Yay; new challenge. One day=one chapter. Hopefully.

Note: I stopped watching the show soon after Morgana got back to Camelot. It's not one of my favourites either (mostly due to the factual errors when compared to the legend). So this contains no spoilers at all, obviously, unless you are just starting.

Place: Kamelot; Wilderness
Characters: Merlin; Gaius (for now, obviously)
Time: Eh. Who knows
Mood: Scared; Insane; Serene
Warning: AU. Not cannon. Also, I don't like Guinevere. And it might be quite bitter.

Edit: I corrected the name of the town to write it with 'C' instead of 'K' now, since I think about 7 of the 6 reviews I got was complaining about that. Though I must explain myself; In the old medieval scripts there was often used 'k' instead of 'c' (and other changes, obviously), a fact that is very easily explainable by a linguistic rant I'm not going to post in here. Which means I've seen it written in both ways and simply wrote it with 'K' without much thinking about it. My apologise.

Enjoy ;)

He had messed up again. At least according to Arthur, but he couldn't really help it that he couldn't keep up with the prat's latest wishes. But really; blue shirt, so he had gotten him a blue shirt. But -oh my- it obviously wasn't the right blue shirt.

Merlin let his head fall down onto the table in Gaius's kitchen, sighing. And so he had gotten himself sent away again. Not that he minded that much, it gave him the time necessary to catch up on his sleep. That didn't quite work out either.

Gaius tried to talk to him, but Merlin let the words slide past him before he excused himself and ran out. Out of the house, out of the castle, out of the town. He left Camelot behind himself, feet pounding on the ground and his heartbeat too loud in his ear until he found himself in front of the lake.

Merlin collapsed down onto his back, careful not to look at himself in the smooth mirror-like water.

It was a week after the last try to destroy Camelot.

A week spent trying to act completely normal and not as if he was breaking. But really, skeletons? That was a bit too much for him. But what was the worst.. the thing that didn't let him sleep... were her eyes.

Merlin shivered when he remembered. The hatred.

Every time he passed a mirror he had to look away; too scared he will see the same coldness and burning hate in his eyes as he saw in Morgana's. Because they were the same, weren't they? He had as much of a reason to hate Uther as Morgana did. He grew up without his father and his father died years later, both because of the king. He had to hide himself, day and night scared for his life, because of the king.

But yes, it was his destiny to protect Arthur – from others, as well as from himself. He didn't want the prat to go trough the pain of loosing his father. Arthur wasn't prepared to be a king just yet, either.

She was the darkness to his light; the hate to his love. But what about the sparks of hate, the sparks of fire that went trough him sometimes? The burning anger that could be a loathing the same as it couldn't be. He liked the prat. He loved him; the future king. The other part of his destiny. He would give his life for him once and again, he would die thousands of deaths just to save Arthur once, but the anger was there. Every stinging comment, every time the prince looked down at him he just wanted to show him who he was, to scare him to hurt him, just as the words were hurting him.

How was he different from Morgana?

Only her hate was cold, calculated, stable and always, always there.

But what if one day Merlin will look at himself in the mirror and see her eyes on his own face?

He sighed and groaned, head resting in the wet, cold grass as he stared up into the sun without blinking. When his eyes started to water and sting he just grinned and stared on; as if trying to bleach the pictures that had been burned into his eyes.

Time passed and Merlin scrambled to his feet when the sun disappeared behind the forest. It was time to go back to town, as he didn't want to get locked out trough the night. And the forest wasn't that safe in the night time either; not that Merlin was afraid, no. He was mostly numb.

What were wolves against the memory of dancing skeletons? Against a were-animal that he had fallen for? Against murders once and again? Against the first sight he got of the town?

Merlin almost laughed – didn't, he didn't want to hear himself broken – as he sped up into a light jog towards the city. He could run very well, the energy of magic helping him run on and on and on.

It took him half an hour to get in the sight of gates and slowed down, walking smoothly and from shadow to shadow. He slipped trough the gates into the city and was careful not to let himself be seen by anyone who would want to talk to him.

When Merlin slipped into Gaius's kitchen, the elder male looked up from his vials, eyebrows up and almost disappeared into his hairline. "Merlin. Where have you been?"

"Sorry." Merlin tried to give him a believable smile and crossed the kitchen towards the back room, being used as his bedroom. He hoped Gaius will just let him go, but really didn't, he still had something he needed to say.

"Wait, Merlin. Sit." Gaius motioned towards one of the chairs, leaving no space for arguments and Merlin almost breathed in relief. He obeyed and sat down onto the wooden chair, tense and stiff, as a man waiting for his last day.

Gaius took his sweet time to walk around the table and sat down opposite of the young warlock, staring at him.

"What is going on, Merlin." he wanted to know and Merlin had to avert his eyes, reddened by the way he had been enjoying the sun and marred by dark circles.

"I want to go home." Merlin murmured silently, still watching the wooden table. It was covered in burns from Gaius's work and from his own attempts at the same. He could hear Gaius leaning forward, knowing far too well the sounds his bones made with which movement and the chairs were old and creaked at every move.

"Now?" Gaius just said, his voice was softened and silent and oh god, Merlin didn't want to leave him. But he needed to leave Camelot for few nights. Days weren't that horrible but nights.. And after few days with too little sleep every minute was a minute of nightmare, things had stopped making sense quite a long time ago.

"I will ask the king to let you leave for some time." Gaius said just few minutes later.

"Go pack. I will go talk to the king now." he said few more seconds later.

Gaius stood up and briskly walked out.

"Thank you." Merlin said to Gaius's retreating back and sat for a bit longer, staring at the burn he had made two days after he came to Camelot. Then he stood up and packed, standing ready next to the door in the shadow with his backpack in his hand, waiting for his father figure to come back.