Arthur's footsteps echoed down the empty corridor that he strolled through; his eyes trained in front of him but his mind wandering all around. A thick coat hung over him, and his hands were balled into tight fists against his sides to stave off the chill nipping at his fingers.

Autumn had lasted longer than usual before giving way to a sudden snowfall that claimed the changing of seasons. Fires burned stronger in family hearths, the tavern was crammed with both guards getting off duty and weary men wanting to warm themselves after a hard day of labor in the frigid air.

For Arthur however, the changing seasons meant little. The end of the year ceremonies his father held would be arriving soon, as would his father's old friends. There would be fewer training sessions with his knights, and longer evenings spent going over the taxes of the kingdom while his father continued to teach him of his various roles that would come with being king.

Thankfully what had occurred before the snowfall was the finishing of the western towers. The work had been swift and sure, and before long the great tower of the citadel had risen again. There was still work to be done on the inside, and many areas waited on glass for the windows. But the citadel was whole again, and with it, the kingdom felt whole as well. Well, almost the whole kingdom.

There was one person that had struggled while the rest of Camelot thrived, and Arthur knew the snow had only made him further despondent in his chambers. Merlin's recovery had been slow and agonizing, and not just for the servant.

Arthur had been forced to replace him during the time he was absent, and the prince had quickly come to realize that no one else had the unique ability to both anger and amuse him at the same time. But with the season's change and the passage of time, Merlin had recovered. He'd begun to walk easier, to stay upright for longer, and even began doing some smaller tasks around the physician's tower.

A couple of weeks ago he'd even started working for Arthur again a couple of days out of the week. The boy was exhausted, and the injuries had taken much out of him, but at least he was standing. And breathing. And alive.

Even though he had come back to work however, things weren't what they were. The two of them spoke, they were civil, and Arthur would try to goad the boy as he once had, but Merlin rarely looked at him when it wasn't needed, and only answered in a professional manner. It was infuriating.

Elacard had never been found, only the shredded remains of a knight's cape had remained. But Merlin, he was alive, and he was okay, and he acted as if what Arthur had done was unforgivable. And maybe it was. At this point the prince wasn't really sure. But that evening, with most of the guards in the tavern and the freshly fallen snow light and thin on the ground, Arthur was determined to finally bring back some normality into his, and his servant's, life.

Climbing the stairwell that led to the old sorcerer's tower, Arthur knew he'd find Merlin there. For the last few weeks, since that first night he'd caught the boy there, the royal had discovered just how often Merlin could be found there.

He wasn't sure what it was about the place that the boy loved so much, but the prince hadn't questioned it. The tower wasn't being used for anything, and it seemed as though most of the citadel had forgotten that it even existed.

Arthur had noticed that even those that passed the stairwell, or watched as the prince went up, never said a word. So why should he care how often Merlin was there? And just as he'd suspected, when Arthur paused at the landing and looked down the short hallway that had a balcony to one side, he found Merlin sitting on the ledge and staring out at the forest.

The boy was dressed in a baggy pair of trousers and a loose tunic, and a neckerchief was wrapped around his neck. His clothes had been too loose recently Arthur had noticed; a lot of his weight lost from so long on bedrest. A gentle breeze drifted through the air and Merlin shuddered, drawing his knees up towards his chest as his chin lifted to look up at the grey sky.

Arthur took a step forward and announced his presence with a scoff. "You're going to catch your death sitting out here without a cloak."

The boy's head turned at his voice and his shoulders visibly tensed. Most of Merlin's scars had healed, which Arthur had found shocking, though Gaius had always spoken highly of his potions in the past. Yet even with his scarf, the trail of one burn rising towards his hair and slipping beneath the fabric of his neckerchief and down his back was evidence of Merlin's trauma when he turned.

"What are you doing up here?" Merlin asked, his tone defensive as Arthur hesitated.

When had they become this? When had they lost the friendship that had bound them together for so long?

"I've come looking for you, obviously." Arthur said after a slight pause, wondering if he should've come at all.

"But why?" Merlin asked, his brows pinching together in question as Arthur folded his arms across his chest.

"Because you're to pack for a hunt."

"A hunt?" Merlin asked incredulously, his legs sliding out and the tension falling from his shoulders as shock overtook his face. "Arthur, it's the middle of the night, and it's winter."

"And?" The prince queried, arching a brow and enjoying the expression he'd drawn out. "A hunt is a hunt no matter the day or the weather."

"But it's night."

"Yes, and its tradition."

"To hunt at night?"

"Why do you keep saying it like that?" Arthur demanded, walking closer and resting his hands on the balcony, only a few inches from one of the boy's boots.

"Because it's nighttime Arthur! Nobody hunts at night!"

"Well, it's a tradition." The prince frowned, watching while Merlin's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward.

"A tradition?"

"Yes, to go hunting after the first snowfall."

"Since when?" The boy himself scoffed as Arthur's mind reeled to come up with an answer.

