Once again, thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews people have been posting, it means a lot to me!

So, time for the big question-will Arthur let him go or not?

Unaware of his mentor's flight, Merlin was busy battling with his own conscience. He had promised Tyson that he would speak to Arthur about accompanying him out of the castle – something that he was almost desperate to do. He still couldn't quite believe that his father was here, wanting the opportunity to get to know his son. On the other hand, his main loyalties still lay with Arthur; he was his prince, his master, his friend. And he had promised that he would stay away with from Tyson, although that was before he knew the truth. Even so, Merlin knew that he would have to be extremely cautious when approaching the matter with the prince. How should he tell him that he wanted to spend some time with the very person that he had been ordered to stay away from? Instinct that had nothing to do with magic warned him that Arthur might not take it too well.

Slipping through the doors almost silently, Merlin couldn't help but smile at the sight. However anxious he was about the upcoming conversation, it was still a sweet sight to see the Arthur was exactly where he had been left, spread fully out across the bed, all the cares and worries gone. Little did Merlin know that this was to be his undoing. Letting his guard down completely, Merlin didn't feel another presence arrive as he crossed the room to draw back the curtains. He didn't sense the feeling of unease slip menacingly into the room like a shadow as he gently shook Arthur awake. Neither did he notice how his feelings of happiness were slowly being consumed, nor the small chuckle from outside the door.

*

Arthur slowly peeled his eyes open when he felt his servant's hand gently shake him. Sitting up groggily, the prince couldn't believe that it was morning already; it only felt a matter of moments since he had finally fallen into bed. As he swung his legs out from under the sheets, Arthur couldn't help but feel a small amount of resentment towards Merlin. Why did he have to wake him up so early, every day? Surely even a prince was allowed a lie in now and again? Before he could make a retort at his servant, however, Arthur took a proper look at the boy. If he thought that he was tired, Merlin didn't look like he had slept at all. Huge black circles shadowed his eyes, making the rest of his skin look pale in comparison. His eyes seemed to be telling hundreds of stories. At a first glance, they were the look of someone who was deeply annoyed, but yet, when studied more closely, there seemed to be an underlying sense of both anxiety and happiness. Shaking his head, Arthur tried to clear his mind. He would never know what went through Merlin's head. Nor, quite frankly, did he want to know, especially not at this time in the morning.

"I wore that the other day," the prince grumbled as he stood up, sparing only a glance at the outfit that Merlin had carefully selected.

"No, the one you're thinking of is the other jacket. You haven't worn this for ages," Merlin responded, his annoyance coming through. Arthur sounded so spoilt when he moaned like this.

"Either way, I'm not wearing it now. You've creased it." Arthur wasn't sure why he felt so angry with his servant. Merlin had chosen his outfit for almost a year now, selecting exactly the right things every time. But for some reason that he could not fathom, Arthur had a deep sense that he really didn't want to wear today's clothes.

"Fine!" Merlin snapped, flinging the clothes back into the vast wardrobe. "You pick if you're going to be so stubborn about it."

Arthur stared at him in shock; Merlin never spoke to him like this, even if they were bickering. Striding around the prince, Merlin set about making the bed, taking none of his usual care. As the pillows were pummelled with far more force than necessary, Arthur grabbed the nearest set of clothes within his reach and strode around his screen to change. He didn't want the other boy's help if that was the sort of mood he was in. In fact, Arthur wasn't sure that he wanted Merlin's company at all, although if pressed, he would not be able to provide a reason why…

As soon as Arthur disappeared from his sight, Merlin paused in what he was doing. Staring at the almost mangled pillow in his hands, the warlock frowned. Why had he snapped at the prince like that? Merlin knew better than anyone that Arthur was not a morning person, especially if he hadn't received a good night sleep. But even then, the servant could not work out what had got him so worked up. Considering the news he was still dying to share, Merlin felt a surge of different emotions battle around him, each trying to take control, but being rejected by the persistent feeling of annoyance.

Fully dressed, Arthur reappeared just as Merlin finished making the bed. The two of them stared at each other warily, both wondering what on earth was going on, yet not wanting to be the one who first voiced their thoughts. Merlin couldn't help but notice smugly that the clothes Arthur had grabbed in his flurry were the very ones that he had picked out originally. Why the prince had made such a fuss was even more of a mystery now.

Deciding that now would be a good a time as any, Merlin made up his mind. He was going to tell Arthur about Tyson and ask for permission to leave with his father. Maybe the two of them had just been around each other for too long, and needed a break, and that this whole situation was really just perfect timing?

