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Chapter Text

A horn sounded behind them as they stumbled through the undergrowth. The howls that followed couldn't have been any more foreboding, even if they had come from the Black Hound itself. Shouts echoed in the surrounding cliffs and made it nearly impossible to pinpoint where they originated. Instead, they just continued to run blindly forwards, unsure if they were headed towards freedom or into a trap.

Soon the sound of hoofbeats and yells of victory coming from in front of them made it clear that they were headed for the last of the two, and that drove them back, deeper into the woods.

They zigzagged through the trees, nearly tripping when they looked over their shoulders, dreading what they would see. No thoughts filled their heads, only their instinctual need to survive was driving their shaking legs to continue.

Until, finally, the sound of their hunters disappeared, leaving only the silence of the woods and their thundering heartbeat behind. They both collapsed to the ground, nearly choking on air as they forced it through their raw throats.

The many weeks of being hunted like animals had taught them to push their body past their limits and had thereby outlived things that should have been impossible. But it all came with a price. They were both sickly thin and together with their ruined clothes, once rich and colourful, made it look like they were wandering scarecrows. Their will to survive might not have dimmed, but it wouldn’t be long before their body betrayed them and they would no longer have the strength to stand back up.

"What now?" The first one asked as he finally regained his breath.

The other just shook his head.

After several tense minutes, he stood up, swaying a little on his still unsteady legs. He ran a hand through his golden hair and sighed. "We need to rest. Find some food." He looked around and gestured to their surroundings. "I will scout the area to see if I can find some water."

He started to walk away when the other man stopped him.

"Arthur."

Arthur turned back around slowly. His friend's tone was soft, but his eyes shone with determination.

"It was his own choice."

Arthur shook his head; in denial or something else, he wasn’t even sure himself.

"He was still one of my men, still my responsibility!" Arthur countered.

"Sir Ethan chose to give his life for you. It is what we as knights are here for; protecting our leader!"

Arthur looked at his last standing knight. Sir Leon was only a few years older than Arthur. He had been his father's First Knight for years, a skilled fighter and an even better friend. He had even been the one to teach Arthur swordplay, up until the day the young prince finally beat his teacher. The knight had been the first to congratulate his student with a proud smile, and the knowledge that his friend would always be there to back him up, should he need it, encouraged Arthur to trust himself every time a new problem arose.

This time, though, he knew it wouldn't be enough.

"I'm not a leader. Not anymore."

Then Arthur turned around again, and quickly let the forest hide him from his friend's disappointed gaze.

Chapter Text

The next day was spent sneaking though the very same woods they had run through yesterday.

They hadn't seen any signs of neither horse nor hound the whole day, but they had not wanted to take any chances and had decided to cover their tracks before doing anything else. That turned out to be quite hard though as they had just blindly thrown themselves through the bushes in their mad dash to get away from their pursuers the day before. To say that their path was easy to follow was an understatement.

They could cover up their footsteps, but broken twigs and crushed plants weren't that easy to hide. Instead, they gave up and started to create new tracks instead.

An hour later the forest was filled with different trails crossing each other, circling around trees only to suddenly end as they backtracked to their starting point. Hopefully, the hounds would be confused by the multiple tracks.

As a last touch, they waded a good mile up a cold creek before continuing to increase the distance to their hunters, who would certainly pickup to hunt again sooner rather than later.

When they finally arrived at the road again it was with a better mood than they had had in days. Hope filled their hearts once more as thoughts of death were momentary forgotten, and there was a new lightness in their steps that hadn't been there before.

The sun shined from a light blue sky through the day and that itself was a difference from the grey rainy days and cold autumn nights they had had before. It was as if Mother Nature was laughing together with them.

It was beginning to darkening by the time they broke free from the thick forest and laid eyes on the first village in days.

"Where do you think we are?" Leon asked, but Arthur didn't have an answer. He only knew they were north of Camelot. A great many smaller kingdoms laid up here, but none had been large or wealthy enough to trade with and so he didn't know much about them. He ended up just giving a shrug.

In the village, the farmers were slowly arriving back from the fields, but drunken laughter could already be heard from the local tavern.

A warm meal and a tankard of mead sounded like heaven after living for weeks on half-raw meat as it had been too dangerous to light a real fire.

They decided to try their luck. They had no money, only a single rabbit-skin, and even as they had tried to wash up a little in a nearby stream, only so much could be done without a proper bath and clean clothes.

As they entered most of the men, not used to many visitors, looked up. Suspicion was evident in their eyes, and a hush fell over the crowd.

"Hu a' ye strangers 'sturb'n me tav'n?"

The question came from the barkeeper, his breath tainted with ale and something that smelled a little like what you would find in a pigsty, and Arthur suddenly wondered if coming here had been such a good idea after all.

Arthur had to blink once at the strange accent; it sounded like the man had something stuck in his throat. Maybe one of the teeth he seemed to be missing. Arthur forced a smile on his face and tried to relax his tense shoulders. To the right, Leon did the same, but with much more success in Arthur's opinion.

"We are simply travellers wishing for a little to strengthen us on before we continue on our way." He tried to say it in a dismissive and calm tone but was unsure how well it worked.

Leon shifted his stance slightly beside him, and the barkeeper narrowed his eyes but led them to a table.

As they sat down, Arthur could feel eyes on his back and turned his head as discreetly as possible. There was only one table, occupied by four cloaked people. None of them seemed interested in him; instead, they were whispering together. Maybe they were druids? – Arthur had often heard his father talking about them. "Be careful out there, son. The druids live out in those woods. They only bring death and destruction wherever they go." "They are practising the devil's work; only the flames can cleanse their souls …" "Magic corrupts even the most innocent child; always remember that."

Thinking on his father hurt, but even if the man himself was gone his teaching could still serve as a warning.

He watched the group from the corner of his eyes. Were they looking their way? Surely the druids could use magic to watch them even with their backs turned? He had heard they could even read a person's thoughts.

Arthur shuddered and turned back towards Leon.

Not long after they had been fed with good broth and given a warm drink, they had begun to relax once more.

Sadly, it didn't last long.

"Me mon'y?" The barkeeper grumbled from behind the former prince. Arthur definitely didn't jump; he was merely a little ... Startled that's all.

Arthur slowly turned his head, the easy smile on his face so big it hurt.

"Well, we-"

"No mon'y!?" A few of the other costumers had now again taken an interest in their conversation.

Before either Leon or Arthur could do anything more, the barkeeper had nodded to a few other big men and the two friends soon found themselves surrounded and dragged outside, the barkeeper following close behind.

