Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the TV series "Merlin"

Merlin winced.

He opened his eyes and they widened as he realized just how much time had passed him. While the winds had torn apart the forest around him, the young warlock must have dozed off from the lack of sleep and energy. Before he had known it, night had dawned upon him and he was left with nothing but the light from the moon and stars hanging above his head. He cursed himself as he rushed to his feet, sprinting in the darkness. Tripping over himself, Merlin ignored the sharp throb shooting up his leg and continued forward, the magic of the cauldron beating through his chest.

He was so close.

…

Lyn hadn't had a wink of sleep. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon and yet she was still wide awake. Her hand was tightly clasped around Arthur's, and she was sure that she'd never feel her fingers again. Her brown eyes glanced over the ill prince as she frowned at the way his face began to pale once more. She pulled out her satchel with her free hand as she dug through it, disappointed in the small amount of potion she had left; it wouldn't be enough to sustain him for much longer.

"Merlin," the thief muttered as she glanced up at the sky.

By this time tomorrow, if the warlock hadn't returned, she would leave them both to their own fate.

She grimaced at the strange sense of guilt that coursed through her, not sure why she suddenly felt so responsible for the two; they were nothing but mere strangers. Still, she couldn't quite shake the feeling she knew Arthur, so perhaps they were not as unfamiliar as she thought. That changed nothing though; she would not leave herself to die for a failed cause.

Even though she had come to a firm conclusion, she still slightly hated herself.

...

Merlin winced as his fast paced running shifted into a fast limp. The warlock glanced up at the sky as he watched the sun rise, the yellow globe settling high above his head. Deciding to finally take a look at the injury that was causing him discomfort, the manservant leaned against a tree and pulled his pant leg up. His eyes widened as shock fell over him, blood drizzling down his leg from a deep and long gash. Realizing just how severe the wound was, the pain became ever so evident as Merlin stared down at it. He slid to the ground and took a seat, wincing as he straightened out his leg.

If I don't tend to this and start up again, I'm never going to get to the cauldron in time, the warlock said to himself as he quickly pulled out bandages; that would stop the bleeding for now.

Standing to his feet, Merlin glanced at his managed leg and sighed before he pushed forward, making sure to keep at the same quick pace he had earlier. After about an hour, the magic of the cauldron pulsed through him like never before. He smiled widely as he laughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. At the rate he was going, he'd be able to find the cauldron and return to Lyn and Arthur by the end of the day. He'd save Arthur's life—once more—and they'd be on their merry way back to Camelot.

Before the warlock could continue with his happy moment, a deep growling caught his attention. Merlin slowly turned around and stared wide-eyed at the two scaly panther creatures that had attacked him just the day before. He took a slow step back as the two black animals snarled at him, bearing their sharp teeth. Merlin closed his eyes as he frowned and shook his head.

Just his luck.

...

Lyn sighed as she cooked a rabbit over the fire. She looked over at Arthur and watched as he took a deep breath, relaxing with it. She fought the smile that threatened to appear as she turned back to her food. As she silently continued on with her business, the sound of Arthur's voice filled the gap. Her eyes widened as she stood to her feet and quickly approached the prince's side.

"Arthur?" the thief called out as she pushed all distaste for the man aside. He blinked a few times before he stared up at her face. She frowned at the paleness and fadedness of his usually bright blue eyes. He merely stared up at her, not saying a word—which was a bit off-putting for the young woman. "Arthur?" she tried once more as the prince blinked. Then she realized, he wasn't looking at her, but looking past her it seemed. It was as if he were looking through her eyes and into someone else's.

"I've met you somewhere before," the blond said weakly, catching Lyn off guard. She raised a brow as she tapped the young prince's cheek, receiving no reaction from him whatsoever. She frowned as she quickly crawled to her bag and dug through it, keeping a close eye on the blond. She grabbed her flask of water and unscrewed the top, pouring a small puddle into her hand and dumping it onto Arthur's face.

Still nothing.

"You idiotic pig!" Lyn snapped as Arthur continued to stare through her; it was as if he were listening to someone else talking back to him.

"I don't know who you are…but thank you." A pinch of relief passed through the bandit's soul as she tried to ignore it, relaxing. It seemed that whoever the delusional prat was talking to was not an enemy but an ally.

"…You're stronger than I gave you credit for," the dark haired woman mumbled as she smirked and shook her head, glancing up in Merlin's direction.

