Hey y'all! In case any of you didn't read our bio, I'm calling myself EmrysAmbrosius and me and fandomqueen51 are sharing this account now. We'll be collaborating together and publishing together as well as separately. I just wanted to say that if any of y'all find any errors in my writing please tell me so I can fix it. And as always I want to know if there's any way I can improve on my writing.

Chapter 1

Arthur was lost. Really, truly, horribly lost. The forest was not the one he remembered, so he liked to think that there was no shame in his being lost. He had started on the path leading into the forest and before long, the path split and Arthur, obviously, had taken the wrong path. He had tried to back up, to find his way back to the lake and start again, but every time he did so, it looked as if the forest had rearranged itself. But that was crazy right? Arthur thought so. There was no way the forest could reorder itself.

Unless magic is being used, the voice in his head told him. It sounded suspiciously like his father's.

Go away, he told it. I don't need you.

The truth of the matter was that Arthur was still wary of magic. Sure, Merlin had proved to him that not all sorcerers are bad. And yes, Merlin had apparently saved his life numerous times with the aid of magic. Merlin is still just one man. One man cannot make up for the actions of hundreds. Arthur was willing to learn about magic, to ask the Druids for help. He was willing to let Merlin show him spells and enchantments, to give him time to prove magic isn't evil. And who knows, maybe one day he will allow magic back into Camelot. That would put a smile on Merlin's face, Arthur thought. But that does not mean he still doesn't have a deep distrust of magic, rooted in almost 25 years of pain and death.

"Hey!" Arthur heard a shout from behind him. "Hey you!"

Arthur spun around with battle fast instincts. He reached for his sword but came up short when he realized it wasn't there. Where is it and why had he not noticed it was missing before?

Arthur scanned the forest for the source of the shout. He couldn't see anything. Or anyone. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. But no, out of the corner of his eye Arthur saw a flash of movement from behind a tree. He ran toward the person, for it was obviously a person, what else could talk, expecting to be able to easily knock it down. What Arthur did not expect however, was for the person to take off running at a sprint. Arthur took off after him. He chased the man through the forest, off the path by now, ignoring the branches that ripped his clothes and cut his hands and face.

Soon enough Arthur began to tire, but he pushed himself on. He could not lose sight of the one thing that could lead him home. Arthur forced himself to run faster. Ahead of him, the man tripped over a tree root and Arthur used it to his advantage. He sped up even more and tackled the man as he was getting up. They both went crashing to the ground in a graceless lump. Arthur's breath was knocked out of him. Judging by the whoosh that came from underneath him, the man had lost his breath too.

Arthur took this time to survey the man under him. The closer he looked the more he realized the man is more like a boy. His face still holds some of the roundness of childhood, but the boy is obviously on his way to becoming a man. The boy's eyes were closed and Arthur could already see a bruise forming on his forehead. He must have hit his head when Arthur tackled him. Arthur tried not to feel too bad.

He rolled carefully off the boy, taking in his plain dark green shirt and his trousers, both made out a material that was foreign to Arthur. He had never seen or felt anything like it before. His shirt was not made out of silk, like Arthur's was, and it wasn't made of scratchy wool like the commoners. His trousers were not leather, but made of a rougher material that was blue in color. Arthur didn't even have a guess as to what it was.

Arthur shook the boy's shoulder, trying to wake him. The boy was unresponsive. Arthur shook him again, this time harder and was rewarded with his eyebrows crinkling. The boy groaned and blinked up at Arthur. The boy sat up quickly and scooted away from Arthur and backed up against a tree. He must have quickly decided Arthur wasn't a threat to him because he didn't try to run. He just sat against the tree trunk and blinked at Arthur. Arthur blinked right back and took these few moments to study the boy quietly.

There was something about him that Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on.

He had a head of light brown curly hair, much like Arthur remembered Leon's being. He was lanky and had pale skin. Arthur noticed his eyes were two different colors, which unnerved him. One eye was blue and the other was brown. When he was a child, Arthur recalled, he remembered his nurses telling him to beware of men who had different colored eyes. Something about them being sorcerers or bringing bad luck to the kingdom.

Arthur looked up and noticed the boy staring at him. His gaze was unsettling. "Who are you?" Arthur asked harshly.

"Don't see why I should tell you, mate," the boy answered. Arthur noticed his accent was very rough and throaty. He had never heard anything like that before. It took him for surprise. "Why don't you tell me your name and maybe I'll tell you mine," the boy compromised.

Arthur realized to get something out of the boy he'd have to give something first. "I'm… Arthur," he said, careful not to give away anything that could incriminate him. "Do you know where we are?" he asked.

"I'm Ciaran, thanks for asking," the boy muttered sarcastically. "And as to where we are, well, ain't it obvious? We're in the middle of nowhere."

