Merlin tried to blink open his eyes, but at the spark of pain that ignited in his chest and shot to his head, he scrunched them closed again. Gasping through the sudden ache he didn't dare move. His breathing was... weird, as if he couldn't quite take a breath deep enough; The ache whenever his chest expanded was not helping.

The last thing he remembered...

Help.

The plea resounding through the power saturated woods, echoing in Merlin's head. A popping sound and a rising tide. A beast and blood and...

He had to move. He rolled onto his side, his mouth already opening, tongue trying to form the word. Slowly this time he carefully peeled his eyes open, blinking around to see a... tent? What was going on, where was...

"Arthur." Across from him, pale-faced on a mound of furs lay Arthur. His hair stuck to a sodden brow and bandages covering his torso. "Arthur."

'You're awake .'

A feminine voice rang in his head making the ache in his chest shoot up into a pounding in his head. Startled, Merlin twisted around, only to yelp and collapse back onto to his back, eyes scrunched shut once more.

'Don't move.'

The voice sounded fond yet reprimanding and Merlin's heart ached as he thought of his mother.

"What- Who?" His voice rasped.

"Shh." A soothing voice sounded from his other side.

'Don't move. ' Echoed through his head once more when he tried to turn towards the voice. The renewed pounding make Merlin moan.

There was a hand under his head and a cup touched his lips. He sipped at the water, trying to follow it when it was taken away. He was pressed back against what he now recognised as his own pile of furs with the instruction to 'lie still'.

He winced. "That hurts," he moaned.

"Your head hurts?" A soft voice asked, same as the one that seemed the ring in his head and knock against his eyes. He nodded.

Opening his eyes once more he rolled his head sideways to see a woman, dressed quite plainly. She lifted her hand to stroke his brow, a strange look in her eyes that Merlin couldn't discern.

"Who are you?" He asked, his mouth at least under his control and acting normally. He couldn't say as much for any other part of his body, his chest twinged with every breath, his head ached and the rest of his body felt frail and exhausted.

"My name is Deira."

"What happened? How am I... here?"

"You called for help."

Yes. Well, he thinks he had. His magic had done... something, sent some sort of plea out. "You heard."

"We answered."

"Arthur?" Merlin asks, rolling his head to the other side to see the wounded Prince.

"Badly injured, but we have good healers here. Your friend will be fine."

Friend, Merlin winces. Were they? After everything they'd been through... but they certainly hadn't been acting like it before the beast had struck.

"Rest. You'll feel better once you've slept."

Merlin shook his head, he couldn't sleep.

"As stubborn as any boy." The woman muttered. "Swefe nu." At her whisperings darkness crept once more upon him and his pains disappeared.

XxX

When Merlin next awoke the woman, Deira, wasn't there. His chest still twinged and his limbs seemed weak, his blood prickling once more with the magic running through it. Merlin shivered and looked around for something, anything else to focus on.

Arthur. He had more colour than the last time Merlin was awake. He was more restless too, fidgeting in his sleep, rather than lying still as the dead; It was a reassuring sight.

Unfortunately the sight of Arthur didn't take Merlin's mind off his magic, it only reminded him of their fight before the beast's attack, and of his sudden outburst afterwards.

Without a doubt his magic had changed. He couldn't exactly deny that, although he had no idea what it meant. It had never done that before, exploded out of him against his will yes, but that... The magic wasn't destructive, it was... Well, Merlin didn't what it was doing. Something that felt... like he was overflowing perhaps or at home or united. But he wasn't, he was panicking while lost in the woods as far from home as he'd ever been while the only person he actually knew and could trust bled out before him.

Perhaps the feeling was deceptive but also, he'd thought he could trust Arthur. The boy kept rescuing him from his captors, he'd sworn he'd look after Merlin and yet, that night, he'd called Merlin a sorceror. Maybe, Merlin might concede, he'd said some hurtful things. But Arthur had just outright branded him a sorceror and didn't even seem sorry afterwards.

And how could Merlin blame him? He was a sorceror, even now, even if he didn't want to be. What else would, whatever that was in the woods, be called? He didn't have to like it or even accept it for it to be so. It was the truth, but still, he didn't think Arthur needed to throw it in his face like that.

Why did he have to be this way? What was happening to him? Merlin curled into a ball on his side as he stared at Arthur, and pondered these questions until Deira returned.

He was silent this time, even as Deira asked him if he hurt anywhere and how he was feeling. How could he possibly explain? Explain what it felt like to have his magic clamour under his skin for his attention, for its freedom. How the power surged around his chest and yet would simmer placidly in his belly. And how despite all that his chest felt hollow and his body capable of only breathing and the barest of slow turns. Explain how he was humming with strength and yet as weak as a newborn kitten and how all this only made him ache.

XxX

The third time Merlin woke he stayed awake. He was even able to sit up and feed himself the soup Deira brought him. His chest expanded properly, his head was clear and arms no longer felt like limp grainstalks, he was himself again. Of course the magic still bubbled away within him, but he'd rather ignore that.

