A/N: Hello, dear readers. I'm sorry for the late update here. I'm currently stressing over trying to find a new flat. Why is that always such a struggle? I'm living in a large city and every flat costs a fortune. Ug.

Anyway: New chapter! Enjoy. And thanks to everyone who reviewed on last chapter or PMed me! You guys are awesome. I love the feedback :)

Chapter Five: The Huntress

Old oaks watched silently as Merlin made his panicked way through their realm. His boots whirled up old leaves, moss, and earth. He ordered his magic to sweep away his tracks. For some time, it obeyed. The longer Merlin ran, though, the harder it got to direct his magic. His steps grew more and more sluggish. With each step, his broken left arm was jostled and he felt sick. Soon, he could no longer bring his magic to mask his trail and he left staggering footprints and broken branches in his wake. Dizziness tugged at his thoughts and maybe he should just take a break. The moss looked soft and inviting. Merlin went on. The oaks were younger now, trunks thinner, and joined by beeches. Merlin stumbled and groaned in pain as he crashed to his knees. His vision blacked for a moment and his ribs wrenched at him in a surge of pain.

He went on, still, black dots dancing in his vision. By now the trees laughed at him. Merlin gasped in breaths. He pushed his magic out. It flared up, almost impossible to direct. It flowed and sloshed around. His eyes followed the magic. It didn't have to go far and the riders were already there. Thicker oaks watched as the men rushed by, their dogs by their sides. A spike of panic cut into Merlin. He blinked his eyes open and found himself lying on the forest floor. He swallowed thickly and his throat was so dry, it hurt. He pushed himself up into a standing position and the world spun faster around him.

Fear told him to run, but he could only stumble forward. The trees thinned out. There was a small footpath. Merlin followed and left the forest. The sky above was grey as he forced himself to move on. He thought he could hear dogs baying. It drove him on with a fearful chill. He had his path in front of him and still followed. Dimly, he saw that the oaks had abandoned him completely. They had been replaced by flat marshland. Another step and Merlin stumbled again. He squeezed his eyes shut and his thoughts wobbled and shifted. There were the dogs baying again and he heart thrums. Harsh against the ground, there were thrums. Hooves.

They were so close. Merlin heard a shout behind him and fear pushed him into running again. His heart hammering away in his chest, he dared to turn his head. Even without his magic, he could see the men now. They had spotted him and drove their horses on. Merlin stumbled on the path and almost fell. Panic rushed through him as he saw the riders gaining on him. If they got him, they would show no mercy, just like their king. Something whirred by his head. A few steps in front of Merlin, suddenly an arrow stuck in the path. He ran on while his body wanted to give out. A shout came from behind,

"Stop! Surrender."

Merlin yelled in shock as another bolt rammed into the earth, not even a meter beside him. He hastened on. The path wound on. Another bolt hit, closer. Much closer.

"Get him!" one of the trackers cried, clearly enjoying the hunt.

Like their hounds, they would rip Merlin apart. He threw another panicked look over his shoulder. Now the men were almost upon him. He could already see the whites in the horse's eyes. The hounds barked loudly and their sharp teeth waited for him. One of the men reloaded his crossbow. Another held a sleek bow in hand, arrow nocked and ready. This time, the man wouldn't miss. He was too close to miss. With a twang the arrow was released and it was true. In panic, Merlin, he cried out,

"Beorgan me."

(Spare me.)

His magic wobbled and barely obeyed. Still a weak shield sprang up around him and the arrow harmlessly bounced off of it.

"Curst sorcerer!" the tracker yelled in anger.

They were almost upon him and already pulled their swords. A huge hound snapped at his heels. Panic driving him, Merlin turned right and left his solid path. Without thinking, he raced into the marshlands. Already, he could feel the mud clinging to his boots. Further he went and the bog pulled at him. Behind him, Merlin heard horses whinny.

"No, stop," one of the trackers yelled at the others. "It'll suck down the horses."

More arrows crashed into Merlin's thin shield until it simply collapsed into itself. Unprotected, he went on. To the knees he now sank into the mud. This would be his grave if he went on further. Merlin threw a frantic look over his shoulder. The trackers had dismounted and followed him, swords drawn. The hounds and their lithe form already pounced into the marshes after Merlin. He stumbled and almost fell. With force, Merlin had to pull his left leg free from the bog. Now even the dogs struggled. But their sharp teeth wanted their prey after such a long hunt. Merlin's foot again got caught. They would rip him apart. Almost, he could feel the dog's hot breath on his neck. Their paws made sucking sounds in the bog.

