up, but he finds that there is something vaguely enjoyable in the other men's irritation. All the same, he decides to stay quiet for the rest of the transportation. For that's what it is, he soon discovers; having decided not to kill him yet, the two men bring him to the site a few yards outside the main camp where the two other people are kept, both similarly tied up, and then they throw him to the ground. He is left alone with only the others, an older woman and a younger girl, and a surly looking guard with a sword for company. He groans at the painful landing that probably bruised his arm, and gathers himself up off the ground as best he can while his hands are still tied behind his back. He glances up at the armed guard, who stares stoically ahead, ignoring him. Merlin sits up and turns to look at the other two captives. The young girl, probably around ten years old, seems too shy or too nervous to meet his gaze but steals quick glances now and then; the woman, probably a little older than his mother, just looks at him as though giving him a silent appraisal.

"So," he decides to try, "are we allowed to talk or is that frowned upon?"

The guard promptly comes over to kick him in the stomach. He gives a small "oof" as the air in him exhales very unexpectedly, but he recovers fairly quickly as the guard returns to his post, leaning against a tree. Sighing, Merlin prepares for a long day.

After a few minutes he realizes how much less of a chance he has to escape now; any magic he may try to use would be witnessed by the innocent people who he hopes will make it out of this situation and back home one day, innocent people who probably wouldn't blink twice about running to the king with news of a sorcerer. And not to mention this new guard is constantly watching them and would probably at least raise an alarm should Merlin try anything, if he didn't take him down himself. All in all, Merlin realizes that he might be in a worse plight than he previously thought. And that causes him to realize something else. Underneath all his bravado and his snarkiness, hidden beneath all the calmness he seems to exude, he might just have a slight twinge of worry nagging at the back of his mind.

A/N: Sooooooo, as usual, any thoughts, comments or criticisms are much appreciated and can only help me improve. This time I will actually try to respond to reviews when I have a chance (shocking, right?). Thank you for reading the whole thing, it really does mean the world to me! :D

Happy 2014!

- SwitzD