On time this week :) Thank you so much once again for the fantastic support!

"I won't do it, you can't make me." It had been months since Merlin had sounded that bold in front of Jarta, but he knew that it was potentially the only way that he could make the man listen. It had been almost a week since Merlin had first been told of the plan, and this was the first chance that he had had in order to be able to speak to his master.

The plan had been put into action almost immediately after scouts had returned the very next morning with news that the city was abuzz with the talk of the journey. It was rare for both the King and the Prince to leave Camelot at the same time, meaning everyone was talking about it. It was almost too easy to obtain information about the route that the party would be travelling along and how many men they would have with them. Merlin knew why though. Even with his very limited knowledge of a fight, it would be almost suicidal to take on those odds. Unless, of course, you had magic.

Ever since the news had come, the camp had been a flurry of activity. Merlin had been working almost around the clock as they had packed up and moved to higher ground, somewhere where they were sure that no one would be able to find them. As much as he tried to tell himself that it was for the groups own protection, Merlin knew that it was really because they were looking for a hide out where they could hold the prince hostage without anyone finding them. Not only had the young warlock been involved in the physical side of moving the camp, Jarta had also been putting his magic to use with making sure that their tracks were covered. As it had now been months since Merlin's magic had been enslaved to the man, Jarta didn't need to be next to Merlin in order to work his power

The only other time that Merlin had been anywhere near Jarta was when he had been allowed to sleep in the man's tent again. It depended on how well he behaved as to whether he was allowed that protection from the elements, but Jarta seemed to be uncomfortable with making him sleep outside with all of the other bandits roaming around, especially as they knew precisely what he was capable of. Merlin's magic might be under strict orders to protect its host, orders that it couldn't disobey even if Merlin wanted it to. But he was still a thirteen year old boy living with people who had been killing since they were younger than him. It seemed to be an almost unspoken understanding between him and his master – if they wanted Merlin dead, they would succeed, meaning that the bandit himself was forced to offer the boy some protection. Merlin wasn't going to complain, it meant that he had somewhere warm.

He had meant to say something that very first night, but exhaustion was too prominent and he had fallen asleep before Jarta had even retired. The same pattern followed for a couple of days, but when he finally managed to stay awake for long enough to pluck up the courage to do something, he still hadn't had the opportunity. Jarta had ordered Petra to the tent as well, and Merlin had simply pulled the blanket over his head and clapped his hands over his ears as he tried to drown out the sound of what was going on behind him. The next morning, he had been blushing far too much to make a noise that could even resemble a word as he served them breakfast, let alone put his case across.

But now, he had managed to catch Jarta on his own as dusk began to draw in, and knew that whilst the man might just send him away, he had to do something. He couldn't let himself be used like this, not when the stakes were so much higher than just a wealthy merchant losing a few coins on the road. What Merlin did know, however, was that he couldn't let Jarta know that it was because he considered Arthur to be a friend, even if the prince didn't remember him. He just knew that if Jarta found out he had a past with Arthur, he would exploit that and use it to his advantage.

"I think you are missing the point when you admit that I can and I will make you." The bandit responded coolly, glancing over at his slave from where he was using the river to wash away some of the grime. Merlin just stood to one side, his hands twiddling nervously together behind his back as he tried to hide how worried he was about going against his master like this. All it took was a thought on Jarta's behalf, and Merlin was helpless.

"It's dangerous! We'll never get away with it, Uther will have me killed and if you somehow escape, you won't have anyone to pick pockets for you again." Merlin knew that he was sounding desperate and young, but if he was honest, that was how he was feeling. He would have never have guessed before that he was able to feel like this and it made him realise just how hard his mother had tried to keep him protected.

"Don't you worry, everything is under control."

"How? You won't even tell me what this plan is, or what role I'm supposed to play in it."

"Then what makes you think that you aren't just going to stay here and have the supper ready for when we get back?" There was a warning note in Jarta's voice now, something that told Merlin his master was not happy about the way that this conversation was going. Involuntary, the warlock took a step backwards, making sure that he was out of arm's reach. He did, however, shake his head.

"You've had me stealing from people for months, you won't be leaving me here." He stated, trying to make himself sound older than he was feeling. Jarta grinned, washing his face one final time and stepping away from the river, ruffling Merlin's hair as he did so.

"Smart lad. You'll find out your part soon enough."