Why was he being such a pain about all of this? Why couldn't he just agree like a normal servant and be done with it?

"Since always, of course. Why exactly are you questioning your prince?"

"Because we didn't do this last year."

"I was busy last year."

"Right." Merlin nodded slowly, tapping his fingers against the balcony. "And you're sure you're not making this up for some reason?"

"What reason could I possibly have for making this up? Now get up and grab my weapons."

"Gaius wouldn't want me exerting myself like this." Merlin said slowly, as if desperately looking for an excuse.

"It will be an easy trip, Merlin, and we'll be near the citadel because as you said it's nighttime."

Hesitating, the boy looked down and gripped the ledge he was perched on tightly. "Do you think this is a good idea?" Something in his tone had shifted, and Arthur knew he was no longer talking about the trip being unusual.

"I think it's a very good idea." The prince spoke earnestly, watching as Merlin studied him before reluctantly nodding.

"Alright." Pushing himself up, the boy moved with ease, brushing his hands off against his trousers. "I guess I don't really have a say in the matter either way, do I?"

"No, you don't." Arthur smirked as the boy passed him, and in the moonlight as he stalked away, the prince saw the smallest trace of a smile on the boy's lips. "Meet me in the courtyard when you're finished, we'll leave as soon as you're ready." Arthur called after him, barely hearing the mumble of acknowledgment from the boy before he disappeared down the stairwell. This would be good for them; the prince was sure of it.


After some time had passed, Arthur found himself standing outside under the moonlight, the appearance of which was brighter than usual as it reflected off the layer of snow that had fallen throughout the day.

It didn't take long to spot his servant as he walked towards him, as aside from the occasional guard making their mandatory rounds, they were the only people out at such an hour. The prince wondered briefly if he should have run this idea past Gaius after all, making certain that the boy was fit for such a trip, but he'd been worried the physician would say no, and he didn't plan to be gone for long.

As Merlin approached, Arthur noticed a small bag slung over the boy's shoulders while the royal's crossbow hung from his arms. Normally the boy had no trouble carrying his things for a day—or night—hunting trip, but the bag tugged down on his shoulders and the crossbow seemed to weigh heavily in his arms.

"It's about time," Arthur spoke once the boy was within earshot. "I've been waiting for ages in the cold."

"Perhaps it's a sign that we should return to our homes." Merlin attempted halfheartedly as Arthur leaned forward and snatched the crossbow from his grasp.

"I already told you that you're not getting out of this Merlin. Now give me that before you drop and ruin it." Turning away quickly before the boy could give him that silent look of gratitude that always made him uncomfortable, Arthur started off down the path.

Both of them had on heavy cloaks to fight off the cold, but Arthur took note of the extra layers he himself had, and the threadbare gloves that his servant wore. The walk would help to warm them, but he knew pushing his servant for too long would only end in added bedrest down the road. The night was beautiful however, the world as quiet as a mouse as they walked through the gates and headed on the path towards the forest.

"How is your recovery coming?" Arthur asked after a stretch of silence had passed between them.

"It's fine," Merlin replied, offering his usual short answer that had Arthur stifling a sigh. "Gaius said I've been making remarkable progress." The boy continued just as the prince had opened his mouth to speak again. "He called it a miracle, actually."

Merlin's voice faded at the end, and Arthur's eyes lifted to the trees as the canopy of branches appeared above them at the forest's edge.

"Well, that's something, I suppose." Arthur said quietly, the two of them lapsing back into their silence.

After a few more minutes of walking the prince paused, listening to the quiet of the forest around them.

"Everything is asleep right now." Merlin muttered with a yawn, leaning against a tree and causing a faint dusting of snow to fall from the branches above.

"Exactly, now is the perfect time to hunt because of that." Arthur could feel Merlin's stare without even looking at him, and the prince couldn't blame him. His excuses and explanations were growing thinner with each minute that passed.

"Is that how that works?" Merlin asked with a scoff that quickly turned into an exaggerated coughing fit the moment Arthur turned towards him with a scowl.

"I wouldn't expect you to know anything useful about hunting, what with how lazy you are." The prince declared with a tilt of his chin, earning a smirk and a poorly covered roll of his servant's eyes. This was what he'd wanted. Things going back to normal, even if it was slow.

"Oh of course, Sire. My mistake."

"Yes, it is."

Starting off again, Arthur flexed his fingers carefully around his crossbow, neither of the boy's commenting that he'd failed to even load an arrow while they walked. Another few minutes passed before there was a rustling in the brush ahead of them and Arthur was pausing, holding a hand up to stop the boy as well.

Without a word, Arthur finally pulled free an arrow and carefully set it in place, steadying his aim and peering into the brush that shook again. Without warning a dark shadow took to the sky and Arthur fired, watching as the arrow sailed towards the target only to barely skim the side of a large bird. The creature shuddered and tilted, but quickly righted itself and flew into the branches above them and swiftly disappeared from view.

