Arthur slowly raised his head, pushing his hood back. He turned to glare at Uther.

"Oh don't talk wet!" Arthur snapped. "What fucking sort of twisted mind game are you playing?"

"I don't play games, I don't have the time or inclination for them."

Arthur glared at him. "So, even if you are my father, what the hell use are you now?"

Uther gave Arthur a very level glare, disapproval radiating from him. Arthur just riled, glaring back.

"If nothing else, I'll teach you some manners," Uther's voice remained steely. Arthur looked less than impressed.

"And why did my mum tell everyone that you were dead. What did you do to her?"

"I did nothing."

"There must have been something, if she said you were dead. Even when she was dying she told everyone that. Why didn't she tell me about you?"

Uther didn't answer; instead he looked to the young warlock, stood on the designs. "Merlin, remove the spell."

Arthur's eyes widened, so did Merlin's but Uther's voice came out as a command and Merlin just did as he was told. Arthur shifted again, rolling onto one hip so he could look round at Merlin, who was stood on the design, chanting in a steady tone of voice. Arthur shuffled back a little as Merlin's eyes started to glow again. There was no doubting he was seeing the same thing as he had last time. As Arthur sat up he pulled his right arm to his side, and his eyes roved around as he watched the drawings on the floor start to glow. Lights flashed along the lines like trains down a track and Arthur curled up as he sat them disappear.

He looked around in every direction, and it was happening across the circle. The black lines faded away, leaving nothing but the concrete floor. Arthur felt his stomach flip over, and he quivered with nerves. Once the pattern was gone then the barrier between him and the group was gone. It wouldn't just be Merlin who was able to reach him. Arthur wasn't entirely sure he was ready for that barrier to be taken away; he didn't think he would ever be ready for it. But at least now, he could start planning to get himself away. There was no way he was going to believe that Uther was his father. His mother had never really spoken about it, and there had to be a reason for that. Arthur hadn't even thought about it, as a child. There had just been him and Igraine, and that was fine. He loved his mother, and then he had watched her die.

As he had grown up, now and again he thought about the idea of his father. Logic dictated he had to have had one. Before she died, his mother had told the authorities his father was dead, and then he was put into care, not really understanding why Igraine wasn't there anymore.

Arthur just accepted the inevitable. He had no one to really care for him. No one who was special. This scenario did not change that.

The atmosphere was very tense as the lines vanished, and the glow in Merlin's eyes died. As soon as he could Gwaine stepped forward and pulled Merlin back. Merlin went with him. Arthur looked around, eyes rolling in his head, but he avoided eye contact with everyone, just waiting for what was about to happen. Uther held his hand out to Morgana.

"Give me the keys."

Morgana reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the handcuff keys. Without a word he placed them into Uther's palm. Arthur's eyes widened as Uther stepped forward, breath hitching, and his heart rate speeded up. Arthur shuffled back a little, but he stopped and went very still as Uther moved closer. The air around the room vibrated with tension. It felt like Arthur wasn't the only one who was nervous about finding out how this scenario would go.

Arthur rolled his eyes up to stare at Uther who looked down at him for a moment, until he reached out his hand, flicking his fingers to indicate that Arthur should meet him. Arthur blinked, debating his position for a moment, but it seemed a bit stupid to refuse to be unchained. Very slowly he raised his hands, offering them palm up so Uther could unlock him from the restraints.

Uther did one, and then the other. Following that he grabbed one hand and looked at the rub marks on Arthur's wrist. Arthur attempted to get his hand free, Uther resisted him for a moment and Arthur's face tensed. With his other hand he lashed out. Uther's reaction was almost reflex. He dodged Arthur's clumsy swing, pulling him off balance and he stepped around Arthur and twisted the arm he was holding up his back. Arthur gasped with pain.

The rest of them had shifted a little closer, when Arthur had attacked. Now they backed off, hovering uncertainly. Gwaine put his arm across Merlin to stop him from stepping forward.

"Uther, that's his sore shoulder," Merlin pointed out. The expression on Arthur's face made it clear he was in pain.

"I don't care," Uther said, his voice soft, sounding like that wasn't entirely true. However, he didn't release Arthur, who went as still as possible, gasping as the pain. "Enough of this behaviour, it is not becoming to you."

Uther released Arthur's arm and the young man drew it back in front of him, cradling it. He didn't look up, he just stayed on his knees, holding his arm and he waited. Uther turned to look at Morgana.

