A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for making it this far. Teehee.

So this fanfiction will include many of the important events in Merlin and Arthur's life, but write pretty long winded as it is, so things will be cut out for your sake... Let me know in a review or PM me if there is something that you think I should definitely keep, or change!

Happy reading.

It was getting more and more difficult. With every clang of metal against metal he felt his arms weakening. Every step he took he felt like his knees were going to give out. As the giant man hammered his sword towards the blond man with devastating blows, the young man sidestepped and parried, blocked and counter attacked. They were sparing at a grueling pace. It was getting more and more difficult to keep up.

The young man would have been fine had this been his first spar of the day. He would have been fine if this had been his 10th spar of the day. But the Prince had been training and sparing one on one with his knights all afternoon. Training the future knights of Camelot had become his main duty, his responsibility. The one thing his father gave him full control over. The prince of Camelot was a prodigy of swordplay. Within the first few moments of a spar he could instinctively understand his opponents fighting style and alter his own style accordingly. Prince Arthur seemed to always be in reach of a sword and a sparing partner. So even though the prince might not have been the strongest or the fastest of all his knights, he was definitely the most practiced. Which ended up giving him a rather lethal combination of skills. This combination had not let him down ever, as our prince is unmatched among his friends and enemies.

There was a first time for everything thought. Our prince could not afford do relax, not in his practice nor this match.

Who could possibly relax when one of the largest knights you have ever seen was currently pummeling you into the ground? Sure, to the untrained eye you would assume that Arthur was simply putting his soldier through his paces, as none of the giant knights blows connected in a disarming way. But Arthur's stamina was dwindling after his long day and it was getting harder to maintain the nonchalant attitude of appearance of ease he had kept up until now.

No. He was the Prince of Camelot. He was a symbol of all that Camelot is, and could be. It doesn't matter if this was his first match of the day or his hundredth. He couldn't lose. He wouldn't lose. It wasn't an option…At least not in his father's eyes. If he showed any weakness, especially in training, it would just give his father more cause to treat him like a child.

Another blow was coming at him, too close to dodge Arthur absorbed the hit and felt pain shoot down his shoulders and into his back, Arthur fought back a grimace. He needed to end this. His opponent was strong. Really strong, but the Arthur had the advantage of speed. Or at least he would have if Arthur hadn't overdone it… yet again.

The Prince and the knight locked swords, faces inches apart. Both men were pushing with all their weight to try to get the other competitor to fold. Both men were sweating. The larger man's face was flushed, while Arthur's was ashen with exhaustion. Arthur steeled his resolved and shifted his weight, lifting his opponent's sword up a fraction and ducking. From this angle he was able to push his sword hilt forward and to the side, which put the larger knight's wrist at an awkward angle and creating an opening. An opening which Arthur swiftly took advantage of. He elbowed the man and disarmed him. The prince jabbed his sword forward and stopped just short of a kill shot. He stood there for a moment then dropped his sword to the ground, inwardly relieved.

"Nice work" He barked. The knighted bowed to Arthur and replied "Thank you my lord". Arthur was already walking away.

"That's all for now. Turn in your equipment and be here tomorrow ready" He announced. Arthur turned and walked towards the stables behind the courtyard. He strutted through the groups of knights ignoring how they were bowing to him. He quickened his pace and was almost at a light jog as he entered into the stables. He turned in and slumped down to the ground back against the wooden wall, completely out of sight.

He had to grow tougher. He couldn't show such weakness again. Not with his father always breathing down his neck.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wooden wall behind him and took a deep but shaky breath in. He stretched out his legs and untied his light training armor. He was to be crowned Prince soon. Which would mean more time learning the political side of being King. Joy. He opened his eyes and looked around. He needed to blow off some steam.

Merlin:

Merlin walked into Camelot and through the market with wonder in his eyes. Everything was just as he remembered it. His eyes skirted from person to person, cart to cart, hungrily taking everything in. Merlin breathed in and smiled. He briefly fought the urge to lie down in the middle of the road and laugh.