They were pushed to the ground by two of the men and held there. The barkeeper walked up before them and gave them a dark grin. Not for the first time, Arthur wished they hadn't lost their swords; it would be much more difficult to fight them without any kind weapon.

"I'll sho' ye wha' we do te pe'pl thinkin' they ca' trick me for me mon'y."

Arthur looked at Leon and caught his gaze, giving him a silent message to wait until his signal. The men not holding them took a step closer, making ready to strike.

The man before Arthur lifted his arm back to throw the first punch, and Arthur tensed in preparation with Leon following his example – and then they were all interrupted by a new voice calling out to them.

"Can I help you with anything, my good men?"

Arthur opened his mouth slightly in shock – one of the cloaked people from the tavern stood before him, his equally cloaked friends fanning out protectively behind him.

Chapter Text

The barkeeper narrowed his eyes in anger, and his companions shifted a little to confront the possible new threat. Sadly, they still kept their main focus on their captives, so Arthur didn't dare try anything before knowing whose side the cloaked strangers were on.

"Ye cu'd get out of me way be'or –. " The man stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening and skin paling when the stranger chose to reach up and lift his hood, exposing his face.

Arthur stared at the young, dark-haired man standing before him - two crystal blue eyes looked back, a strange fire burning within them.

The barkeeper began to stutter something incomprehensible until the man tossed him a bag of gold coins, which the barkeeper caught. "Will that be enough?"

The barkeeper quickly bobbed his head up and down, before he and his henchmen all hurried back into the tavern, but not without first throwing a death-glare in Arthur's direction.

"Well …" the blue-eyed stranger turned towards the two former knights, "that was very close, my friend!" He shot Arthur a big grin, making him look younger than he had first appeared.

Arthur frowned. "I don't know you …"

"Of course not – we have never met before, though …"

"… and still you called me 'friend'?!" Arthur finished with a snort. The stranger just looked a little confused.

"Well, I was trying to be nice … But if you are too much of an arse to see that …"

Arthur gave a strangled snort in surprise. No one had ever spoken to him in that way, and now this stranger just stood there and insulted him … He really was beginning to get tired of this town. They should have stayed back in the woods.

He turned around and signalled to Leon to do the same. He would away from there as quickly as possible, before he decided to hit the strange and caused a scene.

Sadly the stranger didn't think the same.

"Hey!"

Running steps followed him, but he didn't turn to look. He sped up his step.

An arm caught his arm and turned him around. Once again Arthur was face to face with the young stranger.

The man shook his head at him. "If you don't want to thank me for saving your ungrateful backside, then the least you can do is to tell me your name!" The possible druid said, while simultaneously lifting an eyebrow.

Arthur blinked rather surprised. His name? He couldn't tell this potential magic-user his name! He opened his mouth to say exactly that, when he discovered that the stranger's attention was no longer directed to his answer but instead on the arm he had grabbed, or rather, the hand attached to it.

Arthur followed his gaze and cursed inside his head. Why did everything just go wrong these days?

On his middle finger sat, for everyone to see, his royal seal.

He had forgotten to take it off before they went into the tavern. The ones who hunted them before already knew his identity, and he had therefore not even thought about hiding it before.

He just hoped the stranger wouldn't recognize it for what it was.

For a few seconds, no one moved. Then the stranger slowly lifted his gaze and stepped back.

"Well, well, seems we are in the presence of royalty."

No such luck.

Chapter Text

Arthur stared, unblinking, at the dusty path before him. The strangers were bantering and laughing with each other, undisturbed by the prisoners' silence. A few birds were singing in the bushes, and all in all, everything radiated peace, something which made Arthur's mood sour even more; being kidnapped was hardly peaceful.

They weren't druids, that Arthur was sure of now; the druids' only weapon was magic.

After the revelation, the evening before it had gone from bad to worse. With one spoken word from the dark-haired man, Arthur and Leon had found themselves suddenly unable to move. Not that they could have run either way, as the rest of the men drew bows and swords.

Now, riding in daylight and without the cloaks covering most of them, the men looked deceptively normal, yet their horses alone made it clear that they were no peasants. The weapons at their side and leather waistcoat could have marked them as bandits, yet the tunics they wore underneath were of expensive fabrics and they carried an air around them that a group of lawless never could, but that Arthur recognized from the knights and lords back in Camelot.

The horse Arthur and Leon were currently sitting on snorted and shook its head. The midday sun was making the flies more aggressive and combined with the constant heat, made the journey a living hell for both men and beasts. At least am I not wearing my chainmail, Arthur thought.

One of the men suddenly halted his horse and called out to the leader; the dark-haired youth that had recognized Arthur's ring the evening before. "Maybe we should take a break?" The man in question looked over his shoulder, then at the sky, and nodded. Arthur could have sighed in relief; riding back to back with your friend while your hands were bound was not very comfortable.

The man who had 'offered' his horse to the two former knights lifted them off without batting an eye; Arthur would have protested but the shorthaired man reminded him of a big bear and he wisely chose not to say anything.

While the horses were being watered, the giant showed Arthur and Leon to a spot under a tree before carefully untying their hands. "We will be watching," the man said, while they rubbed their sore wrists.

"Could we get some water?" Leon asked as the huge man began to walk back; he nodded once and then joined his comrades.

Resting against the tree Arthur took a moment to relax and watch their captors, before addressing his friend.

"We need to get away from here," Arthur whispered. Leon nodded but didn't look him in the eye. "What is it?" Arthur asked, noticing his friend's hesitance.

The knight looked up, worry shining in his eyes. "Maybe we should wait and see where they are taking us?"

"They are sorcerers! I don't want to find out what they want with us!" Arthur hissed, shooting a quick look back at their captors to make sure they hadn't heard.

Leon nodded again and Arthur forced himself to calm down; he knew Leon had a hard time speaking his mind, a habit Arthur had tried to break on their flight through the woods, and acting like this was only making it harder for his only remaining friend.

"I ... What did you want to say?" he asked and grimaced; he wasn't good at apologizing at all, but Leon seemed to get his point because he relaxed a bit more against the tree and gave him a small smile.

"We haven't got any supplies and they are probably our best chance to find another village …"

It was Arthur's turn to nod; Leon had a fair point. Even if they both knew that they would have a problem getting supplies even if they found another village. What had the world come to? A few months ago he was the Crown Prince of a wealthy kingdom and now he was contemplating stealing.

"Will you follow willingly this time, or do we have to bind your hands again?" The two men looked up at the man standing before them. His dark hair was a bit too long, giving him a roguish and the glint in his eyes set the former prince on edge.

