Story fandom: Merlin.
Characters: Merlin/Arthur
Warnings: Rated M for later chapters.
General Storyline: A story, taking course over many years, telling the friendship/relationship between Merlin and Arthur and how, in my version, how it changes as they grow up. It's not as boring as it sounds, i hope.

[UPDATED]

Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.
Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.
Walk beside me and be my friend."
- Albert Camus.

It has been a while since Merlin had last spoken. He just kept on rambling on and on about nothing and everything all at the same time. It annoyed Arthur so much, he just had to suggest that Merlin should stop talking, it was only a suggestion, he didn't have to be such a baby about it and sulk. In all honesty, it was quite interesting what Merlin was talking about, well that was until he drifted onto a boring, unrelated subject. It's not that he found Merlin boring; he was just finding it particularly hard keeping the annoying oaf happy.

Arthur had gained some information from Merlin, he didn't go into great detail of his home life, only basic information but from what he had heard he had learned that Merlin's an only child, much like he was and he seemed to live nearby, if not in, Camelot. It gave Arthur a pleasant feeling to know that someone was in a similar situation as he was. That was, of course, before Merlin started going on about things that Arthur couldn't even possibly care, or want to hear about.

Arthur started to wonder, had he been too harsh? Had he snapped? Or barked? Or bite Merlin like a vicious dog, hurting Merlin with ease? By the way, Merlin had reacted he could say yes, yes he did snap, barked and hurt Merlin. But he hadn't said anything that harsh! Maybe Merlin was one of those unfortunate sensitive souls, who are offended all the time and frustrate Arthur every day. He hoped not but he found it most likely.

The wind had started picking up again, becoming icy making both boys' skin feel prickly and unpleasant. Arthur pulled his sleeves down to his wrists, trying to obtain some warmth. Arthur looked over at Merlin, who had been silent for a quite some time. He followed Merlin in whatever direction Merlin took the two of them. However, by the looks of things, Merlin wasn't too sure where he was going. He kept on changing directions, stopping and starting, going back on himself and walking around in circles. He was tense, his shoulders rigid and his fists clenched tight. Arthur gave up on following Merlin and lent against a thin pale tree and watched him instead. It was tiresome just watching Merlin, who was hopelessly trying to find his way around the green wood to wherever it was he was trying to get to.

"Where on earth are you trying to go to, Merlin?" Arthur called over to the scrawny boy, who ignored him for a brief second before facing him.

"I'm trying to get back to my mother" Merlin grumbled, walking past Arthur to the other side of the tree. Arthur twisted his body and faced Merlin, still watching him intently.

"And where would she be?" Arthur asked in slight mocking tone, a grin almost on his lips.

"Camelot. Camelot is where we live," Merlin mumbled, his lips pursed together trying to keep himself calm. Really? Arthur couldn't help think, he looked the boy over once again, he hadn't seen him before, not once, but he lived in Camelot? How strange. But what seemed more strange is that Merlin didn't seem to recognize him at all, the prince of the kingdom he lived in and he didn't even recognize him! Who was this boy? He approached Arthur, his feature sharp and body tense, he looked at Arthur with a slight glare, an expression in Arthur's opinion was unjust and not needed.

"Do you know the way?" Arthur smiled, walking over to stand next to Merlin. He glanced up at the sky, trying to find the sun, and then he looked around at the vegetation. Merlin frowned at Arthur; did he know what he was doing? Arthur straightened up and looked back at Merlin, he inserted his index finger inside his mouth for a brief second, before holding it up in front of Merlin's face, trying to feel the direction of the wind.

He frowned before smirking at Merlin, using the same finger to point to his right and announce, "It's that way". Arthur didn't wait for Merlin's reply instead; he started walking in that direction. Merlin felt slightly flabbergasted, he had spent ages trying to find the right way back to Camelot and Arthur just happened to know the right way, from sticking his finger in the air! Who was this boy?

"Come on, Merlin" Arthur called from a short distance away, waving his strong arm in the air, looking back Merlin with a large grin on his face, which in Merlin's opinion was rather smug. Merlin couldn't help but feel, since the first after they collided, wary of Arthur. Where was he taking him? Was he really taking him back to Camelot? Or further into the wood? Was it wise for Merlin to let this stranger take him back to safety? Could he trust Arthur?