"We need to move now."

"I can pack up what we need, and call Lancelot in to clear out."

"Very well, I'll make arrangements for transport. Leon, Gwaine, take Arthur to the motel, let him get cleaned up and put him in some new clothes."

"Merlin, stay here and help Morgana," Gwaine said.

"Fine," Merlin said, sounding thoroughly irritated.

Arthur did nothing, but his mind calculated through the scenario. He was going somewhere with the two bodyguards of the troop. They were expecting trouble from him. The best thing he could do for the moment was not cause any. His arm hurt anyway, he didn't want to make that worse. Arthur was smart enough to know when it was best to lay low and look harmless. All he needed was a moment when he could catch them off guard. Gwaine would be hard for that, as protective as he was of Merlin. But Leon might be different. He could fight, Arthur knew that, but Leon wouldn't want to hurt him. Gwaine probably wouldn't have a qualm about it, if he needed to, but Leon might. In the car he had been utterly apologetic, and uncomfortable with the whole mission. It was probably why he had messed it up in the first place.

His careful assessment of the situation told Arthur that Uther would have been far better in playing the punter, but that wouldn't have worked for any of them, including Uther. Gwaine would have been better but Arthur had riled at him the moment he had laid eyes on him, so maybe the feeling might have been there. Plus Arthur looked at the way he was around Merlin. He could read that body language as clear as day. Gwaine either hadn't wanted to, or Merlin hadn't felt secure with it. Arthur actually guessed the former of the two options. He really hadn't made a friend in Gwaine. Not that Arthur was interested in making friends.

It was Gwaine that came to claim him however, walking across the floor and he grabbed Arthur's upper arm, his left thankfully, and hauled him up.

"Come on, pretty boy."

Arthur jerked back. Gwaine tightened his grip but he turned to look at Arthur, who stared back with wide eyed shock. There was only one other person who had ever called him there. Arthur felt a rush of violent emotions through his system. It could have just been a coincidence but Arthur didn't think so. His eyes scanned around, but no one seemed to have reacted to it, all except Merlin, who was staring at Gwaine with disapproval. To his credit, Gwaine had the decency to look sheepish. Arthur did nothing but let Gwaine lead him along, Leon followed at a distance. Arthur stayed calm. He was getting out of the building, he could look at where he was and work out what to do from there.

And it was nice to actually get outside. Night was just drawing it, the shadows lengthening along the ground. It felt fresh and clean as the gentle breeze touched him. Arthur took a deep breath. It was only as he got outside that he realised just how stale the air inside the building had been and he realised what the musty trace in the air was. There was a metallic undertone that could have only been blood. It would never fade, it was impregnated into the structure. Arthur turned and looked at it, hope flaring.

He had never known what the building was for, but he had seen it enough. Not close up, but it was large and it dominated part of the skyline. His mind calculated where he was, and also worked out what motel they were likely to be referring to. Down the road from where they were lay a main road, the duel carriageway that led to the motorway.

Arthur knew the motel well. It paid by the hour, if they knew you well enough. Most of the pimps had regular rooms there, so if a punter was willing to pay, they could have a room, they could have cheap wine if they paid a little more. Arthur knew it gave a nice little illusion of a liaison rather than just cheap sex. The veneer was easy to crack, you didn't need to try that hard. Arthur wondered if Uther and the others really knew where they were staying.

He was pulled towards the car but before he was put in the back Gwaine put a cuff around his wrist. One he was in he attached it to the plastic handle on the roof, just inside the door.

"I don't trust you," he said before shutting the door.

"Fair enough," Arthur murmured to himself and he tested the door handle as Gwaine took the drivers seat and Leon got in the passenger side.

"And the child locks are on," Gwaine added.

Arthur stopped fiddling. He couldn't hurl himself out of the car, so he didn't bother to try. The motel was his best bet, there were quirks to that place that only someone who sold themselves knew. They drove off with him in the back, they didn't talk, they just travelled. Arthur stared out at the scenery, he knew it, but he made sure he tracked it. There was some security in doing that. When they pulled in the area was quiet and Gwaine parked the car in one of the darkest areas.

Again, Arthur didn't see the point of causing a fuss. If he did, no one would really pay any attention. Instead he let Gwaine remove the restraint and he was swiftly marched into the room.

