A/N - Hey everyone! Wow... it's been a long time since I last wrote a story. I'm sorry for the sudden absence. I haven't had much of a chance to just sit down and write, but hopefully, now that I have an idea and story started, I'll get myself back to writing regularly again!

Thank you all for reading my stories <3 I love you all!

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The slow clip clop of hooves hitting the dirt can be heard across the forest, making the animals turn and scurry out of the way of the stallions as they wind their way through the underbrush. The riders, adorned with their red capes and golden emblems, all smile and laugh amongst one another as they follow the worn trail. Servants walk alongside their masters, keeping to themselves as they gaze at the vast expanse of plant and wild life around them while occasionally bending down to pick up a dropped bag or two. The king, with his son and ward following just a few paces behind him, rides in the centre of the group. He has his chin held up high as he rides through the forest, giving off a presence of leadership and authority that none could defy. The servants scuttle around him nervously, constantly asking whether he wished to rest or have a drink, but he always brushes them off, much too eager to reach their destination to want to stop.

Arthur, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to turn around and return home where he could sleep in a proper bed, however after seeing the way his father had all but leaped from his throne when he received the letter of invitation from the King of Cambria he had no choice but to follow along with the man's wishes.

The prince lets out a groan as Gwaine, being the loudmouth he is, begins another one of his tavern tales with enthusiasm that never seems to disappear. He catches Morgana smirking at him from her horse beside him, clearly amused at his torture while she chats merrily away with Gwen who rides on the back of Lancelot's horse.

"What's with the sour face?" Morgana whispers from her horse with a smile, kicking at the prince's boot.

Arthur frowns at her, kicking her back from his own horse though she manages to veer out of the way with a mocking smirk. "Nothing, it's just..." he glances towards the knight beside him who's far too engrossed in his storytelling to notice he's lost the prince's attention, "...Gwaine."

Morgana giggles, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we're almost there. Just survive for a few more hours."

"And don't worry," Elyan calls out, coming up from behind them, "we'll be sure to give you a proper burial if he does bore you to death." He sends the prince a wink before turning to chat with his sister and future brother-in-law.

Morgana laughs at the remark before turning back to Arthur, "Aside from Gwaine, you should at least act a bit more excited," she says with a smile, "It's a new place and we've never visited Cambria before. Maybe they'll have some strong knights for you to fight."

Arthur scoffs, "They won't have any I can't beat. Besides, why are you excited? I thought you would be dreading this visit?"

Morgana shifts a little in her seat, sending a glare towards Uther that looked as though she were ready to kill him right then and there. "I am. I'm far from excited to watch this... Tournament," she says the last word in a venomous tone.

Arthur looks over to Uther who rides a short distance ahead of them both. He's whistling to himself, a wide smile on his face as he gazes at the scenery around him. The prince shivers a little at the sight. Even he has rarely seen Uther so... happy? Excited? No... it's neither happiness nor excitement he sees on his father's face. It's bloodlust. Pure, unadulterated, bloodlust.

Arthur slows his horse, pulling further back behind his father while gesturing for Morgana to follow. She raises an eyebrow at him before dropping back as well, steering her horse in close before whispering, "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you want to go?" Arthur asks in a hushed voice, "Considering your..." he gestures flamboyantly with his hands, "...abilities."

Morgana stiffens, quickly sending a glance to Uther who hasn't heard a word before turning back to Arthur. "And make myself look even more suspicious? Uther has almost caught me using... it... twice now. He's already disappointed that I show such sympathy to... them. I can't risk this. If I don't go he'll have my head."

Arthur watches her with concern, eyes moving from Morgana to Uther than back again before sighing. "You're right, but," he points a finger in her direction, voice stern, "you need to keep a low profile. One wrong move and you'll find yourself thrown in the Tournament."

Morgana's eyes grow dark at the words. She grits her teeth, clearly suppressing the urge to argue back, but upon seeing the worry lining Arthur's face she finds herself nodding reluctantly. "I'll try."

The prince sends her a smile, patting her on the shoulder before turning his attention back towards Gwaine only to find that he somehow is still talking.

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The sun is about to set by the time the procession arrives at the front gates of Cambria. Numerous guards line the walls and surround the gates, leaving the prince with an uneasy feeling as the guards, adorned in capes the colour of the forest with the emblem of a silver snake, open the doors for the group to enter.