Please, please, Merlin thought as he frantically tried to move on.

His magic stirred. It wobbled and slipped. With a last effort, it gathered around Merlin's feet. He took his next step and suddenly the deep marsh grew solid where he set his feet. Merlin stumbled, his dizzy mind only catching on now. He took another step and the bog remained solid under his feet. Merlin threw another frantic look back. Just a meter away, one of the black dogs struggled through the deep bog determinedly. Normally, he wouldn't be able to escape a dog on foot. With the marshland solid only under his soles, though, Merlin turned away from his pursuers and ran.

The men's angry shouts followed him together with their hounds' disappointed baying.

Another arrow hissed by Merlin, his shield long gone, and he cried out in pain as it scraped his arm. Blood ran down his skin, but he didn't stop and never looked back again. His magic valiantly hung on as he stumbled through the marshland.

.+.

For hours and hours, Merlin went on. The marshland was vast and soon he had lost all sense of direction. His magic still flickered around Merlin's feet and stopped him from being sucked into the marshes. He felt drained, though, and his magic was weak. If it burst, he would sink into the bog and never come back. Shivering, Merlin wrapped his arms around himself to shield against the biting cold. He had nothing but his thin shirt and trousers and the merciless winter wind cut right into him.

He stumbled over a tuft of grass and almost lost his balance. Everything hurt and Merlin could barely think straight. Groaning in pain, he pulled his broken arm closer to his chest. He couldn't remember ever being so lost before in his life. If the men had brought him back to Camelot, would Arthur have just chopped his head off? Merlin's stomach constricted at the thought alone.

No. The king would've burned him instead. Taking off his head would be too merciful.

He sniffled softly as he walked on. With his next step, Merlin sunk a bit into the bog. His boot squelched as he pulled it free. Damn it. Searing hot, a jolt of panic rushed through him. The next step, he sunk in even deeper. Desperately, Merlin pulled at his magic. It weakly wobbled about and tried to twist around his feet, but then slipped. He just couldn't hold on anymore. Merlin stumbled again and this time he crashed to his hands and knees. The mud was ice cold on his skin and as it soaked into his trousers. A soft gasp left him as he finally lost his hold on his magic. Weakly, the force collapsed into itself. He squeezed his eyes shut and a wave of dizziness rushed over him. A harsh cough shook his frame and fierce pain cut right into his broken ribs.

Almost, Merlin wished that the pain would finally make him pass out. Then he just could stay here. Forever. He wasn't so lucky, though. World spinning around him, Merlin opened his eyes again. Why he even tried, he didn't know. Still, Merlin pushed himself up. This time as he continued his way through the marshes, he sunk in deep. With each step, he had to pull his leg free from the mud. Soon all thoughts left him. He couldn't think further than to the next agonizing step he had to take. A deep fog rose around him, but Merlin didn't even register that. Only his shivering got worse as the temperature dropped further.

Again, he pulled his leg free from the bog's pull. He couldn't go on much further. Breathing going fast with exertion and pain, Merlin looked up. In the fog, he saw dark, tall masses. His forehead furrowed in confusion. His hazy thoughts didn't catch up, but somehow, he still walked towards that apparition. As if something pulled him, Merlin was drawn to those dark figures in the fog. Step after excruciating step, he came closer. Then the fog parted and Merlin saw the nature of those dark masses.

Crooked with age, a stone circle marked this spot here in the middle of the marshlands. Moss and lichen had grown over the ancient stones as they stood like sentinels in the marsh. Merlin put a trembling hand on one of the stones. Deep magic thrummed within and he wondered who had erected the circle in this surreal stretch of land. Carefully, Merlin stepped into the stone circle. The ground was no more bog, but solid and grown over with grass and moss. Merlin was grateful as he could walk easily on the ground. He noticed that in the middle of the circle, almost grown over by the moss, lay a huge slab of stone. Standing on that slab, Merlin turned around himself and observed the smaller stones that circled around. Then he looked up into the grey sky. He wondered whom this circle had been built for. Maybe it had been long forgotten, but thick magic still coiled around the stones as they sucked it from the earth and pushed it up into the sky. Like a focal point, the stone circle pulled all magic from the surroundings to themselves and pushed it up in a steady flow. Merlin could feel the pull on his own magic, but at the moment the force was too weak to react.

"I haven't been here in a thousand years."

Merlin whirled around as he heard a voice. His heart skipped a panicked beat as he saw a woman standing right by one of the large stones. Magic was spun over her, around her, and pulsed with her very being. Merlin could barely breathe as he looked at her form. Ice cold fear wrenched at him as he felt that magic on his body. It whispered dark things to him as it prickled over his skin. It tugged at him and sliced over him. Like an upcoming storm, it could rear up and tear him apart. Never had Merlin felt such raw power. The woman watched him through expressionless eyes.

