Thank you so much for the support and reviews on the first chapter, it means a lot.

Merlin huddled miserably under a tree, the leafy canopy above his head doing nothing to stop the rain hitting him and trickling down the back of his shirt. He was cold, wet and hungry, not to mention exhausted. He thought that he had done so well when he had told the bandits that he was joining them, truly believing the fact that because they knew about his magic, and had even been on the receiving end of his power, they would accept him. They wouldn't see him as just as skinny child who wanted to find his place in the world, but someone that could make a difference.

Unfortunately, despite the hardships of growing up in a poor village and having very little, Merlin had led a sheltered life. He didn't quite appreciate that these men already had everything that they wanted, or contemplate the fact that they might not be working alone. He simply had no idea that he had just offered himself up to them to use as they wish.

Yet that was precisely what they did. Harg and Dantor had him cooking, cleaning their swords, boots, clothes – anything they could get their hands on. He even had to spend an entire night polishing some of their gold, even though he practically rubbed his hands raw in the process. Whilst they took turns in getting sleep – one of them always staying on watch – Merlin had to prepare their food, collect more firewood and water and to keep the fire burning throughout the night. Three days since he had run away, and yet he had managed to catch no more than a few hours sleep. The only food they had allowed him to have was what he could scrape out of the pot when they had finished eating. After only a day, Merlin had tried to leave, but Harg had caught up with him in just a few steps. The man had backhanded him so hard that Merlin had felt his ears ring for hours afterwards, and just like any other frightened child would do, he hadn't even thought of using magic, but had just agreed to do what they told him in order to make sure that he didn't get hurt again. He hadn't tried to leave either.

The day was spent walking through the forest, carrying as much of their gear as his small body could handle. Eventually, he had been forced to allow his magic to lighten the load slowly, but Dantor had seen his eyes flash and in retaliation, had hoisted another bag onto his screaming shoulders, almost causing his knees to buckle where he was standing. The only time that they had actually told him to use his magic was when the sound of men shouting could be heard coming from somewhere behind them on the second day.

Wildly wondering whether it was the villagers looking for him and whether they would be able to take him home, Merlin had frozen before opening his mouth in order to call back. Harg, who was as quick as he was strong, had seen the movement and been behind Merlin before he could even take a deep breath in. Immediately, the bandit's hand was clamped over Merlin's mouth and it took him no effort at all to hold the boy against him, hissing in his ear that Merlin was to stay quiet. Initially, the boy-warlock had struggled, trying to push away Harg's hand and crying out slightly. But when he realised it simply made the man tighten his grip, he fell still, tears spilling from his eyes and trickling miserably down his face.

Harg seemed to realise that Merlin's defiance had morphed into fear and he let go of the boy, placing his hands on his shoulders and spinning him around until they were face to face.

"Hide our tracks. Use that magic of yours that has landed you in this situation and make sure that we can't be traced. If I see so much as a footprint on the ground, I'll plant that same footprint on your backside, understand?" Merlin had squeaked his agreement and let the power roll off him. He had no idea what he was doing, whether it truly was removing their tracks, but considering nothing could be seen around them, Harg had seemed satisfied.

Shifting slightly as he thought back on the last few days, the thirteen year old had to bite his lip in order to stop himself from crying out. He had no idea where he was, or how to get away from these men. He had picked up enough from what he had overheard to know that they were heading towards a larger camp in order to join up with some more of the bandits that roamed the forest. Years ago, he might have found the idea of being with a large group of bandits as being something thrilling, but now, he was terrified.

Harg was the one on watch that night, and he leered unpleasantly over at the huddled boy.

"You did bring this upon yourself, brat." He sneered, and Merlin simply focused on making himself as small as possible. In the few hours that he had managed to grab some sleep, it had been filled with vivid dreams about overcoming his fear and turning the pair of them into toads or something equally as harmless and making them fully aware of who they were dealing with. But only being thirteen meant he tended to have a disadvantage. Not only physically, but mentally as well. Merlin didn't truly understand how his magic worked, and when he saw Dantor's hand coming to rest on the hilt of his knife, or Harg casually trailing a whip over his shoulder as if it was an everyday occurrence, fear paralysed his magic and he could do nothing but agree to whatever they asked of him.