Arthur took a sharp right walking a full circle around a large tree, before carrying on forward. Copying Merlin's previous behavior, mocking him. He gave Merlin a smug, teasing smile while waving at him briefly telling him to follow after. "You're too cocky for your own good, you know that right?" Merlin called out to Arthur, following his footsteps deliberately side-stepping the tree where Arthur was standing near-by. Arthur smirked at Merlin walking a few paces in front of him.

"It's called confidence, Muhrlin!" Merlin ignored Arthur's remark, fighting the urge to mock his words. Arthur was being rather noisy. His steps were shallow and precise but his humming was unbearable. He hummed a tune that Merlin wasn't familiar with, it was short and upbeat and he repeated it again and again, getting louder and louder. Merlin let a frustrated sigh, quickly glancing back at Arthur in annoyance as he walked past him but Arthur just smiled back in triumph, getting the reaction he wanted.

"So, you live in Camelot?" Arthur's asked trying to not sound too interested as Merlin grumbled.

"Yes, with my mother," Merlin said with a sigh, his feet landing too hard on the dry dirt causing a twig to snap, sending a loud echo through the wood.

"And father?" Arthur watched Merlin's shoulders clenched and his pace quicken, ignoring Arthur completely.

"Fine then, don't answer my question" Merlin could practically feel Arthur's eyes rolling against his eye sockets, Merlin took a moment to imagine what that would be like. He pictured when his mother uses a pestle to grind herbs into fine dust in a mortar; the sound of the two harsh stones rubbing against one another causing friction, it always caused Merlin's teeth to go on edge. They weren't standing too close, Merlin made sure of that, he still didn't fully trust Arthur and was uncomfortable with his questions. Merlin quickened his pace once again feeling that he had slowed down. Arthur was fluid and confident in his steps as if he knew where he was going and was familiar with the ground beneath them, Merlin was envious of that. Arthur's voice was still loud in Merlin's ears as if it was being carried by the wind.

"So..." Arthur elongated the word, annoying Merlin even more. He plucked a leaf of a nearby plant, ripping into little pieces before letting the broken blade fall, scattering onto the ground. He carried on with this strange action until Merlin marched back up to him and snatched the new leaf from his hands and threw it to the floor.

"Stop it," Merlin glared straight into Arthur's twinkling, light blue eyes.

"How long have you been living in Camelot? Your entire life-"

"For the last three months," Merlin watched as Arthur plucked another leaf from a tree's branch, smiling back at him as he placed the sticky leaf against his dry palm. Merlin rolled his eyes, walking on. Arthur watched Merlin carefully he didn't recognize him at all, perhaps he was one of the peasants in the lower town? Most likely. He was probably poor and without boundaries, that could be why he's not at home with his mother, it must be about mid-day now or coming close to it. Arthur knew they weren't far from Camelot's gates, but he had some satisfaction from being able to conduct this mission back home, with someone who was completely oblivious to the fact that for the last fifteen minutes, they had been walking in the wrong direction once again. Merlin really has been living for just three months.

"Where did you live before?" Arthur knew if he had more of an insight of the boy's more familiar surroundings, he could perhaps place him better or understand his situation more.

"A small village called Ealdor." Arthur's nose crinkled, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. Ealdor? Ealdor? Was that even in his kingdom? He had never heard of it before. Arthur went into deep thought, trying hard to place the small villages' whereabouts. He would have asked Merlin what direction it was in, which river ran by it, what side of the mountains it was, but by the looks of it, Merlin didn't know his North from his South. Unbeknownst to Arthur, he had started another annoying habit; picking up twigs and snapping them in half. It set Merlin's teeth on edge.

"I've never heard of it-" Merlin stood in front of Arthur once again, glaring at him, snatching the twig from Arthur's grasp and chucked the twig far away from them.

"I didn't expect you to!" Merlin snapped at Arthur, almost shouting at him. Arthur could feel his teasing nature leave him. He was starting to get annoyed at Merlin, for being so short with him. Arthur was only trying to get to know the poor sod; Merlin didn't have to be so rude about it.

"Okay, Okay, there's no need to be so grouchy!" Arthur huffed and stormed away from Merlin, walking in the right direction. Merlin finally calmed down and followed Arthur further into the wood; the trees were long and tall, dawning down onto the two small boys. Merlin had always loved the wood back in Ealdor, the trees weren't so tall but more dense and twisted, covered in ivy and moss.

