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"No! Leave him alone!" Arthur found that he was suddenly tugging at his bindings as he watched Jarta approaching the fallen form of his friend. He should have known that Merlin wouldn't have been able to truly run, there was nowhere for him to go where he wouldn't be recognised considering they were in a bandit infested part of the forest. From what the prince had picked up and from what Merlin had told him himself, it seemed that the young boy was as much of a prize as Arthur was. But although they were intending to make Arthur some sort of slave, they had already done so with Merlin. They had taken his one form of defence and used it against him.

"Gag him and make sure those bindings are tight, we wouldn't want our little fish to slip through the net now, would we?" Jarta was standing over Merlin as he spoke, but jerked his head back towards Arthur. One of his men strode forward, pulling a rag from his pocket as he did so. He pulled Arthur momentarily away from the post, checking that the ropes around his hands were still tight. Considering there were beads of blood encircling the prince's wrists from where he was trying to pull himself free, the man seemed satisfied and pushed him back again before checking the chain.

"I won't let you hurt him."

"Just hurry up and shut the brat up." Arthur snarled, but could do nothing more as the rag was forced in between his teeth, choking him as the man tied it off tightly behind his head before walking away. Jarta bent down, swinging Merlin over his shoulder with ease.

"Prepare for the ritual."

"You want to do it now? If the others come back before it is complete, you'll be vulnerable. They might even be able to finish it off themselves."

"Then it is your job to make sure that they don't get anywhere near me. I've never felt his magic acting out like this. I don't think the boy has control – of if he does, he hasn't realised it. But I certainly don't have it either and I'm not taking that risk. Especially as scouts report that Uther received the message. He knows that he can't get here in time, but apparently he is still trying to make sure that nothing happens to his precious heir. By the time he gets here, the prince will be gone and I'll have all the magic that I need to rid Camelot of its King."

Jarta shot Arthur a filthy look as he turned on his heel and walked off, taking Merlin's motionless form with him. The young warrior found himself freezing before struggling in earnest. He should have known that he was only ever the bait, that selling him was just an added bonus for what Jarta was truly planning. He had to get out of here, he had to make sure that he could stop his father from walking straight into the trap. He also couldn't help but think that escaping and saving them from something worse happening was the only way he would be able to avoid his father's disappointment at the fact that he had been caught in the first place.

After what felt like an age, Arthur finally stopped trying to pull against the rope, knowing that he wasn't going anywhere. He was breathing heavily through the gag, and every breath he took in made his stomach churn. Arthur tried to remember his training, tried to think about what he had been taught. Ever since Jarl had taken him all those years ago, Leon had made sure that Arthur knew how to fight when he was weaponless and outnumbered. It might not mean escaping, but it would mean taking some of them with him and therefore going down with his pride still intact. He thought that he had handled it, that he knew what he was doing.

Then again, he didn't think that he would have been tricked by a memory from his past and realised just how much of a child he still felt when surrounded by bandits who wanted nothing more than to see him humiliated and his father dead. Arthur forced himself to stop, to think about what he had to do to get out of this. He couldn't break free of the rope, and he wouldn't be able to get out of the chain unless he had the use of his hands. Very carefully, the young prince began moving again.

Only this time, he just moved his fingers. Rather than trying to pull against the rope, he carefully felt for the knot, trying to get a grip on it. Just as he thought he had it, he heard a disorientated high pitched cry come from the direction that Jarta had disappeared in. There was only one person who was young enough to make a noise that high and Arthur found that he was calling out for Merlin. It came out as nothing more than a muffled "mmph", but it was enough for Arthur to realise just how trapped they were.

Jarta had meant what he had said, he didn't want anyone else getting hold of Merlin's powers. Although Merlin wasn't under the rule of Camelot and therefore Arthur shouldn't feel like he was one of his subjects, he couldn't help it. His father had taught him that he had to protect all of his men, and right now, Merlin was the closest thing he had to that. Arthur had sworn that they were going to get out of this, and right now, he intended on making good on that promise.

Blocking out all other noise, Arthur shut his eyes. He just let his fingers do the work rather than allowing his other senses to tell him that it wouldn't be possible. The knot was tight, but Arthur was sure that it was a relatively simple one. If he could just get a grip on it, he should be able to work himself free.

There!