"That's what you get for showing off a power like yours." Harg continued, not seeming to notice that Merlin had sunk down the tree in order to hug his knees to his chest in an attempt to get warm. "People want to use it. You've done such a good job at hiding our tracks and carrying everything, we simply don't want to let you go again. Maybe when you are older, and we are sure where your loyalties lie, we'll let you properly help. But right now, boy, you just have to do what you are told."

Merlin didn't reply, but buried his head in his folded arms. If he shut his eyes, he could once again bring forth the image in his mind of when he had sent Harg flying, when he hadn't been simply a scared child, but a magical being protecting his mother. The thought helped to warm him a little and he smiled into the darkness of his folded arms. He refused to think about Harg's words implying that Merlin wasn't going to be leaving them any time soon.

Harg seemed to realise that Merlin was not going to answer him and he just chuckled darkly, leaving the boy curled up at the foot of the tree. Merlin immediately tried to take advantage of the fact that he hadn't been given a job to do or told to move, so let his body relax. Despite how uncomfortable and afraid he was, it took him no time at all to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

He wasn't sure whether he sensed the presences close to him, or whether he just overheard the two bandits talking, but Merlin found that instead of awakening slowly, he jolted himself back into consciousness. Uncurling himself, Merlin looked up only to flinch as he realised that Dantor had his fist raised. On seeing that the boy was awake, he lowered it again with a disappointed sigh even as Harg laughed.

"On your feet, boy. We should arrive at the main camp by midday." Merlin slowly stood up, wincing as his body protested against the position he had been sleeping in. He let his hands drift behind him, clinging onto the tree to make sure that he stayed upright and therefore didn't give them a reason to do anything. Harg walked off, and Dantor nodded pointedly to where their belongings were strewn around the fire.

"You have five minutes." He growled, and Merlin didn't even think what he was doing, but instead, dived forward. For a good few moments, he scrambled around on his hands and knees, trying to pull everything into reach. He almost made it as well, hoisting the whole lot into his arms in a completely haphazard way and then beginning to climb to his feet unsteadily. He might have made it upright with still holding the lot if Dantor hadn't nudged him in the back. All it took was that one touch and Merlin immediately let go of everything that he was holding, sending it crashing back down to the ground and causing an even bigger mess than it had been before.

"Time's almost up." Dantor commented, and Merlin felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn't want to know why Dantor had given him a time, or what the consequence would be if he didn't meet it. Instantly, he dropped back to his knees and tried to pick things up, fully aware that he was making himself look like a fool as he was doing it. Reaching out for a stray cooking pot, Merlin snarled slightly as Dantor used his foot to nudge it out of his reach.

He didn't even think about what he was doing. The humiliation of the last few days coupled with the fact that he was hungry and scared meant that his magic had been kept on edge for the whole time, only his fear holding it back from lashing out. But now that Dantor had just added a dose of frustration into that, Merlin found that he could no longer hold back.

He had no idea what he was doing. Only he could feel the power accumulating behind his eyes and knew without having to see that they were slowly changing colour, becoming a burning gold. He had used his magic only a handful of times properly in his life and it was only through other people telling him that this happened that he was even aware of it. But he saw Dantor take a step backwards and knew that it was obvious he was using magic. He turned his blazing glare onto the belongings that had just been refusing to be held, and by the time he had blinked, everything had vanished. The packs, the pots and pans, even the spare clothing. The whole lot had simply gone, almost as if it had never been there.

Merlin gasped, staring around him in a touch of fear as he realised what he had done. The power leaked away from him and he realised that he was shaking slightly, this having been one of the greatest displays of magic that he had ever put himself through. Pressing his palms to the floor, Merlin let his body rock forward slightly, trying to understand what he had just done. As the adrenaline started to ebb away slightly, Merlin bit his lip, trying to hold back a whimper. He had just destroyed all of their belongings. He wasn't even sure that he wanted to know how they would respond to that.

For a long moment, he could only stare at the floor. But when he heard a slow, mocking clap, Merlin finally glanced back up again. It was Dantor clapping whilst Harg just looked amused. Both had moved closer, and Merlin realised with a jolt that they were pressing in on either side of him. There was no way that he could run even if he wanted to; there was simply no escape right now.