The décor was uninspiring, and the furniture cheap. The walls were a beige colour, the paper an interwoven reed pattern. Arthur often wondered if the walls had been a different colour, when they had started off life, and now the dirt just clung to the uncared for paper. The furniture wouldn't have looked out of place in the seventies. Decades on it lingered in this place, where nothing changed. Arthur was pushed in the direction of the bathroom, if it could be called that.

It was a tiny space, with a shower and toilet. There was also a tiny sink on the wall by the toilet. The tiles were coated with lime scale and dirt lingered in deep cracks. The stench wasn't terrible, but it was there. Arthur let Gwaine push him in. As Arthur turned a sponge bag was slammed into his chest. Arthur reached up to automatically grab it.

"That's got everything you need. Towels are there."

"Thanks," Arthur snarled. The towels were not what came with the room. They were clean, a neat light blue colour. Arthur put his left hand on the fabric, it was stiff under his hand. The towels were new.

"New clothes are there," Gwaine said pointing at the back of the door. He took the handle and stepped back. "You can't lock the door."

It could be shut, and Gwaine did so, leaving Arthur alone in the confined space. He turned and glanced up at the sliver of window on the back wall. Arthur knew, it wouldn't open, and it would have been difficult, not impossible, but difficult for him to get out. He'd be heard trying to. Instead he put the bag down and opening it up filtered through the soap, shampoo and other toiletries. Then he turned the shower on. It wouldn't hurt to clean up, he smelt like an off licence and like someone who had been in his clothes just a little too long.

He did take his time, enjoying the warm water. The motel might have lacked some comforts but water pressure and hot water were two of the ones present. Arthur steamed up the tiny room and gave himself a good wash and made sure that when the door opened, he had his hands busy over himself. Leon he guessed would react in embarrassment; it was Gwaine that Arthur wasn't sure of. He seemed to be with Merlin, the body language screamed that. But Arthur was sure he would be a fraction distracting, especially as Gwaine threw open the door ten minutes in and recoiled from the steam. Arthur yanked the curtain aside and glared at him.

"What are you doing?"

Gwaine confirmed something by the flicker of his eyes up and down Arthur. He was partially concealed by the curtain, but Arthur knew, when the curtains got wet, they became clingy and see through, there was enough for Gwaine to look at.

"Just checking you're still here," Gwaine said backing up.

"Hard not to be with my babysitters all over me," Arthur snapped rudely. Gwaine slammed the door. Arthur smirked. He probably had enough time now. He stepped out of the shower but left it running, while he dried himself as best he could. The towels were getting damp thanks to all the steam. Arthur risked turning the temperature down a bit and then he yanked on the clothes. It was pleasant to be in something clean, and it was new. He pulled on the fabric. It was a better quality than he was used to; the fleecy shirt was thicker than his hoodie. Arthur took the money out of his old clothes and looked at the new. He didn't trust it anywhere except under the lining of his boot. It was another safe place to hide things. Arthur stuffed the money in and pulled the boots on. Then he took the risk and turned the shower off. Gwaine would, he hoped, assume that he was now drying off and getting dressed. Arthur surmised he had about five minutes before Gwaine came back again.

Arthur grabbed his old socks, pulling the material about until he found the one that was ripped. He discarded that and slid the damp bar of soap into the other one, carefully testing it for weight. It felt heavy enough, he could get enough impact if he aimed right. He tried to roll his shoulder, but it was still throbbing. The warm water had lessened the pain a fraction but Arthur had been shocked at the bruise on it.

The spread of it was across his chest, from his just over his right nipple to just over his collar bone and ran across from his sternum to under his armpit. What made it even more impressive was the hand print that lingered in the centre. That area had not been bruised, where Merlin's hand had actually lain, but around it the capillaries just under the skin had burst, so the skin now looked dark purple and blue. It was no wonder it hurt so much. Every time he moved his arm it sent ripples of pain as the muscles shifted. He could try striking with his left hand, but he didn't want to risk the unreliability of his aim. Arthur instead thought it better to manage with the pain.

He wanted to try a few practice swings but the room was too confined, if he made too much noise Gwaine would come charging in before he was ready. Arthur carefully positioned himself, backed up against the toilet, almost straddling it so he would be beside the door as it opened. Then he could swing, hopefully hitting Gwaine in the face. Hard enough to at least stun him, so if he needed a second blow, he'd have time for it.

