Disclaimer: Unfortunatly, I don't own Merlin. The TV show belongs to the BBC. I wish I could own it, though... that would be awesome.

This is my first Merlin fanfiction (actually my first EVER fanfiction) so I would really appreciate it if I could get some reviews... I would love to improve my writing so much! I hope you enjoy it :D

"Merlin is there any soup left?" a blonde haired man called from the log, next to four other men. They all wore silver armour, all polished to an inch of their life, reflecting the flames that crackled and flickered in the dark forest they would temporarily have to call 'home'. The blonde man was scraping the bottom of a wooden bowl that had been emptied of its contents by the hungry man.

The man he was addressing too was a little bit smaller, with scruffy black hair which was as dark as the night sky above them. His pale skin reflected the moons light better than the fire, and managed to stay in its white complexion whilst the five men sitting together on the log had much more colour to their faces. He wore a red neckerchief, dark blue shirt with a brown jacket over, with black trousers and worn, leather boots that had moulded to his feet from years of use. Merlin, as the man had called him, turned round to the blonde figure who waved his bowl around with impatience, and sighed.

"Can I have an answer, Merlin?" The blonde man asked impatiently.

"Um, well... yes, there is food, but I haven't eaten yet so I saved it for my dinner," Merlin finally replied to the man.

"I thought you would have packed your own food, like all the other trips," the man retorted.

"I forgot."

The man sighed.

"Arthur, don't look at me like that, you know what I'm like," Merlin said.

"Merlin," Arthur started. "Of course I know you, and I've known you long enough to know that you should have packed your own food. No food for you," Arthur said, pushing Merlin out of the way of the pot and picked at the last remnants of the soup the servant was saving for himself. It wasn't much, but it satisfied Arthur. The king enjoyed toying with his servant, throwing pillows in his face when he was late, making him do extra work around the palace for him, and insulting him all the time. By the way Merlin responded, with witty remarks and his rebellious streak, Arthur always thought Merlin was taking it lightly, and, in a way, it had strengthened their bond.

He was both wrong and right.

Of course Merlin enjoyed Arthur's company, and that Arthur treated him more as a friend than a lowly servant, but this... this was far enough. Too many nights Merlin had been deprived of sleep from roaming around the woods with Arthur. Too many nights Merlin had been treated like a fool by everyone, even after he saved Camelot from enemy after enemy, all without a word to Arthur, or he'd have his head. Too many times Merlin put his life on the line for Arthur, too many times. Of course, Merlin was willing to save his king, especially now that they were closer than ever before, but at first he trusted the word of a dragon, a dragon who he'd trusted, only to be betrayed and watch Camelot rise in flames as the kingdom burned in the rage and the anger of the supposed 'Great Dragon'. Arthur would never allow his servant – no, his friend – to starve for a joke: he was serious.

Merlin kicked himself for forgetting food for himself as he watched Arthur lick his lips, consuming the last remains of the soup that had made his mouth water with saliva and his stomach churn with hunger. Now he'd be expected to wash and dry the dishes, feed and prepare the horses to settle down as well as put out the fire once the knights had gone to sleep. Merlin couldn't even remember why they were out here in the forest, in the dark and the cold.

"You really should remember to listen to me in the future," the arrogant king said in the servants face. If Arthur hadn't been so blind, he would have noticed the anger in Merlin's eyes at that comment.

"Oh really," Merlin replied.

"Yes, really,"

"So, you expect me to do the rest of my chores on an empty stomach, and survive the next two days while you and the knights selfishly eat the food that I prepare for you," Merlin snapped.

Arthur froze in his place. He'd only meant to joke around, but now the pain in Merlin's eyes had been translated into speech, a speech that made Arthur snap his head up in guilt, but also defiance. What if Merlin was just replying wittingly? He highly doubted it, but Merlin had to be taught a lesson. He couldn't go gallivanting around Camelot doing only the chores he seemed fit whilst relaxing during the day. He may be brave, loyal and the most interesting person Arthur had ever known, but he was also lazy. He needed to be taught a lesson once and for all.