"I told you, I won't do it!" Merlin knew that raising his voice wasn't going to get him anywhere, but he couldn't help it. He had to make his point. He was so adamant that he wouldn't help them catch Arthur that he didn't think about what he was doing, but reached out and grabbed Jarta's arm. The man turned almost smoothly, and before Merlin could truly process what was happening, he was stumbling backwards with blood trickling from his lip from where his master had slapped him. Jarta looked at him steadily for a long moment, and Merlin was sure that his own magic was going to be used against him again. But the man didn't do anything.

"Very well."

"What?" Merlin made sure that he stayed out of reach this time, but he couldn't stop the confusion lacing his voice. He had been expecting to argue until he was blue in the face and still not be able to get anywhere. In the bandits eyes, he was nothing more than a child, a slave to be used when they wanted, what he wanted was never taken into account, no matter how much he fought. Which was why when Jarta simply shrugged, Merlin had the feeling that he was being tricked somehow.

"I need your magic focused and strong. If you are resisting like that, you're no good to me. You're coming, I don't trust you to leave you here with the way that you have been acting lately, but you can just hold the horses rather than having an active part."

"You swear?" Merlin still didn't trust that this was happening, he had spent too long around these men. But he couldn't deny that there was a glimmer of hope beginning to work its way into him in a way that he hadn't felt for months. Maybe this was the start of things changing; maybe they were beginning to listen to what it was that he wanted slightly more? After all, if Jarta truly thought that he was just going to take Merlin with him wherever he went, he must need some sort of co-operation?

"Merlin, would you honestly trust me if I did give you my word?" Jarta had begun to walk away now, a mocking note lacing his voice as he glanced back over his shoulder at his slave. Merlin shook his head, but didn't say anything else. He didn't want to push his luck, not considering he might have just got himself out of it. Yet if he had to go along as well, maybe he would be able to warn Arthur slightly, raise the alarm before any damage could be done?

Not wanting to stay out by the river on his own, the boy hurried after his master. Too many of the other men were still watching him closely. Not that Merlin was worried by them as such, with a big plan taking place, they wouldn't risk losing their share by trying to take the warlock, but he was worried that he might do something that he would regret, something that would anger Jarta and therefore make the man go back on his word.

Even so, that didn't stop Merlin skirting at the edge of the camp, not wanting to go back in. For the first time in months, he was considering running away again. Things had settled into an uncomfortable pattern of late, but now that the bandits were going back to their more violent ways as their greed dictated their actions, Merlin wanted no part of it. If he was honest, he simply wanted to go home. How long he stood on the edge of the encampment for, he had no idea, but he did jump when Petra's arm snaked around his shoulders, steering him away.

"You should eat, Merlin." She said gently, but for the first time in a long while, Merlin resisted her pull. Jarta had been watching him just before she had arrived, and he almost nodded in approval as the girl turned Merlin away. By craning his head back, Merlin could see that Jarta had also finally turned away and was talking in a low tone to another man, gesturing back over his shoulder towards them as he did so. Somehow, Merlin got the feeling that Petra wasn't just looking out for him this time, she was making sure that he was out of earshot. Pulling harshly away from her grip, the child stumbled back. What he hadn't been expecting was for Petra's hand to shoot out, closing around his wrist and tugging him forward again with a grip far stronger than he would have expected from someone of her slight build.

It didn't matter how much he struggled, Petra simply pulled him away, not letting go until he was sitting in front of a small fire with a bowl of stew in front of him.

"He wanted to have you tie yourself up again." Her voice was cool and reproachful, and Merlin almost choked on his mouthful.

"What?"

"You guessed right in thinking that he doesn't want you listening in. He wanted to yet again use your magic against you. I suggested that I just took you to get some food instead. He would have left you tied up all night with nothing to eat, he is too distracted at the moment." Merlin blushed when he realised what she was saying. He had been correct in thinking that Jarta was waiting for him to move, but in his anger, he had forgotten that Petra was just as much of a slave as he was. He should have known that she wouldn't do anything that would cause him harm, not after months of watching out for him. Merlin slowly took another mouthful.

