2

The Sojourner

Instead of packing, as he should, Merlin stood in the center of his large, although admittedly bare, bedroom. His hands fretted at his sides, unsure. His stillness was not the sort that stemmed from laziness but indecision. Loss. Nothing seemed to work in his favor. Ever.

How was he to tell Morgana? She would be devastated by his departure. A small shiver of pleasure almost rippled through him. Was it horrible that he was glad at least one person would miss him? Not the Hooded Prince. But Merlin Pendragon. Just him.

But he couldn't think like that. Leaving would hurt his friend. One of his only friends. And she had never even seen his face. Gias had seen it. Probably Uther Pendragon as well. But that was all.

Another wave of sadness made him clench his fists. He was going to leave Gias. Gias, who was more a father to him than Uther ever was. He was the only other one who looked at Merlin like he was just a boy with a skinned knee or a shiver-ish cold.

Quickly his sadness shifted to frustration. At the hood and mask. At Uther. At Camelot and her stupid laws. Quivering, Merlin finally made his decision. He needed to get out. Not out of Camelot.

Out of the mask.

Just for one night. Just one time. It was stupid. Deadly if he was caught.

In a few hours, he would return, finish packing, make his farewells. But right now Merlin couldn't stand another suffocating moment looking at his reflection and seeing nothing but emptiness peer back.

Quickly, Merlin took up the plainest pieces of clothing he could find and change into them. A dark blue shirt, brown pants, red handkerchief. Still donning the mask and hood, Merlin exited the bedroom and snuck into the hall.

Sneaking around the castle was ridiculously easy. Someone really ought to the train the guards more efficiently. But as of right now, Merlin was grateful for their negligence. Within a matter of minutes, Merlin stood before a tattered red tapestry in an unused wing of the castle. He ran his fingers across the delicate fabric and then pulled it aside. There was a door behind it, which Merlin did not hesitate to enter. He had discovered this passageway ages ago but had always been too nervous and desirous of his father's approval to try it. An old map, which he had studied years ago, revealed that the passageway let out somewhere in the forest outside of Camelot's walls. It was meant to be an escape for the Royals during a siege.

Shutting the entrance, Merlin listened to the dank interior. Water dripped and somewhere a frog gurgled. Its burps echoed down the stone walls. A deeply rooted smell of rot devoured the place, and Merlin wrinkled his nose.

It was not until several minutes of walking, did Merlin realize he saw perfectly well despite the complete lack of a light source. His eyes must be glowing. Nervousness twisted Merlin's gut. Perhaps this was not a good idea.

But he had gone this far. And the forests would be empty of robbers this close to Camelot. It was very late in the night. No one would see him.

Besides, a rebellious voice whispered, he needed this. If he kept thinking about this, he'd talk himself out of it.

I'm already bending to my father's wishes by leaving, still masked, from Camelot.

Just let me have this one night.

The passage took a sharp turn to the left and then ended abruptly with a staircase. At the top, there was a door without a knob. It was slanted, similar to a trap door. His heart beating in his throat, Merlin ascended the stairs and pressed a hand against it. He waited.

What was he expecting? His father's voice to come booming from behind him? A shiver of energy as he exited Camelot alone?

The door merely stuck. Merlin pursed his lips

Right. It was probably grown over by foliage.

Frowning in concentration, Merlin rammed his weight into the door. The door didn't even budge. Of course not.

He tried again to no avail.

Well. He was already going into all of this trouble to get out; he couldn't stop now. With a twist of guilt and fear lingering his gut, Merlin gently pulled at the strand of fire that had always resided within him. It responded warmly and immediately, fanning his body with ease. Merlin sighed in relief. Never using magic was like never opening his eyes, never taking a breath, never sitting down. His fingers were quivering. Merlin set his hand against the door and pushed.

His magic rushed, suddenly far too fast, and the door flew from its frame and out of sight, making a startlingly loud wooden crack.

Merlin froze, fear rising like bile in his throat.

Someone saw. Someone's going to catch me and burn me, and my ashes will be mixed in the-

Dear gods, it's in a tree.

Merlin, having stepped out slightly, spotted the trap door swinging above him.

The map had held true. He was outside of Camelot. Turning slowly, Merlin spotted Camelot's towering walls. The strong pillars of the castle were shoved into the ground in a way that screamed stubbornness. The bones of the kingdom held tight in Uther's grip. Merlin shook his head, ridding himself of thoughts of his father. Right now he didn't want to think about any of that.