Arthur's eyes are immediately drawn towards the large arena that sits in the centre of town. The high walls can be seen even from the edge of the city, towering up above the other houses and business in the nearby vicinity. The walls are made of a white stone, forming a ring around what the prince presumes to be the arena. Engravings of knights in armour fighting dragons or monsters adorn the sides of the walls. There are carvings of armies charging one another, knights battling with swords and corpses piling high. The closer Arthur approaches the arena the more nervous he feels. There's a strange atmosphere emitting from the structure, one that makes him sink down in his seat and want to hide in a corner. He can almost see the blood that must have spilled within its walls and the thought forces him to look away.

Arthur lets out a breath of relief when they finally move past the arena, feeling the weight lift from his chest as he turns to gaze back at the structure. He doesn't even want to begin imagining what could have happened within its walls, and yet, here he is, visiting the kingdom for the sole purpose of watching the famed Tournament which is hosted in that very arena.

When the group finally enter the courtyard Arthur is finally able to see the castle in all its glory, though if he were honest the castle is a far cry from the grandeur of the arena. It's smaller than the citadel in Camelot and looks to be older as well. The stones are a dark grey with various chips and scars on the rock, making the prince worry a little about the buildings structural integrity.

"Welcome, welcome!" A voice suddenly calls out from the front doors of the castle, interrupting Arthur's thoughts. An old man with greying hair and a kindly face walk out, dressed in fine robes befitting a king. A crown sits atop the man's head, showing his authority. "Ah! My dear friend! How long has it been?" The man asks while smiling at Uther with an hand outstretched.

Uther's face breaks open in a grin as he walks over to the old man, reaching out as he shakes the other king's hand. "Alden! It's been more than ten years now. I believe we last met at the battle against those rogue sorcerers."

Alden smiles, a memory seeming to surface in his mind. "Yes, yes. How could I forget? That battle changed the course of history!" The king claps Uther on the back, letting out a laugh before turning to look at Arthur who stands just a short distance behind his father. "Is this your boy? My, my he has grown! I remember when he was only a child."

Arthur smiles kindly at the man, shaking the King's offered hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard much about you from my father," he says while glancing over to Morgana who doesn't bother hiding the utter disgust from her expression. Arthur moves to block her from view, hoping that she'll have composed herself before the king notices her presence.

Alden smiles, patting Arthur on the shoulder, "A well mannered boy. You'll make a fine king, just like your father. I can see you already! Charging into battle against dragons! Ah, though your father's already killed all the dragons..." the pair of kings let out a boisterous laugh, as though reminiscing about some old joke. Arthur just remains standing with his hands behind his back, hoping that neither of of the royals can see through the fake smile he has plastered to his face.

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It's not until late into the night that Arthur manages to leave the castle. The Kings had chatted almost non-stop throughout the welcoming banquet, both laughing and drinking to their hearts content as they shared stories of their recent conquests, stories that almost always involved a dead sorcerer. Morgana had excused herself within the first hour, clearly disgusted at their talk, and had left Arthur alone with nothing but the constant boasting of King Alden about his famous Tournament, none of which he bothered to listen to. The prince had picked at his food and chatted briefly with one of the nobles sitting nearby when Gwaine, god bless the man, had come over to invite him out for a drink with the rest of the knights. Of course, the prince jumped at the chance to leave and quickly excused himself from the table.

Now, here he is following a few of the Camelot knights through the winding streets of the town. With their backs facing the arena, Arthur is finally able to properly take in the sights around him. The streets are dim at this time of night, with nothing lighting the paths but a few braziers that are kept alight by the roadside. From what he can see the town doesn't look very different from the lower town in Camelot. A few stalls are just starting to close shop and the owners send them all a wave as they walk past. Candle lights illuminate the windows of many of the houses while silhouettes of the occupants wander to and fro inside, readying for the night. Arthur smiles a little as he walks down the street, listening to the chatter of his knights just a short distance ahead of him and watching the moon rise in the distance. He can almost make himself believe that he's back home in Camelot, back home in the familiar roads of the lower town, but at the same time he can't. There's always an uncomfortable air around the town, a feeling of dread that he can't seem to shake and the thought terrifies him more than he'd care to admit.

"Here it is boys!" Gwaine calls out from the front of the group as he gestures to the doors of a tavern which Arthur isn't even sure how he managed to find. Then again, Gwaine seemed to have a sixth sense for alcohol so he didn't bother asking him how he had found the place. He just smiled and walked in after his knights, wanting nothing more than to get away from that dreaded feeling that's been haunting him since he first stepped foot into this kingdom.

