Labyrinth of the Lost
Summary: Arthur, Gaius, Morgana and Gwen become increasingly worried when a two week holiday takes Merlin more than four weeks to complete. And their suspicions are confirmed when his horse returns riderless.
Disclaimer: This is a Fan-fiction story of the T.V Series; Merlin, and is in no way affiliated with the actual series. All Characters and other materials related to the show that are used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant.
However, this story plot and all Characters not affiliated with the show are Copyright © 2009 to Elemental-Zer0.
Authors Note/Warnings: Ok, so I take it you guys liked the last chapter? Well, ok, but I'll warn you again, the plot for this story is in a complete confusion of mess, meaning that I may lose track of it and it may not survive a round of writers block… also meaning it may never get finished and I may end up deleting it as I forewarned in the previous chapter.
But having seen the popularity of this fic, I've decided to try harder and to keep going until such a time comes that I can't continue. I'll do my best people! I can promise you that much!
Again, let me know what you think, but no flames please. If you have any criticism to make please do it politely otherwise I shall ignore your words. (It's happened before, I'm sorry to say, and I hadn't even posted any chapters…)
Labyrinth of the Lost
Arthur stared long and hard at the snow falling outside his window. He could feel the heat of his roaring fire burning in the fireplace behind him but his body remained cold and numb and rigid.
He was worried.
But damnit he shouldn't be! He was just a servant… it was Merlin for crying out loud, even if he'd been waylaid by thieves or strangers, he wasn't worth the effort of robbing or causing havoc. He was just a lazy, clumsy, lousy servant who always seemed to find trouble no matter what he did.
But then maybe that's why he was worried; Merlin was a danger unto himself when not constantly supervised… how he managed to survive so far in his years Arthur had no idea but he did know that since his servant had shown up in Camelot, his luck had been bad and his mouth never seemed to help him get out of it. That fact was very evident when they'd first met in the market place.
It didn't help that Gaius and Gwen and subsequently Morgana were hampering him with worries and soft frowns of concern. Nor did it help his mood when Merlin didn't show up the day after he was due back to Camelot.
So his mood had only soured progressively on each day that Merlin remained absent since the day he'd been due to come home. But he understood that the weather in these coming days were bad and his servant had a notorious habit of being late for almost any task that he'd been set. So, although he was secretly worried, Arthur continued to wait and stave off Morgana's, Gwen's and Gaius' combined worries with little excuses until he had more evidence to suggest that something was amiss.
Little did he know how soon that suggestion would arrive, for not long after his third visit from her Ladyship on the fourteenth day of Merlin's unexplained absence, he was summoned to the courtyard by a young serving boy that he had seen once in the kitchens.
"Please Sire, the stable master requests you meet him in the courtyard immediately, he says it's of great importance. He asks that you hurry Sire!" The boy was young looking, fair skinned but had a visible fading tan from the summer months just past. If Arthur had to guess his age, he'd have put him at twelve, maybe thirteen summers. But Arthur had no time to guess the age of the boy; from the sounds of it, he had a much larger concern to occupy his mind with.
"Lead the way." He commanded, grabbing his cloak as he followed the rushing boy from his chambers.
It was still lightly snowing outside; the wind and air was stiff and crisp but the delicate flurries drifted downward in a graceful pattern regardless. The cold bit his cheeks instantly and he had to pull his cloak around him tighter to ward off the chilling fingers that slipped through his clothes. The boy led him out of the palace doors and into the courtyard where a rather dishelved and panicky horse was skittering around on the snow covered cobblestone floor.
The boy paused and, pulling his coat around him more, let his eyes dart around for the stable master. Arthur took that time to watch the scene; a few burly men were sliding around on the icy cobble stones, trying to calm the horse down enough to catch it but the beast wasn't having any of it. Instead it reared up, flailing its legs at the men who tried to approach. The horse landed its front legs on the floor again and backed away nodding its head in a warning to stay back.
That's when Arthur noticed it; Merlin's ripped and tattered satchel was still only just attached to the saddle.
This was Merlin's horse… so where was Merlin?
He looked around quickly, expecting to find his very late servant in a heap on the floor from where the horse had thrown him off, but then a horrible thought suddenly hit him and he looked again at the scared horse. Yes, the horse was scared; its saddle was wonky, there were dead twigs and leaves matted in its mane and tail and an abundance of mud and dirt in its hair.
"Oh no…" Merlin had been attacked.
He didn't see the boy move as he spotted the stable master nor did he register that he'd dashed off to deliver the Prince to him. He just stood there at the bottom of the palace entry steps, and watched as the three men from before tried to catch the panicked animal.