"Is he really going to let me just stay on the side and watch?" He eventually murmured, placing the bowl to one side and stretching his hands out towards the warmth that the flickering flames were offering. "It's suicide going against the Knights of Camelot without magic, even I've heard the stories of them. He's lying to me, he must be…"

"Merlin…"

"I won't do it, you know. I won't hurt my friend." He didn't even realise what he had said until Petra suddenly gasped, looking around her anxiously before dropping to her knees next to the young warlock. Merlin looked at her in astonishment, but then the colour slowly drained from his face as he realised what he had just admitted to.

"He can't know! Jarta can have no idea that you have been acquainted with the prince. I'm assuming that is who you mean? He'll definitely use you against him if he finds out."

"I know." Merlin refused to acknowledge the tears in his eyes, hoping that if he pretended they weren't there, they would just go away again. "I didn't mean to say anything, Arthur probably doesn't remember me…"

That thought hurt, stinging in a way that Merlin had never truly realised before. He had always known that there was a chance that Arthur might forget him, but thinking about that now, when the prince's life was in danger, caused a dull ache in his chest. Petra's hand rubbed soothingly over his back as she calmed him again, but it meant that neither of them noticed on of the men slink silently backwards from the trees just behind them, a grin on his face as he headed back to Jarta. If the pair had seen the look on his face, there would be no doubt in their minds that he had overheard every word that had just been said.

"I have to run." Merlin muttered, already beginning to stand up and looking around him wildly. "I have to get out of here, I have to run…" Petra's hand closed around his wrist again as she tugged him back down.

"You have nowhere to go, Merlin, and you know it. If you anger him now, you'll be lucky if he doesn't kill you. Just keep your head down, be good, and maybe there will be a chance to run afterwards."

"After they have caught Arthur, you mean?" Merlin let himself be pulled back down though, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes and sighing. He knew that she was right, running had never got him anywhere before, and Jarta would be furious considering the timing. That didn't mean that he had to like it, and this time, he couldn't ignore the tears as they silently spilled over and ran miserably down his cheeks. He thought he had got used to life here, but now knew that whilst his magic was enslaved to another, he would never be able to be happy.

Petra didn't say anything, but draped an arm over his shoulders, holding him close as the boy let out all of the pent up emotions he was too scared to otherwise show. But Merlin knew what her silence meant – the only chance he was ever going to get at securing his freedom was waiting until the prince of Camelot was being held hostage.

MMM

Merlin stood holding the reigns of one of their horses, keeping his back pressed against the trunk of a nearby tree. Shouts and calls of alarm were filling the air all around him as the bandits began to attack the royal camp. Merlin had no idea what they thought they were doing, already a vast number of men had fallen as the knights proved their worth. Jarta seemed to stand by what he had said and had just left Merlin with the horses, ordering him not to move. The warlock wouldn't have been able to move even if he wanted to, fear was gripping at him and turning his legs to lead.

He had never witnessed a fight like this before. It was more than a fight, it was more like a battle. Through his gap in the trees, he could make out the knights forming tight circles around those worth protecting, and Merlin wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or not that he hadn't yet seen Arthur. At one point, he was sure he saw the lanky outline of a man that stirred a memory in the back of his mind, someone that he was sure that Arthur relied upon and looked up to, yet the name was eluding him.

Blinking, Merlin started when he realised that he was looking at the same man again. He was pulling back from the fighting, tugging at someone else. It was clear that he was using the men in front of him as some sort of shield whilst he backed away, and Merlin jumped when another figure came into his view, the knight pulling him along. He had grown up well, clearly having begun the training that he was always going on about, but even in the darkness, Merlin knew that there was no mistaking that blond hair. For the first time in years, he was looking at Arthur again. The prince had a sword in his hand and even from the distance that he was watching from, Merlin could see the furious expression on his face as the knight – Leon! The name suddenly clicked in Merlin's head – pulled him away. Merlin didn't need to be any closer to know what was going on. Leon was getting Arthur away from the danger, and the prince wasn't happy about it.

"So there is our little gold mine." The voice came directly from behind Merlin, making him jump violently and accidentally causing him to let go of the reigns. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, and felt his entire body tense in anxiety. This man was always keen to remind Merlin of his place, treating him as nothing more than a slave every time he saw the boy.

"Leave him alone." Merlin muttered, not sure what he was doing but determined that he was going to do something in order to help Arthur get away. Leon looked like he knew what he was doing, all Merlin needed to do was give them a few more moments and Arthur would be safe.

