Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, although with a bit of magic maybe I could. . . ?

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's chapter three of Keepsake. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far as it's much appreciated. I'd also like to thank BelieveInMe90 who sent me a really lovely, encouraging PM! :) Hope you all enjoy this chapter. . . it's a bit of a longer one!

Keepsake

Chapter 3

"You are Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot; you are brave, kind and loyal, and I am and always will be your manservant Merlin. We trust each other, and even though you wouldn't admit it; we're best friends. Right now, you must listen to me and do exactly as I tell you."

Arthur felt himself nod weakly; the passion and belief in the younger man's voice shocked him. He could see his bloodied eye and bruised cheek bone up close now too. He looked awful.

The prince could tell Merlin would enjoy this in some sadistic way; the servant being able to boss around the prince without so much as a word of protest.

The younger boy fussed around him like a nervous hen, quickly dressing the blonde boy in his chainmail and armour, "Where's your armour?"

Merlin sighed, "Mine was taken off me for some reason. It's typical really, the one time you insist I wear it is the time it gets stolen off me before I even get to fight."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh softly at the servant's predicament; he watched as the boy got that wild look in his cerulean eyes again.

"Oh god, we don't even know if you can still fight."

The prince looked thoughtful for a minute, before impulsively laying the blade of his sword down on his foot, and then flipping it up and catching it in his hand.

A disbelieving smile crept across Merlin's face, "How did you know you could do that. . . ?"

Arthur stared at the gleaming length of his sword, "I don't know. . . I just kind of felt that I could do it."

"That means there's still something of the old you embedded inside somewhere- let's hope that includes your aptitude for fighting. A glimmer of the old you."

Arthur gave his servant a crooked smile, "We should get going."

Merlin nodded in agreement, falling into stride beside Arthur as they walked through the dense forest.

0*0*0*0*0

"Shh shh shhhhh. Can you hear that?" Arthur said after half an hour of walking, yanking Merlin next to him behind a large oak tree.

"No?" Merlin whispered loudly in reply.

"Well be quiet and listen then!" the blonde answered, Merlin huffing good naturedly. Maybe it is the same old Arthur.

Merlin poked his head round the other side of the tree, squinting through the dense foliage. He could hear marching; a flash of red and yellow; the Pendragon crest.

"Arthur! Arthur! Those are Camelot's knights!" Merlin cried out, pulling the prince from behind the tree, forgetting the remainder of his injuries as they fought their way through the small pine trees.

The two of them burst out onto the track, the nearby knights looking in shock at the state of the prince and his manservant. One of them spoke out, "Sire! Where on earth have you been? We've sent a party out looking for you!"

Arthur was about to speak when Merlin cut in, "We were captured; where's Sir Leon?"

The knight's face contorted into one of fear, looking to the prince and then back to Merlin, "He's riding at the front!"

"Thank you." Merlin replied breathlessly, dragging the crown prince into a run, ignoring the mixture of shocked and happy sounds coming from the knights they passed. He spotted Leon in the distance, bellowing his name.

"Sir Leon! Leon!"

The knight turned around, surprise closely followed by relief and then shock as he saw a rather battered prince and his manservant sprint up to his horse. He immediately dismounted and passed the reigns to a nearby foot soldier.

"Sire what an earth happened?"

"We were. . . captured. . . we've been having a lot of problems." Merlin spoke in between heaving breaths, Arthur leaning heavily on his knees.

"And you escaped?" Leon exclaimed, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

Merlin shrugged, "Not unscathed as you see, and also. . ."

The manservant grabbed the knight's upper arm gently, his beryl eyes boring into his, speaking through gritted teeth, "Arthur's lost his memory. He woke up and had no idea who he was."

Leon's jaw dropped open, "You can't be serious."

The young servant nodded his head sharply as he continued, "He woke up, and couldn't remember his own name, who I was, and that we were heading to war. I asked him how I was related to him. . . he said I was his cousin."

Leon's face was a picture; he glanced at the prince, who gave him an odd half wave.

He turned back to Merlin, who continued to speak quietly, "My main concern is- do the knights know their army tactics. . . or whatever they're called."

The knight nodded vigorously, "All the knights have been training for months; they're know what they're doing. They'll take orders from me or Arthur on top of that."