"Well done." Merlin blinked, not being sure whether he had heard Harg properly or not. Swallowing, he looked up at the man, but frowned when he saw that he seemed to be genuine with his praise. Seeing Merlin's glance, the bandit laughed.

"You really think that we have kept you alive just so that you could cover our tracks? You came in here boasting of powers, something that we had already seen. You've got guts, boy, no many children would seek out the person who tried to hurt their mother and offer to join them. But you've showed us no sign of that power apart from odd little bits here and there. It seems that if we get you nice and frustrated, you can do something. Not such a useless twerp, after all, are you?"

Merlin could only blink up at him, not being sure whether he was being insulted or complimented. Either way, he seemed to have just got away with making all of their belongings vanish and not get punished for it, something that he was eternally grateful about. Not to mention that he loved the rush of power lashing out with his magic had given him, making him feel more alive and far older than his thirteen years.

Dantor moved behind him, hooking his hands under Merlin's shoulders and hauling him to his feet with ease. Merlin initially thought that he was going to fall again, his legs not quite having worked out that they needed to stop trembling in order to keep him upright. But eventually, he had managed to steady himself and taking a deep breath, he finally looked around properly.

"The others will be waiting for us." Dantor muttered, and Harg simply nodded, his eyes locked on Merlin.

"Harg, we don't have the gold that we promised them. The brat just made it all vanish. You know what the boss will say if we don't pay up, we were on our last chance anyway…"

"Oh don't worry," Harg didn't seem at all worried by the worry lacing Dantor's tone, and Merlin shivered slightly when he realised that the man was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure what to do with himself under such a gaze.

"We can give him something worth a lot more than a few measly gold pieces." If Merlin was to look back in years to come, the thing that he would have regretted the most was that moment. At thirteen, he didn't quite understand the hidden meaning in Harg's words, only knew that it couldn't mean anything good as Dantor laughed. Harg started walking off and a single shove in the shoulder blades made Merlin stumble after him, wondering what on earth this great prize could be that it was worth more than gold. Apart from the coins these two had made him polish, Merlin had never even seen anything that was pure gold before, and he knew the bandits had been carrying more than his entire village was worth.

But as he followed Harg through the thick undergrowth, uncomfortably aware that Dantor was right behind him; he had no idea that he was the great prize being spoken of.

MMM

Merlin knew they were getting close even before he knew where they were going. They had been walking for a few hours, but compared to the last few days, it felt like nothing. Without the weight of everything pressing down, he was able to look around more as they walked and get a feel of the forest. But time seemed to go far too quickly as the sun had not yet reached its highest when the soft murmur of many voices came filtering through the trees. Merlin didn't dare turn around to face Dantor, but he could see the way the tension seemed to leave Harg's shoulders. The man was obviously relieved to be back amongst a larger group and his pace sped up.

Dantor clamped a heavy hand down on Merlin's skinny shoulder as he forced the boy into walking quicker. For a heart stopping moment, Merlin thought that he was going to fall over his own feet, but managed to get his limbs to listen to him just in time. Glancing around him, he couldn't deny that his jaw dropped.

There had to be at least thirty men living in a small clearing, yet Merlin hadn't even heard them until they were but ten paces from the camp. Small tents littered the area, sleeping mats taking over the rest of the space. It looked as if there was some sort of hierarchy amongst them as some of the tents were bigger than others, and a rather grand looking one stood in the centre. The space around that tent had been left clear rather than everything piling up around, and Merlin knew without being told that this would be where the leader that both Harg and Dantor were so afraid of lived.

"He's not happy with you boys." A voice called, sounding far too cheerful considering the threatening meaning behind his words. Merlin swallowed, but Dantor still had hold of him and the boy wouldn't have been able to stop even if he wanted to.

"He will be." Harg yelled back, glancing over his shoulder at Merlin as he spoke. For a boy that was used to hiding away, Merlin visibly cringed as what felt like every set of eyes in the entire encampment came to rest on him and he heard murmuring break out once again as they clearly tried to work out who he was and why Harg had brought him to the camp. His heart was thudding almost painfully in his chest and he subconsciously dropped back so that Dantor was right behind him rather than an arm length away. Whilst he was growing to hate the bandit for how he had been treated over the last few days, Dantor offered a sense of security right now. At least with him, Merlin knew where he stood. Some of these men had a look about them that made Merlin's skin crawl, and he had to remind himself that they were living outside of the law. And that Harg had made a point when he said the night before that the young teenager had brought this upon himself. Merlin had been the one to claim that he wanted to join them.