It doesn't take long for Arthur to find himself sitting alone at their table while all but one of his knights have returned to the castle. The others had stayed only for a few drinks, most of them tired from their trip to Cambria, and so have already excused themselves before disappearing into the night. Gwaine though, refused to leave, and knowing the man's track record Arthur wasn't willing to leave him alone. So, he continues to sit at their table, drinking slowly from a tankard while Gwaine is at the other end, drinking and playing as comfortably with the locals as he would back home with the people in Camelot. The prince though couldn't quite find the will to enjoy himself. Despite the numerous drinks, he still can't shake the nervousness he feels. He finds himself glancing around the tavern, alert and aware of the movements around him as though he expects a man to leap out at him with a knife. No matter how much he keeps telling himself that there's nothing wrong he knows there is, knows there's something deeply wrong with this place.

"I saw that," Gwaine's threatening voice rises from above the dull chatter in the tavern and suddenly all heads turn towards the knight who looks noticeably drunk, "I saw what you did. You cheated! Admit it!"

Arthur turns his head, watching as the man Gwaine had just been playing, a rather muscular gentleman with a beard and a black mark poking out from underneath his collar, returns the accusation with a sneer. "I don't cheat. I play fair and square."

Gwaine, looking offended, takes a step closer to the bearded man. "Look mate, I saw ya cheat with my own two eyes. Admit it now and I'll let it slide."

The man rolls his eyes, laughing with his friends at Gwaine's obviously smaller stature. "How'd I know you aren't the one cheatin'?" The man asks, clearly wanting to pick a fight and before Gwaine can retort Arthur decides it's his responsibility to step in.

"Please, calm down," Arthur says, coming in between Gwaine and the other man, "I don't want to cause any trouble so let's end it here, alright?" The prince looks between Gwaine and the other man, both of whom have a scowl on their faces.

"Fine," Gwaine says with a pointed glare, apparently sober enough to see that he shouldn't be picking fights in a foreign kingdom, "for you, princess. No one else."

Arthur sends the man an apologetic smile before turning to go, but not before he hears a quiet chuckle behind him, "Heh, have a nice night princess," the man says with a laugh.

Arthur immediately stops in his tracks, spinning on his heel till he's once again face to face with the bearded man. He doesn't mind the nickname when it's coming from Gwaine, simply because that's how the knight is. He loves to tease, but never means any of what he says. Though he'd never say it to Gwaine's face, Arthur knows the knight has a strong sense of morality and would never insult anyone in such a way. This man, however, has just insulted his pride and he will not allow a peasant from some foreign kingdom treat the Pendragon name as such. "If you have something to say, then say it to my face," Arthur demands, eyes flaring with unspoken anger.

The man just laughs again, "Sure, princess."

Perhaps it's the alcohol, or perhaps it's just his anger, but Arthur finds himself pulling a hand back, ready to throw a punch when a new voice enters the fray and a cool liquid is splashed down onto his head, sending him stumbling backwards with wide eyes at what someone had just done. "Hey," the voice slurs out, clearly coming from someone far more drunk than anyone else here, "come on..." there's a pause as the boy seems to try and remember how to speak, "...that's enough. You've had your fun."

Arthur can feel his cheeks turning red with rage as he eyes the drunk in front of him. The boy had messy black hair and blue eyes that looked both bored and entertained at the same time. He's dressed casually in a simple grey tunic with brown trousers and a belt around his waist where a small dagger is strapped. The strangest thing about him though is the black marking that curves around his neck and down onto his collar, a tattoo of a snake. The boy smiles at him while an empty mug of mead, the one he had dumped atop the prince's head, is held aloft in his hand. He tries to take a swig from the tankard then seems to remember that he had just drained its contents on Arthur's head and decides to throw the cup aside. "Princess," the drunk called again and Arthur can hear Gwaine behind him start to advance forward, ready to defend his prince's honour.

"Look," Gwaine says, jabbing a finger at the tattooed man's chest. "I don't care where I am anymore. Insult the prince one more time and I'll send you straight to your grave."

The boy doesn't seemed fazed at all by the threat, instead he just grabs another tankard from one of the men behind him and takes another swig before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "I'd like to see you try."

Gwaine charges, hand outstretched and this time Arthur isn't prepared to stop him. This boy would get what he deserved. However, instead of a hit the prince finds Gwaine flown sideways into a table, snapping it in half from the force. If they hadn't gained the entire taverns attention at this point they definitely have now.

The crowd behind the boy just cheers, laughing boisterously as he gives a little bow, tankard still in hand. He turns back towards Arthur, mocking the prince with a wiggle of his brows before taking another sip of his mead. Arthur, now more than just angered, has his hands curled into fists at his side. He pulls the boy towards him by the collar, wondering what he could legally do to him that wouldn't send him to be burnt at the stake. "You hurt my men and I'll be sure that you can't drink another tankard again," Arthur swats the drink out of the boy's hand, however before it can even drop to the floor the boy's eyes flash gold and the drink stops mid-fall, floating in the air.

