Author's Note:

Hi everyone:)
I know I'm a bit late again... sorry. I've never had as many lessons as I have this year and somehow my free-time usually consists of watching tv, reading (and sleeping way too little). Well... I'll try to be faster next time. (Note the 'try'.)
Thank you SO MUCH for all the wonderful reviews. And the alerts and favs. They make my day every time I get one (even though my family thinks I'm crazy when I come home in a bad mood, check my fanfiction account and suddenly run around with the brightest of smiles :D). Thanks!
Enjoy and please R&R! :)

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter 11: The Lord of the Forest

It was pure luck that Merlin's magic had given in to the drain and had left him in the middle of the forest, where he could hear the Prince's scream. And it was only thanks to the fear for Will- and admittedly, some worry for the Prince (if only because Freya would kill him if something happened to him, or so Merlin told himself)- that he managed to get up and climb the hill from where the scream had come.

On the other side was a small valley, free from trees, and in it's middle the Prince was lying, surrounded by five men.

Will or the cart weren't in sight, which meant that Arthur must have tried to escape when they had caught him. And since he couldn't walk very fast with his wound, there must have been a good reason that Will hadn't followed him. Put that together with a prisoner who had been trained to fight and kill since birth, someone desperate enough to try about everything...

The thought made anger boil up inside him, his magic flickering to life for a few seconds. Then one of the bandits- a slim guy with dark hair and a nasty bruise forming on his face- spit on the unmoving Prince and Merlin's anger got a new target. Whatever Arthur had done, he had strong morals. He wouldn't have killed Will or hurt him deadly.

Plus, he didn't like people mistreating those too weak to defend themselves- even if it was the Prince of Camelot.

The warlock took a deep breath, making sure his hood was still in place an covering all of his face.

"Áhelle mé."*

The spell fell easily from his lips, having used it hundreds of times- whenever he needed to go undetected; even if he was asleep or unconscious.

Halway down the hill Merlin stumbled, slithering down the rest and then waiting with baited breath. No reaction. Apparently the bandits were so engrossed in their new victim that they hadn't even heard him.

Coming to his feet with a groan, Merlin moved forward until he was standing right next to one of the men, for the first time getting a good look on Arthur.

The Prince looked awful to say the least. His wound must have opened again and blood had seeped through the shirt and trousers, turning the clothes into a sticky mess as it started to dry. His skin formed a harsh contrast, deadly pale from the blood loss except for the left side of his face. That cheek was decorated by the huge shape of a hand- from the size that of the giant next to him.

Merlin fisted his hands, suppressing a curse. The Prince looked more dead than alive- in fact the only signs that he was still alive were the smirks of the bandits. They couldn't sell a dead Prince, not without losing 90 percent of the money they could get if he was alive.

"We should move. We have less than an hour until the knights arrive," the bandit opposite from Merlin warned, tearing the warlock from his thoughts. The slim man hummed.

"Steven, you carry our Princeling. And remember- we need to be quick. We've wasted enough time on this fucking bastard."

The giant next to Merlin simply nodded and shifted, making to grab the Prince. When he leaned down, he brushed against Merlin and stopped abruptly- staring at what seemed to be empty air next to him.

Merlin was unable to move, seeing the giant's hands move carefully towards him- but again his magic saved him, rearing up in exactly the right moment to sent Steven flying back. His back made a sickening crunch when it hit the tree and Merlin couldn't help but flinch. The giant didn't get up again.

Everyone in the valley froze, all eyes focused on the fallen giant.

"What the hell is going on?!," the slim man, who was obviously their leader, exclaimed, slowly backing away from the Prince.

One of the other two- a red-haired brute- quickly made the sign against evil.

"It's sorcery! They say the Prince was kidnapped by powerful magicians. They will kill us all for taking their victim!"

"They won't," his companion answered, but he had also started to back away. "The Prince was obviously fleeing. They should be happy we caught them."

A beam of energy hit him, weaker this time as Merlin felt his powers subside again, making him stumble backwards and leaving a smoking circle on his shirt- right above his heart.

The beam couldn't have hurt that much, still the bandit cried out- scrambling backwards as fast as he could with his eyes roaming the clearing.

The slim guy had drawn a knife in the meantime, looking around wildly. "Show yourself!"

Merlin made the knifes fly from his hand and embedd themselves into a tree, next to the red-haired's head- deep enough that they wouldn't be able to simply pull it out. Then he loosened his first spell slightly, appearing as a dark shape-barely more than a shadow.