Merlin nodded sagely, "Thank god."

As they approached the edge of the field, they could see the impenetrably dark mass of Cenred's men on the other side. Merlin turned to the prince, a muscle twitching in his jaw as the men lined up around them. "You're fighting for the freedom of your father's kingdom; the kingdom you will one day rule and be known as the greatest king that lived. You have to fight for that, fight for your fate and for your past."

"I will." Arthur replied solemnly, holding eye contact with his servant. The prince wondered if he'd ever told the old Arthur that before. Either way, he couldn't help but suddenly smile broadly at the lithe boy in front of him.

Before he had a second thought to consider what he was doing, he strode out in front of his men, drawing his sword out and holding it aloft above his head, "Today, knights of Camelot, you are fighting for the freedom of your kingdom. You are fighting for you families' freedom, your children's' freedom and their children to come. You must fight for that fate, and fight for the past you keep there. Now, are you with me?"

The boom of male cries carried out across the field, temporarily subsuming the sound of the deep horn on the other side of the grass; it was time.

He stood beside Merlin once more, a slightly smug grin on his face, "Did you like my speech?"

"Some of it sounded rather familiar." his manservant quipped, "It was pretty good though, off the cuff."

"Do you think they bought it? I really am still not sure-"

"They bought it Arthur; they'll think you're perfectly normal." Merlin reassured, "Are you sure you don't want a horse?"

"We lost ours; I'm not taking someone else's." Arthur stated. His expression suddenly changed, and he looked at Merlin incredulously.

"Where on earth is you sword!"

"My sword? That got taken off me along with my armour I think."

"Well why didn't you say something!"

"I figured I could just grab a sword off the first person you kill."

Arthur snorted out a laugh, "Well if that's not morbid, I don't know what is."

"Morbid, but true."

Merlin smiled to himself, it was nice to still be able to banter with him. It hurt though, he wondered if he could ever get him to remember again. They'd been through a lot together. He wondered how he would he view his father now, without bias? Did he still retain his feelings for Gwen?

The manservant's reverie was punctured as he felt the ground rumble slightly beneath him, horses charging forward and men crying at the top of their lungs. Dirtied faces all around him were twisted in anger and pain, his mind trying to filter everything out as he followed the fleck of blonde hair in front of him, war a horrendous blur as he prised the sword off a dying man.

By the time he looked up, Arthur was lost in a sea of bloodied faces and bodies.

0*0*0*0*0

Arthur's body screamed for him to stop, every muscle groaning as they flexed and tensed in pain- his teeth gritted and his lip bloody. His sword had become an extension of him, swinging violently from left to right as he drove himself forward, never stopping long enough to hear the cries of those he'd just killed.

Cenred's men were overwhelming them, he was seeing red cloaked men fall wherever he looked amongst the flames and rubble. His matted blonde hair was stuck to his forehead, his icy blue eyes searching the crowd of thousands of men for his manservant, his heart thudding in his ears when he could not see the mop of dark hair that had moments ago been behind him.

Arthur froze when he saw him, the dark haired boy scrambling up onto a pile of rocks, dropping his sword as Cenred's men were starting to surround him. He was completely unarmed and exposed.

The prince felt something deep shift inside him, his stomach turn into stone, yelling his manservant's name as he battled his way towards the younger man. No. . . no. . .

Arthur knew wasn't going to make it to him in time as he saw the knights scrabble towards Merlin. The prince felt unexpected tears burn the back of his eyes, the sounds of battle around him muted, everything around him slowing down as he watched in helplessness. He could feel the old Arthur deep within him crying out to keep his best friend alive, and he was about to lose him.

"MERLINNN!"

He suddenly felt himself being pushed forcefully to the side, reality bursting through as his stomach suddenly seared with pain. He groaned as he clutched his hand to his wound, the man who had just struck him already fighting another man, the prince's chainmail spilling red as he tried to drag himself closer to Merlin.

Suddenly, Arthur felt a painful moan rise into his throat, Merlin slowly turning and somehow finding his eyes from where he was standing. His eyes were sparkling, despairing- blue met blue, sky met sea; they were the infinite horizon. Arthur heard his voice in his head, the entire world shifting on its axis. Merlin's eyes sadder than he'd ever seen them: I'm sorry, Arthur.

