Chapter 5

Elyan cast his gaze over the stalls of the market, waiting for Leon to finish buying a week's worth of smoked and salted meat. Not that it was going to actually last that long, with the appetites of a few people in the group. But it was enough to make up the rest of what they had already bought in the last half hour.

The dark-skinned knight noticed that there were few beggars on these streets. Everyone was dressed respectably, even if the quality of their clothing wasn't any better than that of the small villages and hamlets of Camelot. It gave the village a certain charm, which either resulted in or was the result of the numerous smiles cast in his direction. The hello's and 'good afternoon's of the salesmen and women were ever chipper as the time slowly passed them by.

The market was a hub of activity despite the fact it was well past midday and the afternoon was wearing on. The vendors' calls offering competitive deals to attract customers rang through the square. Laughter echoed behind him as a young courting couple passed, arm in arm and barely paying attention to anyone but each other. A horse whinnied somewhere nearby, catching the attention of the mares standing obediently with Elyan. One of the mares tossed her head and nudged Elyan's back playfully, no doubt knowing the whinny had been from a horse unknown to her. The knight turned to stroke his horse's neck, calming her again with a few whispered words.

"What else do we need?" Leon asked as he rejoined Elyan, startling the other man from his thoughts.

"Just cloaks and a few shirts…At least one for Gwaine, anyway," Elyan replied, handing the reins of Leon's horse to his friend once the food had been packed into one of the saddle bags. They had all been smart enough to take a spare change of clothes, but that left Gwaine without a spare shirt. It was always better to be safe than sorry, so they had decided to add a shirt to their list as a necessary expense.

Leon nodded, stepping back as a group of small children ran past them, chased by a dog that was barking and wagging its tail joyfully. A huddle of adults deep in discussion trailed after the screaming children, sparing cautious glances to their offspring every couple of seconds.

Looking around for a seamstress or clothing stall, unable to find either in the immediate area, Leon opted for a sure fire way of being sure they headed in the right direction.

"Excuse me," he began, smiling politely, placing a gentle hand on an older woman's shoulder to catch her attention before she was out of reach. She blinking up at him owlishly, obviously suspicious at being stopped by a stranger in the middle of the market but not so suspicious as to brush him off and walk away. She may have been able to actually help him. "Could you tell me where my friend and I could purchase new cloaks?" Leon enquired.

A smile spread across the woman face almost before the newcomer had finished speaking. Her green eyes shone with motherly affection at the careful, almost uncertain tone Leon had used, and she brushed pale locks of loose curls from her face.

"Of course, dear!" She nodded, turning to indicate further down the market row, hefting her wicker basket higher on her hip so that it was easier to carry. "Take the right after the bakery and it's just on your left."

"Thank you." Leon and Elyan nodded their heads in turn, tugging gently on the reins in their hands so the horses would know to follow.

"It's no problem," the woman replied, giving them a nod in return and going back to her own shopping.

As she had said, the seamstress was just down the side street after the bakery. It was an equally bustling street, but there were no stalls here; only houses that were used as trade points. There was a library occupying the ground floor of one house, an apothecary in the basement of the house next to it, and the ground floor of the house opposite the apothecary was used to buy and sell textiles and clothing, as well as offering repairs for both –the seamstress'. Many more houses-turned-businesses lined the street. Elyan handed his reins to Leon and went in search of the last items that they needed.

It was darker inside than it had been in the market and Elyan took a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust. Several candles lit the room from strategic positions on the walls, where the light from the candelabra hanging from the ceiling couldn't reach.

"Good afternoon, Sir," came a young girl's voice from a door that must have lead to the back of the house –possibly the kitchen, if the smells wafting through the shop were anything to go by. "How can I be of service?" she asked, almost hesitantly.

The girl that stood in the doorway was small, barely reaching Elyan's elbow in height, but she was surely older than the ten years her appearance suggested. That, or the wisdom and maturity in her wide eyes was begotten of a life of hardship that she may or may not still be a part of.

"I need a shirt," Elyan answered, nodding, careful to keep his voice soft and friendly as he turned to look around the shop properly. As bookshelves would line the walls of a library, open-faced wardrobes lined the edges of the shop Elyan now stood in. A few stands displayed coordinated outfits for both men and women; the latest fashions that had reached this part of Mercia, most likely. Luckily, he spotted that there were three such wardrobes filled with cloaks, but first things were first.

"Any particular cut or colour?" the girl inquired, striding confidently over to the other side of the room and beckoning for the young man to follow. She drew a stool up to stand on and pulled a few items from the rack. "Is it for you, or another? Your brother, perhaps? Or a female friend? I know a few of the unwed women are into that style of dress," she continued, pulling samples off of the rack to show Elyan. Her smile was dazzling as she grinned teasingly at Elyan, catching the man off-guard.