"Damn." Arthur cursed, lowering his bow and sighing, watching while the air around his face clouded. "We might as well head back to—" The royal's words were cut off when the brush rustled again, and a high pitched cry caught their attention.

"What was that?" Merlin whispered, creeping forward while Arthur frowned.

"I'm not sure, it sounded like—"

The cry rang out again, and before the prince could finish his thought Merlin was moving forward, creeping softly towards the brush without a care for his own safety.

"Merlin! What are you doing?" Arthur hissed, surprised at the fact the boy could even move that quietly as he knelt down on his knees in the snow and paused.

The cry sounded a third time, only weaker, and Arthur found himself moving closer as well while Merlin's hands lifted and carefully parted the brush. As both boys looked past the bramble, Arthur found his mouth dropping open while Merlin gasped.

Huddled close to the base of a tree and sunk into the light snow was a small owl who had one of its wings awkwardly splayed. The bird let out another cry, this one coming out angrier, and it shuffled back away from them.

Frowning at the way it moved, Arthur knew immediately that it had fallen and injured its wing. With the worsening weather and the lack of protection, the baby bird wouldn't last for very long.

Pressing his lips together tightly, Arthur lifted his crossbow and carefully took aim with a second arrow just as Merlin glanced over his shoulder at him. Before the prince could shoot, the boy threw his arms up and blocked his shot, the servant's blue eyes wide with horror.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, his hands trembling as the baby owl screeched again.

"It's injured, Merlin. I'm going to put it out of its misery. Or would you rather I leave it here to starve, or to be snatched up by a wolf?"

"It's just hurt, Arthur, it's not half dead!"

"Well, what do you want me to do then?" The prince scowled, lowering his bow as the boy's shoulders relaxed.

"We're going to help it." Merlin spoke with determination before he turned and knelt close to the bird again, only to receive an angry cry in return.

Holding his bow with one hand, Arthur grabbed his friend's shoulder and quickly yanked him back. "Do you want to get bitten? That thing will attack you if you get too close."

"It's a baby owl, not a rabid fox." Merlin muttered, though there was hesitation as he leaned in again. After a moment of deliberation, Merlin pulled his neckerchief off from around his neck and unfolded the fabric.

"You're being an idiot." Arthur frowned as the boy carefully covered his hands with the scarf and inched forward, causing the owl to shift back again and flutter its good wing uselessly. "I don't want to hear your complaining when that thing attacks your face."

"Shut up." Merlin murmured, leaning closer until his body blocked the prince's view of the bird.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" Arthur asked, his voice rising in indignation as Merlin's shoulders tensed.

"Arthur please."

Letting out a soft huff, the prince obliged to the boy's plea, folding his arms in annoyance as he glanced back behind him. The servant made soft shushing noises, and Arthur rolled his eyes. What was Merlin hoping to do, convince the creature that he was its mother?

Nevertheless, after a few moments the boy reemerged from the brush, and wrapped carefully in both the neckerchief and his hands was a small, fluffy mound with big, bright eyes. For a moment all Arthur could do was stare. The creature had nestled into Merlin's hands and was now staring at the prince with an intelligence he hadn't expected from the small creature.

"We need to go back." Merlin spoke softly, breaking the trance the royal had fallen into as the man's eyes lifted to his friend's.

"We just got out here, Merlin." The prince frowned as the boy stared at him incredulously.

"I need to ask Gaius for something to help mend it's wing, Arthur."

Opening his mouth to object, Arthur stopped himself, instead letting out a long, annoyed sigh. "Fine."

"Really?" Merlin stared, his mouth falling open while Arthur turned and began the trek back to the citadel.

"You'll just pout until I say fine anyways, so yes, fine, we'll go back."

Hearing the boy's hurried footsteps behind him, Arthur glanced back and saw the first grin on the boy's face in weeks. And he supposed that in the end, seeing Merlin happy and talking to him was all he'd wanted in the first place.

"You can't keep that thing as a pet, you know." The royal warned, eyeing the way Merlin was holding the bird close.

"Of course not."

Arching a dubious brow, Arthur shook his head. "Then stop staring at it as if it's your new best friend."

"Perhaps he won't call me an idiot." Merlin said in a soft, soothing voice while one finger carefully stroked the baby owl's feathers.

Arthur couldn't stop the snort that escape him as he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't count on that."


A/N

I am sorry guys, this one took ages. Since the last time I posted I celebrated my one year anniversary with my boyfriend and found out he was moving to a different state for work. The last few weeks have been spent packing him up, crying, and spending every second I could with him before he left.

I really appreciate everyone's patience! The good news though is that while he is gone for the next few months, I'll be reverting back to being a hermit, and therefor will have a lot more time to write! So hopefully we can expect several exciting chapters in the next few months to come!

I am VERY excited about this story arc before season three hits, and I hope you all will enjoy it too! Though it will deviate a bit from the show in some ways from here on out, I think (and hope) it will be for the better!