"Very brave Merlin, but learn this and learn this quickly. You cannot just choose which chores you can and can't do, whether you forget or not. I've had those excuses too long now. In future, when we go on hunting trips, or patrols, or we're searching for sorcerers, pack you OWN food!"

Those words stung Merlin. The bitterness, the venom in Arthur's voice told Merlin he wouldn't be winning this battle. If Arthur was really his friend, he would have let him have the last bit of soup, but he didn't. He had to be his arrogant, supercilious self and let Merlin starve for the next few days. Maybe Arthur would crumble, but Merlin couldn't be sure. He lowered his head in defeat as Arthur left him standing by the dirty pottery, and headed towards the horses.

Arthur made his way over to the knights as Merlin slowly walked away into the shadows, the knights' faces looking shocked and disgusted by the way Merlin and Arthur had handled themselves. Most of them were more disgusted in Arthur's actions; Merlin had been more loyal than any of them could ever be, yet Arthur refused him food. They thought they knew their leader better than ever before since his reign began in Camelot, but their hopes and thoughts shattered as Merlin shrunk into himself and continued to obey Arthur as he'd always done. Always a servant.

"What was that for, Arthur?" Gwaine asked the king, his brown hair swaying lightly in the air as the wind blew.

Arthur sighed. He knew this would be coming. "Merlin needed to be taught a lesson."

"What, a lesson to not touch our food and starve? He barely eats as it is," Gwaine retorted.

"No, he needs to know that he can't go around and disobey me all the time."

"If he did listen to you, and stopped being himself, would you like him anymore, or would he be another dispensable servant?" Gwaine questioned.

Arthur looked into Gwaine's eyes which were growing with anger. Gwaine had always been a better friend to Merlin than Arthur, always saving Arthur's life on behalf of Merlin. Since he'd become a knight, his bond with Arthur had grown, and he'd always be willing to lay down his life for Arthur, but now that Merlin had abandoned the group for the dark to save himself from Arthur, their bond was crumbling by the second. It was as if Merlin was leading Arthur to something great, something better than who he was before he met Merlin. Sir Leon often told the knights of how Arthur is a different man to who he was before Merlin arrived and became his servant, and Gwaine looked to both of them for friendship, for encouragement in Arthur and wisdom in Merlin. Gwaine had always thought Merlin would make sure Arthur would never resort to becoming who he was again, but his hopes faded away as soon as the red neckerchief around Merlin's neck became barely visible in the shadows. Arthur was going to pay.

"Look at you, Arthur," Gwaine stated. "I thought you were something different, something new in the line of the Pendragon's, but all I see now is the ways of your father. He treated servants as if they were nothing more than that: servants. If they spoke back to him, they would be punished. If they were late, they would be punished. Any more problems and they'd be fired. He would never think about having one as a friend, or even as a wife should I say, or is Gwen just another maid? Do you order her around when Merlin isn't there?" Gwaine's rage was building higher and higher as he rambled to a guilty Arthur. The other knights stared in shock and horror as Gwaine tore down the emotions inside their king. He was only human, after all.

"I'm sorry," Arthur mumbled.

Gwaine positioned himself comfortably on the log. "Excuse me? A bit louder."

Arthur raised his head. "I'm sorry," he spoke with much more diligence.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry for treating Merlin in that way. I never should have eaten his food or spoke to him like he was nothing, because he isn't. He's my friend, not just my servant. Never just my servant. I would never-"Arthur choked. "I would never wa-want him to feel like he was nothing. I'm sorry Gwaine... I'm so, so sorry for making you feel like I'm an arrogant pig," Arthur stuttered. The cold was bearing down on him, as well as Gwaine's cold eyes which began to ease as he realised his victory had been proclaimed to him.

"Thank you for being honest, Arthur, but do you mind telling Merlin that?" Gwaine suggested.

