Discalimer: Hey mans, I don't own anything other then the ideas. People= not me. ok? ok! enjoy
"There are soldiers out there, Merlin." Arthur told his friend. The boys turned to the door and stared. The door was hit.
It was hit again. And again.
Soon the door crashed in and the boys ran for cover.
"Get them!" A woman's voice called as men ran around the furniture to grab the two small boys. "Merlin and Arthur," The woman said. "You two have been very bad stealing from Auntie Igraine." The boys squirmed in the arms of the men and stared at the woman. She stood tall, her black hair curling around her shoulders and her dark blue eyes were staring at them. "Where is it boys?" Merlin, a short ten year old boy with dirty blond hair and green eyes looked over at Arthur, a tall ten year old boy with brown hair and deep green eyes. Neither of them said a word but looked at Igraine. "Where is it?" She demanded. Merlin knew better then to say anything. Caelia was more important then that. "Search the place. Don't let anything go unturned." Merlin and Arthur looked at a floorboard beneath Igraine. She called over some guard and had them tied together.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked softly. The second boy turned his head. "She's safe." Arthur nodded and prayed silently that the would not find Caelia, his little sister.
"Where have you put it?" Igraine shouted. Neither of the boys spoke. Arthur had to bite his tongue so he would not call out to her and tell her to run. Merlin took Arthur's hand in his and squeezed. "Burn the house down!" She called.
"No!" Arthur shouted.
Arthur sat up in bed, shouting, breathing heavily and sweating. "Artie?" Merlin asked as he jumped from his sleep and looked over his best friend. Time had passed, fifteen years to be exact, and Arthur still dreamed of his sister, of his family, of his past. "Arthur wake up, you're ok." Arthur had to shake his head and rub his eyes to realize where he was. The darkness around him seemed familiar and so did the voice that called to him. It was the same as in his dream, only deeper and rougher.
"Merlin, is that you?" Arthur asked.
"Yeah Artie. It's me."
"Where are we?" Arthur asked.
"The apartment. We're still at the apartment in Vienna. We haven't left here since the last heist we've done. The stealing of that painting in Paris." Arthur sighed and nodded to the darkness. He remembered now. They were in Italy after they had stolen a famous painting from some museum to sell to a big art collector with a wallet almost as big as his stomach. Arthur and Merlin were thieves. Well, mercenary thieves; they stole for the biggest payer. They were now in Vienna at an apartment under false names and waiting for their plane back to America to give the painting to their latest employer, Mr. Harry Vixen.
"When we get back to the states, Merlin, I think we need to take a trip." Merlin sat up in bed and swung his legs over the side.
"Sure thing Arthur. Where to?" Arthur thought about it for a moment in the darkness.
"Let's go see Excalibur." Merlin laughed.
"No problem Artie. I'm sure the old coot would love to see us. Not to mention if I call up the crew, we can get the others to start the show right away and bam, we'll be in business. Maybe the guy's got some jobs fors us!" Arthur nodded silently.
"If we're going to see him, Merlin, we'll need a boat." Merlin frowned.
"No." He answered sternly.
"We need Pendragon." Arthur insisted.
"No."
"You said that Pendragon's the best in the field." Arthur added.
"The pull can be done without Pendragon." Merlin said.
"Call the team, we'll leave tomorrow and we'll all go see this Pendragon." Merlin shook his head.
"I don't like seeing Pendragon." Merlin grumbled.
"Go to sleep Merlin. We'll talk about it tomorrow on the plane." Arthur turned over and huddled with his pillow.
"I don't like seeing Pendragon." Merlin muttered again.
"Shut up Merlin."