"Of course, he's a friend of yours, isn't he?" Merlin froze, his heart beating uncomfortably hard as he slowly turned to face the man, swallowing hard. There was a sneer on the man's face, and Merlin knew in that one moment that somehow, they all knew that he had a past with Arthur. He couldn't even think of how right now, he just knew that he had to do something to warn the prince. Taking a few stumbling steps backwards, the thirteen year old tried to get away from the man and towards where he had seen Arthur making his escape. A few branches snapped loudly as he tried to push past them, but Merlin didn't notice. He also didn't realise, however, that the noise drew Arthur's attention, his keen ears picking up the noise above all the fighting. He had turned to see what was going on, his eyes widening as he realised that there was a child stumbling towards him in the middle of the fight.

Merlin didn't notice, however. He only realised that the man was approaching him, drawing a knife as he did so. For a wild moment, he looked around for Jarta, wondering if his master was going to do something, but the bandit was nowhere to be seen. Tripping over his own feet, Merlin proceeded to scramble backwards along the floor, shaking his head.

"Leave me alone…" He practically begged, knowing that he was getting closer to the fighting and therefore running out of places to go.

"I'm going to make you pay, Merlin!" Said warlock had no idea why the man had suddenly shouted his words, he was too busy by the foot driving into his stomach. Gasping, he curled around himself, tears of pain and surprise running down his face.

"Stop it!" The man didn't answer this time, but simply smiled. He bent down, grabbing Merlin by the collar and hoisting him slightly into the air, bringing the knife to rest against his throat.

"Now why would I want to do that?" Merlin couldn't help but whimper slightly as the man shook him, his teeth rattling together even as he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor. "It's not as if anyone would want to protect you out here."

Merlin could do nothing but watch as the knife came racing down towards him, his mind going completely blank. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting the bandit's face to be the last thing that he saw, but found that he was tentatively opening them again when there came a sickening thud and the sound of something falling. He glanced up, only to find that there was empty space where the bandit had been and a body lying almost next to his leg. Screaming, Merlin backed away, his back hitting a tree.

"Merlin?"

"No! No, leave me alone!" He yelled, trying to curl up smaller again and therefore not realising who it was in front of him until a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. The only one who had offered him any comfort over the last six months was Petra, but she was back in the camp, there was no way that this was her hand. Slowly, Merlin looked up.

"Arthur?"

"That is you, isn't it, Merlin?" Numbly, the warlock could only nod, staring up at the fifteen year old crouched over him, a bloody sword in the prince's hand.

"You've grown."

"So have you." Merlin didn't know what else he was supposed to say. How long had he hoped that Arthur would remember him, that they would be able to go back to the way they were all those years ago when they had had those few days together? Instead, they were in a middle of a fight, a fight caused by Jarta's desire to…

"Run!" Merlin hissed, shoving at Arthur's hand and trying to get the older boy to move away from him. "You have to run, they've come for you!"

"How do you know that? Come on, I can't just leave you here." Arthur reached down a hand, pulling Merlin to his feet with ease. If his mind wasn't so terrified, Merlin might have been slightly annoyed by the fact that Arthur was at least two growth spurts ahead of him right now, but instead, he found himself looking around. Something was pulling on his magic, and he knew that the only person with the power to do that was Jarta. Arthur was talking again, trying to tell Merlin something about where they could run to, but the younger boy wasn't listening. Instead, he had just locked eyes with his master through the trees.

All Jarta had to do was smile and it was as if everything had clicked in Merlin's mind regarding what was going on. The realisation was so powerful that he stumbled back from Arthur, hitting the tree once more. It had all been a set up. Jarta had never intended to leave Merlin out of the abduction, he had just made it so that the boy believed he was. He had found out that Arthur knew Merlin, waited until the prince had the boy in his sights and then had Merlin attacked. Arthur had not only moved away from his protection in order to come to the younger boy's aid, he had put himself right next to the one person that had the power to actually take him down without being on the receiving end of a sword. Merlin shook his head, his eyes pleading with Jarta not to do this, but the man merely smirked.

"Run!" He screamed at Arthur, making to turn, but Jarta seized control of his magic at that moment. Merlin was thrown to his knees, the image of a bound and helpless Arthur swimming before his mind's eye. He could feel the power building, wanting to respond to what Jarta desired, but Merlin bit his lip, trying to force himself to concentrate.

"What is it, what is wrong?"

