Holy mother of holiness... It has been a while hasn't it? First, I get the worst form of writer's block possible. Then, I start college and get hammered with papers. Then, my computer crashes from work overload and I lose EVERYTHING! This is including drafts, and completed fictions that I was too lazy to upload! Nearly nine months of fanfiction, lost... What a waste... So, I saved all that I could from my doc manager and worked from there. I have re-thought this story, and I'm continuing from the last chapter. No spoilers! This is still based during season 3, between the normal episodes and Morgana's first attempt to conquer rule Camelot.


"Wow," Merlin said as he came to a stop near Arthur, "You're still as jumpy as usual."

"Merlin?" Arthur asked incredulously, the sword still in hand, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Well," The manservant shrugged, "With you gone, I've lost my job. I thought that I'd come along. Maybe I could be useful?"

"How could you be useful?" The former prince asked in a disbelieving tone.

"I've been useful!" Merlin exclaimed defensively, "I mean, how many times have I saved your life? Honestly, I've lost count."

"Once!" Arthur shouted, the stress of the day beginning to vent, "You can't even count to one! You're useless to me, Merlin! I need someone who can help me hunt and track. I need a navigator. I need someone who can cook, not just snatch food from the kitchens!" He paused for a second, then made his very fine point, "Oh, and here's something that I know you can't fulfill: I need a sorcerer to teach me how to use my magic! If you have any of those talents, which I am prety sure you don't, feel free to state them! With as long as I've known you, Merlin, I can honestly say that you are the most incompetent manservant that Camelot, no, Albion has ever known!"

"So that's it?" Merlin stared at him, not showing any sign of pain from the venom in Arthur's words. Though, his next words began to show frustration that had bottled up since the day he met the prince, "So I'm completely useless to you? You think that I'm only good for cleaning and fetching? I have saved your royal little pratty ass more times than I can count! Not just once, oh no... All the times that it seemed like dumb luck, all those times that a miracle happened... It was me. You've just been too much of clotpole to see it! Granted, if you did happen to see it, I would have been executed on the spot."

"What are you rattling on about now?" Arthur asked in a near mocking tone.

"Every time, from the plague to last week, when you just happened to fall backwards before that sword rack fell in front of you, it was me," Merlin said with great fury in his words, "I cured the plague. I pulled you from death after the Questing Beast bit you, nearly killed my own mother and Gaius in the process. I enchanted the sword that Uther used to slay the Wraith... Do you get my point? And, while we're on the subject, maybe I should point out the only things I've received in return," He took a deep breath, a noticeable confidence in his stature even though Arthur was armed, "You treat me like I'm less than dirt, but that's the least of it. Among all the petty annoyances of 'Merlin do this' 'Merlin do that,' the one thing that you have done that was unforgivable..." Merlin's words died. He couldn't say it.

"What?" Arthur asked, "Did I wake you up too early? Did I take away a meal?"

"You killed the love of my life." Merlin said before dropping into complete silence.

Arthur paused, completely frozen by the words. He stared at Merlin, the anger of the conversation fizzling away.

"Wh-who...?" Arthur couldn't speak correctly from his shock.

"Her name was Freya," Merlin said, his sternness remaining vigilant, "You remember, right? The poor girl who had been cursed to become a bastet at midnight? Or maybe you're just the kind of person who kills and instantly forgets the person whose life they had just ended abruptly."

"I..." Arthur was truly speechless. He couldn't even form an apology.

"You know," Merlin said, "I was going to come along to help you. I can teach you magic, I've practiced it under your nose for as long as I've known you. But this conversation just had me thinking. Maybe you shouldn't be taught by me. Oh, and by the way, I'm legendary to the Druids. They call me Emrys, and my life was prophesied centuries ago. I just thought that you should know what you're missing." Merlin turned his horse around an began to head back to Camelot.

"Merlin..." Arthur finally spoke, "Wait... I... Do I really need to say it?"

"I might consider turning around," Merlin said, keeping the horse on a slow pace, "But it depends on your wording."

"I'm sorry," Arthur sighed heavily, looking down in shame for the umpteenth time today, "I'm sorry that I've treated you that way. I'm sorry that I never gave you recognition. I'm sorry that I... That I killed her. I never knew. I was only trying to protect the castle. I know that you'll never forgive me... but-" He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Arthur," Merlin said, "I'm just surprised to hear you say the words 'I am sorry.' Apology accepted, but my forgiveness has yet to be earned."

"Thanks," Arthur muttered, "I think... Maybe we should get moving..."

"I know a good place," Merlin smiled, "There's actually a village that's a couple hours ride from here. I don't quite remember the name... But I have an idea of where we can go to practice magic, and the village is not too far away from there."

"Where is it?" Arthur asked, confused. He wasn't aware of such a village.

"It's..." Merlin paused, then pointed in a familiar direction, "That way!"

"Merlin..." The former prince said in an indistinguishable tone, "That's direction of-"

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings," The warlock finished, "I know, there's a good place to practice magic in there. Also, it has a strong magical presence around it. We'll be comfortable in there, trust me."

"Comfortable?" Arthur asked incredulously, "Merlin, the last time I went in there, I was shot with a crossbow!"

"And you recovered because of that nice old sorcerer who healed you," Merlin completed the story, "Not that you remember."

"I think I'd rather the Perilous Lands..." Arthur mumbled, "Well, let's get going. No reason to stay here any longer than we have..."

They both mounted their horses and trotted off towards the village the Merlin had spoken of.


"This is a village?" Arthur asked his manservant-turned-mentor, "It's just five buildings and a market!"

"And what is Ealdor?" Merlin responded with a smirk.

