IDOM.. but do own my OC's :D

"You fight as well as some of my knights," Arthur called across the clearing, stealing a glance at the petite beauty as she threw her sword into the dirt with disgust.

"Casualty of growing up around knights," she muttered, stepping over the dead man at her feet before turning toward the brush of trees he was quickly moving toward.

Merlin, he thought the adrenaline of the fight giving way to fear and sorrow as the image of his servant collapsing with an arrow embedded in his side moments earlier replayed in his mind. She'd arrived out of nowhere, only drawing attention to herself when Merlin had yelled in pain while attempting to remove the lethal projectile. Arthur had made eye contact with her then. For a fleeting moment, his arm had been raised and he'd nearly thrown his sword in her direction before he'd realized she was tending his wound and trying to help.

Nodding as she pulled the manservant into the brush away from the fighting, he'd turned his eyes back to their attackers, only realizing she'd joined the fight a few seconds later when a sapphire jeweled dagger protruded from the back of the now deceased bandit who had attempted to take advantage of his distraction from behind. He'd watched out of the corner of his eye as she picked up a fallen man's sword and join the fray, quickly killing two of their attackers with the speed and agility of any knight he'd be proud to say he trained.

"Move," she snapped breathlessly, pushing through the group of his elite knights who had swarmed their fallen friend after the last man had fallen. Pushing her way past the men, she called, "I need water," the annoyance in her voice failing to hide the panic pooling in her eyes. Not addressing anyone in particular, she pulled a pair of leaves from the small satchel tied around her tiny waist. "I don't have a bowl so cup your hands." She quickly demonstrated before grinding the leaf into dust in Percival's palms with a rock and pouring enough water to mix the powder into a paste.

"Are you a physician?" Gwaine asked, and Arthur couldn't help but note the anguish in his voice. He and Merlin had always been good friends and he certainly couldn't begrudge him that. In truth, Merlin was all of their friend and there was little doubt all of them were fighting to protect their fallen and helpless friend as much as they were fighting to protect their King and their own lives.

"Of a sort, I suppose," she muttered, smearing the paste over and around the wound before covering it with a full leaf and securing it in place using an improvised bandage ripped from the cloth of her shirt. Satisfied with her work, she reached her hand to his forehead and whispered under her breath, the movement causing the man beneath her to shudder and gasp before falling back into his slumber.

"What did you just do?" Arthur asked, bristling at the display but unsure if he even wanted to know so long as the man beneath her survived.

"I said a prayer." She visibly stiffened. "Gwaine?" She looked around at the knights until the rogue identified himself.

"I'm told your loyalty to Arthur began through your loyalty to him. It is, for this reason, I task you with this. He'll be fine, but you must not disturb the bandages. Gaius will know how to handle the leaf; disturbing it too soon or removing it incorrectly could yet kill him. He'll require blood soup as soon as possible. Under no circumstance can he die. Do you understand?" Noting the stunned and battle-weary knights nod, she patted his leg softly before abruptly standing, turning to face the sandy-haired monarch behind her.

She was tiny, big blue eyes set against warm and golden tones of brown in her neatly braided hair. Her jeweled dagger along with the fine silks and velvet of her riding clothes left little question of her station. Whoever she was, she was from a very wealthy and prestigious family.

"My Lady." Arthur nodded to her, prepared to greet her formally when the weight of what had just occurred seemed to crash upon her and her delicate features twisted into a mask of hatred and anger.

"Ignorant fool. Are you mad?" she spat, holding her hand up to cut off any response as she pushed past him toward the bodies that now littered the small field. "Get your men and go before your stupidity gets you all killed."

"It seems I've done something to offend you, yet I don't recall ever having met before," Arthur called out, watching the woman with confusion and intrigue as she pulled the dagger from the back of the felled man and replaced it in its holder at her waist.

"I wouldn't know where to start listing off things that offend me," she stated dryly, turning her attention towards gathering wood for the pyre to dispose of the fallen men littering the ground.

"If I'm so offensive, why did you come to my aid?"

"So it's true then." She rolled her eyes, turning to face him once more. "You really are so arrogant as to think everything is about you."

"Well, if it's not about me, then what is it about?" Arthur stared at her curiously, raising his eyes in surprise at her cheek.

"Run home and ask your father," she retorted sardonically.

"My father is dead." His jaw visibly stiffened at the jab.

"And the world is a better place for it, if you ask me," she shot back flippantly, her lips upturning slightly at his recoil.

