"Are you alright?" Arther asked, watching Merlin's shoulders droop and his face pale.

"I'm fine."

Arthur groaned. He hated that word, 'fine.' Well, not the word so much. He hated when it came out of Merlin's mouth, because it almost always meant that he was struggling and refused to share that struggle with Arthur. Merlin let his head drop again once he thought Arthur wasn't looking, and the king frowned. It was really hurting the boy. Arthur shouldn't have let him come, but there was just something... he couldn't go without Merlin. Merlin kept him stable, helped him keep his emotions in check and his thoughts clear.

Mostly clear. Except when he was wondering how the boy was even managing to stay on his horse. "Merlin, let's take a break, get some lunch going." Arthur's voice seemed to pull Merlin from a daze. He looked up, gave Arthur a half smile, and asked,

"What, can't keep going?"

"If I say we're stopping, Merlin, that's all you need to know. Gather some firewood." Arthur dismounted quickly, trying to inconspicuously stand close to Merlin's horse as the boy did the same. He almost fell, but he caught himself just in time. Arthur sighed inwardly. If he thought Merlin would make it, he'd send the kid back on his own. However, he was sure Merlin would find some kind of trouble before he even got halfway back to Camelot, and then Arthur would...

He wouldn't send Merlin back. He'd find a way to keep the boy safe.

"You know what?" Arthur said, realizing having the boy run around picking up sticks probably wasn't the best idea. "Start pulling stuff out of the packs. I'll get the firewood. I need a stretch."

The thankful look on Merlin's face made it clear neither of them were fooled, but Arthur didn't care. He stalked off to the nearby forest and began looking for decent firewood, something he hadn't had to do in... well, a very long time. He didn't understand why Merlin complained so much about it, all he had to do was find sticks. No one asked him to carry logs or cut down trees or anything that would actually be difficult.

He brought his bundle back, feeling as though he might not mind gathering firewood again, to find Merlin laying on the ground. He didn't realize he'd dropped all of his precious wood as he raced to the boy, dropping to his knees and putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder. He was about to check for a pulse when Merlin snored. Loudly.

Arthur rolled his eyes, unable to show his relief even with no one to witness it. The idiot, he'd exhausted himself, and they'd only gone half a day. But he needed rest. So Arthur went back to his pile of wood, picked it up again, and returned to making a fire.

Merlin woke when their meal was almost finished. He pushed himself up, grimacing but attempting to smooth his face and hide it. Arthur let him think he'd succeeded as he began dishing up their meal, handing a bowl to Merlin before serving himself.

Arthur ate quickly, hungrier than he'd realized. Merlin picked at the food, eating a bite for every five minutes of swirling it around.

"So..." Arthur asked as he set his bowl down. They wouldn't leave until Merlin had eaten enough. But Arthur would go crazy if he had to sit and wait, quietly. "That sorcerer..."

Arthur wasn't sure, but it seemed as though Merlin tensed at the mention. He frowned, then assumed it was residual shock. Or fear, perhaps. Maybe Merlin had been a victim of the sorcerer that had apparently hidden himself in Camelot. That made the king angry, and he felt his fists clench automatically.

"I... what about him?" Merlin asked, staring at his bowl. He took another small bite.

"You've no idea who it could be?"

"Uh... no. I didn't know..."

He was lying. It was so clear that Merlin was lying, he'd never been good at it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. 'Course."

Arthur looked at the ground. Merlin was afraid. The sorcerer probably threatened him. That was probably why they'd gone after Merlin in the first place, he realized suddenly. He knew who the sorcerer was, and they wanted... but why would they want the information, if they already knew a sorcerer existed in Camelot? And why wouldn't Merlin just tell them?

Unless Merlin was friends with the magic user.

Arthur threw that thought away immediately. Merlin had proven over and over that magic wasn't his friend, if by no other means than getting beat up by it again and again. Arthur could only assume the sorcerer had entered his kingdom seeking to hide, and Merlin had found out. But when Merlin threatened to reveal him to the king, Merlin's life had been threatened.