"Sire? Do you remember the creepy man from yesterday?"

"What about him?" Arthur asked, tying a scabbard to his belt, ready for the morning training session with his knights.

"Well, I kind of ran into him again. And before you say anything, no I didn't disobey you. He was waiting for me in Gaius's chambers and I couldn't exactly avoid him."

"What did he want?" Arthur responded, trying but failing to keep the icy tone from his voice. Once more, the prince didn't know what he was so annoyed about. That someone wanted to spend time with Merlin and not with him? That Merlin was obviously important enough to this man that he had tracked the servant down in the middle of the night?

"For me to leave with him for the forest this very morning." Merlin gabbled his sentence as quickly as he could, holding his breath for Arthur's reaction. The prince raised his chin, his face expressionless. This didn't look good. If he were angry, then Merlin would be able to tell. And if he were pleased, then likewise. But with this expression, it could mean absolutely anything.

"For you to leave with him? Merlin, why on earth would he pick you, in the middle of the night, no less, to accompany him out of Camelot?"

"Maybe some people actually appreciate me for who I am, not just whether or not their armour is polished," Merlin retorted heatedly. Biting his lip in anxiety whilst waiting for Arthur's reaction, the young warlock realised that he hadn't given Arthur a decent enough argument to let him go. Wanting this more than anything, Merlin swallowed his pride.

"I'm sorry, sire. This man, Tyson, has picked me, well, because…you see, he is my father. He thought that I died long ago, but found out that I was, in fact, still alive. Business has to take him out of the city immediately, and he asked if I wanted to accompany him, use the time to get to know him. But I told him that first of all I had to talk to you…" His voice trailing off, failing to hide the hope echoing within his words, Merlin watched Arthur carefully. The prince didn't look happy. No, that was an understatement. He looked down right irritated.

"So you think that you can come in here and insult me, and then expect me to grant you a favour and let you disappear off with some stranger that, may I remind you, Merlin, had you terrified yesterday. And I'm guessing that you don't want me to tell my father either."

"Arthur, come on, you know that I didn't mean it like that. Besides, have I not just apologised?"

"It's sire to you, Merlin. Or 'My Lord'. You know, for a servant, you really ask too much. If you had any other master, then you would have been sacked long ago."

"Or perhaps they would understand what this means to me, rather than being such a prat the whole time."

The temperature of the room plummeted as Arthur slowly turned to look at Merlin. The tension could have been cut with a knife as the two boys glared at each other. Behind the door, a figure stood in the shadows, a sly grin spreading slowly across his face. His spell always worked well, but never to this extent before. It was obvious that there had already been some underlying tension between the two of them, for Tyson knew that his magic wasn't strong enough to cause this sort of affect, especially not with Merlin's natural resistance to him.

Merlin audibly swallowed as Arthur simply looked at him. This time, the servant could read his face, and knew that he had overstepped the mark. But unlike earlier, Merlin was not prepared to swallow his pride this time, not with the prince acting like such an arrogant prat. He had truly hoped that Arthur would understand. He knew how much the prince wanted to be able to have a good relationship with Uther, and thought that it was considerably unfair to deny his servant the opportunity of getting to know his own father.

"So, you want to go with this man?" Arthur began slowly, the tone of his voice making Merlin flinch. It was deadly quiet, something Merlin knew meant far more danger than if he had been shouting. "Well, off you go, then. But, Merlin, don't expect to come back again. If you leave Camelot with him, you are leaving Camelot for good. Now, get out of my sight!"

"Arthur –"

"Go!"

As Arthur pointedly looked out of the window in the opposite direction, Merlin nodded softly to himself, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. This was the very thing that he had been dreading, being forced to choose between his father and his friend. But with things the way that they were with the prince, maybe it was for the best that he left.

Walking slowly out of the room, Merlin carefully closed the doors behind him, determined not to let Arthur see him lose his composure. Not knowing that he had an audience, he dropped the act as soon as the door was shut. Drawing his fist back, Merlin punched the wall as hard as he could, feeling the pain lance up his arm. He didn't care though. It was only part of what he wanted to do to vent out his feelings for the prince. He had to be so bloody stubborn, the whole time. In a moment of pure annoyance, Merlin decided. He wasn't going to stand for Arthur and his prat-ish-ness any longer. This time, Merlin was going to do something for himself for once. Full of a determination that didn't quite reach his heart, the warlock set off back to Gaius's chambers to collect his belongings and inform his father that he would indeed be travelling with him, even if it did mean not coming back to Camelot.