Perhaps there really was hope.

...

There was no hope.

Merlin winced as he pressed himself against a tree. He held his breath as he glanced down at his bleeding leg, the scent of his blood wafting through the breeze. The warlock grimaced as he heard the screech of the creatures that were hunting him. The sound sent shivers down his spine but he did well to ignore his welling up fear and push forward. He began running once more as he jumped over a fallen tree, screaming out and falling from the pressure on his injured leg. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his gash, releasing a pain-filled scream once more. Tears began to well up in his blue eyes from the excruciating prickle that shot up from his leg to his chest. Deep breaths echoed in the still as Merlin did his best to collect himself, blinking away the unshed tears and standing to his feet; he was a powerful warlock, but healing spells were never his forte.

Weaving through the trees, the manservant panted, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple, stinging his blue eyes. He merely wiped it all away with the back of his hand as he continued on, glancing over his shoulder.

For a split moment, terror overwhelmed the young boy. The two panther-like beings were gaining on him but hanging back. They bared their fangs and snarled at him but there was a certain gleam in their dark eyes. The pair was waiting; they were choosing their moment to strike wisely. Merlin was merely a man lost at sea and now the sharks were closing in around him. They meant to tease him with hope. They wanted him to think he stood a chance; that was why hunting him was so fun.

Merlin grimaced before he stopped in front of a rock face. He turned to the two beings and watched as the emerged from the bushes with finesse. If he didn't know better, he'd almost say they were smirking at him—and perhaps they truly were. The brunet panted heavily as he tried to ignore the searing ache coursing through his body, the black animals taking slow and careful steps towards him. The young warlock glanced from the two to his surroundings before he glanced upwards. He smiled and looked back at the creatures before he looked up and his eyes flashed a bright gold.

"Híe brýse!" Two—almost impossibly large—boulders fell from the top of the precipice, tumbling on top of the two beings without warning.

Merlin watched as what should have been a moment of victory was actually a moment of pure puzzlement.

"Wha…" The stones collided into the black animals but instead of smashing them as they were intended to do, the creatures puffed into black smoke, disappearing completely. It was as if they evaporated into the air and that was that. But that wasn't that. Merlin had no words to describe what he was feeling. He was relieved, confused, exhausted, numb, and most of all scared. It wasn't the first time these things had disappeared before.

And Merlin had a feeling he'd be seeing them far too soon.

...

His vision was blurry and his head was aching. He was sure that his eyelids had been sewn shut, but he did well to force them open so he could see his surroundings. He blinked a few times, letting his blue eyes adjust to the light, and he was absorbed by shock as he found himself lying on a patch of grass, his wrists free from the branches that held him prisoner. Carefully sitting up, Arthur winced as he rubbed his wrists and glanced around.

"You're finally awake!" The future prince looked over his shoulder and watched as the little girl from earlier came skipping towards him with a bright smile. She sat down beside him and the blond watched her carefully as she stared up at him innocently.

"…How did you get me down?"

"Magic, silly," she said with a grin, her delightful expression almost pinching his heart.

"…Why did you help me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she countered, the future king chuckling. He sighed as he turned to his wrists, happy no marks had been left. Before he could examine another part of himself, he heard the young girl clear her throat beside him. He looked back at her and blinked; she was clearly still expecting an answer to what Arthur thought was a rhetorical question.

Sighing, the prince cleared his throat, trying to ignore the discomfort he felt. "I suppose I'm not quite used to those with magic trying to help me…I've only ever known magic to be evil my entire life. I never thought someone would use magic for…well, good." Perhaps it was because Arthur was feeling unlike himself, but he was being rather honest.

The little stranger stared up at him before her smile softened. She scooted closer to the prince as he watched her carefully, as if waiting for her attack. She slowly placed her hand on his hand, catching Arthur off guard. His blue eyes met her brown ones as she spoke. "Magic's not evil. People with magic choose to do what they do. It just so happens you meet a lot of mean people," she said, the blond staring down at her with awe.

Never had someone explained something so thoroughly yet so simply to him before.

"…I've met you somewhere before," Arthur suddenly pointed out. He thought for a moment as he tried to recover his lost memories. He frowned when he found nothing, the little girl rubbing his hand in a loving sort of manner.

"Maybe, who knows," she said with a child-like grin that made the future king's heart glow. He shook his head before sighing and lying back down; he was still so completely exhausted.

