A/N I've decided to do a (series of) (probable) one-shots based on my story Stalkers. The first beginning of the chapter and the summary will probably be really similar.

Summary: Merlin always followed Arthur. And one time Arthur followed him. This time the Knights are coming too.

Set between series 3 and 4

I struggled to find a song, so in the end I used the one from alleywayqueen's fic Calon Lân.

Disclaimer: (Captain Ozone again) IDOM

Merlin always followed Arthur. And one time Arthur followed him.

Arthur had lost count of the amount of times he'd explicitly ordered Merlin to leave or stay behind; and the idiot had followed him anyway. It never seemed to stop. Even in times when everyone knew he was heading into potential mortal peril he followed. It was like having an extremely annoying, talking golden retriever.

It was time for him to repay the 'favour'.

Merlin was hopeless at stealth, most of the time (mainly when they were hunting). However, whenever he followed Arthur; Arthur never detected him until it was too late. This was, Arthur decided, proof that Merlin was purposely making the noise to scare off the fluffy bunnies or whatever furry creature he'd recently taken a fancy to.

He stopped for a moment, much better at noticing someone was following than Merlin seemed to be. At least one thing hadn't changed. Following him following Merlin were the Knights. Not all of them. Even Merlin would have detected that. Just the ones that had helped when she had taken over. They had recently taken to calling themselves the Knights of the Roundtable – a joke made by Gwaine when he'd been drunk. Merlin had overheard and liked the name. And thus, they were the Knights of the Roundtable.

Arthur thought this name was rather silly. Who wanted to be remembered for their table? But he did quite like the symbolism and whatever he'd talked about on that day. Sadly he couldn't remember much – it was all overshadowed by foster-sister-turned-biological-sister-gone-evil. He'd spent most of that day worrying about his father and trying not to be sick at the fact that he'd ever found her pretty. She was his sister after all. It was even more disturbing that his father had been trying to push them together.

"What are you doing here?"

Gwaine smiled cheekily. "Same as you, Princess." That smile was infuriating. "Following Merlin."

"I was not following Merlin."

All of the Knights nodded sagely, disbelieving looks plastered on their faces. Their distrust in the future King was almost insulting.

"Just following something that looks very much like Merlin."

Lancelot broke in, for some reason a worried look plastered onto his face. "And why, Sire, were you following him?"

"I wasn-,"

"It's not a crime to admit you care."

Arthur was speechless. He couldn't believe Gwaine was saying this. He did not care about Merlin. Much. If only Gwen was here. She'd get her brother and Lancelot to shut up in about five seconds. Was there any chance she had followed them?

Probably not.

Gwen was far too kind-hearted to follow someone like that. At least without Arthur or another of the Knights there to encourage her.

This meant he was on his own. Well, maybe Leon would help – he was the only one of the five that had been trained to obey his orders from childhood. And the death glare he was sending the Knights was a non-verbal-shut-up-or-I-will-kill-you-slowly-and-painfully-glare.

Gwaine and Percival were the only two unaffected. Gwaine because he was, well, Gwaine and Percival because Percival never seemed fazed by anything. What he wouldn't give to see something shock the man – and for him to actually display signs of that shock.

He was not willing to argue now – Merlin was getting away, and he'd waited too long for an opportunity like this. But he'd lost the trail.

Now Gwaine looked scared – at his you're-about-to-receive-a-slow-and-painful-death glare. Percival still didn't seem bothered. How ... irritating.

Leon broke in suddenly. "What was that?"

All of the Knights froze.

"What was what?"

"There was a ... noise. Some sound."

Gwaine smiled cockily. "Probably pheasant."

Everyone looked at him a though he was insane – he probably was.

"Merlin would've gotten it."

Merlin.

Who was currently alone in a forest making ominous noises.

This was not good.

It appeared the same thought had struck Gwaine, who now looked slightly more panicked than he did a few moments ago.

"Where's Merlin?"

All of the rest of the Knights caught on. All of them looked worried. Lancelot, who Arthur thought would look more worried and upset than Gwaine – Merlin and he had known each other longer, and were very close – seemed almost relaxed. How odd. And slightly off-putting. What did Lancelot know about Merlin? He had to have known something, or else he'd be as worried as the rest of them. He interrogate later. Now he needed to find Merlin.

"The sound came again." Leon seemed on edge, coiled and ready to strike, to throw himself on the defence.

They walked deeper into the forest, calling Merlin in a whisper, not wanting to attract whatever it was towards them.

Gwaine suddenly burst out laughing. "It's not a noise, its singing. Someone singing. And considering where we are, and who we're following, I'll give you three guesses as to who it is."

Merlin.

Merlin singing.

A very odd thought.

And from what Arthur could hear, he was good at it.

And it was Merlin.

"Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus,

Aur y byd na'i berlau mân,

Gofyn wyf am galon hapus,

Calon onest, calon lân."

