Disclaimer: If I owned Merlin, he'd be in my bed right now.

Twigs and branches slapped him in the face and dug into his cheeks as he ran. His ankles cracked and twisted as he slipped into rabbit holes and over stray rocks. His breathing rattled as his teeth chattered in the cold. His clothing snagged on grasping spines and tore as he struggled away. The wind whipped at his dark hair and sliced at his chapped lips, and he willed his legs to move faster. Over the tops of the billowing trees, Merlin could make out a vast display of smoke wafting from deep in a valley, the smell of roasted pig blowing through the breeze to his hungry stomach. The Druids had set up camp. Merlin exhaled roughly and continued to run through the forest. Jumping behind a bark-stripped tree, he peered around it, just as a young boy wandered past him. He was dressed in a sweeping red cloak and his auburn hair was swept back as he made his way towards camp with fresh firewood. Merlin snuck forward after him, padding silently behind the boy. The young Druid hopped over fallen branches and rabbit holes, his feet swift and barely touching the ground as he walked. Soon, the boy's temporary home sprung into view. Tents of all colours were scattered around, somewhat orderly, each tent with a small campfire warming its residents. In the centre of the clearing, a huge pig was being roasted on a spit, turned manually by an older man. His robes were also red, but darker; almost burgundy, and his face was tired and withered, yet wise. Across the site, a young woman was bouncing a giggling baby clad in blue cloth on her knee. Behind her, a man was securing a tent pole into the grass, smiling as he watched the joyful pair. The young boy Merlin had followed, immediately went to the older man sat beside the fire. He rolled the fresh logs onto the flames and they sparked up, engulfing the pig. Merlin inched forward, twigs and leaves crunching under his feet, as the man stood and handed the boy a silver tumbler of water.

"Take her a drink, Caymed." Taking the tumbler, Caymed walked briskly over to a cream tent and ducked inside. Merlin narrowed his eyes and stalked around the edge of the trees, his eyes set on the cream fabric. Treading silently up to the rear flap facing the forest, he crouched low in the grass, listening intently.

"Oh! Thank you, Caymed. I needed that." A woman. Merlin pressed his ear closer, straining to hear her voice better.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Very. Thank you again. Tell your father I'll join you for supper."

"Of course, Morgana."

Merlin held back a grin; he had found her. The fabric rustled and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy jog out and back over to his father beside the spit. Pulling back the fabric flap, Merlin ducked inside, keeping low. His eyes were met almost immediately by Morgana's. She was laid on her side on a thin canvas bed, similar to his own in Camelot. Dressed in a plain grey tunic and a red cloak, she looked like she had lived with the Druids all her life. She looked more comfortable than she had in a long while, and it pleased Merlin. But at that moment she looked shocked and scared, her wavy black hair falling out of its low bun. She shot up in her bed and scuttled backwards, before realising who her intruder was.

"Merlin?" She hissed. Merlin smiled sheepishly and raised himself to his normal height, brushing off his jacket. She hurried across, closing the space between them and hovered a palm over his chest. She cleared her throat at the same moment that he coughed roughly, squinting his eyes as he did.

"Would you like some water?" Morgana whispered, a trace of confusion still in her voice.

"Please." Merlin mumbled back. She bent down to her bedside and grasped the half-empty, silver tumbler from the floor. She straightened and took Merlin's hand, placing the beaker in his warm palm. He brought it to his mouth and drained the last of the liquid, smacking his lips when he finished. Morgana chuckled and took the flask from him, rolling it in her hands. After a moment passed, Morgana muttered almost lazily,

"What are you doing here, Merlin?"

The young man's face suddenly hardened as she spoke and he lowered his head.

"You need to return to Camelot."

Morgana stepped away once, frowning as she realised why he had come.

"I've come to take you home." He looked up, his blue eyes meeting her greens.

Morgana stepped back again, raising her hands.

"No." She stated bluntly. "I am home."

"Morgana, Uther thinks you've been kidnapped again. I was almost arrested yesterday!" Merlin groaned and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Arthur has suspicions that you'll have gone to the Druids again; he'll be here soon."

Merlin paused, as the woman in front of him shook her head violently.

"Please, Morgana." He lowered his voice again to a whisper.

She stared straight at him, pain in her eyes. Merlin took a hesitant step towards her.

"You don't understand," She whispered. "I-" Before she could continue, a younger woman burst in through the tent entrance. She was dressed almost identical to Morgana, however her hair was cut into a light brown, shoulder-length bob; which was a little windswept.

"Mo, have you seen my red dress?" The girl glanced up as she rummaged through a pile of cloth on the ground, a big smile on her face. Upon seeing Morgana's surprise guest, her smile dropped and she straightened up immediately, her fists clenched. Morgana cleared her throat and jumped back towards the girl.

"Err, Madde, this is Merlin. Merlin, Madelaide."

She spoke in an awkwardly cheery tone, noticing that Merlin and her new friend were already having some sort of staring contest across the spacious tent. Morgana looked intently at Madelaide.

"Madde, please don't say anything to anyone that he's here. Not just yet, anyway." Madelaide looked right through Morgana as if she weren't even there. Morgana sighed and turned around to Merlin. His eyes were as blank and stern as the young woman's.

"Merlin-" She began.

"Morgana," He said calmly. After a long pause, he mumbled, "I see you've met my little sister."

Morgana gasped silently and spun to face her friend. The brunette's eyes were glazed over with tears and her mouth hung open in a small, shocked 'O'.

Merlin's sister? Her new Druid friend, her first Druid friend, the one she trusted, cared about, laughed with... was Merlin's sister? Why had neither of them mentioned anything?

Questions ran through Morgana's head, but before she could bring them up, Merlin spoke loudly from behind her.

"My supposedly dead... little sister."