Arthur sighed. He was getting increasingly worried. "Can you give me a straight answer?" he snapped.

Ciaran put his hand to his head and pulled it away. It came away wet with blood. Ciaran looked incredulously at Arthur. "You made me bleed, mate. What the hell?"

"Stop calling me mate," Arthur hissed. "I am not your friend." I am your king, he added in his head. "Just show me the way to the nearest village."

Ciaran stared. "Village?" he asked. "I don't know about any villages, but I was only joking with you. We're pretty close to London if it's the Tube you're looking for."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. "The Tube?" The unfamiliar words tasted strange in his mouth.

Ciaran opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the rustling of the trees. Arthur leapt to his feet and assumed a battle stance. He heard Ciaran stand up and wobble behind him. Arthur didn't know what was coming, but he needed to protect the boy so he could lead him back to Camelot.

"Ciaran!" called a girl's voice. "Ciaran, where are you?"

The boy melted behind Arthur. "It's just Reanna," he muttered. Arthur turned to look at him.

There was more rustling in the trees and Arthur turned around in time to see a young girl, probably around Ciaran's age step out of the tree line. She tripped over a tree root and fell down. Arthur, ever the gentleman, rushed forward to help her as Ciaran laughed. Arthur helped her up but she just waved him off with a muttered, "Don't bother, I'm fine." As she straightened, and Arthur got a good look at her, his breath was knocked out of his chest.

She looked just like Merlin.

Alright, there are some differences, Arthur will admit. She was a girl, for starts. As much as he might've stated otherwise, Arthur knew Merlin was not a girl. So obviously, this girl could not be Merlin. Another, key difference was that the girl, Reanna, Ciaran called her, had striking grey eyes. Hard and calculating, as opposed to Merlin's soft blue ones. But they had the same skin tone and cheekbones, and Reanna's hair is as dark as Merlin's, and falls down to her shoulders in soft messy curls. Arthur noticed she had streaks of dark red in her hair. He was unsure of how they got there and thank God - she did not seem to have Merlin's ears. This was a good thing, if she was in any way related to Merlin, which Arthur thought was possible, given how similar they look.

"Are you alright?" she asked Arthur. He gaped even more because her voice sounded like how Arthur remembered Hunith's being. He must have made a face because she laughed and smirked.

"Um… I… You….," Arthur stuttered. "I'm fine." He cleared his throat.

Ciaran laughed from behind him. "Oh, yeah," he said. "A real Keating we got here."

Reanna laughed. "Why are you bleeding?" she asked. If she was concerned at all for her friend, then she did a good job at hiding it, Arthur thought.

"I tripped." Ciaran waved it off.

Reanna narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, whatever," she said. To Arthur she said, "Come on. There's someone who wants to see you." She turned and walked back into the wood. Ciaran huffed and followed her, muttering about bossy girls. Arthur stood for a moment, debating about whether he should follow them or not. He decided, in the end, to follow them, because, as odd as they are, they could lead him back to Camelot. And, Reanna had said someone wanted to see him. Something about her told Arthur that she meant him no harm. Ciaran on the other hand – that same something told Arthur he would have no problem with hurting the king.

"Are you coming?" Reanna's voice called.

"Er – yeah," Arthur called. He scrambled to follow them through the woods.

After a while of walking through the forest, Arthur, Ciaran and Reanna came to a large house in a clearing. Arthur stopped in his tracks. The house looked so… odd. That was the only word Arthur could use to describe it. There was a small stone hut at the west side of the house. Connected to it was a larger ramshackle wooden house. It looked like it was falling apart. Next to that and connected by a metal bridge was a large house that was paneled in blue wood. It reminded Arthur of some lords' homes with how big it was.

Reanna and Ciaran led the way to the front of the building. They led Arthur up some steps and into the house. The inside was just as odd as the outside, at least to Arthur it was. Reanna and Ciaran seemed to not take of notice of it. Of course not, Arthur told himself, it seems as like they grew up here.

The entry was paneled in wood, the color of the trees in the forest outside of Camelot. There was a rug that was leading from the door into the main room. Arthur recognized the pattern as being from the Arabian Peninsula. He had seen similar patterns in gifts that the leaders of those kingdoms had given his father and later him. Arthur continued into the main room, following Reanna into the room as Ciaran deviated down another hallway.

"Where are you leading me?" Arthur asked, taking in the elephant statue that stood in an alcove.

"To your other half, of course," Reanna answered cheekily. Arthur stared at her in confusion.

"What?" Arthur was incredibly confused.

Reanna sighed. "Just wait. You'll be surprised, trust me."

They came to a door and Reanna pushed it open. She held it open for Arthur, who walked through and stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in front of a large altar-like podium was a tall, lanky man. From the back he could have been mistaken for anyone, but the man's ears – Arthur would recognize them anywhere.

The man was Merlin.