It could have been the sorcerer that stabbed Merlin in the first place, to keep him quiet. He could have tried to kill Merlin because he knew they'd be looking for him. The thought made Arthur sick.

But no, Sir Perth had been the one, according to Gwaine. And Arthur couldn't believe Gwaine would lie about something as serious as that, because he'd want justice done just as much as Arthur. Unless Perth had been framed.

Then why had Perth been killed? And why had he refused to say anything? Clearly he wasn't the sorcerer they were looking for, and Arthur couldn't believe a man as boring as Perth had magic, besides.

Arthur mulled over these thoughts for much too long, and Merlin had to jolt him from his thoughts by beginning to clean and repack everything. He was shaky, but determined, so Arthur silently rose and helped him. It wasn't long before they were ready to set out again, and Arthur watched as Merlin struggled to mount his horse. He wanted to help, but he knew Merlin wouldn't be happy about it. There was a lot of pride in his manservant, even if it was hard to take him seriously most of the time.

The ride was uncharacteristically quiet, and Arthur, though he usually complained, missed the idle, pointless chatter that Merlin was so fond of. He even missed being called names, although he had to admit that he grew bored of the same old names every single trip. Still, especially without the knights to add to the noise, it was eerily silent, only the occasional snorts from the horses causing a break.

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

Arthur paused. He didn't really have anything in mind. He just needed to hear Merlin say something, to be sure that he was fine. Silence was always a cause for worry with his friend.

"Did you forget?"

"No, of course I didn't forget." Arthur spat, pleased that Merlin at least retained some of his snark. "I was surprised Gwaine didn't try to stop us leaving."

Merlin didn't say anything for a moment. "Yeah. It's unlike him."

"I assumed he would-"

"You should have taken him instead." Merlin didn't look up when Arthur whipped his head around to stare. The boy's head hung low, watching the ground as his horse trotted forward.

"What did you just say?"

"He could be more help to you."

"Merlin, don't even start. You already know-"

"Gwaine's a knight now, but he wasn't always. He could have blended just fine. He'd attract a lot less attention than you, you know it."

"You've never let me go anywhere without you in the past, Merlin. You can't be serious."

"He could help you, is all."

Something was wrong, but Arthur had never been intuitive enough to understand the slight hints Merlin gave through body language. He stared for a good long while, watching Merlin avoid his stare, feeling anger swell beneath the surface of his skin as he could only guess at the reasons that made Merlin seem so different on this trip.

There was nothing else to say. Not right then. Arthur finally turned around, pushing his horse a little faster and assuming Merlin would do the same. He seethed silently as they continued toward the enemy encampment. It had only taken his knights a day and a half to reach it, but Arthur knew they would get there later. It made him nervous, wondering what was happening to both his wife and back in Camelot. He'd been so intent on finding Gwen, getting her home safely and in one piece, that he'd hardly taken precautions against the sorcerer hiding in his home. He'd put Leon in charge, asked him to do whatever it took to find this man and deal with him appropriately, but if the army attacked... Arthur took a deep breath. Leon had been fighting longer than Arthur, he knew how to deal with battles. Camelot would be fine. They'd find Gwen, bring her home, and everything would be fine. He repeated those words to himself as they rode.

He didn't want to stop for the night, but when Merlin fell from his horse, Arthur decided that was enough. After checking his friend to make sure he was fine, Arthur laid him on a bedroll and began pulling out dried meat and bread. He didn't want a fire, not now when they were nearing the enemy camp, so they would have a cold meal tonight. If Merlin woke up, which was seeming unlikely as the boy snored lightly. He could eat in the morning, otherwise. It wasn't as if their meal would go bad before then.

Arthur ate in silence, watching Merlin sleep and feeling ever sense prickling as he expected an attack. He wasn't sure why he was so worked up: they still had a good day's ride before they reached the enemy camp, but something about this place felt... wrong. It was too quiet, he supposed, and it felt weird to be the only one awake this early in the night.