Arthur stares at the cup, eyes wide as he pieces together what the boy must be. A sorcerer or perhaps a warlock like Morgana. His first instinct is to pull out his sword and run the boy through, however, aside from the fact that he doesn't have his sword with him, Arthur thinks of Morgana. She, and Gaius, have taught him so much about magic, about sorcerers, about what they do. They've helped to expand his view of the world and yet here he is thinking of killing a sorcerer again. Just like his father. Arthur looks down, feeling disappointed in himself, ashamed at the thoughts that had just run through his head. His grip loosens, and within an instant Arthur finds himself flipped onto a table, the warlock's elbow pressed against his neck as he leans over him. The tankard is once again back in his hand. He wiggles the cup in front of the prince, as though showing him that he had failed to spill his drink before draining the mug of it's contents. "I don't have any problems with you personally," the boy says, words even more slurred than before, "but see, I don't like my friends getting picked on."

Arthur tugs at the boys arm, only to find that, despite his small stature, he's strong. Much stronger than the prince would have thought. "Picking on your friends?" Arthur demanded, looking annoyed now, "Your friend insulted my honour!"

That seems to get the boy's attention. He turns around, elbow still pressed against Arthur's throat but not as roughly as before. "Kent!" he calls, making the bearded man from before turn to face him, smile still on his face, "did you insult this man's honour?"

The bearded man, Kent, laughs. "He had honour?" The crowd laughs at the joke and Arthur's about to wring the man's neck except he doesn't need to. Someone else beats him to it.

This time it's the bearded man who's flung across the room. The crowd stops laughing almost immediately. Kent gets to his feet, one hand holding onto the side of his head as he stares at the boy who has now moved off of Arthur and is sitting on the edge of the table, legs dangling off the side. "Don't bully people in my tavern," the boys says, now looking disappointed at his friends behaviour, "I thought that was a rule I've made quite clear."

Kent scrambles to his feet, a nervous and guilty smile on his face, then dashes out the door. Most of the crowd, seeing the sour mood that the tavern owner appears to be in, all turn to leave. Arthur moves over towards Gwaine, kneeling by the man's side only to find him out cold. The prince sighs, knowing that without his other knights with him he won't be able to carry Gwaine all the way back to the palace.

The sorcerer walks up behind him, tapping Gwaine with his foot before turning to look at Arthur. "Sorry about your friend," he says, "I thought he was the one causing trouble."

Arthur shakes his head, turning towards the black haired boy who still has that sour look on his face. "No, it's alright. This was partially my fault as well," Arthur says, trying to lift Gwaine from the remains of the table.

The tavern owner waves a hand and the table is suddenly fixed, the pieces appearing to have glued themselves back together. Arthur turns his eyes towards the boy, his guard subconsciously rising when he remembers that he's a warlock. And a warlock means that Arthur needs to be careful. Morgana may be a nice witch, but that doesn't mean they all are. "A sorcerer," Arthur says, looking the boy up and down, "that's a surprising thing to find here. Especially considering what's only a short distance away from your tavern."

The boy glances over to where the arena lies, eyes darkening for a moment before he turns back to Arthur. "Despite what you may think, there are many sorcerer's living in Cambria."

Arthur shrugs Gwaine onto his shoulder, straining a little under the man's weight. He should be glad that it wasn't Percival. He would never be able to carry Percival. The boy looks to Arthur, seeing the way he's struggling then moves to help him with Gwaine. "You're welcome to stay here for the night. I have some spare rooms upstairs," the boy says, already moving Gwaine towards the small staircase behind the bar counter.

"Are you sure?" Arthur asks, raising a brow.

"It's the least I could do for hurting your friend."

Arthur looks to the boy gratefully. "I won't be able to stay the night since my father would wonder where I am, but I would appreciate it if you could house him for the night."

The boy nods with a grin as they start to pull Gwaine up the stairs, legs dragging up the steps. "That's fine with me. Ah," the boy lets out a chuckle, "with all the commotion I forgot to mention. The name's Merlin."

"Merlin..." Arthur whispers the name under his breath. It's a strange name, one that most wouldn't hear even once in a lifetime. Yet, it's one that he finds rather suites the peculiar warlock. A smile crosses the prince's face. A smile that he hasn't been able to bring out since they reached the kingdom. "It's a pleasure to meet you Merlin. I'm Arthur Pendragon."

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A/N - I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter! I just wanted to mention that this story will probably have slow updates just because I don't have as much free time as I used to. 

Thank you for being patient. :)