Arthur looked over at Gwaine again, then returned his gaze to the fire. So many things burn in fire: wood, food, houses... people. He felt as if he were a raging fire that had consumed Merlin, leaving him a burnt, charred person of who he was supposed to be. He felt as if his flames had grown, like the knights and the trees should be burning with him, but they were somehow protected. It was only Merlin that had burned. Gwaine was the water, the cool liquid that put out the fire, dampening the wood, making it impossible for the fire to burn again with the same wood. Arthur just needed to have some of his own water to cool Merlin, so that he could stop burning as the fire continued to rage on him. That was how Arthur felt: he was the fire, Merlin was the victim, and Gwaine was the water, the saviour. He looked back at Gwaine and the rest of the knights, their faces showing encouragement in Gwaine's words. He nodded then headed out into the shadows where the horses were, and, hopefully, Merlin.

He treaded carefully in the shadows, but made sure he was heard. He didn't want Merlin to be shocked, and try to run from Arthur. "Merlin, I'm sorry. Can I see you please? I want to talk to you, apologise. Merlin?" Arthur called out. He made his way to the horses, and petted them for a few minutes while preparing some form of speech in his head. When Merlin didn't show, Arthur went to the nearby water supply where Merlin might have gone to collect water for the washing up. He wasn't there. In the dark, Arthur couldn't see the ground, which he was searching for clues as to where Merlin had gone, and upturned leaf that would tell him whether he went east or west. If there had been light, Arthur would know.

If there had been light, Arthur wouldn't want to have seen the ground below him at all.

After searching for Merlin for an hour, with no luck, Arthur returned to the camp. All the knights had settled down for the night, all except Elyon. Arthur had first met Elyan whilst trying to save both Gwen and Elyan from Morgause. Little did he realise that Morgana had been working with her all along. It was only until she revealed herself to be an ally with Morgause did Arthur realise she had been in league with Morgause since she returned. Elyan had been a very valuable knight, who was skilled enough to help rescue Arthur's father from Morgana's and Morgause's grasp. It was even more uplifting to know that he was Gwen's brother, and that he could help keep him settled in one place, something Gwen had longed for her brother to do.

Elyan was prodding the ground with a large stick, impatience and tiredness creeping all over his face. Arthur stepped forward and sat down next to Elyon, breaking his trance over the stick. Elyan looked silently at Arthur, then all around the dense clearing they were in. No Merlin.

Arthur sensed Elyan's confusion. "I couldn't find him," Arthur said solemnly.

"I'm sure he'll return in the morning. He may be collecting firewood,"

"Yes, he's probably doing that," Arthur said more to himself than to Elyan. "I'll wait for him, you get some sleep,"

"Thank you, Sire," Elyan said hastily before heading to the ground to sleep.

Arthur chuckled. "It's not Sire, it's Arthur,"

"Oh, sorry Arthur. Good night." Elyan tucked himself under his robe and let his eyelids flutter down into sleep.

Arthur looked back at Elyan and remembered the journey the young man had come through. It must have been so strange for him to settle down after moving around all his life. He couldn't really remember Elyan living in Camelot, or ever visiting Gwen. As he thought about it, Gwen didn't become a maid until about the age of 15 or 16, just a few years younger than Arthur, but the same age as Morgana. She'd proved herself to the king that she was the best young servant in Camelot, and, to make Morgana feel comfortable, he gave her Gwen. They became friends even quicker than Merlin and Arthur, but now that friendship was destroyed as Morgana was consumed by evil and magic. Elyan had been moving around most of his life, and even when their father was executed for use of magic he didn't turn up to say goodbye or comfort Gwen. It puzzled Arthur, but Elyan was an independent man, and refused to have a servant, like most of the knights. It was one of the reasons Arthur respected him.

Arthur waited and waited and waited for Merlin to turn up with more firewood, if Elyon's prediction had been true, but the thin, pale servant didn't show up. Arthur was becoming sleepy by the second, and the firewood was running out. Arthur hoped that Merlin would be alright, and snuffed out the fire's flames, making the air instantly cold around him. He then crawled to a space next to the knights, wrapped his cloak around him, and settled down for the night, praying that Merlin would return in the morning safe and sound.

If only Arthur knew.