Deira didn't stay long. Sitting silently with a sleeping Arthur didn't much appeal to Merlin. Although, now clearer of mind he was able to make out other noises beyond the tent, shuffling of feet, sizzling of meat with the pop of a campfire, and most apparent, the voices. It occured to him then that Deira wasn't the only person here, and this likely wasn't the only tent.

The need to know where he was and what was going on led Merlin to shove aside his blanket and crawl towards the tent flap. Surprisingly he didn't feel any pain or weariness. He didn't really want to imagine where the rejuvination came from.

When he pulled aside the flap he could see a bustling camp. There was a firepit in front of his tent, and several other tents set up around it, as well as behind them. He was clearly in the centre of this camp. Unfortunately that also meant this fire was surrounded by people who took notice at his sudden appearence.

When they turned towards him he scuttled away from the flap, letting it fall closed behind him. Breathing quickening he hunched in on himself on the other side of the tent, at the head of his makeshift bed.

His retreat, however, didn't make them leave him alone. A man entered, Merlin inching back for every step he took towards him. The man was tall enough to need to bow his head to stand, although he didn't remain standing for long as he crouched down in front of Merlin inbetween him and Arthur.

"You need not fear." He said in a smooth baritone. Merlin didn't agree.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Ogden."

Merlin looked past him towards Arthur, lying helpless in the middle of this camp of who knows what kind of people. They may have healed them so far, but frankly Merlin's track record of coming across strangers in the woods was not a good one. Still perhaps he could finally find out just how Arthur was doing, being the only one awake and moving was quickly becoming nerve-racking.

"Why isn't Arthur waking up?"

"Even magic takes time to heal, little Emrys."

"Magic?"

"We are druids. Magic is a part of our way of life."

That didn't make Merlin feel anymore trusting. He stared at Arthur, hoping he'd wake. He was alone here otherwise. Arthur had promised to protect him.

"Your friend will recover well given time, don't worry, little Emrys."

"He's not my friend." Merlin told him, ignoring how the statement made stomach sink. Ogden merely raised an eyebrow skeptically. Merlin had to change the subject. "What did you call me?"

"Emrys."

"My name's Merlin."

Ogden grinned at Merlin, seeming overly pleased. "That may be what your mother calls you."

"That's what a name is." Merlin pointed out.

"Most of the time. But I will call you Merlin if you wish."

That wasn't much of a concession. Frankly knowing the man was a druid and his name was Ogden wasn't enough.

"What do you want with us?" If he'd managed to get trapped by someone else who was overly interested in his magic, he was going to have a few things to say about it.

"You called out for help. We are a peaceful people, hospitality is one of our tenets."

"You just want to heal us? Then you'll let us go?" He needed to be sure.

"We will not keep you against your will, Merlin," Ogden said. Merlin deflated a little at that, at last. "If you have your worries out of the way, I was going to say that you're looking much better." Merlin nodded, unsure of how to respond. His face heated a little as he thought of being in the care of all these strangers. "Since you have recovered and regained your strength once more, we should talk about your magic."

Oh, damn. Merlin thought, he just must be the unluckiest person to ever walk the earth.

"No." He meant to say it firmly, but it came out weaker than he'd intended, almost like a whimper.

"We could feel your magic when we found you in the woods. It was everywhere, imbued in the very earth. Just to stand there was... intoxicating."

Oh, this was not good. This definitely counted as overly interested. And even worse, he'd caught on to Merlin's exact fears. There was something unusual about what he'd done, he'd known it.

"What do you mean?" He hadn't meant to ask the question but his curiousity must have outweighed his worry. This was someone who knew more about magic than he did. He'd never had anyone who'd actually explained magic to him, although after his last teacher he thought that might be just as well.

"You're magic is unique. You may call yourself Merlin but what you were when we found you... You are truly Emrys." He stared at Merlin with wonder and awe in his eyes which didn't make anything clearer.

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. You are just a child." Ogden leaned forward as if taking Merlin into his confidence. "But you will one day. There is no reason for that day to be today. However, I feel I should warn you of something. One piece of advice I can give, your magic is only going to grow stronger."

Merlin shook his head. "No. No, I don't even want it."

The druid stared at him with wide eyes. "Don't want-" It was Ogden's turn to shake his head. "Want it or not, your magic is you. There is no changing that. If you try to deny it you will only make this worse in yourself." He explained, keeping his tone level.

Merlin shook his head, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"I never thought that- You are truly just a young boy." Ogden looked at Merlin then, the same as Deira had before, as if astounded by something he didn't even notice. He didn't understand that anymore than the rest of this conversation.

"I will leave you now. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like. I am the leader of this camp, and you will always find a refuge here, should you ever need it."

At that, Ogden stood and left the tent. Merlin was left alone, once more sitting in silence with only a sleeping Prince for company, except with a mind buzzing with new questions, none of them positive.

XxX

A/N: Sorry there's no Arthur. The boys will get their talk next chapter.