Suddenly, Arthur found that his hands had taken hold of the rope. Rather than pulling against it, he was somehow sliding out from it. It still took him far longer than he was happy about considering he didn't know what was happening to Merlin, but finally, Arthur was able to lean forward again, wrenching the gag from his mouth. He didn't waste time on untying it, he simply left it hanging around his neck as he bent down in order to examine the chain around his ankle.

Arthur couldn't help but let out a groan. If he thought getting out of the rope had been hard, it was nothing compared to how getting out of the chain was going to be. His fingers brushed over the metal, wondering what it would feel like to have a power like Merlin's and simply be able to command it opened. Arthur only just bit back a gasp as the thought flickered through his head. He had wanted to feel like he had magic? Banishing the feeling as quickly as it came, he shook his head and focused his attention back on the manacle again. If anyone ever found out… Arthur was sure that his father wouldn't execute his own son, but he didn't want to risk it.

"So, you're a little escaper, are you?" The voice came from somewhere behind him and Arthur whirled around, stumbling as his feet entangled from where he had been in a tight crouch. One of the bandits was walking towards him, an ugly looking knife in his hand and a sneer on his face. Arthur was sure that he had seen him before, and it was only when the man got closer that he realised that he was one of the men who had held him down when Jarta had beat him.

"Stay back." Arthur warned, trying to sound intimidating in the way that he knew the knights could as he rose to his feet.

"No, I don't think I will. I want some fun, and you provide a good sport, Prince Arthur." Arthur backed away despite himself, cursing the fact that the chain jangled on every step and simply reminded him that there was no where he could run to. He just hoped that it would allow him to reach the trees, that he would be able to find a branch or something there that he could defend himself with. The man quickened his speed, the grin still in place and caused Arthur to do the same.

He was almost running by the time the chain's length ran out. Jerked to a stop, his foot held out behind him, Arthur glanced around frantically. There had to be something he could use to defend himself, something that he could do! His pursuer had also stopped level with the post and just frozen there, waiting until Arthur had stopped and glanced back at him. His foot hooked under the chain.

"No!" Arthur's yell did nothing as the man jerked the chain, pulling Arthur to the ground. Completely caught off balance, the prince fell heavily, only to realise that the man was pulling him back by his ankle. Unable to stop himself, Arthur cried out, desperately trying to grab onto something, but finding there was nothing there in order to stop his journey.

"Good sport indeed. Do you know how many cuts on the human body you can make without causing any permanent damage."

"No…" Arthur was ashamed to admit that his voice came out as nothing more than a whimper and he fell back, panting, as the man finally stopped pulling. He didn't have time to try and get to his feet, however, before the bandit was over him, the knife in hand. Arthur simply laid there, staring up at him and feeling now more than ever that, despite his denials, he was still just a boy. The man made to drop to his knees, only for his eyes to flicker to the trees.

Faster than Arthur could comprehend, he had dropped the knife and grabbed the chain. Looping it over the prince's hands, he held Arthur still as he picked up the knife again, resting it against his neck.

"I know you are there." Arthur slammed his head backwards, causing the man to drop him again with a howl. He let his body fall to the ground even as he caught a glimpse of red through the trees. It was more than just the colour though: it was Pendragon red.

"How observant you are."

The bandit placed his foot on Arthur's stomach to stop him from wriggling away as a tall figure emerged from the trees.

"Leon!"

"Silence, boy. Stay where you are, or I'll kill him."

"You won't have time." Arthur craned his head back in order to see his old friend, and knew by the way that Leon was standing that he had something hidden behind his back.

"I'm warning you." The bandit didn't seem to know what to do. Arthur knew that whilst he would have hurt the prince, it was more than his life was worth to actually kill him, not when so many people had money placed on the boy. He had no real leverage, and he seemed to know it. Not that he had time to do anything about it, however, for no sooner had he delivered his last warning, Leon reacted.

The bandit had no chance as the crossbow bolt flew with deadly accuracy towards him.

Arthur struggled against the chain almost desperately as the man fell. He should have been able to get out of it on his own, it was only tangled around his wrists lightly, not even enough pull for it to jolt his leg. But somehow, he found that his eyes were watering slightly and he couldn't seem to get out of it. It didn't matter that Leon was one man against a whole camp of bandits, not to mention with more on their way with their sights set on Arthur. But none of that registered in the young prince's mind.

Leon was here. He was safe.