"Emrys," the woman intoned as if she enjoyed his name on her tongue.

She took a step towards Merlin and her magic increased even further. Merlin trembled all over as that terrible magic ripped at him and she laughed. There was only her magic, blazing over everything. Merlin glimpsed a bow, richly decorated, that was strapped to the woman's back. She wore a man's leather armour with strange symbols all over it. It was worn and nicked at places as if she had just stepped from a battle field.

"Why would you call me?"

Her magic filled everything. Merlin's body was painfully taut as he stood in the middle of the stone circle while her magic raged around him. Fear cruelly descended upon him as the woman reached the slab stone and stepped on it. Merlin flinched but couldn't pull his eyes away from her, neither could he move a muscle. Her hair was cut short like a man's. It didn't look unlike Arthur's in fact, but hers was as black as a raven's feather. She had such a face that he couldn't tell how old she was. Maybe thirty. Maybe forty. Maybe older. Much older.

"Why did you call me?" she asked again and this time a dangerous tint laced her voice.

Merlin stared at her, panic clouding his mind, and finally he knew who she truly was. Hastily, without thinking, he fell to his knees and bowed to her. His voice trembled as he whispered,

"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to call upon you."

She laughed again that terrible laugh and her fierce magic washed over Merlin's kneeling form. He barely dared to look up at her. The Goddess now stood just a step away from him and the pressure of her magic was unbearable.

"An accident?" she suggested, sharp edge to her voice. "I don't think so. Maybe it was I who wanted to talk to you."

Her magic coiled around Merlin threateningly and his breathing hitched. With everything that had happened recently and his destiny broken, he suddenly knew why she would want to have words with him. He again bowed, forehead almost touching the stone, and, with the dark shadows of fear crawling all over him, Merlin whispered,

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" the Goddess asked, voice unreadable.

He flinched and replied shakily, "For failing you, my Lady. I m- messed up."

There was a pause in which the Goddess didn't reply. Merlin felt her heavy, unforgiving gaze on him, but never dared to look up at her. Shivers ran all over his body, as he stammered, panicked words gushing out,

"I tried my best and… it wasn't good enough. Nothing has changed. Albion isn't united. M- magic isn't free. It… it's my fault. Arth- The king will never listen to me again. All is lost because of me."

He felt more than saw as the Goddess stepped closer to him. The pressure of her magic increased on him and Merlin knew, if she wanted to, she could effortlessly rip him in two. There would be nothing he could do to stop her. Maybe he'd deserve it anyway. He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling all over, and awaited her verdict.

"The Once and Future King," she said, voice sharp as a knife. "is no longer willing to listen to you?"

Merlin flinched under her harsh question. His fear flowed into his voice and there was nothing he could do to hide it, not from her,

"He h- hates me. I made a stupid mistake and he threw me out. The king will never give audience to me again. P- please, forgive me."

There were fingers brushing over his hair and Merlin shuddered as her powerful magic bristled over him. Carefully, fearfully, he raised his face at her. The Goddess now stood right in front of him and ran her fingers through his hair. Merlin felt trapped in her gaze as her eyes, deep and unfathomable, cut into him.

"He did more than throw you out," the Goddess determined curtly.

Acutely, Merlin was aware of the bruises marring his face as her hard gaze wandered over him. He could still almost feel Arthur's hands on him, painful and punishing.

"He thinks I betrayed him," Merlin said, voice hushed. "T- that I'm a traitor. He won't allow me back."

Her fingers tightened into his hair and Merlin winced as suddenly anger twisted her face. The Goddess was terrible to behold in her fury and he felt his heart racing away in his chest. The sky mirrored her anger, now darkened by clouds. Thunder rumbled threateningly and soon rain pelted down on the land. In a circle around the Goddess the rain reverently left everything dry.

"I- I…" Merlin stammered, fear cutting through him. "I'm sorry."

His words were pathetic in face of her wrath. Her fingers left his hair and Merlin slumped where he knelt. Her voice was dark as the thunder in the air as she whispered,

"I am not angry at you, my child."

His eyes widened in surprise. "W- what? B- but I messed everything up."

The Goddess stood tall and the fury still raged behind her eyes, but now also a small smile curved her lips. A smile that seemed to be for Merlin alone, but he dared not hope.

"You did not," she said softly. Then the ire was back in her tone as she hissed, "It is not you I am enraged over."