Leon quickly agreed before Arthur had the chance to reply, earning him sly grin from the man. "This way, my lords," the man gestured towards the horses while giving a fake bow. "Maybe we have reached the point where we can get to know each other's names?"

"We will not give anything to you" Arthur growled.

The stranger rolled his eyes. "I know yours, Pendragon, I meant you civilized friend, but I suppose it doesn't matter. We need to hurry if we want to reach Glaslyn before the gates close …"

"Glaslyn?" Arthur shared Leon's confused look, he had never heard the name before either.

"Yes, Glaslyn Castle, The pearl of Norwallia."

Chapter Text

As they slowly made progress the land around them changed. Villages appeared, and though they never went close, the party was greeted by farmers working in the fields and travellers nodding as they passed them by. Arthur tensed every time. It wasn't how peasants usually greeted strangers; he had seen that first hand when he and Leon came into the tavern. His suspicions that these people were someone important only increased.

The feeling of unease kept him on edge even as their journey continued for hours in the heat, even as the rest of the group began to lounge slightly in their saddles.

Only their leader, Merlin, as Arthur now knew courtesy to their new roguish friend, kept alert and continued to look out for any lurking dangers. Arthur had to respect him a little for that, though he would never admit that out loud. And not at all to a sorcerer.

He wanted to talk it over with Leon. The older knight would maybe be able to confirm his suspicions on the matter, yet he had not managed to get a quiet moment since their last break.

Their new 'friend' had introduced himself as Gwaine and had kept up a steady stream of tavern stories and bad jokes that Arthur had been the butt of more often than not. At the moment Gwaine was once again trying to coax Leon to reveal his name. Not that it was going well for him as Leon continued refusing in a way that was much more polite than the man deserved.

Arthur knew he would never have managed to keep that calm in the situation had he been the target.

Gwaine wasn't giving up though and just went back to telling another one of his tales with a smirk. This time though, it led to the huge man riding in front of them to turn around and quip, "Yes, we all remember that one. Gwaine; the conqueror of taverns and every tavern keeper's fear. Or -" The man crooked his head to one side as if he was thinking. "Was it every barmaid's fear? I don't seem to remember."

Gwaine grinned at the man: "Jealous Percival? Not everyone has the gifts needed to charm a damsel."

"Yes," Percival agreed, "you're certainly lacking them."

The other men from the group joined in with the laughter as Gwaine tried to cuff the large man over the head and nearly fell down from his horse when Percival ducked out of the way.

Arthur just crossed his arms and scowled at their banter.

The woods had disappeared long disappeared behind them. Instead, fields grew whenever a small village appeared on the horizon, and where no corn grew, green hills filled the terrain around them.

Hours went by and the party began to speed up as the sun slowly sank on the sky and its light changed colour.

They were met by the sound of a river. Merlin stopped his horse and shouted over his shoulder, "Home!" His men cheered and shared his smile.

The dark-haired man nodded to Gwaine and the knight grinned back, spurring his horse into a canter with a shout and disappearing down the road, towards the roaring waters. Merlin rolled his eyes and gestured for the rest to follow, but at a much safer speed.

The road went beside a steep hill and when they rounded the next corner they suddenly had the river before them. The water glittered like gemstones and even Arthur couldn't deny its beauty. He wasn't happy though when he discovered that their formerly large road, was now so small that they had to dismount and lead the horses behind them.

The river had been born at the end of the last ice age and over a span of thousands of years had eaten its way into the hills around it; creating the cliff Arthur was currently walking on and was now threatening to wash them away should they lose their footing.

The strangers didn't seem to care and just continued to banter and laugh with each other. Arthur kept his face a mask and refused to look down at the roaring water. Never show weakness.

The path continued to wind around the hill towards the top. Arthur got a feeling of being watched; a prickling at his neck. He looked around and scanned the ledges and caves of the cliff. Some of them were several meters wide, and even if no paths let to them Arthur was sure humans could have found a way in. No one was there though; they were completely alone. And yet he knew someone or something was watching their every move.

When they reached the other side and the path widened out once more, Arthur gave a small sigh of relief. It quickly turned into an annoyed huff when he saw that another path joined them from the north.

"We could have gone the other way around!?"

Merlin turned around and frowned. "Well, yes, but that would mean another hour of riding." Then he smirked. "Afraid of heights, Pendragon?"

Arthur glared. "Of course not!"

The young man's grin didn't falter as he turned back to path as a sand-coloured castle rose up before them.

Glaslyn.

The drawbridge was slowly lowered as they neared, and the party was greeted at the gates by a regiment of soldiers that had waited for them on the other side. The soldiers escorted them through the lower town - so much like Camelot's, Arthur noted. With the obvious difference being that some of the people greeted them by using magic to summon birds and flowers. Maybe that had changed in Camelot too now.

All the houses were built of the same sandlike-stone as the walls and castle. They seemed very fragile like they would collapse if a bird a little too large chose to rest on the roof, but Arthur somehow doubted it. The road of soil turned into one of cobblestone and they were let into the inner courtyard.

Again it reminded Arthur of Camelot, but at the same time, it was very different. The courtyard was small and round. In the middle was a beautiful well with stone birds sitting on it. Around it was a bed of purple heather, giving a mild scent of spring in the air. A plant Arthur knew came from very far up North.

They were stopped behind the well, right in front of double doors leading into the castle. Stable boys ran from a side road and took the reins from the men, who were still quietly talking with each other. Merlin looked up at Arthur and nodded to the broad-shouldered man, Percival, who had led their shared horse. The other members of the group disappeared into the crowd.

Percival came over to stand behind Arthur and Leon and Merlin gestured for them to follow. The men seemed very familiar with the castle's structure, and combined with the greeting from the people and the fact that no one had bothered to stop them from entering, confirmed Arthur's theory; they were probably knights, even if none of them wore a cape or chain mail.

They were led down one long corridor after the other, all deserted; Arthur wondered why. They met Gwaine briefly on the way, as the man came walking in the opposite direction. He grinned at them and called over his shoulder, "remember not to get stuck down there. We will keep a spot for you!"

"Keep some ale too!" Percival shouted after Gwaine.

"No promises!"

When they finally came to the throne room, Arthur had to swallow as memories that he had tried to buried, resurfaced. The room reminded him so strongly of Camelot; it may have been a little smaller, a little more grey, and instead of the red tapestries of Camelot dark greens hung about with the design of a white, snakelike dragon holding a druid spiral symbol. Despite all this, it still looked so much like the home they had left behind.