Arthur shook his head wearily, thinking he was hearing things as his eyes flickered, his vision blurring as he forced himself to keep his eyes open as he watched everything unfold in front of him, his heart slowing, digging his fingers into the blood-soaked soil as he tried to drag himself closer.

He watched as Merlin stood completely still, his palms open by his side and head bowed. Arthur felt the wind screech as it surged towards Merlin, the raven haired boy steadily lifting his face. Unbidden fear rose within him, his mouth was bone dry; Arthur couldn't breathe.

He could do nothing but watch Merlin, his pain shrinking into insignificance as his manservant's eyes shone a brilliant light, Merlin enveloping himself in gold and blue flames and moulding them with his hands as he destroyed Cenred's army with a sweep of his hand, the boom of the fire burning his ears as Merlin stood in the middle of it all.

Merlin didn't look real, the elements colliding around him as hundreds of men were wiped to the floor, the boy's eyes shining such an intense gold it was almost white. Merlin's head fell back as he let a terrific, unearthly roar rip from his chest. The roar was returned; a shadow of a dragon suddenly appearing against the silvery moon. Chaos descended with the beast, men trampled in the bid to escape and crying out in agony as their fire destroyed the remainder of Cenred's men.

It ended as quickly as it came, the surviving knights of Camelot looking upon the boy on the rockery in shock and fear. The wind had died, and an eerie silence like a heavy blanket had been laid over them. The raven haired figure breathed heavily for a couple of seconds, the dragon quietly landing next to him- a low, contented growl rising from its lungs- bowing their heads to one another in mutual respect. They stood side by side, an image of absolute power amongst the site of destruction; dead bodies, broken weapons and burnt grass.

Arthur felt a dribble of warmth from his mouth, his lungs bucking as he struggled to breathe. He let his head drop against the dry grass as he heard Merlin call his name, knights moving out of the way as if he were using his magic to part them. None of them said a word as Merlin dropped on his knees beside the prince, gently turning him over and holding back a gasp as the prince's body started to shake with uneven breaths.

Arthur saw the dark haired boy's face swimming into view, he could see the desperation on his face; his voice seemed distant. He knew this wasn't good.

"Arthur! Arthur listen to me! You're going to be fine. . . stay with me you prat. . ."

The prince's eyes never left Merlin's- unwavering, unblinking and glassy as the younger boy pried his hand away from the wound just below his ribs, he grabbed hold of his manservant's jacket in pain, sitting up slightly, words barely passing through his teeth.

"You never told him did you. . . about your magic. . ."

Merlin swallowed guiltily, tears pricking behind his eyes. He told him that they'd trusted each other completely. . . and it was almost true.

"I just. . . couldn't. . ." he barely whispered, before clearing his throat, "I need you to lie still-"

"He wouldn't have cared. . . I know it. . . I can feel it. . ."

The raven haired boy looked stunned, a tear balancing in the corner of his eye as he gently pushed Arthur back down; he could still feel that aching panic inside of him.

Merlin laid his hand gently on Arthur's side, uttering some words under his breath as the knights looked on in fright and awe. Merlin felt the tingling sensation running into his fingertips and into Arthur as the Prince's eyes flickered in a final surge of pain, the younger man wincing as he watched Arthur's skin crawl together beneath his chainmail. He was not fully healed, but he would not die today.

After several seconds, the Prince took a heaving breath and Merlin let out one he didn't even realise he was holding. He laughed to himself, looking up as Sir Leon just a few feet away from him started to clap, grinning with slight tears in his eyes. Suddenly another stepped forward and joined in, and another until all that could be heard was the applause of Uther's men.

Merlin felt a wave of pride rise in his chest; the acceptance of his true self like nothing he'd ever felt before. The knights approached him one by one, shaking his hand, thanking him, some even hugging him for saving their lives when the icy hand of death had nearly touched them on the shoulder.

Merlin's smile slipped of his face as he watched several knights carry a sleeping Arthur back to the castle. His heart plummeted as he realised he still had Arthur's reaction to come, and even though he knew he should trust the prince with his very soul, fear still held him by the throat; he was scared.

A/N: Hope you liked the latest chapter and tune in next time! :)