Arthur had felt bad about Merlin, even before he had tried to grab him. His instincts told him that Merlin was a nice guy, trying so hard to make sure he was all right. Everyone around him just bullied him into doing as he was told as far as Arthur could see. He wondered if any of them would have been particularly interested in the young boy if it wasn't for the talents he appeared to possess. Arthur couldn't ignore them, the mess on his body was proof of it.

Maybe Gwaine was different in that respect, but Arthur didn't like him. So Arthur wasn't feeling bad about what he was about to do. Sooner than he thought, the door clicked and opened. Arthur lashed out.

There really wasn't space to swing his arm back, so instead he threw over and down; the swing connected directly between Gwaine's eyes. His head jerked back with the force and Arthur pushed him down, following up and clipping Gwaine on the side of the head. It stunned him enough. Arthur assessed the room, Leon wasn't in it.

"Hey!" Gwaine grabbed his ankle and Arthur responded by kicking him in the stomach. Gwaine let go and Arthur reached the door. He spun the catch and opened the door. He knew these doors well enough, and as he ran out he looked at room 5 opposite. That put him in room eight and he turned to see Leon running down the corridor. Arthur smirked and ran to the window at the other end. He leapt up and kicked it. As it always did it crashed open under the pressure. Arthur jumped out onto the roof of the utility room at the side of the motel and ran over the flat surface to drop down on the bins at the back. From there he bounced to the ground and took out on a flat run into the darkness.

He had to keep the road in sight. It was the only source of light as he moved away from the building. But he kept jogging. One of them might come after him, but one would have to waste time telling Uther what was happening. Arthur jogged along, keeping to the woods that flanked the carriageway, but staying close enough that he could see the lights, and ahead of him was the petrol station.

Before he reached it he slowed to a walk and paused for breath, so he didn't look like he was running from something. Then he unlaced his boot and shifting his foot, pulled out a note. He didn't have much to waste but he was starting to feel tired again. The exertion had done nothing to help, nor had the steam from the shower. Arthur accepted the fact that he needed something to eat. He could get what he needed and then move on down the road. He could hopefully bypass the town and hitch a lift. He didn't want to risk going for a bus or train. CCTV would mean he was traceable and he didn't want to go anywhere there were people.

It was a risk going into the petrol station but he was hungry, Arthur felt like doubling over with pain as his stomach cramped. He had to eat, he had no strength, and he couldn't keep this up. As he walked onto the forecourt he straightened himself up, and combed his hair down before he walked in. At the first sight he paused, a packet of croissants. This was where Gwaine had come to pick up food. He would have to keep moving after this, they knew this area, he couldn't go back to town, he had to keep going down the carriage way.

Arthur assessed that Gwaine had walked in, picked up the croissants and then gone down the first aisle where the chocolate was. There was a drinks cabinet just by the till. He hadn't even bothered to look around. Arthur veered left and went to the chillers on the far side of the room. He picked up four packets of sandwiches and a bottle of water, and then he stopped, almost reaching for a bottle of coke. Changing his mind he went a shelf higher to the isotonic drinks and picked one up. He took the burden to the cash desk and watched the girl's reaction. She glanced out onto the forecourt, which was busy, several people were filling and Arthur saw a group of men joshing around an estate car filled with equipment. They looked like builders, workmen or something. He looked to clean to blend in with them.

"I hope you or your friends are paying for the petrol," she said, not noticing the discrepancy.

"One of them is petrol, food is mine," Arthur smiled. She rang up the amount and Arthur handed over the note. It was with some regret. He needed the money, but it would do no good if he was too weak. She bagged it up for him and he went out, heading across the forecourt and skirting the car where the group of men were still messing about. One of them was trying to get the credit card function on the dispenser to work, much to the hilarity of his friends. Arthur carried on walking, and ran into the darkness of the carriageway.

He shrugged the handles of the bag over his arm and then pulled out a sandwich packet and he ripped it open, biting into the bread and almost groaning in relief as he chewed. He got the taste of chicken, with spices. Arthur's mind registered it at chicken tikka, not a taste he was fond of, but he would take anything at that moment. He stuffed it in his mouth, ate that one and threw the packet, pulled out another and he carried on walking.

Arthur carried on down the carriage way, eating, drinking and keeping out of sight as best he could. He went through all the sandwiches and the water, so he was painfully bloated, but it was a good feeling. After all the shit over the last day, it was better. He hiccupped loudly and rubbed at his full belly like he was pregnant. The lights of the town lay as his right, but he walked over the junction and went straight down the carriageway. The motorway was his best bet to get away, trying to hitch a lift wasn't safe, but he could do it. He discarded the sandwich wrappers as he went, and then the carrier bag.