Arthur managed to take it all in before his gaze was drawn to the middle of the room. Three large chairs stood in a half-circle around a round table. They were all carefully carved out of oak, with spirals, runes and plants curling around each other, but they were too small to really be called thrones even if that was what Arthur assumed they were. They all seemed empty at first, but when he looked closer he could make out a dark shadow on one of the armrests. The shadow twisted and stretched like a cat. Two golden dots looked at them; the eyes only half open as the creature yawned, a little flame escaping between its sharp teeth.

The dragon crooked its head to the side and regarded him with a huff of black smoke. Arthur stared back in wonder. He had been told all his life that the dragons and their lords had long since died out. The dragon snapped its gaze to the side when a voice rose from the right side of the room.

"It's good to see you home again, son."

Chapter Text

A well-dressed man, maybe a decade younger than Uther had been when he died, stepped into Arthur's line of sight.

Dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard encased a thinly lined face, and the man's calculating brown eyes rested briefly on Arthur and Leon before they moved back to Merlin, where their gaze softened.

"Father." Merlin greeted the man with a huge smile.

Arthur had a brief moment thinking that the two people looked nothing alike except for their hair-colour when the older man's face lit up in a huge smile and stepped forwards to give his son a short hug, and then he could see that they shared the exact same overly bright smile.

The former Crown Prince shifted a bit on his feet, and the movement caught the man's attention and made him step away from his son.

"And who are our guests?" The man asked, the question directed at Merlin, though the man still faced Arthur.

"Eh." Merlin ran a hand through his hair, suddenly not at all comfortable which made Arthur tense right back up. "Father, this is Arthur, we picked him and his friend up when we stayed at Benton."

Arthur refused to look away as the man continued to gaze at him. "Arthur?" The man's tone was calm, but there was a hardness to it that Arthur didn't like.

Behind the man, Merlin was shifting his gaze from his father to Arthur and back again, until he seemingly came to a decision and stepped forwards and laid a hand on his father's shoulder, which finally made the man look away from Arthur, much to the later's relief.

It was short-lived however when Merlin handed his father Arthur's ring.

The man visible clenched his jaw when he recognized the emblem. "Arthur Pendragon," he said in a cold tone and shifted his gaze back to the former Prince.

Arthur straightened. "Yes," he said. He would have loved to say a lot more, but he wasn't delusional enough to believe that they were anything other than prisoners in this castle. For now it would do them no good to provoke the man, clearly the lord or king of the area, any further than Arthur's name alone seemed to do. Then again; the man's son was a sorcerer and Arthur's father had quite a reputation.

The man turned his gaze towards Percival. "Leave us." The large man bowed and left, closing the doors behind him.

"And your friend?" Merlin's father asked, his gaze shifting to Arthur's right.

"Leon Gauness." No titles. Like Arthur, Leon had given them up as soon as he fled with Arthur. The last name revealed his noble bloodline all the same.

The man gave a quick nod, and strode towards the throne-like chairs that Arthur had noticed earlier, where he sat down on the middle on and scratched the small black dragon still lying on the armrest. The creature closed its eyes and made an odd noise, that sounded between a rumble and a purr.

"My name is Balinor Ambrosius, King of Norwallia; the land that you're currently residing in."

Norwallia did sound familiar, but Arthur was sure that he had never seen neither the name Balinor nor Ambrosius mentioned at the various dinners with foreign ambassadors or in any of the stately documents that had made their way across his desk during his years as Crown Prince.

"I did hear that Uther had been overthrown and Camelot fallen." The man sent them a look and Arthur knew he was gauging their reaction to his next words. "By his own daughter no less."

The man paused and waited.

Arthur had expected the words, yet they still managed to make him grit his teeth to keep his outburst in. Leon stepped closer to him, and Arthur used the silent support from his friend to unclench his jaw.

"I had thought you had perished with him."

This finally made Arthur snapped. He would go no longer without knowing his and Leon's fate. Good first impressions be damned. "Well, you thought wrong. What now?"

Merlin shifted and subtly shook his head. Arthur ignored him.

The man's eyes had darkened further. "Arrogant and impatient; just like your father." The man turned his attention to his son. "You shouldn't have brought him here. His mere presence is a threat to his people. And that's if Morgana doesn't declare war on us for harbouring them."

Arthur had to give it to Merlin; he didn't back down even to his father, the earlier show of confidence hadn't been only for show.

"I doubt Morgana knows that we have them, even if she knows that they are in the kingdom, and I thought it would better to bring them to a place where we can keep an eye on them," Merlin said, his hands behind his straight back in respect, though his gaze was unflinching as it met his father's.

"It would be better if they were dead so we didn't have to worry about having to keep an eye on them."

"Father-" Merlin began, but Arthur had had enough of them talking about them as if they weren't standing right in front of them. He felt Leon shift behind him, as his friend prepared to either attack or flee on Arthur's command. He truly was a loyal friend Arthur hoped it wouldn't cost him his life as it had Sir Ethan.

"You're going to kill us then? Eliminate the threat."

"I should." The man glared at him. "But I am not Uther; I don't punish people for what they could potentially do, only what they have done."

This time it was only Leon physically grabbing his arm, that prevented Arthur from storming up and break the man's nose. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before glaring at the man again. The man looked slightly disappointed that he couldn't get a rise out of the Pendragon, but Arthur could see Merlin smiling behind his father's back, and suddenly Arthur felt a small sense of victory.

"Besides, we are meant to celebrate life tonight. Killing anyone, even a Pendragon, would be a poor start of the festival."

"Festival?" Arthur asked, confused at the sudden change of topic.

"The midsummer festival," Merlin explained. "Did you not celebrate it at Camelot?"

"We did," Arthur said, but his attention was inwards. Midsummer. That meant it had been close to five weeks since Camelot had fallen and they had been on the run, the last two of them on foot after they had been unable to acquire a new set of fresh horses. Had it really been that long?

"Come," Merlin said and gestured for them to follow. Leon subtly guiding Arthur along, as the later was still lost in thought. "We can discuss what to do with you later, right now we need to get outside to the bonfire before Gwaine has drunk all the ale."

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

I don't own Merlin

'The bonfire' turned out to be one huge mound of unlit tinder placed in the middle of the stony bank of the Glaslyn River. The same river that they had travelled by a few hours before, and that Merlin explained had given the castle its name.

"There used to stand the ruins of an old tower here that the locals called Dinas Emrys, but my father's father had the ruins removed and build a castle instead. The tower had been used to watch out for invading armies from Snowdonia, as the border is just over that mountain ridge," Merlin explained and pointed out the ridge as they walked along the path towards the bonfire. He had slipped away for a short while after they had left the throne room and let Percival lead them back outside, before later somehow catching up and joining them on the second half of their track to the river. Both Merlin and Percival now wore clothes that in both colours and material didn't look any different from the ones the many peasants wore who were walking in the same direction.