"I don't know who you are…but thank you." And as his eyes began to flutter close and he started falling into a blissful sleep, Arthur could have sworn he had heard Lyn's voice.

"You're welcome."

...

Night had fallen, and Lyn was beginning to lose the hope she had acquired over the day. She frowned as she placed dry logs into the fire she had created, the light fighting off any shadows that threatened to loom over her and Arthur. She glanced at the prince and watched as he slept peacefully. The thief was glad he hadn't had an episode since the last and was actually getting rest; it seemed he was actually fighting off the magic threatening to steal his soul.

The young woman ran her fingers through her knotted hair, hoping to unkink it and make it neater. She winced but ignored the dull pain, continuing on with her ministrations. After cleaning up her hair, she pulled it back up into a ponytail and rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes. It was nearing her second night without sleep and she was sure she was slowly going to fall into a coma if she didn't rest soon. Rest wasn't in the cards for Lyn though; protecting Arthur was the utmost important thing for her to do.

That is, it would be the most important thing for her until she left.

Frowning at the thought, the bandit kicked it away, turning back to Arthur and sighing. She pried his lips apart and took her canteen, pouring just a bit down his throat. He drank it even in his sleep, showing just how thirsty he truly was. Her brown eyes lingered on his figure for a moment longer before she turned her head in the direction of the cauldron. She glanced up at the moon before closing her eyes.

She was giving Merlin until sunrise.

...

Merlin had done many things before.

He had spoken with a dragon, saved Arthur's life from monsters and evil witches, he had even traveled to far countries and fought with bandits and evil kingdoms, but he was sure; the hardest thing he had ever done in his life was climb a crag with his severely injured—and he was sure it was infected—leg. Still, he moved forward, climbing and pulling himself higher and higher. He'd never known he had had that sort of strength in him, but they say true strength comes out for those you love.

Reaching the top, the young warlock pulled himself up and over the edge. He groaned and held his bandaged leg, making sure to move it as little as possible. He took a few deep breaths before calming down and sighing, the pain subsiding and passing. Letting himself catch his breath, Merlin laid on his back, staring up at the night sky. His lower leg began to throb, making the brunet's entire limb go numb. As much as he wanted to sit and sleep and recover, he knew there was not time. So, instead of dwelling on what he couldn't have, the prophesized warlock carefully stood to his feet, making sure to keep little pressure on his gashed leg.

And when he turned around in the direction of the cauldron, he was greeted by a large and abandoned fortress.

...

Everything had been packed. The fire was still lit but dying and Arthur had been neatly tucked underneath a makeshift blanket Lyn had put together. She loomed over the prince and stared down at him as she looked up at the rising sun. Deep inside, there was a part of her that had hoped Merlin would prove her wrong. She had hoped that he would come in the nick of time and hold the cauldron above his head with a proud and triumphant smile, but she had been right; he had failed.

The female thief closed her eyes and controlled her expression before turning and making her way through the forest. She stopped for a second at the sound of a sigh from Arthur. She looked back at him and watched as he rolled on to his side, facing her. Her jaw clenched shut as her hands balled up into tight fists. She hated going back on her word, for she had fully intended on giving the idiot his cauldron and saving his father, but the circumstances had changed. Her life was now in danger as Arthur was already caught in the cross fire; there was nothing she could do.

You could stay. Lyn frowned at herself. The side of her that she had repressed—the part of herself she had wiped away still lingered. It clenched to her soul, creating holes in the wall she had built.

Sighing, the thief walked back to the prince, kneeling down beside him. She pulled her pack around and opened it, pulling out her last tube of potion she had left; though she could use it for future endeavors, she'd instead help the blond. Hopefully this will give you rest for a bit longer, she said to herself as she jarred his mouth open and poured the last of her potion down his throat. Making sure he drank every drop, Lyn sighed, standing to her feet. She closed her bag up and gave Arthur an almost regretful gaze before walking.

She had done enough; it was time for her to move on.

Hi you guys ^_^ Seeing as the end of my break is here, I wanted to get in a chapter before my schedule acts up again. I'll be rather busy, but I'm hoping I'll be able to squeeze in time to post chapters for my stories!

Thank you to everyone who's been reading! I'm glad you are all (hopefully) enjoying this story. I appreciate the support and I hope that future chapters continue to turn out well. I'll do my best!

Anyways, don't have anything else to say, so you guys have a good rest of your day!