"Arthur?" Morgana's soft spoken voice only just penetrated his heavy thoughts. "What's going on?" She asked. He turned then and made to respond but instead he caught a glimpse of Gwen stood behind her with a look of horror on her face. The young maid was looking at the horse, and as he had just done, put two and two together.
"Merlin…" He tried, but found that he couldn't complete his explanation. He didn't have to though for he saw the lights click on in Morgana's eyes.
They were silent for a moment, eyes locked in different shades of worry, shock and concern before Arthur finally pulled himself together. He was a Prince damnit. He should be acting like one; taking control and what not… no matter how out of control he actually felt.
"Morgana, I need someone to inform Gaius." He began, turning back to the panicked horse scene and spotting the stable master heading toward him. Good, he was going to need his horse.
"And what are you going to do?" She asked, coming back to her senses. Arthur turned back to her with a determined look in his eye that told her he was about to do something his father may not approve of.
"I'm going to look for him." He replied, with a small mischievous smile that was gone before it was there. He was too worried to actually grin, but the message was clear; don't tell the King until it's too late to stop him. Morgana grinned back, her faith in him never wavering. Arthur spared a quick reassuring glance at Gwen before turning to the stable master waiting at the bottom of the palace steps.
"Sire! I'm sorry to have called for you, but the horse…" He began. He was rather large and rotund man but his eyes betrayed his kind heart and good soul.
"Is Merlin's, I know." Arthur interrupted, "Have my horse tacked and ready to go. I'm leaving within the hour." He added as he turned and headed for the armoury to fetch his broadsword and a short sword for extra insurance.
"I can't Sire; your horse is lame, and there are no others available, they're all being worked in the fields." The stable master explained as he tried to keep up with the young Prince.
Arthur suddenly stopped and rounded on the poor stable master, disbelief and a certain amount of fear in his eyes; fear that he would be hindered in trying to save his wayward servant and that that hindrance would ultimately lead to a certain servant's death. Such cases of mysterious disappearances were always time crucial in the first few weeks of disappearing. Trails would grow cold, and chances of a safe return would grow thin. "You mean to tell me there are no horses?!" He all but yelled. He wasn't angry with the stable master but his worry was eating away at him, as though all this was his fault. Which was an absurd idea; how could he have known Merlin would be attacked on a journey he'd made several times before on his own with no problems.
"I'm sorry Sire…" The stable master muttered unsure of how else he could help the situation. Arthur gave a long drawn out sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. The armoury finally came into view and he made quick work of sheathing the two aforementioned swords and grabbing his chain mail shirt as well. Even from in these corridors, he could hear the horse still clattering away outside on the snow blanketed stone floor.
His eyes suddenly flew open.
That was it! "What about Merlin's horse? Is it safe to ride if calmed down?" He asked, his eyes pleading for the answer he wanted. A man's life was at stake here.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with it that I could see Sire, but it's in such a state…" But Arthur wasn't listening anymore; he was dashing back to the courtyard with the flustered and confused stable master trying to keep pace a few steps behind. Arthur finally made it back to the cold, frostbitten courtyard and found the poor horse rearing up at the men who had failed yet again to rein it in.
"Stand aside, let me." He ordered, watching as the three men turned and gave a slightly surprised bow before backing off.
The snow was still falling and the wind was still bitterly cold but as he locked his eyes with Merlin's horse, everything around him seemed to fade away into the background. It was a beautiful horse, strong and sturdy but it was clear to Arthur that the horse was scared, not for himself but for its master. It had seen something, watched what had happened…
Arthur calmly approached the frayed creature, holding out his hands in a harmless gesture. "Hush now. It's alright." He cooed to the animal as it stepped back warily but otherwise didn't move; allowing the Prince to move closer but not without giving a loud, heartbreaking whinny. "I'm going to find him." Arthur promised, ignorant of the crowd that had gathered in the cold courtyard to watch. He finally got close enough to gently catch the horse's reins. "But I'm going to need your help." He said, giving the horse a firm stroke on its nose. "Can you help me?" He asked the beast. The horse gave a deep throated grunt, its warm breath leaving its flared nostrils in a cloud of white steam, and it shook its head upwards before lowering it again in a submissive stance.
"Good," He said, giving the horse another firm stroke before turning back to the flabbergasted stable master. "Tack him up. I'm leaving now."
"Y-yes Sire!"
Far away from the city of Camelot, deep in the frozen forests surrounding the lands of King Uther, a cloaked figure stood atop a dark and dead hill. Behind him, the entrance to a long and suffering lifetime stood unwavering to its prisoners' cries, unrelenting to their pleas to be set free. Before him, the lands of a Great King-to-be rolled forth in all its snow covered glory.
"Are you satisfied with him?" The cloaked figure asked, his voice rasping like dry, brittle leaves skittering across the cold hard earth.
The vault behind him shivered; content with its new ward.