Arthur kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead, trying to look like he was ignoring the other man completely. In reality, he had always been fascinated with the history of the other kingdoms in Albion; lending ideas from the kingdoms of old to think of improvements for Camelot for once he himself became king. Hearing such stories now left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth, as the thought of what could have been, should have been, had he just noticed-

"You're not afraid of them invading anymore?" Leon's question was enough to interrupting Arthur's track of thoughts, to the former Prince's great relief. It was quickly replaced with gratitude as Arthur began to realise what his friend was doing; knowing Norwallia's relations with its surrounding kingdoms might come in handy should they ever be able to escape or even just be able to get a letter out with a plead of political asylum.

If Arthur remembered correctly, Camelot had had a fine, if not exactly close relation with Snowdonia and its king, as it had been one of the few kingdoms they had had a trading agreement with. Maybe they would be willing to help them in exchange for land should Arthur be lucky enough to take back the throne. Though that would be something in the very far future.

Arthur looked to the side when Merlin didn't answer immediately and wondered if Leon might have unknowingly crossed a line. Merlin met his gaze with a slight smile as if he knew exactly what they were doing and found it amusing. It did nothing to calm Arthur down.

"Nah," Merlin denied. "My father has quite a strong friendship with the current King, Thomas Gwynedd. His son, Elyan served as his squire for a while and his daughter Guinevere still lives here as one of Mother's Ladies in waiting."

"Really now," Arthur said, but didn't get the chance to ask any more questions as they had finally arrived at the huge bonfire.

A lot of people had already gathered, all clad in rags in brown, white and red colours, like that of peasants, yet going with Percival and Merlin's appearances this didn't actually say anything about their social status. Arthur got the feeling that this was entirely intended, and couldn't get himself to disapprove. Nobility had never really held the same meaning to him as it had to his father; he had seen too many sons of nobles' act anything else than noble, and even had to admit that he himself wasn't always much better.

Several smaller fires were spread around farther up the bank and the smell of roasted meat and porridge invaded Arthur's senses and made him realise how long it had been since he had eaten anything.

Merlin led them to one of these fires and they were greeted by laughing Gwaine, who slung his arm around both Merlin and Percival as soon as they were in reach. "My friends. You've finally arrived," Gwaine yelled a bit too loudly and Arthur could see Merlin wincing at the volume even as he grinned. Percival just rolled his eyes at the shorter man, removed Gwaine's arm and sat down beside a dark-haired man that Arthur recognized as being the last of Merlin's knights to have been a part of their group, though he had never gotten the man's name.

Besides the dark-haired man sat a dark-skinned woman, who looked up as their group arrived. Her eyes widened and a warm smile spread across her face as she saw them. Arthur couldn't help but notice how her brown eyes lit up when she smiled and felt an answering smile starting to emerge even though her gaze wasn't even directed at him.

"Merlin!" The woman called out and stood up to give the sorcerer a quick hug. Arthur's stomach suddenly did a flip, and he briefly wondered if they were courting. Not that it is important right now.

"Do I get a hug as well, my lady," Gwaine asked and Arthur sent him an angry look before he even noticed what he was doing. The woman just raised her eyebrows at him but didn't look angry at all. As if this was a normal behaviour from the rouge man. Arthur wasn't exactly surprised.

"I'm sure you can find someone here who would appreciate your advances, sir knight," the woman said, her voice kind but stern, not that it seemed to deter Gwaine.

The knight placed a hand above his heart in a dramatic gesture. "You hurt me, my lady Gwen! I have eyes for no one else, as none here is a beautiful as you."

Gwen just laughed and that seemed to be the end of the charade as they all sat down around the fire. Everyone was served a bowl of porridge, yet Arthur barely tasted it as he ate, too focused on what was happening around him.

While he caught himself sending Gwaine angry glances every time he talked with Gwen, he couldn't help to secretly agree with the man's earlier statement. She truly was beautiful, and every time she smiled or laughed Arthur felt warm and happy in a way he wasn't sure he had felt before.

Instead of focusing on this feeling, he instead took care to listen as introductions were made. Gwen, or Guinevere as he found out her full name was, had frowned when Merlin explained who Arthur and Leon were and why they were there, but didn't say anything of it. Neither did Lancelot, as the dark-haired man had introduced himself as. Instead, he somehow ended up in a discussion with Leon about the differences in the Knight's Code in Camelot and Norwallia, and to Arthurs big surprise they seemed to get along well.

The night proceeded with a generous amount of ale and food being handed out, and Arthur felt content just listening to the others talking and laughing. He had nearly forgotten their situation and had even started enjoying himself as Leon dragged him into his and the surprisingly pleasant Lancelot's conversation.

It was only when darkness had truly fallen and the fires and the stars were the only things lightening up their surroundings that his newly acquired peace of mind was shattered as the celebration truly began with an enormous dragon flying over their heads and lighting the bonfire with a huge ball of fire.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

I don't own Merlin

The fire flared up towards the sky and the crowd cheered. Meanwhile, Arthur had nearly fallen backwards down from the log he was sitting on and instinctually grabbed after a sword that wasn't there.

Beside him, Leon startled as well, yet managed to control his reaction much better than Arthur.

Merlin sent them a look that Arthur couldn't quite read, and commented, "Midsummer is also the time where we celebrate our magical bonds."

"That was a dragon!" Arthur exclaimed, unable to say anything else than the obvious in his shock.

It had taken Arthur years to figure out why his father often reacted in a burst of anger whenever Arthur's patrol had arrived home a bit later than expected, or if he had been wounded in a fight. He had always believed that it was because his father had been disappointed; that he had once again failed his father's expectations.

Only later did Arthur realise that his father had been scared of losing his only son and that the anger was a way of hiding this.

It took him even longer to admit that this was a trait he had inherited.

Merlin laughed. "It's good to hear that your eyes are working perfectly well, Pendragon, then it's only your head we need to worry about."

Arthur felt his cheeks heat a bit in embarrassment and hoped the fire wasn't bright enough for the others to see. No one had talked to him like that before.

"You're one to talk, Merlin," he growled, "You're the one who thought it was a good idea to have a dragon light the fire! They are not like- … like horses - or hounds. They are monsters! They eat people!"

He would have continued, completely disregarding the fact that he should probably not insult the prince of the kingdom that currently held them prisoner, had Leon not laid a hand on his shoulder, that made him finally notice Merlin's slightly pinched expression and narrowed eyes.