Suddenly, Arthur's shoulders were being shaken violently. His name was being called by different men, all of whom he recognised. There was Sir Leon's voice, defiantly, and Gwaine's too. Elyan's voice was much quieter, but Percival's voice was booming in his ear. He opened his eyes, only to shut them again as bright light dazzled his vision, making him blind. He blinked twice, and his vision cleared, revealing all the knights standing around him, some looking around the area they had settled in during the night.

No Merlin, though.

At that notion, Arthur sat up, and the voices grew silent. Instead of bringing silence, though, they brought the most horrific colours of sound Arthur had ever heard.

As Arthur stood up, screaming raged throughout the woods. It was so loud that it must have been amplified using magic, but so painful and so fearful that it must have been real. It deafened Arthur as he ran, so much so that he couldn't hear his feet stomping on the ground floor, so much so that he couldn't hear the knights' protests as he continued through the forest, so much so that he couldn't hear himself think. How could he think? Then, as he stopped in the thick of the green forest, something chilling changed in the sound and in the air. Pleading. This person, this terrified person, was pleading to whoever was doing this to them. The pleading was so powerful that tears began to stream down Arthur's face. He turned around on the same spot for a few minutes, the knights soon surrounding him. He couldn't hear what they were saying over the pleading, and continued to search for the screaming and the pleading. He came to a northern-easterly direction, and ran at full speed through the dense forest. The knights followed him swiftly, swords at the ready. Then, something deadlier than the screaming and the pleading hit Arthur: laughing. Evil laughter. Female laughter. The laugh grew louder and louder as the pleading and the screaming became more hysterical, more scared, and it send a stabbing pain through Arthur's chest. He knew who was making the pleas, and who was mocking them. He just hoped the faces of those two people were not who he thought they were.

The noises grew louder in Arthur's head, and pounded away in his stomach. His nearly doubled-over in pain as the sounds grew, but he knew he was getting closer to saving the victim. The knights hauled him through the worst of the sound. The ground began to shake, and the sounds began to merge and blur, making Arthur's head hurt. The pain was almost unbearable.

Then, silence fell.

The knights stopped, and so did Arthur. They could finally hear each other again.

"What... was that?" Arthur huffed.

"I-I don't know," Percival spluttered. The sounds had taken the toll on the knights.

They all took deep breathes, and regained their composure. The pain in Arthur's head and chest ceased, and they continued in the direction that the ear-piercing sound had led them on. Arthur managed to lead the knights deeper and deeper into the hospital, to find a large hill in the middle of the forest.

"That's strange," Leon commented. "I've never seen that before."

Arthur and the knights then agreed to check it out. Arthur, Leon and Gwaine took the left side of the hill, Elyan and Percival took the right side. They went silently, always sneaking glances at the ground to check for leaves and sticks which may attract attention. They readied their swords, but didn't manage to ready themselves for what they would see in the next few seconds.

Arthur was the first to see: he saw a man lying on the floor on a flat area, his brown jacket and blue shirt riddled with rips and tears, and stained with blood. His black hair was skewered, ragged, and all over the place, and his red neckerchief was lying abandoned on the floor next to the unconscious man. Arthur knew this man too well.

It was Merlin.

Regret, guilt and fear fled through the air and it became taught in everyone's breath as the king walked painfully over to his servant. After taking two steps, Arthur increased his pace and found himself running to his helpless friend. He reached for Merlin's neckerchief and wiped away some of the blood that covered his face, revealing bruises along his face as well as deep scars which came with the blood. More tears escaped Arthur's eyes.

Merlin was limp, and dangerously cold. He felt as if he'd been outside the whole night. Arthur picked his loyal servant- no, loyal friend- in his arms, and wrapped him tightly, encasing him inside his body. Merlin was so cold, and Arthur was the next best thing to a fire. Arthur silently wept into Merlin as he remembered their last conversation, about how horrible Arthur was to Merlin, and how devastated Merlin looked when he hung his head as Arthur shouted at him. Arthur had never felt so sad in his entire life, not even after his father had died. Uther had never given Arthur so much respect, so much loyalty or as much friendship that Merlin had given him. Merlin had ignored everything a servant should and shouldn't do when it came to acting in front of the royal family, especially Arthur. He'd taught Arthur how to be equal, and Arthur suspected that the people preferred Arthur to Uther: Arthur was a fair and just man, and didn't judge people as easily as Uther did. The only thing he did judge was magic, but, even then, Merlin was having an effect on Arthur when people with magic came into contact with Arthur. Arthur could not lose Merlin.