"Take care how you speak."

"Or you'll do what…?" She turned and stared him in the eyes. "You're nothing more than an insolent brat in the lands you stand in."

"I'm positive I'm standing in Camelot," Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms, amusement spreading across his chiseled features.

"An ill-informed, insolent brat. I stand corrected," she laughed dismissively, passing him. "Camelot's border ended a quarter league or so back. Perhaps you can ask Geoffrey or Gaius to provide you with a proper map, or is it still treason to own let alone speak of such a thing in Camelot?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, his shoulders stiffening as confusion began to pool in his eyes. "If you harbor such hatred…"

"Oh Arthur, I don't hate you." She looked at him intently, sadness briefly replacing anger in her aquamarine eyes. "I pity you."

"Why would you pity me?" he stammered, shocked and offended at the notion anyone was speaking to him this way.

"Your father did you no favors; he set you up to fail nearly from your birth. You're coddled like a child, living a lie unaware of the basic facts of the lands you preside over. Your ignorance and arrogance is the weakness your enemies and especially your sister exploit - quite successfully, I might add. Tell me… how many lives do you endanger unnecessarily? How many innocents continue to suffer? How many have died due to your inability to listen to anyone but a murderer and a tyrant?"

"You speak treason," Arthur seethed through clenched teeth.

"In whose kingdom? You're in mine, cousin. You think you know it all? You don't even know who I am, let alone where you stand." She flung her arms around, motioning to the carnage littering the floor. "These men were under Morgana's employ. Do you think you walking into an ambush HERE of all places is a coincidence? Do you honestly believe you were the target? They hit their target, you imbecile."

"That's ridiculous. Why would my servant be a target?"

"I'd tell you to ask your father, but it seems he went to the grave a coward. Men like him always do," she scoffed, turning swiftly from the dumbfounded look on his face back to the pyre. "Forbearnan," she whispered, watching as the flames shot several meters into the sky.

"You...you have magic," he stammered behind her, the familiar sound of metal scraping letting her know he'd unsheathed his sword. Turning to face him, she couldn't help but smirk at the expression planted on his face.

"Yes, puppet King, I do, but then every breath you take is as illegal as mine in your bloody kingdom, isn't it not, or did your father leave that out too? Of course he did. Something to ponder: if magic is evil, what are you?" she replied snarkily, holding her hand up and stopping the now advancing knights by freezing them in their tracks.

"I've had just about enough of your lies and insolence, sorcerer," Arthur thundered, his body shaking with anger as his sword flew from his hands, landing several meters away with a thud, and he was frozen in place.

"Merlin looks just like his father, you know." She moved closer into his personal space, her defiant eyes locking with his. "How long before the nobility in your lands and beyond take notice and start asking questions? How long before he starts asking questions - if he hasn't already. I'm not your enemy, Arthur, but nor am I your friend. I offer you courtesy because of the blood we share and my loyalty to his family. By the Gods on the house of de Bois, I am warning you leave this place. Neither of you are safe here, especially ignorant to the truth and stepping blindly into things you know nothing of.

I dare not think what that abomination you call a sister is up to, or what she knows, but know this - he is no peasant and there are many who wish to see him dead or under their thumb. Now that you've been made aware of that fact, do not place yourself in the position to learn the same lesson your father did years ago about how precarious kingdoms sit when his life is threatened. Too many have given up too much in the interest of peace and his safety. Avenging him will leave the rivers running red for a generation or longer."

"Is that a threat?" Arthur seethed, his eyes hardened in an attempt to mask how thoroughly her words were rattling him.

"No," she responded sadly. "It's a promise. Look," she sighed, "his loyalty to you is absolute. While confusing, that has been respected despite the anger at the station you keep him. However, Morgana knows something, which means others do as well. No good can come from it for either of you.

"Or perhaps you've just got him confused with someone else; you're not exactly offering up more than cryptically veiled insinuations. Why should I believe anything you say?" Arthur struggled once more against the bonds holding him in place, his mind swimming with confusion and uncertainty as she turned away from him and began to walk towards the black mountains behind them.

"He's Merlin Ambrosius." She glanced back to the now subdued king, flashing her eyes amber and releasing him from his bonds.

"Ambrosius..." the young king stammered, his eyes widening as he tumbled forward, the jolt of freedom catching him off guard. "Ambrosius as in Aurelianus…?"