There was just something about the younger man that rubbed him the wrong way, though he was not quite ready to look deeper into why yet.

"The Ambrosius' held the title of Dragonlords long before they held the throne," Merlin said before turning back to the fire and poking the tinder so that sparks flew up. "Besides, dragons are intelligent magical creatures that are quite peaceful towards humans unless provoked."

Merlin looked like he wanted to say something more, maybe about how the Pendragons were known to do exactly that. How Uther had hunted the dragons on their land to extinction. Yet he didn't and kept his gaze on the flames.

Arthur found himself at a loss of words as well. He wasn't even surprised; he had seen the dragon in the throne room after all.

The relaxed atmosphere between them was gone, and he knew it was his fault. The continued silence made him feel uneasy, yet he could not get himself to apologize.

Kings don't apologize, his father had always said when Arthur had been younger. It makes you look weak, and weak kings don't last long.

But his father was gone, probably cold in an unmarked grave somewhere if Morgana hadn't just let the crows feast on his dead body, and Arthur wasn't a king.

Right now he wasn't sure what he was. An exiled prince? A prisoner? Could you truly be your own person if you didn't decide where to go and when?

He opted to watch the people around him. The dragon had landed close to the bonfire and a small crowd had gathered around it. Arthur could make out the children's expression of awe in the firelight while they kept close to their parents, yet he could not detect any real fear.

Now that he truly looked he could see that most had gathered close to the bonfire, and soon music filled the night as minstrels began to play a lively tune. People danced around the fire and sang in a language that Arthur didn't understand, but thought sounded old.

Arthur didn't know how long he sat there and watched the people celebrating, but when he came out of his trance Leon had disappeared from his site and Merlin was the only other person still sitting around their small fire.

When the dancing died out long after the small fires had burned low, Arthur noticed the silhouette of a man walking out in the shallow waters of the river. The man raised his hands and suddenly the sky was lit up by a small yellow ball of light. Arthur tensed. He had never seen magic being practised so openly before. And never for anything else than destruction.

Fearing the worst, he stood up, ready to get the people away from the danger.

And yet; the light didn't explode or hurt anyone. It just floated higher up in the sky, its reflection clearly on the water.

Soon more people stepped out from the crowd and balls of light in many different colours joined the yellow light. More and more light filled the sky, and Arthur jumped when a blue and white light suddenly soured passed him. He turned around and saw Merlin staring up at the sky with a serene expression, his hand still raised as he guided his ball of light higher up in the sky.

Looking back at the light, Arthur could no longer deny their beauty. He swallowed, his throat felt raw and his eyes burned slightly. The smoke from the fire must have gotten to him.

"Do you want some?"

Arthur startled at the question. Merlin had stepped around the fire and now stood beside him. A jug with ale in one hand and two empty mugs in the other.

The former prince reached out and took the offered drink, thanking Merlin with a nod as the other man filled his mug. Merlin gave him a small smile back, and somehow Arthur was sure he had understood his subtle peace offering.

The tension that had filled the air cleared and Arthur finally relaxed his stance for the first time since the dragon arrived.

"How did you manage to hide that from Gwaine?" Arthur asked as he sat back down on his place on the log and Merlin laughed.

"It isn't as hard as you might think."

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

I don't own Merlin

Later, after several more jugs of ale had appeared from thin air and disappeared just as quickly, their talk had somehow fallen on their relationship with their fathers.

"I think." Arthur paused as he thought about how he should formulate it. "I think I just wanted him to proud of me. He never openly praised anyone you know, not me, not his men, yet I would do anything to receive a pat on the shoulder."

"Even lead a charge against a druid camp." Merlin didn't sound angry or as if he was judging him, only as if he was trying to understand. Though it didn't make any difference; Arthur could still sometimes hear their screams in his dreams. No one needed to condemn him for what he did that day; the guilt eating him from the inside was worse torture than anything they could inflict him.

"Yes. I ordered the men to spare the women and children, but they were my father's men and I was young-" Arthur stopped trying to explain. "It's no excuse."

"No." Merlin agreed. "But the fact that you can see that it was wrong already shows you as a better person than your father."

Arthur wasn't sure how to answer to that. On one hand, he couldn't help and agree, on the other; he still loved his father. Already before he died had he come to accept that his father wasn't infallible, neither as a king nor a father and yet he could not hate him. Not even a little. He could only promise himself to be better.

Now looking at the sorcerer beside him, a fact he had completely forgotten until this moment; a man who was also the son of a dragonlord and the prince of a kingdom that openly welcomed magic in their midst. And with the display of glowing lights earlier …

Maybe his father had been wrong about magic as well.

"Why am I even telling you this?" Arthur asked. He wasn't angry, just lost.

"People tell me that I'm a good listener." Merlin was back to poking in the embers. The fire flared up for a moment, though it had no more lumber to burn. The gold in the sorcerer's eyes slowly faded as the fire died down again.

"Right."

"I am!" Merlin exclaimed in a much too defensive tone, which made Arthur grin despite their earlier conversation. Merlin had the ability to cheer him up quicker than he thought possible. "And luckily for you," Merlin continued, "I'm good at keeping secrets as well."

"If you say so."

"I am saying so," Merlin said, suddenly serious again. "I'll not tell it to anyone else, because it's not my secret to tell."

"Thank you," Arthur said. The words came easier than expected. Even though they had only known each other for only a few days, and only really talked for a few hours, Arthur felt like the man knew him better than any of his knights had ever done, except for Leon of course. Merlin and Leon shared the ability to see Arthur instead of the son of Uther Pendragon, yet where Leon had taken years before he really got through the façade that Arthur had built around himself, Merlin just seemed to look right through it as if it wasn't even there.

It scared him a bit, though not as much as it probably should. He briefly wondered how much the ale was affecting him. This conversation was certainly not one he would have had if he had been sober.

"I'll show you the truth, Arthur."

Arthur frowned a bit at the use of his name. Until now Merlin had not called him anything else than Pendragon. "The truth of what?" He asked though he was quite certain he already.

"Of magic. I'll talk with my father. I want you to meet the dragons. Really meet them."

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

I don't own Merlin

The next day started with a stolen blanket, a pounding headache and Merlin's wide grin as he threw the curtains open to let the harsh sunlight in. None of which Arthur found very pleasing.

He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, not caring of acting like a child when it was much too early after a night that ended much too late, and his body was still reminding him that drinking ale after barely getting anything to eat for weeks was a very bad decision. Yes, all those adverbs were entirely necessary to describe how utterly horrible he felt and not at all an exaggeration.

