"You stay close to me. It's dangerous out here, and I don't want you out of my sight." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, father." Uther hadn't seen the eye-roll, so he didn't say anything more. Arthur was glad he didn't have to hear anymore lectures about the dangers of leaving Camelot, but how could his father say it was dangerous when they had and army of knights to protect them? And besides, nothing exciting ever happened on hunting trips anyway. He had been on a few hunting trips with his father, and every time he had to sit very still and very silent while his father made him study how the Knights held the crossbow and how they aimed and when they pulled the trigger. His father often had to scold him for dozing off.

As anyone would expect, the young prince was used to plush feather beds and servants to wait in his every need, but in the forest, things were different. Arthur had to sleep on the floor with only a tent to protect him against the forest forces. And the Knights weren't exactly what you would call servants. They thought that young Arthur was a spoiled brat, whose father bent to his every need, but that's not really how it was. Uther was not exactly the most lenient father in the world. It was hard to get Uther to do what he wanted. If he asked him to stay up later, Uther would make him go to bed earlier. That was just the way his father was.

With one signal from Uther, the Knights tapped their heels against their horses and galloped off, heading out of the gates of Camelot. Arthur kept a steady pace with them. He loved riding; loved the wind in his face; loved the thrill and excitement of it; loved the way he bounced up and down on the horse's back. The one thing he wished for at the moment way to be alone. He didn't want to see the flashing red capes of the Knights or hear the trots of their many horses getting mixed up with his. Most of all, he didn't want his father trailing him every time he wandered off two feet. Arthur could feel the King's cold eyes on his back the moment he thought that, as if Uther could read his mind. His father's eyes were a murky green with flecks of brown in his left eye, much unlike his son's. Arthur's eyes were crystal-blue, eyes that made everyone want to have a second look.

As most ten-year-olds think, Arthur knew his father despised the thought of him having fun. He just knew it, like it was a fact. Just to annoy his father, Arthur dug his heels in more to the horse's side. The stallion sped faster, and Arthur pushed his way through the Knights until he was as the head of the group. A mischievous grin was on his face, but no one could see it, because he was too busy breathing in the fresh forest air and looking at the green trees around him. The moment was perfect, and almost nothing could ruin it.

A shout came from somewhere deep in the forest and the moment was gone.

They were bandits, the people that rode out on black horses, blocking the game trail. They did not move or flinch when the group of Camelot's finest skidded to a halt in front of them. Arthur's horse dug it's hooves into the dirt, trying to find friction. It snorted and Arthur yelped and pulled the reins. The group came to a stop just before one of the hooded figures. The lover half of the bandit's face was covered by a rough brown fabric. Arthur was staring straight into the leader's eyes.

"Search their bags!" The voice was shrill and higher than he had expected, but Arthur hardly had time to think about how high or low a voice was because he was scrambling off his horse, trying to get back to his father. The figure in front of him roughly gripped his wrist just as his feet toughed the ground. "You're not going anywhere."

All at once, the Knights had drawn their swords, more than ready for battle. They had numbers on their side anyway. Just then, several dozen more bandits stepped out of the tree line, surrounding them. Almost in unison, they pulled out hollow wooden tubes with darts in them and blew hard on the other end; the darts shot out of the end and burrowed themselves in the knight's necks. They lost consciousness at once. Then the still-standing group of Camelot's knights broke into a frenzy, urging their horses forward towards the bandits and yelling war cries while their startled horses tried to avoid the bodies on the forest floor while attempting to obey their master's commands.

All while this was happening, Arthur stood rooted to the spot, bound by the iron grip of his captor. Then he heard it: his father's anxious cries. "Arthur! Arthur, where are you?" That was all it took off him to tug and resist the bandit's hold on him. He only wanted to get to his father. How stupid he was, wanting away from him when, if he had just obeyed Uther, he could have already escaped. "Father!" he cried, his voice cracking. He was terrified at what they would do to him if they took him hostage.

"So that's your father, huh? I had no idea we were dealing with such royalty!" The bandit said, tilting their head. "Turns out we've got a prince on our hands, boys!" Arthur's captor shouted behind them, where the others were standing, untouched, having already taken out all the Knights. The thieves cheered. There was no one left standing, not even the horses. Arthur's stomach dropped when he realized his father was among the pit of bodies, among the red capes with dragon patches, among the jutting elbows and shining chainmail, among the entire army that had been defeated in minutes. It would take a miracle for Arthur to get out of this, and a miracle is what he got.

A cage. That's where they put the trembling blonde boy with piercing blue eyes dressed in expensive clothing who only wanted to be home with his father. It was wooden, nothing more than thick sticks tied together with a lock on the front and should have been easy enough to break through, but Arthur didn't even try. He didn't want them to punish him for attempt of escape. The thought of punishment from the bandits made him shake harder and his eyes blur with tears. He was terrified, beyond terrified. He hugged his legs to his chest and put his head on his knees, trying desperately not to cry. Princes didn't cry, no matter what happened to them. The tears came anyway.

