Sorry for the wait, but I like to pretend I have a life and that it keeps me occupied in amusing ways.

Instead I have school to deal with. Bah.

Another shamelessly short update after a shamelessly long wait. I'm sorry. I really am. I love each and every one of you people who bother to read my fic. I'm also working on finding out where all my reviewers live so that I can send you all flowers and (if you were really nice) personally kiss you. I love you all. I'm just too lazy to write what gets me your attention in the first place.

Anyway, this chapter was horribly clunky in it's development, which explains the wait. I really kind of hated trying to work out how I wanted the actual reveal to go. All in all, it was awkward and slow and remains slightly unsatisfying. I don't know, how does it sound to you guys? The next chapter will probably be the same (Slow).

Grr. Oh well. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: VoiceofSociety does not equate to BBC.

Merlin could not help but trip.

Of course, he'd been clumsy all his life. Falling over in the woods would be one of his least remarkable accomplishments in this field. Besides, he wasn't normally this dizzy.

With much annoyance, he crashed into a tree. Overall, it wasn't inconceivable that he trip in the woods with a spinning head, but now just wasn't the time to be falling around: he still had to make sure that Arthur was safe, and he still had no guarantee that the rebels wouldn't return. He had also seen Sir Gauret, a man with quite a temper, making his way towards him. He had never gotten along with the knight, and the fact that he still held his sword was unnerving to say the least. Heaven knows how he'd be able to have a proper argument with his head running so slowly anyway. Merlin noted that he probably ought to get more sleep.

He felt a warm drop on his hand.

Bringing it to his face, he was surprised to see a bright red droplet running down his knuckles. On further inspection, he realized that his nose was bleeding. Worried about his clothes, the servant looked down to his tunic, only then realizing that he had been hit. An arrow was neatly lodged just below his ribcage on the left, and his blue shirt was becoming quite discolored.

"That's... going to… st…" he faltered, his vision swimming "…stain…A-Arthur?"

He looked up, knowing he ought to call louder. Arthur was probably busy right now. He probably wouldn't hear him. He never did listen. He'd have to call out a couple of times at least.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to call out.

Sir Gauret had reached him, and was now holding a sword at his throat.

"Sorcerer" he hissed.

Merlin couldn't help but be annoyed. Nobility. They really never listen, do they?

*

Arthur, for his part, was in an equally useless state of confusion.

He had scanned the tree line (what he could see of it), and had come to the conclusion that all of the assailants had run off somewhere. That was nice: even though he'd have to pursue them again later, at least he might be able to avoid another ambush. Sir Gauret had run off behind him, with Lavain and Sir Arrok following closely behind him. They were probably regaining the higher ground through the exit Merlin had been making. As a knight and a trained fighter, it probably would have been wise for him to do the same, thus removing himself from his disadvantageous position.

But all that was irrelevant right now. As important as these facts would usually be to him, his mind was otherwise preoccupied with why it was all happening.

It was magic. There couldn't be another explanation. The oncoming arrows had all been blown away like birds in a storm, with the attackers faring no better. In his time, Arthur had seen what he thought to be a somewhat (un)healthy amount of magic, but rarely had he seen anything like this. For one, it wasn't nearly as subtle or refined as the types of spells he was used to: this was an act of sheer desperation. Powerful? Maybe. Effective? Certainly. Odd? No. This was beyond odd. This was baffling.

What magical being would be so keen and so desperate to protect the son of Uther Pendragon as to throw caution to the wind and reveal themselves in such a way? And, this being beyond baffling, why?

He knelt down to examine a fallen arrow.

No, the whole event was downright strange. Not only had the attack been deflected, but it had also quite effectively cleared off the assailants. Who was capable of such a task?

"Arthur?"

The prince turned towards the call.

"Arthur!!"

It was Sir Arrok, and it sounded urgent. He dropped the arrow and ran.

*

"Please!" groaned Merlin, his vision blurring dangerously. He needed Gaius, and soon. "I don't know… what…"

"Do not play games with me, Servant!" growled Sir Gauret, "That was sorcery! I saw you as those arrows flew!"

"You were the only one outside of the pit" Lavain said suspiciously. He had his sword drawn too now, but he did not appear nearly as firm in his accusations as Gauret. "I cannot deny that it was sorcery, and if it had been one of us in the pit, then surely we would have seen."

"He's injured! Sorcerer or no, there's nothing he can do right now. We need the Prince." reasoned Arrok. "Arthur? Athur!"

The whole situation had become volatile. Merlin was leaning with his back to a tree, trying desperately to stop his bleeding wound and hovering on the edge of consciousness. Guaret had his sword at the servant's throat and Lavain was standing right behind him. Arrok was only a couple paces away, calling for the highest authority present.