"You can't do that," he said to the general direction of where he thought Merlin was. His voice still muffled by the pillow.

"Of course I can. This is my home."

Arthur lifted the pillow enough to send the other man a glare that Merlin skilfully ignored while opening the door for two servants carrying several plates with food and a pitcher of something Arthur really hoped was water. He nearly forgave Merlin for the rude awakening. Nearly. Until the smell of food reached his nose, and he had to focus on keeping the admittedly little content of his stomach inside.

"I'm sure," he said while carefully sitting up in the bed, "that there are rules somewhere forbidding disturbing your guests this early in the morning."

He watched Merlin's reaction closely. Guests weren't exactly how he would describe his and Leon's stay at Glaslyn Castle, though his room was admittedly nice and the food far from what was usually given to prisoners. He wanted to know where they stood after last night; while he would now hesitate to call Merlin his enemy that was still not the same as saying they were friends.

A voice whispered that just think this was still a long way from his father's teaching, but he ignored it.

Merlin didn't react to the comment at all, though Arthur doubted that he didn't understand what he was implying. "My castle, my rules," Merlin said and his grin suddenly got even wider. "Oh, and I have something from Alice, our Court Physician." He placed a small vial on the table beside the plates. "Now eat up, we haven't got a lot of time because of you sleeping in."

Arthur shook his head and muttered something under his breath about sleeping in and idiots not knowing what that meant, but he got up regardless. The vial tasted just as bad as those Gaius used to make, but it helped immediately, and he no longer felt like throwing up as he looked at the food. It actually worked a little too well from what he remembered, and he sent a look at Merlin, who just shrugged. Not even having the decency to act sheepish.

"Alice is also or residing healer."

Arthur just rolled his eyes. "Of course she is," he said and began to eat. Magical Princes, dragons … This really shouldn't surprise him. And it didn't if he had to be honest. And what more; it didn't bother him either.

He quickly changed the subject to avoid thinking about it too closely.

"So you have already talked with your father?" He asked. He wasn't all that happy with the thought of meeting several huge fire-spewing lizards, regardless of Merlin thinking that they wouldn't eat him. Who's to say they didn't make an exception?

He wished once again that he still had his sword.

"Yes."

Arthur waited, but Merlin didn't say anymore. Instead, the young sorcerer stole a grape from one of Arthur's plates. When the former Crown Prince sent him a glare, Merlin just raised his brow in challenge.

"And," Arthur began while quickly placing the plate with fruit out of Merlin's reach when the younger went for another grape, "what did he say?"

Merlin, apparently not getting Arthur not so subtle message of staying away from his food, waved his hand and with a flash of gold the plate levitated from the table towards the sorcerer, where it stayed in the air in easy reach.

"He laughed. And then he said to go ahead."

Arthur gave up on his plate and focused completely on Merlin's words.

"Wonderful," he said and grimaced.

'Wonderful' was really not the word Arthur would use to describe the dragon caves.

Dark, dank maybe even unnerving, though he would never admit it, would have worked a lot better.

And they smelled weird; a mix of wet mulch and old leaves in autumn together with the raw feeling of smoke in the back of his throat.

They used no torch to find their way. Instead, Merlin had conjured a smaller version of the blue ball of light from the midsummer festival. It cast them both in a cold, eerie light so different from what he was used to. It felt like they were travelling through another world and not caves dug into the cliffside of the Glaslyn River.

They had walked in complete silence for a good while when Arthur broke it.

"Are you sure that you know the way?" Arthur asked in a low voice after they had turned down another side tunnel, the fifth if Arthur had counted right, and he was confident enough in his skills in navigation to say that he had.

Something about the caves made him wary of speaking too loudly. Maybe it was the fact that for such big creatures the dragons certainly knew how to move silently for though Merlin had assured him that the cave system wasn't all that big, the lengths of the tunnels barely reaching a mile and a half in total, they had yet to hear anything other than the echo their own steps.

"I have walked this path more than a thousand times. I would be able to find the way even without the light."

"And yet, somehow, that still doesn't reassure me."

Merlin snorted but didn't comment and so they walked in silence once more.

It wasn't long after that the tunnel they were walking down turned to the left before suddenly widening into an enormous cavern.

Merlin stopped just short of walking into it, nearly making Arthur running into him before the former prince noticed why Merlin had stopped.

The cavern wasn't empty.

Actually, it could nearly be described as crowded.

Huge amounts of scaly hides in every colour he could imagine were lying around, sometimes halfway on top of the others, yet barely a sound was heard. The only thing that made Arthur sure that the creatures were, in fact, alive was the heavy intakes of breath that made the creatures bodies move every once in a while.

Merlin held a finger to his mouth and then slowly walked into the cavern.

Arthur hesitated for a moment before following. No one had ever called him a coward, yet he was wondering if this was once of the acts of recklessness that Leon liked to accuse him of.

There was no clear path through the creatures, and more than once Arthur nearly stepped on a tail or tripped over an enormous claw.

When they finally got through it and into another tunnel he realised that his heart was thundering in his chest and his breathing was just slightly too quick to be called normal.

It was another few turns before he had gathered his remaining courage and dared to speak again.

"I thought you said that we were meeting the dragons?"

"I did. But most are still asleep after yesterday's hunt and would prefer not to be disturbed more than necessary."

Arthur looked back over his should, though they were a long way from the cave now. "They didn't seem very disturbed by our presence."

Merlin kept his gaze on the path before him even as he answered. "They were ignoring us, that's not the same."

"They were sleeping."

This got the sorcerer to turn his head for a moment, if only to roll his eyes at the former prince. Much to Arthur's annoyance. "They were pretending to sleep. You can't sneak up on a dragon, Arthur." Merlin's tone very much implied that he thought him stupid for even thinking that.

Arthur huffed. It wasn't like he had grown up with baby dragons in the throne room or something like that. And yet he had always been fascinated with the creatures (though admittedly only because of his own surname at the beginning) and now that he found out that not only weren't they extinct, but thriving just a few weeks of travel from Camelot's borders, and that people were apparently living peacefully side by side with them for years, decades, maybe even centuries.

Well, it wouldn't be an understatement to say that he was intrigued.

"You know, I never pegged dragons as social creatures."

He saw Merlin smile slightly. "There's still a lot to tell about them, but later. Right now I'll introduce you to Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon," he said and at the next moment, their path ended in another cave.

This cave was even bigger than the last one, one only had a small platform for them to stand before the path ended in a dark abyss.