Then, a groan escaped from Merlin's lips, loud enough to allow Arthur to release Merlin from his grip. He coughed, turned to his side, and blood began to spill out from his mouth.

"Merlin? Are you awake? Please, Merlin, I need you!" Arthur pleaded. Merlin stopped coughing, and returned to his coma-like state. All Arthur wanted was to see his buffoon of a servant smile up at him, make a witty remark and allow Arthur to apologise. The king held onto that thought, hoping to see his servant smile once again. Arthur continued to wipe away the blood around his mouth, when a huge gust of wind sent the knights in all directions around Arthur and Merlin, knocking them unconscious. Then, the woman laughed. Arthur gripped the neckerchief in his hand, stood up straight, and turned around, slowly, to face her.

Morgana. Of course it would be Morgana.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my precious brother," Morgana spat.

"Did you do this to him?"

Morgana cocked her head slightly, and sighed. "Now, now, Arthur, I thought we would be having a brother-sister reunion... I thought we could catch up on all the times we've missed." Morgana smirked at the last sentence.

"Tell me, Morgana! Did you do this to Merlin?" Arthur shouted. He didn't have time for games, and neither did Merlin.

Morgana stared into his eyes, his bright blue eyes. They were like Merlin's, dazzling and beautiful, and, like Merlin's, were filled with fear and desperation. It was strange, the effect Morgana had over people. Instead of her fearing the king, the king feared her, but, then again, they knew each other, and it terrified Arthur that Morgana could change so quickly.

"Morgana, tell me now!" Arthur ordered.

The witch smiled slowly. "Of course I did it, Arthur," she said, walking smoothly towards Arthur and Merlin. "And, you know what the most surprising thing was?"

Arthur stayed frozen in his spot.

"Do you really want to know?" Morgana asked. "The surprising part was, I enjoyed it."

Something inside Arthur died. He'd known for a long time that the old Morgana was gone, but this confirmed it. She enjoyed beating someone who was such a good friend to her in the past. As Morgana approached him, he raised his sword and stood defensively over Merlin. She wasn't going to touch him again.

"Arthur, do you really expect me to be stopped by a mere blade? You've forgotten that I have magic, and there is nothing stopping me from killing you right here,"

"Then why aren't I dead?" Arthur asked, anger and hysteria rising in his voice.

Morgana smiled at him. "I'm so glad you asked." She turned around, and walked around in a slow circle whilst explaining her plan. "You see, Arthur, it's been so long since I've been in control of Camelot. I used war to gain the throne, but, now that everyone I can count on is dead, the only way I can claim the throne is if you stand down as king-"

"Morgana, you should know now that I will never stand down as king," Arthur interrupted.

"You think I don't know that?" Morgana asked, annoyance in her voice. "So, I thought I'd make a bargain with you..." she trailed.

Arthur did not like where this was going.

In a flash, Arthur was knocked back from his position, and to where the knights lay on the floor. His head hurt from the landing, and when he looked up, Morgana was holding Merlin in her hands. His stomach wretched at the image.

"If you want to see Merlin ever again, I expect you to revoke your title," Morgana said, venom stinging in her voice. "But why would you give up your title for him? He's just a servant, isn't he?" Wind grew around the area, and leaves danced and twisted with the wind, forming a tornado-like display around Morgana and Merlin. A bright light grew inside the cluster of leaves, and Arthur covered his eyes with his hand. When he lowered them, Morgana and Merlin had disappeared from the clearing. The leaves settled, but Arthur's did not.

He would save Merlin, no matter what it took.

So... what do you think? To be honest, though, if you're reading this comment, I'm happy, because it means you read the story :3 Thank You! :D