"Go." Merlin grunted, vaguely aware that Arthur had dropped to his knees beside him again. Why wasn't he listening, why wasn't he getting as far away as possible from the person that was about to ruin his life? Merlin knew that he wouldn't be able to hold onto the magic for much longer, Jarta was clearly growing angry, he could feel it.

"It's…trap, it's a trap…I'm…bait…go…" He gasped, doing everything that he could in order to make sure that the bandit didn't get his own way. For a moment, he thought he might have actually managed it as he felt the magic settle down again slightly. But then it came back tenfold and Merlin's head shot up, his eyes blazing.

Arthur gasped, almost falling over his own feet as he tried to back away from the warlock.

"You have magic!" Merlin didn't answer; however, he was too busy having a silent battle with himself. A battle that, as nothing more than a child, he was losing. Jarta had firm control over his power, and everything that the bandit had ever dreamed was in his grasp now. Or rather, in Merlin's grasp, and Arthur didn't even make it a few steps before long winding vines seemed to spring out from the ground, tripping him and tying him down.

"No…no, stop it!" Merlin screamed, part of his mind knowing what was happening, but the majority just having to submit to Jarta's control even as the man walked slowly over. Arthur almost managed to pull himself free, his own eyes almost as fiery as Merlin's with emotion, but then more vines erupted from below him, slamming him back down as they bound him tightly.

"Well done, Merlin." Jarta had reached them now, eyeing Arthur in satisfaction as the prince's struggles were rendered useless against the force of Merlin's magic. He reached out a hand, combing it through Merlin's hair in an almost fatherly fashion, and Arthur glared.

"You? You're working with them, you planned this?!" Merlin could only shake his head, desperately trying to claw the magic back under his control. But just like every other time he had tried it over the last six months, Jarta's hold over him was too strong. The bandit laughed softly, removing his hand from Merlin and crouching down in front of Arthur.

"To catch a prince, all one needs is a slave." He murmured mockingly, pulling a rag out from his pocket. A small bottle was drawn out from the other pocket, and Merlin didn't need to ask to know that it was a mild sedative that was being poured over the cloth. Jarta didn't seem to be paying attention to the fact that they were standing on the outskirts of a ferocious battle as he slowly and carefully tied the rag around Arthur's mouth. Initially, it just silenced the prince, but even Merlin could see through his tears that the drug was beginning to take hold. Jarta backed away, watching closely as Arthur suddenly slumped, his eyes flickering. Jarta gestured to a couple of his men who had been hiding in the trees behind them and they hurried forward without a word. Merlin could only watch as they hoisted Arthur's bound form into the air and sped away. One shrill whistle echoed throughout the camp, and all of the bandits took that as their signal to retreat.

"You didn't really think that I was going to just let you sit and watch, did you?" Now that the prize had been secured, Jarta turned his attention back to Merlin. The boy just glared up at him, aware of just how young he must look with tears running down his face. But as he glanced towards where Arthur had disappeared, a sense of fury overcame him and he sprang forward. Jarta might have been planning to hold Arthur hostage, but that was effectively what he had been doing with Merlin all of this time.

"And...sleep." Jarta whispered, and Merlin could only whimper as his magic turned back on him. He crashed down into the ground, his limbs feeling lethargic and no longer wanting to respond to him. He was vaguely aware of Jarta crouching down next to him, leaning over him as he did so.

"You lied to me about knowing our prince, Merlin. Don't think that I'm going to let that go unpunished." With the final threat ringing in his ears, Merlin felt the blackness claim him as his magic yet again reacted to Jarta's will and sent him into a deep sleep. He didn't feel his master throwing him first over his shoulder, then over the back of his horse as they too made their escape. He didn't hear the shout of alarm go up from the camp they were fleeing from as the men realised that their prince was nowhere to be found.

Instead, he only saw the tricks that his mind was playing on him as he began to dream. His vision was filled with Arthur's accusing glare and the shouts from the battle in his mind, leaving him with no escape from what had just happened even whilst asleep. His eyes rolling behind closed lids and his breathing picking up in fright, Merlin had no idea when they reached the camp and he was shoved down from the horse, allowed to simply drop to the floor. He didn't feel Petra immediately drop to his side, her gentle hands checking for wounds.

But somehow, some part of his consciousness did seem to realise that the barely conscious Arthur was watching him closely as the men set about securing the prince.