A/N Hi! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Like many people, I am bound to the whims of the entity known as life, and it's not getting any less busy. I can't make any promises as to when the next chapter will be out, as I am currently also working on my 2022 Merlin Bingo prompts at the same time, as well as fitting all of it into my busy schedule. However, I can promise you that I haven't forgotten about this fic, however for the next couple of weeks my writing will take a backseat.
Enjoy!

For what was probably the umpteenth time that day, Merlin tried to burn a hole through Arthur's chainmail. It wasn't enough that he had spent the last week going back and forth between doing chores for the royal prat, and double the usual amount for Gaius (although Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with their conversation the other week), plus trying to avoid Prince Balinor, but noooooo, he just had to drag Merlin along on a hunt.

Of course, usually this entailed Merlin, Arthur and just the knights, so Merlin could be as annoying and complain as much as was possible. This, unfortunately, was not possible today. No, Merlin had to suffer in silence all because of their guests. So, Merlin had taken to glaring at Arthur, in the hopes that his cloak would catch fire, and they would all be forced to go home.

That was until the bandit attack.

It was always the bandits.

Slipping behind a tree, Merlin surveyed the battle scene, watching and waiting in case his help was needed.

There! Merlin focusses his gaze on the bandit creeping up on Princess Rayna, feeling the rush of magic flow through him as the bandit trips and falls on his own sword, surprising the princess. It was better she was slightly surprised then dead. Merlin didn't want that to be on Arthur's consciousness.

The battle continues, the bandits still coming, and… how many are there?

Merlin had been using his magic continuously since that first bandit, and although it wasn't draining in any way, he could see that the others' strength was waning, and fast.

Then , the sorcerers appeared.

They weren't anything flashy, dressed in drab colours, but there was a sinister air to them, and Merlin felt his magic curl in on itself. These sorcerers weren't like Prince Balinor. Their magic was cold, and felt sluggish and thick, like an oozing infection. It felt sick and slimy, and Merlin felt like he was going to throw up.

He was feeling so woozy that he didn't notice when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him away, yelling his name, as he stumbled after them deeper into the woods, and to his utter horror, closer to the Valley of the Fallen Kings.

No, no, no, no… he wanted to cry out, to pull his arm away from the knight, to run in the opposite direction, but by then it was too late, they had plunged deep into the belly of the beast.

Merlin retched, shivering as his body relieved him of the small breakfast he had had that morning, as Balinor and three of the Deaestidrian knights looked on.

Finally, when his body had rid him of everything, he stumbled to his feet, and a water pouch was gently shoved into his face, and a gruff voice spoke, "You should drink something."

Hand shaking, Merlin reached out to take it, still feeling slightly sick.

He could feel the knights' eyes on him, could feel the way that they were having silent conversation with Balinor.

Oh, Gaius was going to be so disappointed!

Never before had Merlin revealed his magic to so many people at any one time. He felt like he was going to be sick again, his stomach rebelling against him.

"You alright there kid? We should probably keep moving."

Merlin looked up at the knight, and took a shaky step backwards. He needed to get out of here, needed to get away from them, needed to find Arthur.

"Merlin," a hand on his shoulder, warm and comforting, and yet he still flinched at the sudden pressure. "Breathe, Merlin, breathe. No one here is going to reveal your secret."

Merlin looked up into the calming eyes of the prince, blinking slightly as he felt a wave of magic course over him. This… was nice. He looked over to see the three knights looking at both of them, confusion evident in their faces as they looked between Merlin and Balinor. The knight who had spoken to Merlin before, Hywell, he remembered, was looking at the two of them like he had just realised something, but as soon as he saw Merlin look over at him, his facial expressions shut down, replaced by a wide grin, and twinkling eyes, winking at Merlin.

"Merlin, are you alright to continue?"

Merlin stood up fully, turning his attention back to Balinor, shaking himself slightly to clear his head.

"I think so?"

The prince simply raised his eyebrow, before sighing, turning back to the three knights, signalling for them to continue.

"So, how did you end up becoming a manservant to King Arthur?"

The lady knight in front of them groaned, turning back to where Merlin was being interrogated by, who Merlin had learnt was her younger brother.

"Hywell, leave the poor boy alone. He's just had his first experience with the Dædscúa, give him a break."

"The what?"

It takes Merlin a few seconds to realise that everyone else has stopped, coming to a halt himself.

He turned to look at Sir Hywell, who looked like he was choking, before turning to look at the three others, Balinor, Caradoc and Nasyra, all three of them with their eyebrows raised in the same fashion, which would have been funny if he himself wasn't so confused.

"You mean to tell me, you, a powerful magic user, have never heard of the Dædscúa?"

Merlin gulped slightly, turning to face the suddenly irate lady.

"I- No? Should I have?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Merlin had slowly been warming up to them, but now? Now he felt like an outsider, and he was once again reminded that he would never really fit in with these people, no matter how much he was coming to find he enjoyed their company.

"Boy," the prince's voice was gruff, as he stared at Merlin, a flicker of emotion in his eyes, which Merlin couldn't decipher. "The Dædscúa are a dark group of magic users, most notably known for being assassins. No one who was on their hit list has ever lived to tell the tale. And because of their magic, they are almost impossible to catch. The fact that they are here in Camelot doesn't bode well for anyone."

"Oh," Merlin whispered, heart pounding in his chest. What if their target was Arthur? And, oh no, he had no idea where Arthur was, and what of the other knights as well? His friends? They were sworn to protect Arthur as knights, Merlin didn't know what would happen if he lost them as well. He needed to find them, needed to make sure that they were all alright, he needed to, needed to…

"Hey, kid?"