"His grandson," she said proudly, glancing toward the unconscious servant with the long-haired knight frozen at his side.

"You can't be serious," Arthur stammered, going pale, visibly shaken by the name.

"Confirm it with Geoffrey or your court physician if you wish. Gaius was present at his birth."

Arthur sucked in the air as her words hit him like a log to his gut, his lungs struggling to replace the oxygen that had been forcefully taken from him. He hadn't even noticed she was gone or that Leon, Eylan, and Percival had reached his side, having been released from their bonds. He could do nothing but stand paralyzed for the second time that day as his world threatened to crash around his feet. In under 10 minutes, this woman had given him his best friend back, saved his life, claimed to be his family, insinuated wild accusations, all but threatened him with war, confused the hell out of him, and then all but took his best friend away again. He felt sick.

"Sire?"

Arthur stared at the fire, giving little more than a grunt to acknowledge the meal the older knight had just passed him. He didn't feel like talking. Funny how only Merlin would have been able to understand that and leave him alone. It wasn't that he wasn't friends with the knights, the men surrounding him were some of the people he trusted most in the world, but it wasn't the same. Merlin could read him; some things never needed to be said between them. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud. Merlin knew when to leave him be and when to push.

"Do you think she enchanted him?"

"He hasn't said more than five words."

"He's upset about Merlin."

"He'll never admit it."

"Why doesn't that boy wear chain mail?"

"There was a time he was so skinny and frail he'd have fallen over in it."

"Well he's not now."

"I'm sure a sorceress healing him has Arthur worried."

"God's she was a beauty, wasn't she? I was ready to wife her as soon as she insulted him then she had to go and use magic."

"She wasn't hard to look at."

"Why are the stunning women witches?"

"Like that'd stop you, Gwaine."

"What do you think she said to him?"

"Whatever it was, he's definitely not happy about it…"

"I can hear you," Arthur growled, not bothering to look over at the four men making a pathetic attempt to speak low as they sharpened their blades and stretched out for the night.

"Sorry, Sire. We were trying not to disturb you. Are you alright?" Leon called out sheepishly, having been caught out gossiping like bar maids.

"I'd be better if I had some peace and quiet," Arthur quipped, shifting against the tree and looking at the sleeping form of his servant. His friend. He couldn't really be a servant anymore, could he? Well, if her information was correct, anyway.

Merlin Ambrosius. How could that be? Nothing in the world made any sense if that was true. Sure he would live, but would anything ever be the same? How do you tell someone they're of noble birth, and not just any noble, but the grandson of his great uncle, the King of Cerniw, who happened to be one of the most respected and loved kings in history? It wouldn't just make him royalty, it'd put him legitimately in line for the throne to his own kingdom should he and Guinevere not conceive a child. None of that made any sense to him; there had to be some mistake.

King Aurelianus didn't have any natural children. He had stormed Camelot and saved his nephews, his father, and younger brother Constans from execution when his grandfather, Constantine, had been killed in a battle with Vortigern and Camelot's throne had been usurped. Having taken his nephews in as wards and raised them as his own, Aurelianus had allowed Uther to use Cerniw's army to reclaim Camelot when he'd come of age. Constans was named heir to Cerniw but died from a plague shortly after Aurelianus's death, so Cerniw's lands were incorporated into Camelot and he was now King of those lands. Everybody knew this. How is it possible that Merlin could be his grandson? That would mean Aurelianus had a child; a son if the remarks about Merlin's father had any accuracy to them. Perhaps an illegitimate son? It certainly wasn't unheard of; he had an illegitimate sibling himself. What would that mean for the lands as they were now?

The worst part was he couldn't, with absolute confidence, discount it. Merlin had never known anything about his father, not even his name. He'd never thought anything of it, but now that he was forced to Arthur had to admit it was odd. Merlin's mother didn't strike him as the kind of woman who would just take a man passing through to her bed, so surely she knew who his father was. Why would she keep that information from him?

Another thing he'd never given much thought to nor acknowledged out loud was the fact Merlin was well educated. He was a peasant farmer, raised in a hut sleeping on the floor, yet he was well spoken, well-mannered when it mattered, and he could read and write as well as any noble. That he could do so from the moment Arthur had met him ruled out any possibility he'd learned it in Camelot. Why had he never questioned that? Why hadn't anyone else?