"How am I supposed to fix that?" Merlin muttered, staring up at the door in the tree. It swung creakily back and forth in the wind. Suddenly there was a crack and a shake and the door thudded to the floor, scattering crimson leaves in its wake.

Cringing at the noise, Merlin hesitated and then tip-toed to the door. It was heavy and damp in his hands. Quickly, he hauled it back to the tunnel and set the door over the hole. He adjusted a few branches over the top.

There. No one would ever know.

Shivering, Merlin pulled away, deeper into the forest. It wasn't cold, but he felt like a toy rattled by a dog, jumping and jittering at every sound.

I shouldn't have done this. He wasn't brave enough. Not strong or confident enough to pull this off.

Pull it off.

Before he could talk sense to himself, Merlin's fingers wrapped feverishly around the clasp on his cloak and the tie that held up the mask beneath. In moments, with a few simple flicks, the cloak fell like spilled ink of the Prince's shoulders, revealing his skinny form. The mask fell soon after.

For a moment, Merlin felt paralyzed, staring at it. It was light in his hands, black and almost weightless. How could something so thin and insignificant feel like such a burden? The only other times Merlin had ever taken the mask off was when he was alone in his room.

"I'm still alone," Merlin whispered to himself, still not taking his eyes away. But he sure wasn't in his room.

At that, a smile crept up his face and with an uncertain mixture of disdain and care, Merlin wrapped the mask in the cloak and tucked it between the roots of a large oak tree. He would remember it.

Once the deed was done, Merlin exhaled slowly. "What now?" he whispered.

The world brightened around him, and Merlin smiled.

Now, it was time to run.

Merlin had not thought himself as particularly athletic. Then again, try sword fighting in a floor-length cloak and a mask. It took considerable effort not to fall on his face. With the myriads of instructors who had all left in disgust, it was a wonder Merlin tried to run at all.

But right now.

Right now he felt like he could fly.

The world was zipping past him. The moonlight and the light from his eyes were more than enough to brighten his way, so he ran and ran.

Not toward anything. Not away either.

Just running. For the sake of it.

Was that odd?

Maybe it was just the knowledge that this was his. His moment. His piece of the night that no one could dissect. No whispers. No watching eyes.

Just me.

And right then? That was more than enough.

After a long time, Merlin never knew how long, the Prince skidded to a stop. His steps scraped against a pebbled beach, and a great expanse of black water lurked ahead of him. A lake.

Breathing heavily, Merlin bent down to catch his breath, his eyes straying to the floor. His boots were caked in mud. Have to fix that when I get back.

Satisfied, Merlin dropped to the ground, crossing his long legs. He looked out over the water and absently flicked a stone. It plopped into the water and sank, causing ripples to expand farther and farther until he could no longer see them.

Amazing. All of that racket from one little stone.

It was then that he first heard it. The rustle of footsteps, the clips of rushing horses, and finally the sound of steel.

Instantly, Merlin stiffened. Do I move? Will they see me if I move? Oh, gods, Uther has found me. He figured it out.

There were voices. Loud. Jeering. Not like knights. "Get yer blooming arse back here, you thieving piece of cattle slop!"

Carefully, Merlin crept from the beach toward a large tree. There was a small sort of hollow beneath the roots where the water had eroded the land away. Silently, Merlin crawled under and peaked to look toward the sound. For a moment, there was nothing but trees. But then.

There.

A flicker of fire. A torch?

Were they coming closer?

Several men, gruff, were talking all at once, but a sharper voice cut the sound. "Look, you stole it from the woman, why shouldn't I steal it back?"

"That was my horse!" someone shouted.

Merlin pulled back, deeper into the hollow, wishing he had a way out of this situation. None, that he could see. To get back to Camelot, he would have to run through the midst of the men.

"Blimey, you're thick," the younger voice said. "Just cause you stole it didn't mean I couldn't take it back."

"Give me my horse."

"I haven't got your horse! I gave it back to the woman you took it from!"

There were sounds of scraping footsteps, rustling leaves as the men stepped nearer. "I don't know who you think you are, boy, but I am-"

"You are a spineless thieving brute. Yes, I know. That has been established."

The man roared, and Merlin cringed. The boy was going to get himself killed with talk like that.

He's going to die while I cower here in this corner.