The last bottle of drink he kept in his hand and he figured he could just carry it as he walked and hoped for a lift. He had to veer closer to the road as the undergrowth thickened. Just beyond was a parking area, Arthur had to walk out along it, trudging carefully, keeping as far away from the edge as possible. Lights flashed behind him and he jumped as a car swerved into the area. Arthur didn't pause but it shifted ahead of him and he recognised the estate car from the garage. He hesitated as the passenger door opened. The man in the seat turned to look at him.

"You need a lift somewhere mate?"

His voice was friendly, but Arthur walked up to the car and glanced in. They were all eying him and his heart sunk as he realised his mistake. He should have stayed away from the road, even if it meant falling over in the wood. It was quite normal to see prostitutes and rent boys walking along here, back from the motel, when a punter wouldn't give a lift back, or from the lay-by where they stood now, where cars sometimes parked up. A little down the way, one girl was just getting into a car. It was a good trick, get in and persuade them to turn around and go back to the motel, or just pull into the car park. It was something Arthur had done before.

Now he didn't think he could do that.

"No, I'm fine," Arthur said. He wasn't fooling anyone. If he was walking along here then they could easily assume what they were assuming. They were right, a few clean clothes were never going to prevent that. Arthur knew what he looked like. His stomach churned, his full stomach flipping over painfully.

He backed up as the back door opened and the man in the seat stepped out.

"Hey, we're just trying to be friendly."

The body language said otherwise. Arthur debated his options as the man in the passenger seat stepped out. He couldn't turn and run, the trees and weeds were too tightly packed for that. It was why he had been forced to step into the lights of the carriageway in the first place. Arthur knew he couldn't try running down and into the space of woods, but if they chased they would have him, he was hemmed in.

So he did the only thing he could. He smiled. It was not the usual professional smile that he used for pulling a punter in. This was the smile that he forced onto his face, his mind working against his muscles. The smile he was using now came out when he knew the situation his was in was complete shit, and he had no way of getting out of it.

"If you could get me to the motorway that would be good."

"Yeah, we can give you a ride," the man from the backseat said, indicating that Arthur should get in. With the smile in place and his stomach churning Arthur stepped forward, climbing in, his breath hitching as he took in the smell of sweat and alcohol. He kept the smile in place as he was hemmed in and asked, as brightly as he could.

"So where are you guys headed then?"

The silence was ominous.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Uther was fit to explode. Gwaine had an ice pack to his face. Leon looked like he wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it.

"How could you lose him? I thought I could trust both of you to keep him under control."

"Hey, we didn't know he could fight this well," Gwaine said. Uther glared.

"This was not a fight," Merlin said quietly. "For Arthur this is just survival."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"You get away from the people that are scaring you," Morgana said. "He doesn't trust us and I don't think the well timed revelation helped."

"You told me to tell him!" Uther yelled.

"He had to know," Merlin said. "What else can we tell him? That magic was thrust from this dimension, but it can't be contained forever. Things are bleeding through and he is the one destined to be the warrior in contrast to my peaceful side. That he is a long lost king, but one that is not forgotten, and that he is born from a legend. I don't see him getting that; maybe the parent thing might have just made him think."

"Yeah, he's really thinking that he needs away from us weirdoes," Morgana said. "Can you find him, Merlin?"

"He's blanketed by my spell but although that will protect him from other magic users, it's my spell I can follow it. I think. I need to scry for him. You still have his clothes don't you?"

"Yes, we do, Merlin," Gwaine said in a subdued fashion. Merlin got up and snatched them from him. Morgana followed Merlin.

"I'll help you."

"Just find him!" Uther snapped. "If he has a spell around him, can people still pick up the trace?"

"It's a spell to hide him Uther," Merlin said.

"And he's never been surrounded by a spell before, the energetic traces still linger. The spell you used limits someone's ability to hone down a location. They have never had any means to locate him before. Have we just narrowed down the search area and left him with no protection."

Merlin bit on his lip. "Possibly, no… I don't know. It was made to conceal the fact that we had found him. They would be able to trace us, but wouldn't know why we were here. I mean, we move around all the time, we are covered in spells."

"And now he is blanketed by a spell that keeps him safe if we are near?" Uther asked, his voice low and steady. Merlin nodded.

"Yes."

"Find him! For heavens sake, find him!"