"Arthur? Arthur, it's okay, lie still…"

"I can't get it off…" Arthur panted, refusing to stop struggling as he tried to free himself.

"Arthur, stop." The firm note in Leon's voice was enough for Arthur to listen, as it was the same voice that he use whenever they were training together and Arthur was doing something wrong. Arthur fell still, his breath still catching slightly and watched with wide eyes as Leon pulled the chain off from around his wrists and untied the gag from around his neck. Helping Arthur to sit up, he then proceeded to pull out his dagger and use the point of it to pick the lock on the manacle. At long last, Arthur felt it snap off, and knew for the first time in days, he was free.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here." Arthur numbly allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, his mind beginning to process the fact that this might be over. But as Leon pulled him towards the trees – clearly indicating that the rest of the camp were there – Arthur resisted.

"Sire, come on. I was given permission to try and extract you before the knights attack, to make sure that you weren't caught in the crossfire. If we aren't gone when they get here, you might get hurt."

"I can fight, Leon." Arthur retorted, not liking the fact that they were still treating him like a child despite how much training he had gone through.

"I'm not saying you can't, but you are hurt."

Arthur pulled away from Leon's grip, continuing to shake his head as he glanced around at the main body of the camp.

"I can't go yet, there is something that I need to do."

"What? Arthur, please, this is no time to try and prove yourself to anyone. Whilst they have you, they have the upper hand. You know how dangerous that is."

"If I don't go back, they have something that will give them the upper hand no matter what."

"Which is?"

"Merlin."

"Merlin? Isn't that…"

"The boy from years ago, yes. I'm sorry, Leon, but I'm not leaving here without him. Go back to the camp if you want, tell them to stall, tell them to attack, I don't care. But I'm going for Merlin; I swore to him that we were both going to escape from this."

"Then I'm coming with you." Leon's stance had softened into one of compassion as he realised that Arthur wasn't just being stubborn, he wanted to save someone. The knight swiftly reloaded his crossbow and made sure that his sword was loose in his scabbard before handing his dagger to Arthur.

"Try not to lose it."

"Yes, Sire." Arthur grinned, suddenly feeling a lot more confident now that he knew he wouldn't be going back in alone. He caught Leon's eye, who nodded. Without another word, the pair began to run back to the main part of the bandit's encampment.

MMM

Merlin came around to the feeling of a bottle being pressed against his lips and something cold trickling down his throat. As soon as he realised what he was feeling, his reflexes kicked in and he coughed harshly, trying to stop the substance from being swallowed. The bottle immediately disappeared as Merlin's head turned to one side and the boy coughed.

It was only when he managed to regain control of his breathing again that Merlin realised there was something wrong. He hadn't been able to sit up, hadn't been able to do anything other than turn his head away in order to stop whatever had been in the bottle. Gasping, Merlin jerked wildly, but it only confirmed his suspicions. He was tied down onto the same altar that had stolen his magic from him all those months ago, thick leather straps encircling his wrists and holding them down by his waist. There was another strap across his hips and his legs were bound in a similar fashion. As his mind started to work, Merlin realised what the drink must have been.

"No!" Thrashing about as much as he could, Merlin struggled to get free.

"Someone hold him down." He knew that in only a matter of moments, his magic would begin to leak out from him, go wild as all the restraints on it broke. Whilst he knew that might be his only chance to get out of this, he also knew that the chances of him having control over it were almost non-existent. The magic that escaped from him in that form was raw power, something that Merlin knew he would control one day, but hadn't yet developed for that day to be now. Unless his magic specifically thought to release the straps, Merlin knew that he was stuck. It was more likely to lash out at the men surrounding him than it was to untie the warlock. Someone came up to the head of the alter and strong hands were placed on his shoulders, stopping him from bucking up.

"Master! Master, please!" Merlin didn't think about the fact that he was screaming. He hadn't even realised that it was Jarta preparing to do the ritual again, all he knew was that someone was going to take his magic. For all he knew, it was one of the rival bandits coming to claim his power, just as they had threatened to do for all of this time.

"It's alright, Merlin, it's going to be over soon." Merlin lay there, panting as tears fell from the corners of his eyes as Jarta stepped into his vision. The man was free, there was no one else in the camp. It was only in that moment where reality hit home and Merlin realised it was exactly the same as before. Jarta was going to be the one to take his magic.