"I don't believe that for a second. You can never let your guard down with a sorcerer." Guaret's eyes never left Merlin. "Although, I suppose this one can't be much good, seeing the state he's landed himself in"

His eyes fell on the arrow.

"You're wrong" pleaded Merlin. The shock was starting to wear off for good and true now, and he found himself grasping for control of his senses. His breathing was becoming shallow and, as the pain from his wound was becoming sharper, his mind was going numb.

"Lies of a soulless conjurer! Born without shame, I'd wager."

He twisted the arrow in his captive's side with a nasty jerk.

Far away, someone was yelling, but that didn't matter quite yet.

What happened next was unavoidable: Injured, barely conscious and under attack, Merlin's magic surged to his defense. With a roar of outrage and agony, the warlock blasted his attacker ten feet away, collapsing on to his knees. This type of magic was a reflex for him of the most instinctual kind, and took very little energy most of the time. These were not normal circumstances.

Merlin looked up at the newly returned Sir Arrok, cringing at the fear in his eyes. His eyes then fell to the man beside him.

Damned be the arrow, he was sure that his heart had just stopped.

Arthur was staring, rooted to the spot, completely at a loss.

This was bad. Merlin's mind could only register one thing. Whether from the arrow in his side or from the coming accusations, the outcome was clear: He was going to die. He need to talk to Arthur before that happened. He needed to explain things. He had to warn him about the threats that he did not see.

"Arthur…" he started weakly. Before he could finish, he a twig crack behind him.

And then he was sure he had died.

*

Arthur could only watch as Lavain crept up behind his servant. He didn't so much as flinch when he brought down the pommel of his sword and knocked his friend into oblivion. He did not offer to help the stunned Gauret regain his footing.

He did not feel betrayal, or hurt, or anger. His mind did not reel with revelation and dismay.

His only response to the entire situation was a bewildered "Wha?"

Maybe it was the shock of it all. He felt like he had just been confronted with someone shrieking in a foreign language. It was like his childhood tutor teaching him how to do additions. Merlin plus magic equals what? It made no sense. He was almost annoyed at how ridiculously illogical it all was.

"Sire, what do we do with him now?"

Finally, he snapped out of his trance.

"We kill the rat before he can do any more damage!" Sir Gauret advanced on the fallen boy, sword drawn.

He raised his sword-

And was blocked by the crowned prince.

"Sire! He is a dangerous criminal and a threat to the kingdom! We must do away with him now while he cannot fight back!" Protested the knight.

"Tell me, Sir Gauret," Arthur shot back dangerously "since when did the Knights of Camelot resort to such cowardly means to handle their adversaries? How long have my knights been creeping up behind an injured suspect to beat him unconscious? Where in our code are we permitted to slaughter the wounded and unarmed while they cannot so much as speak?" With every other sensible thought currently inaccessible, the prince was falling back on his most basic form of reasoning: Protocol.

Sir Gauret remained firm.

"We can't allow that fiend to escape! You saw his eyes as well as I did. That was sorcery!"

"I don't yet know what I saw" spat Arthur, "all I know is that the rebels are gone and may return with reinforcements at any moment. We have a man injured, and I need to report this ambush to my father. What he need to do now is return to Camelot and bring my servant to Gaius."

"You're mad!"

"I AM NOT DONE YET!" roared the prince.

"We will take him to Gaius and see to it that he survives to attend his trial, should you wish to bring your accusations to the king. Until that time, he will be kept under my personal surveillance and protection to insure that he does not attempt to escape or cause any more damage. So for now, you will sheath your sword and you will return with Lavain, Arrok, myself AND Merlin to Camelot."

"And what if the boy wakes up along the way?" objected Sir Lavain.

"In his state, I doubt he will be capable of doing any of us any serious harm, let alone run away. I will carry him on my horse with me if it eases your worries."

The knights begrudgingly accepted their orders and left the prince to shoulder his servant's burden unmolested. For Arthur's part, the gears of his mind were finally lurching into motion. With a grim air about them, all five made their way back to Camelot.

So?

I tried to even out the four reactions: Gauret was violent, accusatory and generally Uther-ish; Lavain was practical and acted with reasonable suspicion; Arrok was a little confused, while not entirely opposed to Merlin; and Arthur pulled a Herois BSOD (points to whoever catches that reference).

Okay, so I lied about stalking my reviewers, but I'm sure you'll forgive me and still have the everlasting generosity to tell me what you thought, right? If nothing else, you'll boost my self -esteem and make me spend more time developing my fic, which may or may not lead to faster updates (unlikely).

Until next time~