Merlin blinked, Hywell's hand in front of his face, concern written over his face. Merlin flushed, smiling apologetically at the others, the prince looking mildly concerned, Lady Nasyra frowning to herself, and the other knight, Hywell and Nasyra's brother, Caradoc, was silent as well.

"Sorry, guess I'm just worried for my friends. Usually when we face off against magical foes I at least know I'm there to protect their backs. Even if they don't."

That caused a few raised eyebrows, the three siblings and the prince each giving each other weighted glances, communicating something to each other which Merlin couldn't even begin to understand.

"Merlin," Merlin took a step back, surprised when Caradoc finally spoke, his voice slightly gravelly. "The Dædscúa only go after magic users. It's their speciality, to kill the otherwise unkillable."

Relief washed over Merlin, offering up a small smile before the implications of their stares hit.

Oh.

Oh.

For the second time that day, Merlin felt completely and utterly stumped. Stumbling back slightly, he collapsed on the nearest rock as the information sunk in.

Once again he was aware of the four adults having a silent conversation, but his head was whirling with too much information to care. This was a completely different situation than what he was used to.

Usually the assassins came after Arthur, not him. Never him… unless they weren't after him.

"How do we know that they're after me? For all we know, they could be after you, Prince Balinor."

And there was that silent communication again.

Balinor shook his head gently, placing a hand on Merlin's knee as he came to sit by him on the rock.

"They marked you, Merlin," he said, his face softening with pity. "That sick feeling that you got, that was them trying to tear your magic from you body, to not just weaken you, but to ultimately kill you. It is a horrible piece of dark magic, which is why no one wants to go after them. The only people who can stop them are magic users themselves, but when your enemy has the ability to take away the one thing that could defeat them…"

Balinor trailed off, watching as it all sunk in. Merlin could feel nothing but the sinking horror in the pit of his stomach as a wave of iciness crashed over him. This was worse, far worse than what he had been expecting.

"No wonder no one has lived to tell the tale," he whispered, slightly in shock. They were after him. Him!

"Merlin," Merlin's head snapped up at the sound of Sir Caradoc's voice. "Is there any reason that they would go after you? It is top pr-"

"Caradoc, leave the poor boy alone," Hywell cried out, cutting off his brother. "He's been through enough today already, he doesn't need you interrogating him on top of that."

"As I was about to say, Hywell, before you interrupted, it is our top priority to protect Prince Balinor, if Merlin is in any way a danger to Balinor's safety, we have a right to know."

Merlin winced. He could think of one reason why this Dædscúa group would be after him. But he didn't know if he could trust the Deaestidrians or even if he wanted to share his burden of being Emrys with them. He wasn't even quite sure that they would believe him.

Are you alright, Merlin?"

He blinked owlishly at Nasyra, her head cocked to one side, voice soft as her brothers fought in the background.

"As alright as I can be with a deadly group of magical assassins after me."

She nodded, as if this was the answer she was expecting. Merlin flashed her a nervous grin as she turned away, her head suddenly flashing back towards him for a second, frow burrowing before she shook her head and turned to watch her brothers with a sigh.

"- we don't even know if we can trust him, Hywell!"

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

The roaring book sent the leaves on the trees quivering, wind picking up around them as the two brothers turned to look at Balinor.

"I understand your concern for my safety, Caradoc, but I cannot just agree with you Hywell," Balinor turned back to Merlin, who had to stop himself from flinching under the prince's sudden intense gaze. "I'm sorry, Merlin. However, Caradoc is also right. Is there any reason, any reason at all that you can think of as to why the Dædscúa would come after you?"

All eyes were on Merlin, and his heartbeat sped up of its own volition, his hands feeling tacky as he slightly tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"Well…" could he do this? Could he truly trust these people, people he barely knew, with what was probably his most important secret yet? "I… yes?"

A growl emitted from Caradoc's throat, "Just answer the damn question, boy."

"Caradoc," Nasyra glared at him, in tandem with Balinor's warning cough.

"Merlin, whatever your reason, I can promise, on behalf of myself, and my knights that this knowledge will not go further than us. Whatever it is, we want to help."

Merlin stared at the prince and each of his knights in turn. He knew that what Balinor had just said was true, but trusting them wasn't really the problem. The problem was Merlin never having told anyone about his secrets before. The people who had known, or now knew had seen Merlin use magic in front of them.

"That's not the problem, Prince Balinor," Merlin whispered, feeling very much like he was disappointing him, although he had no idea why. "I-I've never told anyone before. My magic was always something I've been told to guard with my life, or it would be my life. And… it's not an easy habit to break… keeping secrets. I've had to do it my entire life to survive. It's not something… which comes easy."

When he looked up at their faces, Merlin didn't see what he was expecting. He was expecting disapproval, maybe a raised eyebrow, or a frown on their faces. Instead, he saw sympathy, a deep-rooted pain in each of their faces. A feeling of warmth filled Merlin, and for once, he felt like he was accepted, like he finally belonged somewhere. Years ago, Arthur had asked him whether he had found a place he could fit in. Merlin might just have that answer. Yes. Merlin could trust these people.

"It doesn't matter, whatever your secret is…" the prince trailed off, understanding in his eyes as he smiled at Merlin. "What you need right now is tutelage. When you come face to face with the Dædscúa next time, you need to know the spell to counteract them trying to tear your magic from you. It won't hold them off forever, but it should be able to hold them off of you long enough for someone to get you help."

Balinor held out his hand, a clear indication of trust. Merlin stared at it. This was the second time that the prince was offering to tutor him in magic. Could he, should he take it?

What was it that Lancelot had said though? Something along the lines of seeing what the prince's intentions were? Well, Merlin had seen enough. Enough to paint a picture of Balinor's character.

Decision settled, Merlin accepted Balinor's hand.