Arthur finished eating and began removing his armor, one piece at a time. It was difficult on his own, because of the various straps and buckles in hard to reach places, but he managed it eventually. The bedroll felt comfortable after a day on horseback, and while he intended to stay awake, he found his eyes slipping closed. Even though his instincts screamed that he needed to stay awake, keep watch over the camp, his brain slowly grew foggy and his eyes slowly closed until he fell deeply under.

In his dreams, they were ambushed. They didn't stand a chance against the men that appeared on all sides of their camp, and Arthur couldn't stop them taking both himself and Merlin away in ropes. He felt entirely helpless, completely unable to do anything to stop them and protect Merlin.

He woke groggily, and it was very difficult for him to open his eyes. He thought long and hard about just rolling over and going back to sleep, but that thought disappeared when he heard a sharp cry. His eyes flew open and he reached for a sword that wasn't there.

"Oy, king. Settle down." Arthur's eyes shot to the source of the voice, looking at a large man with a thick black beard and dull green eyes. He held Merlin up by the rope on his hands, but the boy seemed unable to support his own weight and was simply hanging, grimacing.

Arthur completely ignored the order and stood, glancing for a weapon. When Merlin cried out again, he flinched and looked at where Merlin hung. One of the other men, this one with bright red hair and a scarred face, was pressing mercilessly against the stab wound. Arthur put his hands up and fell to his knees, watching Merlin's face get paler as the pain became too much.

"Alright, just don't hurt him." He said quietly. "He hasn't done anything to you."

"He's runnin' around with you, he's done somethin' to us." Redhead's logic was absolutely flawless. Nevertheless, Arthur kept his mouth shut, watching as they dropped Merlin to the ground, where he curled up on himself and shuddered. Arthur wanted to go to him, to make sure he was alright and protect him from any further injury, but he knew that would only result in further hurt for his friend. So he sat still as one man crept toward him with a bundle of rope. He struggled for only a second when he went to tie the king, but one cry from Merlin had him doing exactly as they demanded, although he was fuming the entire time. He had been an idiot to go to sleep. He'd known something wasn't right, and it was all his fault that this was happening. Guilt wasn't the emotion that clouded his vision, however: anger made him see red and made his heart thud against his rib cage.

Arthur was hauled to his feet by the ropes behind his back, and those were attached to their horses. Merlin dropped like a stone when they hauled him over to the horse, and after a moment's hushed conversation they hauled him up and tossed him over the saddle. Merlin grimaced as he landed hard on his side.

They took only a few more minutes to finish destroying their camp, ripping up their bedrolls and soaking the ground and the fabric with some kind of blood out of a jar. Arthur groaned inwardly. His knights wouldn't believe they went easily, but this would certainly discourage them. He hoped they were smart enough to look past the camp and see the footprints leading away, obviously more prints than theirs.

The kidnappers mounted their own horses after tying the reigns of Arthur's and Merlin's to their saddles. Arthur stumbled forwards as the horses started, but easily settled into the pace that was set for him. His eyes never left Merlin, who was pale and unconscious, by the looks of it. Arthur was glad of that, at least. As soon as they got wherever they were going, he was going to check his wound and do his best to fix the damage that had been done.

He should have brought Gwaine. He hated the thought as soon as it passed through his mind but he couldn't feel sorry for it. Gwaine wasn't injured. Gwaine would have been able to split a watch with him. Or, if nothing else, Gwaine wouldn't be hurting like Merlin was.

Or they would have injured Gwaine, because he was strong and healthy and would be a problem otherwise. He couldn't know what would have happened if Gwaine was around, and that wasn't important at the moment. Now he needed to think of what to do to get them both out of this situation, get Gwen out of her prison, and get them all back to Camelot alive in order to deal with the threat facing his kingdom.

It was a lot to think about, but he assumed he had a long time to think.