Merlin's voice was almost hypnotic as the Knights crept towards that sound. Leon and Elyan looked gobsmacked at the thought of Merlin having any musical talent. Percival looked unfazed. Like usual. Gwaine and Lancelot just looked entranced at the sound.

"Calon lân yn llawn daioni,

Tecach yw na'r lili dlos,

Dim ond calon lân all ganu,

Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos."

Merlin was still singing. Arthur hadn't even realised Merlin had known another language – he seemed to have more than enough problems managing his own language most of the time.

He continued:

"Pe dymunwn olud bydol,

Hedyn buan ganddo sydd,

Golud calon lân, rinweddol,

Yn dwyn bythol elw fydd.

Calon lân yn llawn daioni,

Tecach yw na'r lili dlos,

Dim ond calon lân all ganu,

Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos."

Even Arthur lost his thoughts and doubts and deductions at the sound of Merlin's voice, high than should have been possible before shaking himself out of his trance. His fellow Knights seemed similarly enchanted.

Enchanted.

Merlin wasn't ... a sorcerer?

Of course not.

Who was there to enchant – it wasn't like he knew they'd followed him. Was it?

Anyway, it was Merlin – loyal clumsy Merlin. Who was always around when Arthur needed him, whether Arthur knew it or not.

"Hwyr a bore fy nymuniad,

Gwyd i'r nef ar adain cân,

Ar i Dduw, er mwyn fy Ngheidwad,

Roddi i mi galon lân.

They followed the music all the way to a lakeside, one of indescribable beauty. The sunlightreflected off the mountains and the water, the same shade as Merln's cerulean eyes. Merlin himself was perched on a small rock at the edge of the lake, still singing.

Calon lân yn llawn daioni,

Tecach yw na'r lili dlos,

Dim ond calon lân all ganu,

Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos."

The singing stopped, the last note wavering in the air.

The Knights were all crouched behind a bush, watching Merlin. He walked into the water and stopped when it was knee height, waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

After about ten minutes Arthur was about to get up and ask Merlin what he was doing, something ...odd happened. The water in the centre of the lake started to ripple and bend, like it was being twisted. From within this tossing stretch of water rose a figure.

A woman. A sorceress from the entrance she'd made.

A sorceress with long dark hair and a red tattered dress that looked familiar. A sorceress that was hugging Merlin. And kissing him.

Arthur's jaw dropped. A quick looks at his companions showed similar expressions – even on Percival's face. Percival was showing shock. At something Merlin had done (or was doing). How utterly unfair.

Gwaine let out a low whistle.

"Hello Freya."

Merlin's voice was audible even from the distance they were at.

So Merlin knew the sorceress – he hadn't just come across a random lake and started kissing people that came out of them. That might have happened. You could never tell with Merlin.

"Hello love."

She knew him as well. Apparently quite personally.

"I've not seen you in a while."

"I know," the girl – Freya – said, in a musical voice. "I've missed you."

"And I, you." Merlin pulled the girl into a firm hug, her head resting on his shoulder.

The lake was calm now, eerily peaceful and still; even with the two people standing in its waters.

"How have you been?"

"Alright. Better since I knew you were –kind of – alive."

"I wish I could've told you before."

"I know. It wasn't your fault you died."

Died? This sorceress was dead. And talking to Merlin. Was he hallucinating – Merlin with a girlfriend. A dead girlfriend.

Freya replied, "It wasn't Arthur's fault either."

His fault? The Knights all turned and looked at him.

"I know. But he still killed you."

"He didn't mean to."

"Freya, you died in my arms after I watched Arthur stab you and I couldn't help." There were tears in Merlin's eyes. Gwaine was glaring at Arthur for making Merlin look like that. Stab her? He'd never seen her before in his life, and apparently he'd killed her.

"You couldn't have helped – not without revealing yourself."

Revealing what? Arthur wanted desperately to know what Merlin couldn't reveal. And what the girl was doing if she was dead.

"Let's not have this argument again. I'll have to leave soon."

Freya smiled. "There is one good thing about being dead."

Which is?

"Which is?"

"I'm free. Free from the curse. Free from hiding – I can't exactly be killed again can I?"

"It's selfish of my but I'd rather you were cursed and alive – I could help control the bastet. Like I did the night you died."

Bastet. Cursed woman. Killed by Arthur. The escaped druid girl!

Who apparently hadn't escaped so much as being freed.

Merlin had been there the night she died. He'd loved her and been forced to watch as Arthur stabbed her. And he hadn't displayed any of his emotions to Arthur – or anyone judging from the astounded looks on the faces of the others. No pain from her death or anger from Arthur's actions. Nothing.

Arthur wondered what else Merlin had hidden from him.

He didn't like to think how much.

"But I'm glad you're free."

Merlin's arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her tightly.

Freya sighed gently and buried her head into the crook of his neck.