The air in Ealdor was always so crisp and fresh, no matter the season or weather. Camelot, however, smells like ash and iron. It was murky in the town, the air filled with dust and mud, making it sour with a tint of manure and human feces. However, inside the courts, it was cool and had a tint of lavender and jasmine. Merlin had heard that during the winter, it smelled like spiced apple, cinnamon, and rich ale. The differences between the rich and poor were definitely noticeable. It angered Merlin seeing the royal family and friends, parade around in their luxuries, whilst the poor work for the minimum they can get and having to watch, wishing for something more, but not being able to have it. It was a tricky subject for Merlin, coming from Ealdor, which was a poor farming village. He didn't fully understand the way of life in Camelot, just yet, but he did know the differences between right and wrong. And this was definitely not right.

Arthur walked in long casual strides humming softly to himself. It was barely audible, a soft relaxing noise that was soothing with long notes and not many key changes, it suited Arthur's vocal range (not that he had much of a vocal range) causing his voice to become very deep and to vibrate. Merlin had a feeling he has heard this tune before, perhaps his mother had sung it to herself after a long night serving in the royal family, Lords, and Ladies in the banquet hall. A big difference from earlier, when he had hummed at the top of his voice, purposely trying to annoy Merlin. Merlin started to feel more suspicious of Arthur than just merely irritated by his frustrating antics. Who was he? How did he know his way around the wood so well? And why was he so familiar? Where had he seen Arthur before? Merlin examined Arthur's appearance. He was slightly taller than Merlin, his shoulders boarder than other boys his age. His complexion was darker than Merlin's pale skin; he was lightly tanned and clear of all imperfections making his skin look smooth. His hair was a mixture of mousy browns and light blondes tones; he looked quite a bit different to everyone else in Camelot; who had dark hair and dark eyes. Another thing that made Merlin feel a bit uneasy around Arthur was, how confident he was. He mustn't be that much older than Merlin, and yet he acted with so much assurance in himself, he seemed fearless. Merlin was envious, but at the same time slightly terrified.

"Do you live in Camelot?" Arthur slowed down his long strides, letting Merlin full in step with him. He glanced at him, thinking his answer over. "Yes. Uh, why did you move?"

"Uh?" Merlin asked, feeling slightly flabbergasted by Arthur's quick answer. Merlin felt slightly cheated; here he was giving suitable answers to inappropriate questions, just to make Arthur happy, while Arthur himself just shrugged off Merlin's questions, without a care!

"From A-door?" Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Ealdor... And there's no reason..." Merlin mumbled, rubbing his forearm. He felt slightly nervous, the subject of his and his mother's move from their little village has never been directed at him before. Whenever anyone had asked, his mother would reply with a clear, easy answer. Merlin wasn't as good at lying as his mother, though he hated to admit his mother had lied, well she hadn't lied completely but she hadn't told him the entire truth. Yes, that sounded better.

"Why?" Arthur's clear, precise voice invaded Merlin's ears with a violent echo, leaving him to feel angered and defenseless.

"Because...!" Merlin squawked. His voice had gone noticeably a few decimals higher. Arthur's neat eyebrow rose, he was becoming more and more intrigued by this fascinating stranger, wanting to solve the puzzle that was Merlin.

"Because...?" Merlin hated Arthur's pushing, why was he so keen on having an answer? What any business of it of his? Why was he so insistent on getting his own way?

Merlin glanced towards the blonde on his left. Arthur's handsome head was cocked to the side, staring back at Merlin, excepting more of an answer. Merlin could feel his cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger. If only Arthur understood what he was asking, what he was really asking. Then again, he didn't know about the rare magical gift that coursed through Merlin's veins. He couldn't begin to understand how difficult it was to keep this, "gift" (as his mother called it) a secret. He will never know how it feels to have magic run through him, to have the power to be able to move things twice his height and weight, from one side of his house to the other, without lifting a finger, when he was only a toddler. He'll never understand, especially when he's a possible product of Camelot's cruel expectations. He cannot understand.

Maybe that was why Merlin was so reluctant to warm up to Arthur. Merlin has always been told to keep his gift for magic a secret. That he could only fully trust the people, who knew and expected him for it.

The wind had suddenly become surprisingly bitter. Guilt pained Merlin as he watched, the boy next to him shiver and sigh. Merlin tried to relax his tensing muscles, knowing his emotions were, somehow, affecting the weather. He has always been able to do it. The weather would change according to his overwhelming emotions; it was one of the many things about himself that he couldn't control, one of the many reasons why he had to leave his lovely home.

"Well?" Arthur's voice boomed into Merlin left ear. The blonde boy nudged the younger kid. Merlin felt the embarrassment come back, making him nervous. "Because my mother thought we'd have a better life here! Okay!" Merlin rubbed his red checks.