The young prince could only imagine what happened to his father and his protectors, the knights. He was mostly sure they'd been only searched and left on the forest floor, but he had no way of knowing for sure. The lead bandit had taken him away before all the other thieves left. The unknown state of his father made Arthur's chest tighten with fear. If his father was still out there, not captured or... worse, Arthur knew that the King wouldn't stop until he had his son back. But if not...

A wave of panic consumed him, causing him to dig his fingernails into his palms and making his breath hitch, the air stuck inside his throat. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. Arthur forced himself to unclench his fists and thought, Breathe. Just breathe. Panicking won't get you anywhere. Breathe, in then out, breathe... The young prince evened out his breathing, and tried to gain control of his shaking hands. Then he heard a small sound, almost a noise of frustration, over the laughing and cheering bandits. Arthur allowed his eyes to wander over his kneecaps at locate the source of the sound, and that's when he saw him.

There was another young boy, about the prince's age, contained in a cage only fifteen feet from Arthur's. The skinny boy had high cheekbones and pitch-black hair that was on the verge of being considered long, and some if it reached his deep, ocean blue eyes. He was wearing peasant's clothing, a dirty red shirt that had more than a few holes, tan pants that Arthur couldn't imagine wearing for even a second, and tall brown boots that had a hole over the right toe. The prince vaguely wondered how long the boy had been detained for, and hoped that he wouldn't end up looking in the state the other child did.

The dark-haired boy didn't seem to notice Arthur staring at him, or that he had seen the prince at all. The kid didn't seem to see anything, really, except the ring of keys lying carelessly on a tree stump nearby, most likely because someone forgot to take the keys with them. The boy stared at them with extreme intensity, his hand slightly outstretched through the bars of his cage, like he expected them to jump into his hand. Much to Arthur's surprise, they did just that. The next thing the prince knew, the dark-haired boy was turning towards him, trying to unlock the cage.

Arthur's jaw dropped and he gaped at the boy, more surprised than confused. That's when the King's son noticed that the other kid's cage was metal, and that he had a bruise on his cheekbone, the side where Arthur hadn't seen a first. The prince guessed he had attempted escape. He was glad he hadn't tried the same feat.

Suddenly, the mysterious boy's eyes shifted and locked with Arthur's. The boy paused his escape and focused his gaze on the valley wall behind Arthur. His eyes went back and forth from the prince's stunning eyes and the mountain of rocks behind him, as if trying to make up his mind about something. Arthur followed his gaze, but didn't find anything the boy could have been so interested in, so he shot the kid a confused stare, but the child had already turned back to the padlock holding the door to his cage closed.

He only missed the padlock once. In a matter of seconds, the boy was dashing across the forest floor, running towards Arthur, desperately trying to jam the key into the lock. The key stuck on the tumblers and didn't turn. In panic, Arthur grabbed the bars and tried to break them, but jerked back his hands, gasping in pain. The wooden bars had burned his hands, and the young prince rubbed at the red marks on his palms. It seemed that the bandits had thought him more of a threat than he thought.

Suddenly, there was a shout coming from the midst of the thieves. "One of them escaped!"

"Hurry!" Arthur said to the other boy, but the child simply set down the lock. For a second, Arthur thought the boy was going to leave him. Again, the boy stared intensely at the lock, and this time the prince saw it. The dark-haired boy's eyes flashed gold and the padlock broke open. A group of about ten people were already racing toward the pair, and Arthur almost fell out of the cage trying to get out of it without touching the enchanted sticks.

Down the valley they raced, adrenaline and fear making their pace faster and their hearts beat ferociously, but to no avail. Their captors were gaining fast. Just as they were about to turn a corner in the small ravine, the dark-haired boy stopped and put his hand up to the valley wall, aiming at the spot he had been studying earlier. Arthur turned to look at him just as his eyes flashed, and rocks stumbled down upon each other, crashing down on the unsuspecting bandits mercilessly.

The boy ran faster, narrowly avoiding rockfall, almost catching up to Arthur. But there was a problem: the rocks were starting to fall dangerously close to the pair of boys. They zigzagged around chunks of earth, narrowly dodging the falling missiles of valley wall. A massive rock landed just a hairsbreadth away from Arthur, shaking the ground, causing more stones to fall and the prince to lose his footing. Just then, a boulder tumbled off of its perch high on the valley wall, heading directly for Arthur. At the last second, the dark-haired boy yanked the prince from his doom, just as the boulder tumbled forcefully into the ground, shattering the stone around it. They ran again, but it was not long until Arthur caught a good-sized rock in the head and let darkness consume his vision.

-A/N-

I hope you liked! This is an older story of mine, so I know the writing isn't as adequate as I would like. The quality should improve in future chapters! A review would be very helpful :)

(This is a possible collaboration with I'mThatAcroBat)