The girl seemed to have gone from meek and subservient to confident and cheeky in the time it took her to cross the room. Her eyes were green and her hair was fair, falling in gentle waves down her back, and with a jolt he realised that she bore a striking resemblance to the woman that Leon had asked directions from. Well this wasa convenient coincidence...

As the girl tilted her head and rose an expectant eyebrow (and looking so much like Arthur that Elyan almost burst out laughing), he shook himself back to the present and smiled in return.

"It's for a friend," he replied, feeling the blush in his cheeks as he realised that she'd been inadvertently asking if he was buying for his girlfriend.

~#~

Arthur's eyes snapped open as the sounds of someone approaching through the trees drifted over to him on the almost nonexistent breeze. He may have been half asleep, but he was well aware of what was going on around him as Gwaine muttered something under his breath about 'almost being at the border by now,' his mood obviously still sour.

The sounds came closer and they both sat alert, hands flying to the hilts of their swords. Arthur moved so he was ready to jump to his feet if it wasn't who they thought it was, but Gwaine knew he would probably just fall over if he tried to get up that quickly and so stayed where he was. He could fight well enough from a crouch if Arthur didn't kill them first. Whoever it was, was almost in sight, and the pair looked to each gap in the trees; their eyes darting back and forth.

A crash and muffled 'Ow'that was quickly followed by a chuckle caused them to relax and smile.

"What was it this time? Thin air?" Arthur called, using the joke to tell Percival and Merlin that he knew they were there, the amusement obvious in his voice.

Percival emerged from the thicket of trees with a wide smile on his face, the deer he shot earlier slung over his shoulder. Merlin stumbled out behind him, practically falling all over himself as he fumbled with the crossbow. He seemed to have caught it, but it slipped from his fingers again and hit the forest floor with a soft thud. It was a little melodramatic, even for Merlin, but none of them thought anything of it. After all, this was Merlin.

"Did you put your shoes on the wrong feet this morning?" Gwaine kidded, grinned at his friend.

The young warlock rolled his eyes. "No," he pouted, going to put the crossbow away (he fiddled with it for a few moments as if he'd forgotten how to put it away properly) before sitting between Arthur and Gwaine. Starting to prepare the stew for their evening meal, the manservant hummed absently under his breath.

By sitting between the two men, Merlin visibly reduced the tension, oblivious to the apologetic half-smiles being exchanged behind his back.

What none of them noticed was how the forest had slowly started to come back to life around them, the birdsongs erupting from the trees more frequently as the shadows seemed to lift and allow more light to filter through to the forest floor. The animals seemed to sense that the shadows had started to dissipate, and they became more active as they left their hiding places and went back to their lives.

"Are your hands all right now?" Percival asked as he prepared the deer.

"Huh?" Merlin blinked at him in confusion. Arthur and Gwaine looked a little startled as they stared at Merlin, looking him over for injuries.

"You fell and grazed your hands pretty badly back there. Don't think I didn't notice," the normally unobtrusive member of the knights insisted in a rare moment of voiced concern.

"Oh," Merlin frowned, bringing his hands a little closer to himself, trying to draw attention away from the unmarked flesh on his palms. "No, they're fine," he said, shaking his head a little to figuratively wave off his friends' concern.

"You could at least let one of us have a look, mate," Gwaine offered.

"So you can do what?" Merlin laughed. "I'm the only one here with any real medical knowledge. It's fine, seriously. Doesn't even hurt anymore," he defended with a wide smile, dusting his hands off on his trousers as if to make a point.

Neither of them believed him, but neither did they pursue the subject. Arthur figured that if Percival had been concerned enough to bring up the fact Merlin had hurt himself when he fell, then it must have been bad enough for the idiot to moan and whine about under normal circumstances. Instead, Merlin was brushing them off with a smile that didn't light up his eyes in the way they were so used to seeing.

Percival was simply very confused by the change in behaviour of their friend, whereas Gwaine turned his eyes to the other knight and wondered if something elsehad happened that he was hiding from them. Both Arthur and Gwaine decided that they would have to ask Percival later, when Merlin wasn't around.

~#~

The venison was cooking under Merlin's watchful eye as Gwaine regaled them with the tale of how he was set upon by a tavern full of drunkards and how he had come out on top, despite being just as intoxicated as everybody else when Leon and Elyan returned.

"Hey!" Gwaine cheered as he lifted a hand in greeting.

"Did you get what we need?" Arthur asked, glad that his friends were okay. Not that he'd been worried. No, of course not.

"Yes," Leon answered, sliding from his saddle and removing the saddle bags so that the weight didn't bother his horse during the night. Elyan followed suit, taking Leon's bag with his own, and he piled them with everyone else's packs near Gwaine.

"There's food enough for a week, at least, and new cloaks that should allow us to blend in easier—and a shirt for Gwaine," Elyan elaborated before Leon had chance to. He pulled said shirt from the top of one of his packs as he spoke, throwing it at Gwaine.