His appearance had the desirable effect, making the bandit he had fired the knights at cry out as he pointed at the light that fell through Merlin's half-there form onto the floor- no shadow showing. The bandit's mouth opened and closed again with no words coming out and the warlock decided to make use of the silence.

"The Prince is ours," he intoned, letting his voice boom through the valley. "Anyone who tries to steal him will pay bitterly for their deed."

The bandit leader had recovered enough from his shock to try a smile (that looked more like a grimace), stretching both hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender.

"He is completely yours, of course he is. You can do with him whatever you want. We were only fearing that he had escaped and wanted to bring him back to you, we-"

"I heard something else," Merlin interrupted him, tilting his head slightly to the right. "Don't forget- this forest is magic and magic flows within it. Whatever is spoken here comes to my ears and whatever is done to my eyes. The trees keep watch over every trespasser."

Of course it was all a big lie, but it did its purpose- the bandits shrinking away from the trees aroumd them. The red-head even fell to his knees, pleading.

"We were just joking, my Lord, your Highness, just joking, please, you have to believe me-"

"Everyone who takes my property will be punished accordingly," Merlin said and began to walk towards them, his voice unforgiving. "You have stolen and broken the Prince. If he dies, he is useless to me. Which means you will have to take his place."

The bandits paled, obviously remembering in what condition the Prince had been when he had arrived. Their leader was the first to speak.

"If you have to take one of us, choose Thomas. He is still young and fit. A great exchange for the Princeling."

The bandit with the knifes startled, his eyes widening.

"Oh no, he's wrong. David's a much better catch. Very intelligent and stuff, ain't he? A good catch."

Suddenly they were all speaking at once, trying to convince him to take their companions and spare themselves. It made his head hurt.

"Silence!" he shouted and they obeyed immediately, freazing in mid-speech. It was almost comical. "I will need all of you. The Prince's soul is worth a lot more than your poor filthy things."

There was a moment of silence, before the leader spoke again.

"Please, my Lord- with your power he will surely heal again. There is no need to make do with our souls, they are tainted from years of stealing anyways. Just let us leave and I promise we will never set a foot into this forest again."

Merlin pretended to overthink the idea, watching from the corners of his eyes as the bandits waited like deers in the headlight.

"I have a better idea," he said finally and felt a rush of disgust at how hopeful they looked. Right now they would do about everything for him.

He hated it, sometimes hated to have all that power at all- even though it did come on handy. He would have long died from exhaustion, had he not been Emrys.

"There are knights in this place, scrutinizing every centimeter and interrupting the peace of this forest. I want you to give yourself up to them and when they question you about the Prince, tell them that you have seen him further in the North, near the border. You have heard talks about a group of rebellious druids that resides there and doesn't belong to any kingdom. They have kidnapped the Prince to take revenge on the King. The knights mustn't suspect that you are telling lies though, or you will instantly be dead."

He half-turned towards Steven and the bandits followed his gaze, a shiver running through their leader as he bowed down- the others hastily following his example.

"Of course we will do as you say, your Highness. The knights won't suspect a thing, I swear."

"You are very generous, Sire," David added, his forhead almost touching the floor.

Merlin took a step forwards and glared at them as his eyes flashed golden under the hood.

"Leave now and never come back. Your presence is tainting the air which you breathe and the ground you stand on. But remember- I see and hear anything. One wrong word or movement and all of you are dead, regardless of who has committed the crime."

Merlin forced himself to stand tall and unmoving while they retreated, uttering thanks and bowing until they had reached the end of the valley- and then turning and running as fast as they could. The warlock didn't believe they would dare to break their oath. Still, he forced himself to remain in the same spot for another few seconds, until his knees buckled- the invisibility spell completely abandoning him as the adrenaline of the past few minutes left him.

He had never felt this tired before in his life and it wasn't something he wanted to experience ever again. He was aching from exhaustion, his bones feeling light and brittle and his brain numb.

Groaning, the warlock forced himself to crawl over to the Prince, searching for a pulse. He nearly cried from relief when he felt a shallow fluttering beneath his fingers.

Arthur was alive. There would be no more death today.

Taking a last short breath, Merlin rasped "Ágíeme."** Then he crumbled next to the Prince, finally sinking into peaceful oblivion.

*Áhelle mé. - Hide me.
**Ágíeme. - Heal.

Can you call this a cliffhanger? Hmm...

Anyway, review? :)