The Knights still looked incredulous.

"I wish I could do something – I'm Emrys, for goodness sakes." Percival stiffened; apparently this statement meant more to him than to anyone else.

"It's alright – I know you've tried. How's Kilgharrah?"

"He's fine. Annoying. Like usual. Why did God have to make dragons talk?"

Merlin knew a dragon?

"Because otherwise; you, Arthur, and the whole of Camelot would be very dead."

"The one virtue of his loud, confusing mouth."

Freya searched for another conversation topic – Arthur agreed, from those words alone he had no doubt that Merlin could start a very long rant on this talking dragon.

"How has your training been?"

Training?

"They try to teach me, and I just spend the entire time teaching them. I have a student at the minute – a proper student. She's been trying so hard."

"Who is she?"

"A seven year old called Annwn. According to Iseldir she has a 'crush' on me."

Freya laughed prettily.

Merlin's voice was indignant. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to teach someone who spends the entire time trying to catch your attention – and she's only seven. Not to mention the rest of the camp."

Camp? Merlin being mobbed by women? Gwaine seemed to find the notion as hilarious as he did.

Merlin continued, "I've had four marriage proposals this week!" Arthur's jaw dropped.

So did those of the other Knights.

Freya laughed.

Merlin just pouted.

"It's a shame you don't have me around."

"Believe me, love, most of them over the age of twenty-five already know about you. They grew up hearing the prophecies." What prophecies? Arthur still couldn't get over Merlin casually calling someone 'love'. Did anyone in Camelot know about his relationship with a dead druid?

"And those under that age either are too young – like little Annwn – or don't believe."

Merlin nodded in agreement.

The Knights were still in shock – apart from Lancelot who looked like he was expecting this kind of thing from Merlin.

"I hate the prophecies."

"I can see why Merlin Emrys the fabled warlock of legend – the immortal one. Bound by time, doomed to watch everyone die around him."

Arthur couldn't breathe.

Merlin had just been accused of being immortal and having powerful magic.

And he wasn't denying either. In fact there was a small rueful smile on his face that said he agreed with every word the woman was saying.

"I won't die until magic does."

"And magic won't die for another few thousand years." Merlin shrugged, his eyes sad.

"At least I'll have you and Kilgharrah."

"It's strange – it doesn't affect you as much as I thought it would."

"It's not happening yet. Anyway I've had years to get used to it and feel the pain and loneliness. I barely even notice it anymore. It's how I can get by with your death, Will's death and my father's death. Morgana's betrayal and what I was forced to do to her. You learn just to grieve, accept it and not dwell on the past."

What was he forced to do to Morgana?

And what the hell was going on?

All of these 'answers' were just making him more confused. Maybe he should leave before his brain spontaneously combusted due to all of this new information about his previously cheeky and completely-known manservant.

No he couldn't leave – it was getting far too interesting for that. It looked like Lancelot knew what was going on. He'd get Leon and Elyan to help him get it out of him later.

Sadly Arthur was staring to put some of the pieces together already, into a picture he didn't particularly like.

Merlin was an immortal, powerful warlock who knew (and regularly complained about) a dragon, and had a dead girlfriend who apparently lived in a lake.

He and Merlin would be having a long chat about keeping secrets.

Given by the looks on most of the other Knights faces, it would be a group discussion.

"How are the camps?" Camps? Guessing by the conversation topic, he guessed druid camps.

"Good. I put Iseldir in charge."

Merlin being responsible for who was in charge in a camp containing magic users. People with potentially dangerous magic.

Oh dear.

Freya looked quizzical. "Wasn't he already in charge before you?"

"I know. It's ridiculous. Magic wouldn't recognise it unless I appointed him second in command. It didn't exactly take long though."

"About five seconds."

"Yeah. But I wish it hadn't been necessary in the first place. Doesn't help with trying to ditch the stalkers."

"I know."

Merlin looked up at the sky.

"It's getting late. I have to go or else Prince Prat will have my head. Or I'll actually have to muck out the stables or something equally horrific. I still need to talk to Lancelot about the whole vanquishing of Morgana's immortal army – he can't mention Excalibur."

What was Excalibur?

Another thing to talk to Merlin about.

"Speaking of Excalibur, couldn't you have just given it back to me, as opposed to hiding it in a random stone in the middle of the forest?"

"Well ... yes. But I didn't know I would be able to see you even after you gave me Excalibur." He glanced up again. "I really need to go."

"Okay."

"I'll try to see you soon." He hugged her and kissed her deeply before watching as she walked back into the lake. Right before she disappeared beneath the water, he waved. After she disappeared, he stayed in the lake for another minute before wading back out of the water and upon reaching the shore, striding back towards the castle.

The Knights followed silently, hoping he would go to Gaius' first so that they could pretend they had been on the training fields the whole time.

Yes, the conversation he had in mind would be quite interesting...