He glanced up at Merlin again, a quick glance to make sure the boy was alright, before he ducked his head and began thinking. He was dismayed to realize that they were leaving no footprints behind, neither the horses nor Arthur. Magic. He swore under his breath. He couldn't rely on his knights to find them, not now. It was all up to him, because he wouldn't risk Merlin anymore than he already had.

It was still dark for several more hours, during which Arthur trotted along, feeling the chafing on his wrists from the rough rope and wondering if Merlin was feeling the same. The men were making no effort to be quiet, which made Arthur suspect they had gained control of this area long ago. He was almost positive that Queen Amethyst didn't realize this was happening. She wanted to teach Arthur a lesson, yes, but kidnapping Arthur on top of recruiting sorcerers and threatening Gwen was too far out of character. Something was very wrong in Amira, right under the Queen's nose.

Daylight had been around for a few hours before Merlin's eyes cracked open. He winced and caught Arthur's eye, before cracking a weak, crooked grin. Arthur shook his head. Unbelievable.

"Just stay still and you won't have to walk." Arthur muttered.

Merlin just nodded.

"Is it bad?" Arthur gestured towards Merlin's wound.

"I'm fine."

"Merlin-"

"Could be worse." Merlin amended. Arthur still wasn't satisfied, but he knew pressing wouldn't get him any better an answer, and would probably draw unwanted attention to them.

"I'll get us out of this. Just hold on."

"To what?"

Arthur frowned as Merlin glanced at his hands, tied behind his back. Always the joker. That was positive, he told himself. It wasn't only annoying, it meant Merlin was well enough to make dumb jokes. It was good.

They stopped not long after that, apparently to water the horses. Not Arthur, who had been walking for several hours with no break. Not Merlin, who was forced from the horse and tied next to Arthur, despite his weak legs trembling and threatening to give just from the weight of his body. His body that was still thin and still recovering from a bad injury. No, only the horses. Then they pushed on again. Merlin would have fallen, if not for Arthur's shoulder placed conveniently in front of him. It made Arthur trip and skid painfully to his knees, but Merlin would have done worse to himself. He would have to be careful, though; his natural tendency was to protect Merlin, even at his own expense, but he needed to be in one piece to get them out of this. He would hate it, but he'd have to keep reminding himself it was for both of their good, in the end. Merlin would understand, and Arthur could already tell the boy wanted to chastise him for that little nudge, but he would feel guilty every time he put himself first.

It was several more hours before they saw the smoke rising from the camp, but still an hour more before they could see the temporary structures erected to house the army. Merlin was still stumbling along, although how he managed to stay on his feet that way was miraculous to Arthur. He was much worse for the wear, and the king could only hope they'd be tied somewhere with room to sit, at least. Merlin needed that much.

They slowed as the reached two sentinels standing guard outside the collection of tents. A short, handmade wall surrounded the camp, and while Arthur thought it in itself would do nothing, he assumed there was some sort of magic tied to it. Otherwise they wouldn't bother.

A quiet conversation that Arthur could hear, and they continued moving into the camp. It was hard for Merlin to start again, Arthur could tell, but he managed. They made it to a small tent with a pole in the middle to keep it standing, and Arthur and Merlin were shoved inside, where their hands were bound behind their backs to the pole. Then they were left alone, although Arthur could hear the quiet conversation of two guards outside.

"Merlin, get some sleep."

"I'm fine."

"Merlin-"

"Really, couldn't sleep if I wanted to."

"Pain?"

"I'm fine."

"Don't lie, Merlin." Arthur sighed, resting his head against the pole behind him.

"It hurts, but I'll live."

"Good. I'll get us out of here."

"Good."

AN/ Thanks for sticking with me, friends! I'm afraid updates from this point on may not be as regular (May not? Probably won't). Because life and stuff. But I appreciate those of you who are sticking around, you're wonderful, and you make me smile, and I need that. So thanks! Hope you enjoyed!