"Okay..." Merlin started to feel more relaxed. Maybe Arthur was going to stop asking him about his personal life. "Does your mother work?" Merlin groaned, his nerves turning to anger once again.

"Yes... She's a chambermaid. Why?" Arthur let out a noise out of deep thought, nodding his head. However, the expression on his face was slightly odd, his noses scrunched up tight, his light blue eyes keeping focused on his shoes. He looked conflicted like he was trying to keep something to himself. Or maybe he was similarly trying to keep his disappointment from Merlin. But why should he feel disappointed? It's not his mother; it's not his lifestyle. Perhaps he'd expecting Merlin to be a noble prince, dashing and charming in all of his luxuries.

"What?" Merlin asked, watching Arthur closely.

"Nothing... I suppose that's respectable work..." Arthur replied, scratching the back of his neck. Merlin stepped over a large, moss-covered log on the ground. He tripped on it, his toes getting caught on the wood. His hands flung out to grasp onto something to stop his full. Merlin felt something soft under his hands and quickly, without thinking, grabbed onto it and brought it down with him, to the ground, with the twigs and leaves.

"Ah!" Arthur let out a gasp of surprise as he collides, once again, with the hard ground. The twigs snapped loudly under the sudden weight. He groaned in pain, knowing he has been injured, but wasn't quite sure where the origin of his injuries was located. Arthur tried moving, however, found it impossible; as there was a reasonable amount of weight on his body, he knew straight away it was Merlin's gangly figure. Without giving it much thought he shoved Merlin off him. They both grunted as the sudden change, pain shooting through their bodies.

Merlin was the first to speak. He leaned over Arthur's body, looking down at him; his cheeks flushed red with anger. At first, he had one hand on either side of Arthur's waist, before he sat back on his heels, glaring down at Arthur. Merlin looked so angry, a light layer of mud on his face and brown leaves in his raven hair. He would have almost looked comical if it wasn't for his continuous glare. Arthur wasn't going to crumble under Merlin gaze, so instead, he sneered back at him, batting Merlin's hands away from his side, so he could sit up.

"It is!" Merlin finally squeaked out.

"Pardon?" Arthur looked at Merlin as if he were crazy making Merlin physically shook in anger.

"My mother's work... It is respectable! And by the sounds of it, you wouldn't know what work is if it hit you around the face, with a tremendous sign saying; "This is work" You prat!" The raven-haired boy screamed, causing Arthur to feel slightly set back, surprised by his outburst.

"Tremendous. That's a big word Merlin, you sure you know what it means?" Arthur smirked, leaning back against his elbows, looking up at Merlin and cloudy sky.

"Don't mock me!" Merlin shoved Arthur down against the ground, causing Arthur to yelp in surprise. However he quickly composed himself and sat up, so he was face to face with Merlin, and pushed the other boy back. "You can't treat me like that!" Arthur shouted in Merlin's sweaty face.

"Why not? What makes you so special?" Arthur pondered for a moment, on the prospects of telling Merlin that he was the prince of Camelot. But there was something much more compelling about just keeping quiet, and to talk to Merlin as if they were equals. It's was so pleasing to be able to talk to someone without hesitation, to share his inner, real thoughts than say what's expected out of him. He could just pretend for now, just for now, just until they return to Camelot, it's was better to do that, than go through that awkward conversation.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur muttered, staggering back up to his feet, Merlin following his actions. They patted themselves down, dusting off the mud and leaves. Arthur carried on their long route, his head hanging low, and avoiding Merlin's intense gaze. "Come on, hurry up. I've got to get back to Camelot" Arthur called. Merlin squinted his eyes; he left like Arthur was keeping from him. He watched at the older boy snatched his flushed face, patchy with sticky mud and snore with infected scrapes. Merlin walked in slow steps, feeling uneasy on his feet. He continued to watch Arthur; who look irritated, impatient.

"Oh, come on, hurry up! I've got to get back to Camelot." Arthur barked at Merlin, his voice harsh with high authority.

"Why?"

"Because!" Arthur threw his arms into the air, glaring at Merlin. "I don't want to spend any more time with you, you idiot!" He snarled, walking abruptly away from Merlin. Not waiting for the brunette to follow or catch up.

"Prat," Merlin whispered to himself, as he struggled to keep up with Arthur. Who was Arthur?

Will he ever be able to Merlin's friend?

- your feedback is always appreciated.