"No! Please don't, please… I'll do as I'm told, I swear. Don't do this, please!" Hot tears splashed from the corners of his eyes and Merlin screwed them shut as he felt the beginnings of the change happening. His magic was beginning to react to the drug.

"Anyone that is not needed for the ritual, clear the area. We don't know what he is going to do. Set up a perimeter, warn me if anyone approaches." A handful of the bandits disappeared, muttering audible about magic and sorcery. Merlin didn't notice though, he was too busy trying to control the heat that was spreading through his body. He knew that there was nothing he could do in order to hold the magic back, and without warning, a burst suddenly tore from him. His back arched against the straps as he screamed, and he knew that it was the hands holding him down that stopped him from completely straining something.

"Jarta, hurry, I'm not sure I can hold him." Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Jarta nod, a knife in his hand as he began to chant in an eerie voice. Merlin felt his magic rebel, knowing that it was beginning to feel the first shackles being placed back on it and binding it to Jarta's will yet again. He twisted desperately as the magic poured from him, a few of the closest tents simply collapsing as their supports crumbled into nothing but dust.

"Jarta!" The chanting stopped as one of the bandits who had left came running back onto the scene, a bloody wound on his head. "Rackal's men are closing in, they are coming for both of them. Their scout said something about destinies, no idea, but they are here, and they want the boy."

"Well, tell him he can't have him." Jarta shoved the man away, leaping up onto the altar as he did so. Merlin weakly twisted his head away, shaking it in denial about what was about to happen. He felt as if every nerve was on fire, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was almost as if his body was embracing the power of the magic, almost as if it felt as if he was ready to handle it. Jarta seemed to get some feeling of that fact as he hastily began chanting again, drawing the knife across his arm and causing a deep gash to appear.

"No, please…" Merlin moaned, trying to kick out but finding the straps over his legs were simply too strong. He could barely even move, let alone free himself. Jarta ignored him this time, instead continuing to chant. Merlin grunted as he felt the binding on the magic from before yet again forcing him to act. Jarta was using what power he still had to strengthen the bond between them this time. Merlin knew that it didn't matter who he came across or how much he tried to resist, there would be no getting out of it on this occasion.

He could only watch with wide eyes as the knife came towards him. He wanted to look away, wanted to deny that this was happening, but it was as if he had frozen. It was only when he felt the slicing pain across his arm that he snapped out of it, his body jerking as pleas fell from his lips for the man not to do this. Jarta didn't seem to be hearing him anymore, he was too lost in the magic as he rested his good hand over Merlin's wrist, stopping his arm from twisting as he began to lower his own cut to Merlin's.

"Merlin!" Arthur's yell made Jarta jerk away, cursing as the prince came running into sight. There was another man with him, a knight of Camelot if his dress was anything to go by. Arthur was bleeding heavily in more than one place, yet the dagger in his hand quickly made short work of the men blocking his way to the altar. Anyone that even thought of approaching the prince found themselves stumbling back with a crossbow bolt in their chests.

"Get away from him!" Jarta jolted, snapping himself out of simply watching Arthur running towards them and made to mix their blood again. Only the prince seemed to take a flying leap. In one movement, he had bounded onto the altar and slammed his weight into Jarta. In any other occasion, it wouldn't have been enough to move the solid bandit, but Jarta was performing powerful magic and was caught off guard. His arm slipped, missing Merlin's as he tumbled from the altar.

Arthur, however, almost collapsed on top of his friend as his momentum took him too far. A deep cut on his own arm from a bandit's knife was bleeding steadily, and before either of them realised what had happened, Arthur's blood had mixed with Merlin's.

Jarta had only been the one chanting because he wanted to make sure that the spell had been done right. In all honesty, it didn't matter who spoke the words. That was simply to draw the magic out, it had nothing to do with binding it. The magic forged the chains that would be the shackles for the magic, but it was the mixing of the blood that put those shackles in place. Jarta had been moved before he could chain Merlin to him.

Arthur, however, had just finished the spell.

Merlin gasped, only this time, it wasn't in pain or fear. A feeling of peace, of warmth shot through every single ache that he had in his body, his magic immediately settling back down as it recognised its new owner. As the feeling intensified, Merlin's eyes closed and he let out a soft sigh before falling asleep. Arthur didn't realise that he was feeling exactly the same thing, that he had just received his wish to know what magic felt like before he too slumped to one side, breathing softly.