Large stalactites hung from the ceiling, some of them still had drops of water falling from them; letting them grow a few inches every century. Others had been dry for decades, as the small streams of water running from the ceiling either changing path or drying out.

Arthur could hear the faint roaring from a river far below them.

There was no dragon in sight.

He voiced that thought, yet Merlin barely managed to open his mouth to reply, when a whoosh of huge leathery wings interrupted him.

The dragon landed surprisingly gently on a single stalagmite that had managed to grow so high that it was nearly at the same hight as their platform. It kept its wings stretched out, maybe for balance as it gripped its uneven perch with its claws, and their size made Arthur feel impossibly small.

"I am here, young Pendragon," Kilgharrah said. The dragon's voice sounded like when Gaius had opened one of his oldest parchments; dry with a slight crackle as if it was threatening to turn to dust if you opened it too quickly. Though Kilgharrah's voice completely lagged the same fragility. "I've waited a long time for your arrival."

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

I don't own Merlin

Arthur wasn't sure what bothered him the most; the fact that dragons could talk, or that this dragon had apparently known that he would arrive and had waited for it. He had never felt wrong-footed so often in such a short time as he had been in the day he had spent in Norwallia.

Merlin rolled his eyes at his side and muttered something about 'dragons' and 'dramatic', but Arthur barely listened, too focused on the huge dragon staring at him. And so he blurted out the first intelligent sentence he could think on.

"You can talk."

When looking back, it might just have been the first thing that popped into his head.

The dragon looked amused. Another thing Arthur hadn't been aware of was possible.

"So can you."

There was an awkward silence where they stared at each other until it was broken by a snort and a half-choked laugh that was quickly disguised as a cough when Arthur sent the sorcerer a glare.

"Sorry," Merlin choked out as the fake cough developed into a real one, while he was still shaking from suppressed laughter.

"It's not funny, Merlin," Arthur hissed at him through gritted teeth.

Merlin coughed a last time and cleared his throat, before donning a serious expression with his hands clasped behind his back and chin slightly lifted.

"No, of course not," Merlin said in a quite convincing serious tone, though Arthur noticed him biting his lips that revealed how close the man was to start laughing once again.

"You might be good at keeping secrets, Merlin, but you're an awful liar," Arthur said, thinking on their conversation the night before.

Merlin just shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

"I guess not," Arthur admitted with a frown.

"Destiny is truly peculiar in how she makes things unfold."

Arthur nearly jumped as he was reminded of them not actually being alone. His long time on the road must truly have tired him mentally as well as physically if he could forget being in the presence of a huge fire-breathing lizard as soon as he was no longer actively hunted.

Why had that fact turned into the feeling of safety so quickly? And why at all, when their situation hardly could be described as 'safe'?

"Destiny?" Merlin asked, suddenly very interested in the dragon's words. "You've said something like that before." The sorcerer glanced at Arthur and his eyes widened, and he snapped his head back towards the old creature. "You can't mean ..?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the obvious avoidance of an explanation. "Mean what?" He demanded, but both sorcerer and dragon ignored him to Arthur's frustration.

"Indeed," the dragon said. "It seems the time for the Once and Future King is approaching."

Merlin shook his head slightly, yet it didn't look like it was in denial of the words but more as a gesture of a man unsure of how to proceed. "Are you certain it's him?" He asked and side-eyed Arthur with a slight frown. "He doesn't quite … fit the role."

Arthur gave a sound of disagreement. He might have no idea what they were talking about, but he was quite sure he had just been insulted. He was ignored once more.

"Maybe it is your destiny to change that." With those words the dragon spread his wings and flew away, ignoring Merlin's shout for him to come back. The sorcerer didn't look surprised only tired.

"Is it-he … always like that?" Arthur asked stumbling around the correct pronoun, still not used to think of dragons as a sentient being instead of a man-eating beast.

Merlin smiled slightly, either at his question of choice of words Arthur wasn't sure. Maybe both.

"What? Cryptic and dramatic?"

Arthur nodded.

Merlin grinned. "Always. I think he gets a kick out of it, to be honest."

On their way back to the castle, Merlin let him through the flower gardens. One of his mother's projects. Instead of hiring several professional gardeners, she had employed orphan children to assist the head gardener, Cerdan, a former druid that had traded herbs and roots for colourful flowers and green hedges.

They met one of the children, Daegal, who told them that the queen would like to see them, and followed him through the intricacies paths leading through the gardens until they arrived at a small open place with a few benches surrounded by apple trees, where the queen and two well-dressed ladies had gathered to talk in the morning sun. Arthur recognised Guinevere as one of the ladies and sent her a smile when she looked up. She gave him a small smile back. His stomach suddenly felt weird, and he wondered if he might have eaten his breakfast too quickly this morning

When they came closer, Arthur noticed with surprise that the queen own gown wasn't of fine silk, but instead of a rougher material, though decorated with several fine patterns, and that there were a few dirty patches on it. She was just in the middle of wiping her hands in a kerchief that one of her ladies in waiting had given her when she noticed them.

She gave them a huge warm smile, that Merlin reciprocated. "Mother," he greeted, "Freya, Gwen." He gave them all a small half-bow. Arthur noticed that Freya had very red cheeks though the sun wasn't very bright this early in the morning, he was quickly distracted though, as Merlin stepped closer and gave his mother a hug."

"Merlin," she said when she released him, the smile stayed in place but her voice turned a bit stern. "I didn't see you at all yesterday. Gwen had to tell me that you had arrived."

Merlin's expression turned sheepish and Arthur watched amused as the sorcerer looked down as he scratched his neck. The Queen's opinion clearly meant a lot to the Prince. Arthur filed the fact away for later.

"Sorry mother," Merlin said as he looked up through his lashes at the queen with a small smile. He nodded towards where Arthur was standing, still a few steps away so he wasn't intruding on the conversation between mother and son. "I was busy."

"So I've heard," she said and turned to the former prince. All the sternness disappeared from her expression, and Arthur was surprised to note that her smile was just as warm and sincere as it had been when she greeted her son. "Welcome to Norwallia, Arthur."

Arthur couldn't help but smile back at the kind lady and bowed. "Thank you, your highness."

The queen's smile didn't get smaller but she waved her hand for him to rise. "Please dear, it's just Hunith."

That evening Arthur and Leon were invited to dine with the Royal Family, and though the first few minutes had been spent in awkward silence until Hunith had somehow broken it with one sentence, the rest of the evening was relaxed and surprisingly pleasant, and Arthur was finally assured that while they might not be free to leave quite yet, it might not be as horrible a situation as he thought as first.

Even if a certain prince and sorcerer had a knack for annoying him with strange insults.