Yep. That would have been a great first impression… Not that he did exceptionally well the first time around either. Merlin still harbored an irrational fear of tomatoes.

Merlin walked into the courtyard and he found himself suddenly dodging people left and right, as a large crowd was funneling out. Confused, Merlin fought his way to one of the outer walls and skirted out of the way. He watched the faces pass by then turned his gaze towards the center of the courtyard, where the body of the executed man still lie.

His good mood dimmed. The courtyard was emptying out, families looked at each other and tentatively smiled, children were talking, the guards looked bored. Camelot had grown too accustomed to death. Merlin walked towards the dead sorcerer, his face not portraying any of his internal turmoil. He climbed up the three wooden stairs and stood on the platform slightly behind the fallen man.

"Get away from there, boy." A guard gruffly called out to him. Merlin, unhearing, lowered his eyes and looked at the ground between him and the sorcerer and grieved.

Merlin's eyes flew open as someone grabbed at the back of his shirt. Merlin suddenly found himself being propelled backwards through the air. His heart jumped in his throat as his back hit the ground. The air was nocked out of his lungs and he wheezed for a moment as he reoriented himself.

"I said Get. Away." Merlin slowly tried sitting up but the guard shoved him back down to the ground with one hand. The guard smirked and looked at Merlin lying in the dirt with disgust, then stood up and walked back to his post. Merlin propped himself up then stood, feeling his back straining.

Arthur:

What is he doing?

It was just happenstance that Arthur was still looking out the window to see the man get dragged away from the body. He was walking through the corridor, away from his father, and towards the armory when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Nothing remarkable was happening, it was just some boy walking towards the executioner's station. Upon further observation it might have been a man, a skinny gawky man, but a mostly full-grown man nonetheless. Even so, it made Arthur stop.

The rest of the public had mostly filtered out, and the guards were back at their posts. Everyone was moving on with his or her life. Unlike this person, this person wasn't ignoring it; this man wasn't avoiding eye contact. He was facing the body. Walking towards it. Eyes open. Arthur turned towards the window and approached it; his accompanying guards stopped abruptly realizing their Prince had stalled.

"What is it sire?" one of his knights asked peering over his shoulder.

Arthur didn't answer, he continued to watch the black haired approach the block and walk up the stairs. Arthur's eyebrows rose in curiosity as he asked himself again; what is that idiot doing? The prince watched from the side as the young man ascended the stairs and stopped to look down at the body at his feet. Arthur watched him close his eyes. From this far away it was hard to tell what the expression was on the man's face.

The man looked very thin; thin enough that one strong gust of wind might topple him over. Then there was a slight shift in the man's stance. Minute as the change was, it made a world of difference. It was as if all the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. The awkward looking man became rooted to the ground, centered, and strong. He stood over the deceased sorcerer as if he was a guardian statue, not a weak commoner.

That immobility proved to be an illusion, as one of the courtyard guards had walked out from underneath where Arthur stood and over to the man to yank him backwards by the collar. The black haired man toppled to the ground, Arthur saw the guard give the man another shove. The guard was walking back to his station, far below the window the Prince was currently peering out from when from behind the guard the man in question lifted himself up.

He could see the man's face clearly now. The Prince wasn't sure what it had looked like standing on the executioner's block but now the man's face was scrunched in annoyance. Even so, there was no real heat behind the man's eyes, no anger or hatred at being thrown to the ground. The intensity radiating from man earlier was completely gone, replaced by a rather foolish look of indignation. The man stood up, brushed off the dust on his clothes and sent an idiotic look to the back of the guard still walking away.

Arthur felt his mouth quirk up in a half smile. He caught it before it got too far, and he schooled his features. He turned to continue down the hall and dragged his gaze away from the man in the courtyard.

Merlin:

Castle guards are absolutely the worst. Give me scores of corrupted sorcerers, a rapidly moving plague, even Uther on a bad day; but please spare me from idiot guards whose only purpose is to stand around uselessly.

