The Lost Prince

4. The Journey

The nine knights, the former maid, the king of Camelot and the prince of Nelthon-not that they knew of this-rode for hours through the forests. It was only just past midday and Gwaine was getting on everyone's nerves. Well, almost everyone's. The knights of Nelthon were laughing at the rogue knight's stories and also shared their stories too. Merlin was filled with self loathing. He should have fought. He should have stayed. How could he let his knights drug him and take him out of Nelthon? He was in a sombre mood through the remainder of the day. "We'll set up camp. It will be dark soon." Arthur spoke. Merlin looked up at the sky and it was indeed sunset. Merlin lost track of time. Everyone dismounted their horses and began to make camp.

"I'll go get the firewood." Merlin said shortly and set off through the woods without complaint. He really needed some time to think alone. When he was far enough from the others, he sat down, leaning against a tree. He took out his royal seal and twirled it around in his hands. He rubbed his thumb over the edge of it. He missed Nelthon so much. Then a thought struck him that never occurred to him before now. What happens after they gain back the kingdom? Would he rule as king?

Or go back to Camelot? It is his duty to rule Nelthon but it is his destiny to protect Arthur in Camelot to unite the lands of Albion and bring magic back to the realm which he has yet to do. 'Great.' He thought bitterly. 'Just great. Just what I needed, another problem to add to the list.' He leant his head against the tree groaning in annoyance. Why can't his life ever be simple? But alas, things have a way of complicating matters for him. He can't fulfil his destiny whilst ruling in a completely different kingdom. Unless...

"Merlin?" Lancelot's voice broke him out of his musings. "Merlin?"

He must have been gone longer than he thought. "Here, Lancelot." He called back standing up, his legs stiff from sitting down too long.

"Merlin, there you are. You've been gone for an hour." Lancelot said when he spotted Merlin, Yes, he has been out here longer than he thought. He looked at the sun and saw that it was just hovering over the horizon.

"Ah, right. About that..." Merlin trailed off not knowing what to say. He picked up the pile of firewood that lay next to him and started to walk back to the others, only to be stopped by Lancelot.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He lied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're a terrible liar Merlin. How did you manage to keep your magic a secret?" He asked rhetorically.

"Well, you know Arthur, Gwen and the knights. Oblivious prats. All of them." He tried to joke and plaster a fake smile on his face but with no such luck. Lancelot saw straight through his façade. Lancelot pulled a face. Merlin decided to go with the half truth. "I'm just thinking about what would happen when we get to my-uh, Prince Christian's hide out and thinking about the upcoming battle."

"You'll be fine Merlin." Lancelot said. "You do have magic, after all. And powerful  magic too."

"True." Merlin smiled a bit. It's true, he does have powerful magic. Extremely powerful magic. If he were being honest, it scares him sometimes. Also, he's the best swordsman in the five Kingdoms. But, of course, Lancelot doesn't know that. "Come on we should get back to the others." Merlin said, knowing they've been out here too long, and they headed back to camp.

By the time they reached the others, it was becoming dark. "What took you so long?" Arthur asked clearly annoyed. "You didn't get lost again did you?"

"Of course not." Merlin said getting defensive. "I have a lot on my mind that's all. I lost track of time."

"How can you lose track of time collecting firewood?"

"Well maybe you should go collect it sometime, sire." Merlin snapped. Merlin's knights looked at each other knowingly. Arthur was treading on dangerous ground. Whenever Merlin snaps at someone, it doesn't bode well for the person on the receiving end.

However, Arthur wasn't fazed. "Well I would, but I won't for two--no three--reasons. One, you're my servant. Two, you have to do what I say. Three, oh what was the third one again? Oh yeah, I'm the King of Camelot."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm the-" He cut himself off immediately. He shouldn't of said that.

"You're the... What?"

"The one who... Does the cooking." He quickly came up with an excuse. "Now I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten since this morning, and even then I didn't have much. So if you don't mind, I'm going to cook us dinner." Merlin subconsciously slipped into his princely demeanour. Arthur, Gwen and the knights blinked, surprised at the level of authority in the manservant's voice. Merlin went over to build a fire. "Byrnè." He whispered over the firewood. His eyes burned gold, and the wood caught alight. He started to cook the dinner whilst everyone took their seats by the fire. After about ten minutes or so, the stew was done. "Here." He said shortly to each knight, Arthur and Gwen, giving them a bowl each before having one of his own.

"Thanks my-Merlin." Lewis said almost about to use Merlin's title but after a death glare from the prince, he corrected himself. If looks could kill, he would end up with the same fate as Nimueh on the Isle of the Blessed. The Camelotians eyed the exchange wearily. Merlin grabbed his bowl, walked away from the group and sat down against a tree. He ate his dinner in silence. He closed his eyes as he felt tears build up in them. He blinked furiously to get rid of them.

"What's wrong with Merlin?" He hears Elyan ask the group.

"I'll go talk to him." Arthur said and Merlin heard him get up and walk in his direction. Merlin internally groaned in annoyance. Can't he have five minutes peace? Apparently not. Merlin reluctantly opened his eyes to look into those of Camelot's king. "Merlin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Merlin said quietly moving his head so he was looking straight ahead.

"Merlin you can talk to us you know." Arthur persisted softly.

"Nothing is wrong, sire."

"Merlin-"

"I'm fine." He said sharply successfully cutting Arthur off. The finality in his voice was overwhelming, that Arthur shut up immediately.

"If you insist." With that he left. Merlin leaned back and closed his eyes. He was breathing deeply to get his emotions under control. He thought about his people and regret at how he left them to fend for themselves. When thoughts of his traitorous uncle, Gelmand, came to mind, he was struggling to control his anger-and magic which was thrumming in his finger tips. He will get his kingdom back one way or another. Even it's the last thing he does.