That did not sit right. Merlin pursed his lips. Maybe he could distract the men while the boy-

Too late. The silhouetted form broke away from the men, just missing a lunge by a tallish hunk, and dashed.

"Get him!" They shouted in various manners, rushing in the direction the boy had run.

They thundered off, and after a moment, the boy darted back from the direction he had come. Instead of running toward Camelot, as he had made it seem, the young man was running straight toward the lake.

Wait.

Shoot.

Merlin tried to scramble away, but the boy was too fast, with agility, he jumped over a fallen tree log and swung himself into the hollow, which he must have spotted.

Right next to Merlin.

The boy was breathing heavily.

He started violently when he saw Merlin. "Holy- who on Earth are you?"

Merlin opened his mouth. No words escaped. No mask. He was sitting here without a mask.

"No matter," the young man continued. He withdrew a dagger from his boot and pointed it at Merin matter of factly. "Let me hide here as well otherwise, I will kill you."

Merlin blinked. He barely registered the dagger. Finally, words found his lips. "W-with that little thing?" he said.

The young man's eyes narrowed. "It's quite sharp. Would you like a demonstration?"

Now that he was speaking, words came faster than Merlin could control. "I think it is our best interests if we are quiet, so your spineless thieving brute doesn't find us."

The man let the dagger drop to his side quickly. He smirked and whispered. "That was a good one, wasn't it?"

"It was insane. He could have killed you."

"Naw," the man shrugged and settled deeper into the hollow. They went silent as the thieves thundering steps came closer again.

"Where'd he go?"

"Look by the lake!"

Both boys stiffened, hardly daring to breathe.

They're going to find him. And then they'll find me, and the Prince won't show up tomorrow, and what on earth were you thinking, doing this?

"Can you stop that?" the young man whispered beside him. "They might see."

Merlin turned to look at him. "Stop what?"

"Are you and elf or something?" The man said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Your eyes. They're bright."

Merlin flinched. Were his eyes glowing again? And if they were, why was the boy so calm? His words came out in a jumbled heap. "Oh. Ah, no. I don't really know-"

"Shh," the man interrupted him quickly. The footsteps were closer now. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Do it!" There was a something strong in the man's voice, and Merlin's eyes snapped shut immediately. Did that strength come from leadership or ego? Merlin wasn't sure.

They sat like that in the mud and the dark and the quiet for several minutes. Finally the shouts of the bandits or brutes or whoever they were faded into the distance. They thought the young man had ultimately headed toward Camelot.

A sigh of relief left the young man's lips, and he vaulted himself out of the hollow quickly. "Come on. Quickly. I've got a better hiding place. That was thrilling, wasn't it?"

"Not the word I would have used."

The young man laughed. "You're alright, kid." He stuck down a hand, and Merlin grabbed it hesitantly. His grip was strong and warm as he pulled Merlin up. They were soon on the beach once more. The man started toward the forest. "My camp is a bit west. It's pretty hidden, and those idiots haven't enough brains nor effort to search that deep. We'll be safer there."

Merlin nodded, brow furrowed, and nervously followed. The man had seen his eyes. Did he know it was magic? Of course, he knows it's magic. He also had to know that keeping company with 'magicked folk' was against the law. So why would he offer to share his camp?

The man seemed to sense Merlin's confusion because he smiled a sad sort of smile. He knew exactly what Merlin was thinking."Hey, it's alright." the man murmured, He glanced toward where the thieves had disappeared. Still nervous, of course. "I'm not going to hurt you. I mean, I tried to kill you, sort of, but that wasn't because of magic or whatever that is you've got."

Merlin blinked, suddenly aware of his maskless face once more. Were his eyes glowing now? No. He couldn't see very well. "Why?" he asked.

"Let's go." he answered impatiently. I'll explain on the way."

Still Merlin hesitated. "How do I know you haven't got someone waiting at your camp to catch me?"

The man gave Merlin a look like he'd drooled onto his shirt. "I was just running for my life. Do you really think I had time to plan to run into an elf and then convince him into coming back with me all so that I can hand him over for a few coins?"

Merlin wasn't sure what to say. That made an irritatingly large amount of sense.

There was a shout in the distance, and it pushing Merlin over the edge. The forest soon swallowed the young man and Merlin.

"What's your name?" Merlin said between breaths and the thuds of his feet.

The blonde looked back. "Arthur."

AN: Sorry about the wait. Please leave a REVIEW :DDDD