Merlin shuddered. The rain fell heavier around them, storm clouds rolling. The Goddess' eyes left him and she stared over her land, alive with her fury. Cold as ice, her voice explained,

"You were a present, Emrys. A present from me to the Once and Future King."

"A p- present?" he asked shily.

Her heavy gaze rested on him again and she said, "Yes. I bestowed upon that king a blessing few ever received. And what did he do with it?" Her jaw tightened in her anger. "He threw it back at my feet, broken and unappreciated. And I take offence."

Merlin swallowed thickly as he saw that fire burning in her, infused into her magic. The land around him, the air, and the rain, it roared with her anger. Her magic crackled around him in a vengeful storm and Merlin was immensely grateful that she kept the force away from him.

"I take offence," she hissed through her teeth. "A human defacing my creation?! How dare he? I will tear him down. I will ravage his lands until there is nothing but ashes and tears. There will be no hiding from my wrath. Not for him. He will regret that he ever insulted me."

Panic rushed through Merlin as he finally realised the target of her fury. Arthur. His hands balled into fists, nails biting into his palms. His lips trembled as he hastily whispered,

"Please, my Lady. Arthur doesn't know of the old ways. He meant no insult to you. He didn't."

Her dark eyes bored into him dangerously. "You defend his deeds?"

Trembling in fear, Merlin bent his head. "N- no, I… Please. He just doesn't know the old Gods. You. I apologize on his behalf, my Lady. Arthur is still a good king – good man – only ignorant in the old ways. Please, don't punish him."

The Goddess paused in her rage and her forehead crinkled slightly with mild surprise. "You would still protect him?"

Quickly, Merlin nodded. "Yes."

The Goddess scanned him, eyes glinting with curiosity. "And what, my child, would you offer to appease my temper?"

"Anything." Without thinking, Merlin opened his mouth and the words fell out, "Anything, my Lady. Take from me what you want. I don't have much to give, but it is yours."

She laughed, then. A sound so pure it made tears spring to his eyes. Merlin licked his chafed lips and said, "Take my magic, take whatever you want. J- just spare Arthur."

"Your magic?" the Goddess inquired, pensively. "You realize that would be like taking your life?"

"I do," Merlin replied, scared but firm.

She contemplated him through her mesmerising eyes. Then she raised her hand and again laid it on Merlin's head. Heavy, her touch rested on him, bristling with magic, and yet he felt the need to lean into it. After a moment of silence, the Goddess spoke up again. Her voice was soft and gentle as she told him,

"I would never take your essence from you, my child. The king, so misguided, so cruel, still means much to you. I can see that now. For you, only for you, Emrys, I shall spare him."

Sweet relief washed over Merlin, leaving him almost light-headed. A smile stretched his mouth and he didn't even care how that made the cut in his lip sting. Still beaming, he gushed,

"Thank you, my Lady. Thank you so much."

She nodded, amused by him, and pulled her hand back. Still, a warning note entered her voice as she replied, "I will spare him, but make no mistake, I will no longer hold my hand over him either. The king does no longer have my blessing. The present I have given, I now take back."

A confused frown appeared on Merlin's face. "M- my Lady?"

The Goddess arched an elegant eyebrow at him and replied severely, "You, Emrys, are no longer bound to him. You are free to do as you please. From this day forth, the king shall not have any hold over you anymore."

Magic was spun around her words and as she spoke them, the magic coiled around Merlin himself. He could feel the magic as it cut something in two. A soft gasp left him and a bond was severed. It pained him, but then her magic soothed over him, gently caressing that pain away.

With wide eyes Merlin blinked up at the Goddess, shock paralysing his whole being. The coin with two sides was no longer and he felt strangely alone. The Goddess sent him a soft smile. So many questions rushed through Merlin's head, but he found he couldn't voice any one of them. Something deep had just happened and he had no idea what ripples this would generate. The Goddess turned around and made to leave. Without thinking, Merlin pleaded,

"Wait."

The Goddess turned around to him again and eyed him expectantly. He could barely breathe and bowed deep to her. Voice meek, he whispered,

"I wanted to thank you, my Lady."

"What for?" came her voice.

"F- for listening to me," he stammered, blushing fiercely. "For forgiving me."

Even lower he bowed and this time he felt the rough stone against his forehead. His voice was no more than a whisper and he was sure she wouldn't hear him as he said,

"For not hurting me."

He gasped as there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him up. With wide eyes he looked at her. The Goddess crouched in front of him, so close that her magic blinded him.