He kept his eyes down as he was pushed through the camp, but before they reached the tent, Harg suddenly turned. Merlin didn't even see that he had stopped until a hand grabbed his chin roughly, craning his head back so that he was forced to look up at the moment looming over him.

"You lost me the gold, boy. So you better do exactly as you are told and make it worth my while, you hear? If I tell you to jump, you jump. If I tell you to use magic, you do it, understand?" Merlin jerked his head in something that almost resembled a nod considering the grip on his chin. Harg seemed satisfied though, for he let go and strode forward, looking tall and confident. Merlin knew that it was just an act though, and wasn't sure whether that reassured him or not that the man was just as afraid as he was. He didn't have time to think about it, however, before Dantor had pushed him into the tent.

It was as if he had just walked straight into a palace, not a tent, and Merlin could only stare about him with wide eyes even as Dantor pushed him to his knees, keeping his hands on Merlin's shoulders in order to keep him down. The boy didn't noticed, however, as a tall man stepped out of the shadows. He had shoulder length jet black hair and a beard that matched, but what caught Merlin's attention the most was his eyes. They seemed to be just as black as his hair, and Merlin wasn't sure whether that was just the lighting or whether that was their true colour.

"Harg. You have my gold." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and Harg glanced at Merlin.

"No, Sire…" He didn't even have the chance to explain before a small bolt shot out of nowhere, striking him in the chest. Harg fell in a crumpled heap and Merlin flinched back, his mouth hanging open in horror. It was taking every ounce of his self-control in order to not scream and he could feel himself trembling.

"Dantor. You have my gold."

"Yes, Sire." Dantor hadn't so much as flinched at Harg's death and Merlin whimpered slightly as he was pushed forward, landing on his hands and knees at the bandit's feet. A hand caressed his hair before gripping it tightly and pulling his head up as the man clearly got a better look at him.

"And what is this?"

"Sorcerer, Sire. A powerful one, possibly even one of the rumoured warlocks. We don't have the gold because he simply made it vanish into thin air, didn't even say a word."

"How old are you, boy?" The man asked, his voice deceivingly soft and gentle. Merlin had to force himself to find his voice.

"Thirteen, Sire." He muttered, staring at the man's knee rather than risking looking up. It didn't help that the hand was still fisted in his hair, meaning he couldn't drop his head as much as he wanted to.

"Thirteen, eh? Almost a man. Why don't you show me this magic of yours?" Thinking back on what Harg had said and then what had happened to him, Merlin knew that it wasn't a request. He dived into himself, trying to find the focus of his magic in order to bring it to the surface. He had to do this, he knew that it was the only way that he would be able to prove himself in order to not be killed or simply kept as a servant to the rest of the bandits for the rest of his life.

But try as he might, Merlin couldn't get a grip on the magic. He could feel that it was there, but it was like it was afraid, bucking and slipping from his grasp every time he tried to grab hold of. Time didn't seem to exist as he attempted to show what he could do, but eventually, the hand on his hair disappeared.

"Take him outside, then return. You owe me, Dantor." The man rasped, and Merlin groaned as Dantor grabbed him by the back of his shirt, hauling him upright. The bandit was practically shaking with anger and he bodily threw Merlin from the tent.

Merlin landed in a heap on the floor, and didn't even have time to think about scrambling away before Dantor was upon him.

"You little brat. You think you can just vanish our gold and get away with it, that you then suddenly don't have any magic left to show?" Dantor snarled, fury radiating from every fibre of his being. Merlin could almost feel his anger, his magic recoiling from it rather than helping to protect him. Instead, he just curled up as tight as he could, knowing what was coming but also knowing that there was no escape from it.

"I tried!" Merlin yelled, curling up even tighter than he thought was actually possibly with a whimper as Dantor's foot connected with his stomach. He knew that this was something that he would not be able to explain, not to someone who didn't have magic, he just had to try. "I just can't do it, I don't know how or why!"

He wasn't aware that the rest of the camp had stopped what they were doing in order to watch the confrontation, or the fact that the leader had pulled back the flap on his tent to witness the spectacle. Many were laughing, but Merlin was too busy focusing on trying to stop the blows from raining down on him.