"Arthur!" Leon's fighting intensified as he tried to get to the two boys, but it was too late. The spell had been complete, Arthur was now the one in charge of Merlin's magic. But whereas Jarta's control had been fierce and dominant, controlling as he tried to use Merlin for his own needs, the prince wasn't even yet aware that he had the power. Rather than twisting and rebelling, the magic recognised that it had just been bound to the one whose destiny it was to serve and a golden light arched into the air. It started off as a single beam before splitting, the two halves settling back down over the altar and forming a golden globe over the two sleeping boys.

But it was as if the magic knew that somehow, this was right. Bright flashes of light exploded within the globe, drawing the attention of everyone in the area as they watched in wonder as the raw power expressed itself. The display went on for a few moments before all colour disappeared again. At the same time, both the knights of Camelot and the opposing bandits crashed into the camp from both sides and Leon sprang forward again.

He was thankful that the magic let him approach and quickly took the dagger from Arthur's limp hand. Making short work of the straps, he cut Merlin free, throwing the boy over his shoulder before grabbing Arthur around the waist. He had no idea how he was going to move both of them, but knew that he didn't have a choice. Dragging them clear from the altar, Leon stumbled towards a nearby cluster of trees, adamant that he was going to get his prince away from the fighting if nothing else.

"Sir Knight?" A timid voice made Leon jump even as he lowered the boys down to the ground. A quick glance around showed a young woman heading towards him, leading a horse. Her eyes were wide and scared at the fighting that was going on around her, but Leon could see that she was also a woman who had been through a lot.

"I want you to take this horse. She will bear you well."

"Why?" Leon knew how good at trapping people bandits were. For all he knew, he would get Arthur on the horse and it would take off.

"Because Merlin has a home to get to." She bent down, stroking back the warlock's hair and soothing him as he murmured something under his breath. "He's wanted to go home ever since he got here. I've done what I can for him, but he needs his mother."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Petra. To the men here, I am a no one but a body. I was Jarta's slave, just as Merlin was."

"Was?"

"I don't think he'll be coming after us now." Petra glanced over her shoulder and Leon followed her gaze. He instantly found himself standing up, blocking her view of the camp as he realised quite how ferocious the fighting had become.

"Thank you." Realising that she was being sincere, and was genuinely offering him a way to get them all out of here, Leon reacted immediately. Uther had ordered him to get Arthur out, but then not to come near the camp for a further three days, just in case things had gone wrong. Leon knew that it was Uther's way of protecting Arthur from seeing anything no young man should see and he had agreed. If he remembered rightly, Merlin came from Ealdor – a place he would be able to get to by the following evening. He could get them to safety, then use the horse to gallop back and tell Uther that his son was safe. With the plan formed in his head, Leon hoisted Arthur up and managed to navigate the prince onto the horse. Merlin was a lot easier, he was a lot lighter than Arthur, but it only made the knight frown.

It felt like it had been a long time since the child had had a proper meal. Leon knew that Petra was right, it was time to get Merlin back to his mother. He didn't know how long the boy had been missing for, but the child asleep against the prince's back had looked somewhat haunted. However long it had been, it had been too long.

Resting his hand on Merlin's back to make sure that both boys stayed balanced, Leon clicked his tongue and coaxed the horse into a walk. He had only gone a few paces before he turned and looked back.

"Come with us."

"I…"

"Merlin is going to need you. I don't know why they are asleep, what has happened to them or when they are going to wake up. But you said it yourself, you have tried to be there for him. If they wake up before we reach Ealdor, he is going to need someone to soothe him."

"I think you would be quite good at that."

"I think I'm going to have my hands full of a prince who won't admit that he has been affected by everything that he has just been through, despite the fact that I thought he was going to break down on me earlier. Please?"

Petra looked hesitant, clearly not used to making her own decisions again. But then there was a fierce yell from the fighting behind and she nodded. Leon knew that she was fully aware of what would happen to her if she stayed here. Her dress indicated precisely why Jarta had kept her around, and Leon knew that knights high on adrenaline could be just as bad. She took a step forward anxiously, flinching as Leon drew off his cloak. He simply offered it out to her, and Petra took it, wrapping it around her. It almost drowned her in folds of red material, but Leon simply smiled and once again nudged the horse into a walk.

It was time to get out of here.