Not expecting anything to be thrown at him, Gwaine spluttered in surprise when the shirt hit him squarely in the face. "Oi!" he exclaimed indignantly as he pulled the shirt down into his lap. Gwaine levelled a glare at Elyan, but the young man just laughed and joined everyone around the fire.

Silence reined over the camp after that, and with a jolt Arthur realised why. Merlin wasn't laughing. The look of indignation and near mortification on Gwaine's face had almost made Arthur laugh, but certainly would have had Merlin gleefully taking jabs at his friend every two seconds. And as he did so, Arthur thought, he would have been grinning widely in that idiotic way of his, his eyes filled with genuine mirth. The boy's easy going nature, wit and sense of humour were most of the things that kept the knights in good spirits on long quests such as these.

Arthur didn't notice as Elyan started telling them about the girl from the seamstress' shop that had indirectly teased him almost from the moment he stepped into the shop. Instead, he watched his friends, particularly Merlin and Percival. His posture wasn't tense enough to give himself away – they were hisknights and manservant, after all, and they would notice if he was too guarded about himself – but his eyes were keen and his hand rested near the hilt of his sword. The last precaution could be considered normal, however. Having his hand on his weapon reassured Arthur that he could find a way out of any situation, by force or otherwise.

Something was going on here and the King did not like being out of the loop. The last time he didn't know about something happening right under his nose had been when his uncle had betrayed him and Camelot to Morgana. Actually, it had been the surprise birthday party everyone had thrown him earlier that year, he recalled. But that didn't count…even though everyone had been acting rather suspiciously towards him the whole week leading up to his party.

~#~~#~

Water splashed over his face and Merlin sat up quickly, sputtering and gasping for breath. He feared that he would drown if he did not get oxygen into his lungs immediately. His head spun, but he stayed sitting up.

Except that there was no more water. What had landed on his face was barely enough to fill a single cup.

"Huh?" he groaned, slumping back onto the wall he had been lay against. His head stopped its infernal spinning when it had more support than the boy's own determination not to lie back down, and Merlin saw the woman leaning over him with a look of concern on her face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, blinking her wide eyes at him in a display of innocence.

"Yeah'm fine," Merlin muttered, slurring his speech a little. He didn't even know why. His head was clearing and he didn't feel particularly tired or even injured. Maybe it was just the fact he had been woken in a cave he had never seen before, with a woman he had never met, with not a hair nor hide of Arthur and the knights anywhere.

Not again…

"You sure?" the girl pressed, obviously concerned. Looking up at her and wondering why she would care so much, Merlin took in her features, noting that her hair was dark – not black, but a very deep brown –and her eyes were grey, almost white with how light they were. A dark ring around the colour of her eyes made it unnerving to keep eye contact for too long, and the warlock found himself studying the freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. And an elegant nose it was, he found himself thinking.

"Yes," Merlin insisted, shaking himself out of where those kinds of thoughts would lead him. His voice grew stronger with the sudden annoyance that rose within him. Two years and there had been nothing. Why did They choose nowto make a move? Whoever Theywere.

Merlin's thoughts whirred around inside his head, threatening him with a headache until he pushed them away and got to his feet, brushing past the girl on his way to the entrance of the cave. It wasn't large, not nearly big enough to comfortably fit the party of knights he had been travelling with, but it was comfortable for two or three people to spend a night in. It was dry and well sheltered by the trees outside; hard to find if you didn't know it was there.

"Where are you going?" She caught up to him easily, keeping stride with Merlin and clasping her hands behind her back. It reminded the warlock of his mentor and he groaned. Gaius was going to kill him.

"I need to find my friends," Merlin responded automatically. "They're going to be wondering where I've gone." No doubt Arthur's worried, he added to himself, hoping that Percival hadn't been blamed for his disappearance – not even Merlin had been able to tell that anyone was there until it was beyond too late.

"No you don't."

Merlin stopped in his tracks, frowning as he turned back to the girl. She had stopped walking a couple of seconds before and was a good three or so yards from the black-haired boy. "What?"

She stepped forwards with deliberate slowness, taking her time and not breaking eye contact. The slight smile was gone and while her eyes were still wide, they were filled with malice. Merlin shivered.

"You won't go after them," she told him. Her voice was soft, but confident and self-assured, sounding for a moment like Arthur, in one of his many'I'm-not-angry-at-you-yet-but-if-you-don't-follow-my-orders-I-will-make-you-regret-it'moods.

"Why? Because you're going to stop me?" Merlin asked. Even as he spoke, his back straightened and his chin rose. The warlock's voice told her that he was not always the bumbling servant he appeared to be at first and that she should not challenge his loyalties.

"Yes," she smiled.

They hadn't made it out of the cave yet, and as the girl's eyes flashed gold, a sinking feeling erupted in Merlin's stomach. Actually, no, that was just him being propelled up into the air, his back slamming into the roof of the cave before he dropped like a dead weight to the dusty floor below.

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