It was certainly possible that Merlin's father, whomever he was, was an illegitimate son of Arthur's great uncle. It wouldn't be unheard of to put such a child in a village and make sure they were provided for and educated. Then again, no honorable King would leave their offspring in such conditions as Merlin was raised, even if they were Illegitimate.

No, the whole illegitimate theory debunked itself. A King would legitimize a son and put him on the throne to continue his house and dynasty. Aurelianus may have raised Uther and Constans like they were his own sons, but that is not what they were. And yet Constans had been named heir and when he died, the lands went to Uther. Merlin being the illegitimate child of some low- or mid-ranking noble made sense, but an Ambrosius? He didn't see how that could be possible. The sorcerer had to be telling lies, there was no other rational explanation. But to what end?

Everything about this mission pointed to it being a trap, and he cursed himself for falling for it. He'd been told since he was a child the lands near their southeast border were uninhabitable. Now that he looked back on it, he'd never been there nor had the area been patrolled. He'd nearly forgotten it existed as there was nothing beyond the impassable black mountains but the sea and no villages for leagues. There had been a few missions to the area to sweep for Druid camps when he was a child, but for many years the area had been all but ignored and considered impenetrable. When they'd gotten word of attacks by a magical creature and men turning up missing in a small village nearby, he hadn't hesitated to check the reports out. With nothing backing that area but the sea, the only direction for trouble to move was north towards the citadel.

When they'd arrived, they'd been unable to find a village anywhere, and certainly no sign of any creature. It'd put them all on edge, but ultimately it was so late in the day they had little choice but to make camp and return to Camelot in the morning. At first he had dismissed the notion Merlin was the target, but he couldn't ignore the truth. Merlin had been separated from the group collecting firewood when he was hit by a longbow's arrow. It was the only bolt fired, and whomever fired it was aiming for him. Why would they attempt to take out a servant first before attacking?

Arthur winced as images replayed in his mind. In all the years he'd known Merlin, he'd never experienced terror like he had the moment they made eye contact before his friend crumpled to the ground. The shock on his friend's face that quickly turned to resignation and acceptance had broken him right then and there. He'd stood there paralyzed as grief strangled the air from his lungs, despite the battle that had begun to rage around him. It wasn't until the raven haired idiot, watching his back even as he lay dying, shouted and pointed behind him that the world stopped spinning in slow motion and a feral fury he didn't know he was capable of possessing surge through him. Merlin had been the target. Innocent, insolent, brave and loyal to a fault Merlin. His best friend. Somebody had tried to murder him. He wouldn't rest until he found out why and annihilated those responsible.

"Sire," Leon's voice broke through his thoughts, startling him. "You should get some rest. I'll sit with him and take watch."

"No," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face, looking around for the first time in what must have been hours.

"He was the target," he finally said solemnly, unable to make eye contact with any of them for fear they might see the emotions saying it out loud had created.

"Sire?"

"It was an assassination attempt. We were led into a trap and ambushed; Merlin was the target. I want two on him at all times. Two on him, two on me and it will be that way until I figure out what the hell is going on."

"Who the hell would want to hurt Merlin?" Gwaine seethed. Arthur had known the man would be consumed by rage once he'd made them aware. For all their differences, he knew when it came to Merlin he could count on Gwaine for backup. Something he was grateful for.

"Someone with a death wish." The two men locked eyes and nodded their silent agreement. Be it a matter of state or stealthy side mission, this would not go unanswered.

"It's no secret you and Merlin have a unique relationship; it's possible someone seeks to use that as a weapon to manipulate you."

"Anything's possible, Leon. The sorceress said they were hired by Morgana. If she is working alone then I'd say likely, but she also said some things I'm struggling to make sense of. If they prove true, it's just as likely she's allied herself with others."

"What kind of things?" Gwaine growled, moving closer to the fire, shooting the young monarch a look that dared him to keep them out of the loop.

"Things that, if true, I dare not speak out loud in the middle of the woods. I know you don't like that answer but it's all you're going to get for now. I won't risk his life by gossiping."

He looked over to the mousy haired man bundled in blankets nearest the fire, still unconscious and pale. For the first time he was not confident he knew everything about the man he'd never admit had become more a brother than a friend. The thought unsettled him.

"Everybody get some sleep. I intend to leave at first light. Gwaine and Percival, take first watch." Arthur sighed before leaning back against the tree stump once more. He needed to get to Camelot, to Gaius, to answers. Sleep wouldn't come easy until he did.

I'm so excited I got so many reviews, followers and favorites on the first chapter! Thank you so much.