"I should send you back in pieces to your precious mother for this. And then I'll cut her into pieces, maybe that will make you think twice before you decide you can't use magic."

And just like that, Merlin snapped. As his magic had come to his mother's defence before, it was roaring into life again now. There was a ringing in his ears that was drowning out every other sound, and it was like his vision had focused until he could only see Dantor.

"Don't threaten my mother!" He growled, sounding menacing for a boy of thirteen. He could feel the magic rushing through his body, and could see by the way Dantor suddenly took a nervous step back that his eyes must have been glowing again. This man had seen what he was capable of, and Merlin found that he actually took a moment of delight in seeing the bully scared of him. There was a pulse and the magic seemed to explode out of him, sending Dantor flying through the air and causing all of the tents to ripple in the unfelt breeze rushing through the clearing.

As soon as the man landed, Merlin gasped, the power draining away as he realised what he had done. He had wanted to hurt the man, and had done so, even enjoying it. It went against everything that his mother had ever taught him about his magic, and the warlock fell back with a cry, not even having noticed that he had stood up in the process. His hand was shaking violently as he tried to process what had happened, and felt a rush of sheer relief shoot through him when he saw Dantor climb warily to his feet from the other side of the camp. For a moment, Merlin had thought that he had actually killed the man.

"Now that is more like it. Collar him." Merlin could only sit there, stunned, as two of the bandits ran forward. One grabbed his hands, holding them with ease behind his back whilst the other pulled out what looked like a metal collar. After a few seconds of fiddling, he clipped it around the boy's neck, and Merlin could do nothing but scream. He could feel the iron in the collar, the way that it immediately acted as a damper on his magic. The man holding him let go and the boy fell onto his back, arching slightly.

"Get it off! Please!" He yelled, hands scrabbling at the metal in an attempt to remove it from his neck. His fingers did nothing, however, and after a few moments, he fell back, panting weakly.

"Please…" He didn't even notice that there were tears flowing from the corner of his eyes as the leader came and crouched down beside him. Once again, there was a hand resting on his hair, but it didn't grip on this time, but just stayed there comfortingly.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Merlin." Said child whispered, his voice trembling as much as his body.

"Well, Merlin, I will do you a deal. I will take the collar off, if you agree to stay by my side and serve me." Merlin didn't even think about what he was agreeing to, but just nodded frantically. All he could feel was the pain from the collar, and he knew that he would have agreed to anything in that moment just to stop it hurting.

"I'll do it! Please, I'll do it, just take it off!" Merlin was shouting as loud as he could, hoping that would make the men realise just how much the collar was suffocating him. If he was honest, he felt like he would pass out before long, and as the man had just offered him a way out of that feeling, Merlin knew he was taking it without thinking about what it could potentially mean for him.

"Good answer, boy. You, man, take him into my tent and restrain him."

"What!?" Merlin yelled and fought as a man pulled him to his feet and took hold of his arm, beginning to lead him away. He tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight, he could do nothing more than make the man's hand grip tighter onto his arm.

"I agreed to help you."

"You did. But your word is not binding enough, my boy. You have to bind your magic to your promise there, and until you do that, I have to make sure that you can't hurt me, understand?"

Realising that he was in far more trouble than he had originally contemplated when he had agreed to the man's deal, Merlin struggled fruitlessly as he was led away. The man seemed wary of him, but Merlin knew that he posed no more threat to him like this than any other thirteen year old did.

He was led into the centre of the tent and pushed into a sitting position, his back against the main pole that supported the whole thing. He went down numbly, wanting nothing more than to be able to go home and for his mother to tell him that everything was going to be alright. His hands were pulled around the pole and behind his back before he felt some sort of twine wrap around them, tying him to the pole.

"Word of advice, boy." The man securing him muttered, not sounding at all unpleasant. "Do as he says. Keep low and do as you are told, and you might live through this. Not all of us agree with him, I'll try and get you out. Betray me, and I'll leave you here for good. Just behave, and it will be much better for you."

Merlin could only nod, not trusting his voice as the knots were finished and the man stood up. He moved to the flap of the tent, cast Merlin a sorrowful look and left, leaving the child tied securely to the post with the heavy weight of the collar resting against his neck.

Merlin knew that there was no way out.