Merlin stood and made a face at the guard, daring him to turn around. When he didn't Merlin stood up and brushed off the dirt from his pants. He sighed; well as useless as guards are at least he was back to see them act stupidly. Merlin left the courtyard and meandered around the castle grounds. He must have walked for quite a while as the sun was starting to begin it's downward decent as Merlin found himself entering the training grounds. Merlin felt himself being pulled in two very opposite directions. Merlin longed to see his friend again, his brother, his King. But on a different strand Merlin felt a pit in his stomach. This was what he had been waiting for for scores of years… why was he hesitating now? He cleared his throat uncomfortably and walked around the bend, he was staring at the ground prolonging the moment.

Arthur:

"Run!" Sir Elric laughed. "Moving target practice he said!" Arthur leaned back arrogantly and readied his next throwing knife, zeroing in on the target.

He let loose another throwing blade, striking the outer corner of the centermost ring of the target. He heard a squeal of fear from the servant holding the target. Arthur didn't care; he needed a little bit of fun after another long day of the always-crippling pressure.

He felt, more than saw, Elric ready his own blade. Elric was not as good of a shot as Arthur was, but he was decent enough. Arthur probably should have stopped him but he didn't.

Elric let loose his blade and hit the outer corner of the target throwing off the poor servant's balance. The running man pitched forward and was about to land rather hard and awkwardly on the unyielding ground, when out of nowhere someone grabbed the servant's arm in an iron like grasp keeping the man afoot.

The target wobbled to the ground, as the servant looked up into his savior's eyes, the man that caught him was quite a bit taller that the shaky servant, albeit much skinnier.

"All right?" The black haired man asked. There was warmth emanating from the man's eyes that engulfed the servant and thawed his anxiety. The servant found himself clasping his free hand to the other man's shoulder and returning the smile in thanks.

"Where did you come from?" The frazzled servant laughed.

The man smiled and his eyes grew even more warm and friendly, if possible.

"Farther away than you might think." He replied with a hidden smile.

"But, who are you? I thought I knew everyone who worked in the palace?"

"Well your record is still intact as I don't work in the palace. I'm visiting, the name is Merlin." He replied, eyes glancing over to the crowd of knights watching on confused on how to react.

The black haired man smiled and cuffed the smaller man on the shoulder.

"It's funny, isn't is?" Merlin announced, suddenly louder as if he wanted to be overheard…

"Camelot is more than just the land we are standing on. It is more than it's rulers. It is more than a palace, even if the palace is as grand is this one," Merlin said gesturing to the large castle looming over them all.

"Camelot's heart is found in its people," Merlin's hand briefly pressed on the smaller servant's chest over where his heart would be.

He continued, "Camelot's real strength lies with its people." Merlin glanced pointedly to the group of men standing off a ways.

"You would think that Knights of Camelot, sworn to protect Camelot, would understand that. They would understand the fact that attacking one of its people is attacking Camelot itself." Merlin closed his eyes and swung his head low.

Arthur was staring at the man, Merlin, with furrowed brows. Who was this man? How dare this commoner admonish him, the Prince? The thought slipped past his subconscious without any effort at all. It was a practiced reaction. One he had learned from a very early age from his father. When this feeling slipped to the surface it cut him to the quick, because this was exactly what the man was speaking to. For some reason Arthur really felt those words deeply, they held more weight that they maybe should have.

The man turned to walk away and Arthur started to panic. Before he could stop Arthur found himself shouting to the man

"You… Boy… Tell me, do you know how to walk on your knees?" The prince said with a dangerous tone. Inwardly cringing, the prince still hoped his threat hit home enough to get a rise out of the man.

Merlin, with his back to the group, turned slightly and looked over his shoulder eyes connecting with the Prince's for the first time. "Yes, I can." He smirked and turned and kept walking.

Arthur, smiling, put a hand out to stop a few of his fellow knights who started towards the slowly retreating figure.