"My child," she whispered. "I can be gentle and I can be vicious. But to you, never cruel."

She bent forward and Merlin's whole body stiffened as she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Instantly, the pain left him. The pain from the bruises on his face, the broken ribs in his side, and the arrow wound, his broken arm, it left him. He could barely breathe as the Goddess stood up again. She had no further words for him. Merlin watched in stunned silence as she left the stone slab. In a few steps she reached the stone circle and as she passed the stones, her form simply disappeared. It was as if she had never been there at all. Suddenly, Merlin could feel the rain on his body. Her presence gone, she no longer shielded him and the cold rain drops ran down his skin.

For a long moment, Merlin just sat in the rain, in the middle of the stone circle. Her magic lingered and still danced over him. The dark clouds above him roiled and spat out icy water. It made him shudder. The cold crept into him and finally Merlin took in a sharp breath of air. With force, he pulled himself away from the Goddess' magic. His knees hurt as he finally stood up. Shivering with the old, he stumbled over to one of the huge stones. Old age had pushed it to the side, so that right beneath it was a dry spot that the cold rain would not reach. Merlin huddled against the ancient stone. With numb fingers, he pulled a few twigs from the heather around him and piled them up.

"Forbearnan," he whispered.

(Burn.)

Like his broken body, it seemed, his magic had been healed as well. It happily jumped to obey and instantly flames danced around the wood and Merlin sighed at the warmth they emanated. Exhaustion grasping at him, he leaned with his back against the stone and let the fire's warmth seep into his front. His fingers trembled slightly as he raised them to his face. Carefully, he prodded at his split lip. The stinging pain wasn't there anymore and the skin smoothed over. His bruises were gone. He ran a finger over his left forearm. The cruel pain there was gone as well and a small smile curled Merlin's lips.

"Thank you," he whispered as he tiredly closed his eyes.

With the ancient stones watching over him and her magic still filling the air, Merlin finally fell into a deep sleep where no nightmares could follow.

.+.

Arthur could find no sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed. The trackers had come back empty-handed. They had caught up with the sorcerer, but he had slipped away yet again. Arthur groaned and rolled on his side. He hated himself for that tiny twinge of relief as the trackers had relayed the news. Arthur should not feel relieved that a sorcerer had escaped justice. Those golden eyes still haunted his thoughts, so abnormal and disgusting. He felt sick to the core when he thought how deep the depravity had twisted into his kingdom.

Abruptly, Arthur stood up from his bed. Rubbing a hand through his golden hair, he stepped over to the window. He opened it and let the night's cold air wash over his body. Arthur's eyes fell shut and he sucked in a deep breath. Then he leaned with his elbows on the sill and looked out the window. The moon was waning but still bright up in the dark sky.

Why?

The question still spooked through Arthur's head. Why had Merlin, of all people, studied magic? When had he started? How powerful was he? Arthur sucked in a deep breath of air as trepidation crept over him. He had allowed that sorcerer so close to his wife. If he had hurt Guinevere, that would've been Arthur's fault, because he once again had been too daft to see the danger right in front of him. Luckily, Guinevere was unhurt. Instead, the sorcerer had taken Agravaine's life.

With a shaking hand, Arthur closed the window again. Then he weakly sat on his bed. In all likelihood, Merlin probably wasn't a very powerful sorcerer. If he were, why would he have spent his time as Arthur's servant? No, Morgana had shown them all what a truly powerful magic-user would do with the power at their disposal. Anger cut through Arthur. Maybe this was also Morgana's doing. She had seduced Merlin with promises of power, because Merlin was close to the king. And Merlin had fallen for it. Now he was lost. Just like Morgana.

A knock at the door startled Arthur from his musings. He only now noticed how the first rays of a rising sun already shone through the window.

"Yes?"

The door was pushed open and in stepped Percival. There was a grave look on the other man's face and Arthur almost didn't want to know what had happened now.

"Percival," he said. "Is anything amiss?"

The knight shuffled a bit closer to Arthur. The king frowned as the tall man now offered him what seemed to be a carefully folded red cloth. Arthur stood up and accepted the fabric, confused frown on his face. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a cloak of one of the Camelot's knights.

"What's the meaning of this?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

Percival sighed. Voice soft, the replied, "I was going to get in an early training session today, Sire. I wanted to ask Gwaine to join me." He stopped and his face crumbled and pain entered his tone as he continued, "I- I went to his chambers. And found them empty. Only his cloak was there."

"What…?"

Arthur stared down at the red cloak in his hands, apprehension bubbling up in him. Percival swallowed thickly. Then he whispered,

"He left."

.+.