"But Ealdor is... Spread out, at least," Arthur said in a somewhat complaining tone, "This is just a permanent bandit camp in a forest clearing."

"Funny, the town's name is Encamp," Merlin snickered, "I honestly didn't know, Arthur. I just happened to see it the last time we went into the Valley."

"I don't feel safe here..." Arthur said as if he was losing his breath, "Now I know why the presence of bandits is always high around these parts!"

"It's not that bad, Arthur," Merlin said in a reassuring tone, "I mean, it's going to be a common area to go to when we need to buy something, or trade. Oh, by the way, I'm going to have to teach you about trading. It's very different from using gold."

"I know how to trade, Merlin," Arthur began to get irritated again. Throughout the entire trip, Merlin had assumed that the former prince knew nothing of life as a commoner, "If anything, I can get us more than what we need for less than half of the price."

"If you say so," Merlin shrugged, "I'm going to head to the tavern. Maybe we can set up trade connections. We are about to become hermits, after all."

"Fine," Arthur sighed, "I'll head to the stables..."

"There aren't any," Merlin said, pointing to the town they were still coming up to, "Just a tavern, a market, and what appear to be houses."

"Where do the horses go, then?" Arthur asked.

"Tie them to a tree," Merlin seemingly ordered, "Then come to the tavern after you're done."

Once they entered the town, the former prince and warlock dismounted from their horses. Merlin handed Arthur the reigns to his horse and then headed straight to the tavern. The tavern was a rather simple building. At the door, one would see a room that was pockmarked with mix and matched tables. There was a wall to the right that was obviously for people of the bounty-hunting sort. To the left, the barroom extended, and the bar itself was nestled in a large corner. There was a door near the back, supposedly to the rooms to rent. Though there were so many tables and chairs, it was practically devoid of human life. That is, until Merlin heard the familiar drunken voice to the left, near the bar.

"Why does every one want to fight me?" The familiar man asked a crowd of angry gamblers, "I don't cheat. I'm just very lucky."

"Then how come, every time you rolled, it was the very number you would call?" The man who seemed to lead the angry group asked, "I say that you're using magic to cheat!"

"Now that is a very serious accusation, sir," Gwaine replied, "I don't need to cheat, and why would I use magic to do it anyway? I could just use loaded dice. Plus, we're not in Camelot, magic can be used freely, not that I have magic to begin with."

"Oh," The man laughed, "We have ways to deal with sorcerers and with cheaters here..."

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked, making the moment pause with his very presence. The fact that there were two outsiders in the village before dark seemed astonishing to the crowd.

"Merlin?" The drunk vagabond turned to see one of his good friends, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm with Arthur," Merlin shrugged, "He's putting the horses somewhere right now."

"Why?" Gwaine asked, confused, "Shouldn't you be doing that?"

"It's a long story," Merlin nodded, "And, uh... I can see that you're busy..."

"Well," Gwaine shrugged, "Help's always appreciated."

"I should probably wait for Arthur," The warlock smiled, "A bar brawl is just what he needs for his anger right now." As if on cue, Arthur shuffled into the bar. Merlin then noticed just how hard the events of today had hit him. His head was no longer sitting proudly upon his shoulders, but hanging, examining the ground. His shoulders were slouched forward instead of resting back. The proud walk that seemed unique to Arthur was now a shuffle as he dragged his feet behind him.

"Horses are up," Arthur said in the depressed tone that Merlin noticed had been surfacing since he hadcaught up with him, "Did you find any traveling traders?"

"Better," Merlin smiled, trying not to notice the very obvious drop in confidence, "I found Gwaine. I think he needs some help though."

At this, Arthur looked up at his fellow banished man. Gwaine was, of course, as drunk as could be. They were in a tavern after all...

"Arthur?" Gwaine asked nearly disbelievingly, "What happened to you? You look terrible!"

"I'll tell you after we get rid of this angry mob," Arthur said, "I think that some anger needs to be let loose."

"Oy!" The leader of the mob (of five) shouted, "How are we going to go about-" He was interrupted when Arthur ran up to him and landed a very hard punch on the man's jaw.

"I think Gwaine's had enough of your nonsense!" The former prince exclaimed with a confidence that he hadn't had all day.

"So that's how it's gonna be..." The man on the ground mumbled through his cracked jaw, "Get 'im!"

At this point, Arthur noticed his mistake. One, they were in a town of close-knit neighbors. Two, this was a bandit town, so nearly every one was either a bandit or a smuggler. Three, he had just punched the town's leader, hence, the leader of the bandits around these parts. The only two doors in the entire tavern burst open and the rather small room was filled with armed men and women. They all pointed their swords, knives, axes, etc. at the three outsiders.

"That was... Surprisingly unexpected," Arthur said, wide eyed, "Uh... Merlin? I don't think I've seen prove of your talents as of yet. Now may be as good a time as any to reveal them!"

Merlin quickly thought of a spell. It was simple, but should work.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted as the people approached.

"Gefetan tóéow hrycgeas!" Merlin hissed. The bandits were literally thrown back, as if a large pulse had emanated from the warlock. The three then decided to run, and get out of this town as soon as possible.

"So much for setting up a trade agreement..." Arthur muttered as they ran over to their horses. Luckily, he had left the horses near Gwaine's horse. The three rode towards the Valley of the Fallen Kings, completely in silence. They feared that there would be pursuers, but there were none...


So, that's chapter 2. Once again, I apologize for the wait. Comments are always accepted, flames are not. And with the magic, I used an Old English (Anglo Saxon) translator that I found a link to on the Merlin wiki. Chapter 3 is in the works.