A/N: So as promised, here is the one-shot story that I started working on a few weeks ago. It was originally supposed to be included as a short flashback in my other story "To Be Your Servant", but it ended up getting too long for that, and so I decided to post it separately. (It is not necessary to have read "To Be Your Servant" in order for this story to make sense. This fic works just fine as a stand-alone.)

Enjoy!

Merlin frowned as he descended the steps of the castle into the courtyard and was met with the sight of the horses that stood there waiting. The stable hands were hurrying about, working quickly to saddle and ready them for the king's spontaneous hunting trip that had only just been announced that morning.

Merlin had known it was coming, of course. Arthur had been growing more and more restless with the amount of paperwork and number of council meetings that he had been burdened with as of late. And so it had come as absolutely no surprise whatsoever to Merlin when, upon appearing in Arthur's chambers that morning, the king had announced that the two of them would be going on a hunting trip. Merlin had just been annoyed that he had been given such short notice, and next to no time at all to get everything ready, a fact that he had been determined to make sure Arthur was made well aware of.

"You could have told me ahead of time, you know. Like yesterday. Then I wouldn't have had to scramble to get everything together," Merlin complained, as he stuffed some spare clothes into a bag.

Arthur just smirked, his mood seeming to improve by the minute as he listened to all of his manservant's grumbling. "Exactly, Merlin," he replied simply.

Merlin threw the king a nasty glare at that. Arthur knew how much he hated hunting. But that was likely the very reason that the king insisted on dragging him along in the first place. Nothing seemed to make Arthur happier than causing Merlin misery.

But despite all of this, the frown that Merlin wore on his face at the moment had nothing to do with the hunting trip he was being forced to accompany Arthur on.

"That's not my horse," Merlin said, dropping the heavy sack of supplies he was carrying from his shoulder and looking at the unfamiliar creature that stood next to the king's own proud and mighty mount.

The stable hand just shrugged as he patted the dark brown neck of the horse that Merlin was currently staring at in confusion. The warlock was fairly certain that this horse was a new one. He didn't recognize the creature at all. And he had mucked out the stables enough times over the years to be able to recognize all of the horses by the very sounds they made, let alone by sight.

"The king ordered that the new horse be saddled along with his own," the stable hand finally spoke.

"Is something wrong with Hilliard?" Merlin inquired, suddenly nervous. He knew that the small, gray horse that he had been riding for years now was getting on in age. In fact, the last time Merlin had ridden her, on a patrol he had accompanied the knights on only a fortnight ago, she had been even slower than usual. And then when a small group of bandits had suddenly descended on their party...

Merlin and his mount had almost not made it away.

Merlin shook his head at the memory. Arthur had been absolutely livid with him when the patrol had returned and relayed the story to him.

"You could have been killed, Merlin! Why didn't you move faster?" the king yelled.

"My horse is old, Sire!" Merlin shouted back. "If I would have pushed her any harder, I would have killed her!"

Of course, Merlin was unable to mention that he had also been using his magic to help deflect the many arrows that the bandits had sent their way. So what if one or two of them had come dangerously close to finding their target? That was hardly the point. He had managed to escape, hadn't he? He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

"You were more worried about your horse?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Well of course I was worried about her!"

Arthur spent a few moments then just trying to control his frustration. "Idiot!" he exclaimed at last, as he turned to walk away.

"I had no idea you cared so much!" Merlin retorted angrily.

Arthur turned around slowly then and glared at his manservant. There was silence between them for one, long, tense moment.

And then Arthur took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and proceeded to give his manservant the longest list of chores that he had ever given the young man before.

Merlin had refused to speak to Arthur for several days after that.

"Your old horse is fine," the stable hand was saying, pulling Merlin away from his thoughts. "She's just been retired."

"Retired?"

"Yes, Merlin. Retired," came a voice from behind the young man. "This is your new horse."

Merlin looked over his shoulder to see the king standing there, watching as final adjustments were being made to his horse's saddle.

"But – why?" Merlin asked.

"You're asking me why I'm retiring your old horse? After what happened on that patrol?"

"No. I'm asking you why you're giving me a new horse. There are plenty of other horses in the stables that I could ride-"

"I just don't want to have to listen to any more of your excuses in the future about why you were unable to keep yourself out of unnecessary danger," Arthur interrupted. "Now, I've given you a young, strong horse. And she is perfectly capable of moving at a very fast pace should the need arise."

Merlin's mouth fell open. "You really do care, don't you?"

Arthur scoffed. "What I care about, Merlin, is not having to train a new manservant. I've got enough to worry about as it is."

"What do you mean, "train a new manservant"? George is the most efficient servant Camelot has ever known, according to yourself. How much more training could he possibly need?"

"So you would condemn me to a lifetime of bootlicking and brass jokes?" Arthur asked, crossing his arms.

Merlin shrugged. "After everything you've put me through? It would serve you right."

"Merlin?" Arthur said then, after a short pause.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Merlin beamed then as he moved forward to rub his hand down the neck of his new horse, knowing that he had won the argument.

"Thank you, Arthur. She's beautiful."

Arthur just rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl, Merlin. Now let's go."

But Merlin didn't move right away. Instead, he looked into the eyes of his new mount, feeling an instant connection with the animal. She seemed to be staring back at him with a strange, burning intensity. Merlin wondered if he was perhaps just imagining it.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Arthur asked impatiently a moment later, from where he sat atop his own horse. "Let's go!"

Merlin finally tore his eyes away from his horse and looked around him then for the bag he had dropped, only to discover that one of the stable hands had already retrieved it and secured it to his horse's saddle.

"Right," he finally replied, moving to mount the beautiful creature.

Arthur just rolled his eyes again. His manservant could be so strange sometimes.

Merlin finally pulled himself up into the saddle then, and no sooner was he seated than the king urged his own horse forward, and Merlin was left to follow close behind.

"We'll set up camp here," Arthur announced sometime in the early evening when they came upon a small clearing that seemed perfect for spending the night.

Merlin sighed when it came time to dismount his horse. He had really been enjoying the quiet, peaceful ride of the last hour or so. The connection he felt to his new horse seemed to have grown and solidified throughout the day, and Merlin found himself wondering what was so different about this horse. There was something there that he just couldn't quite put his finger on. It was almost as though the creature could sense his very thoughts. She knew exactly where Merlin wanted her to go and obeyed the commands before Merlin even had the chance to give them. He had never felt anything like it before. Not with Hilliard. And certainly not with any other animal.

"Arthur, where exactly did this horse come from?" Merlin asked, pulling the three rabbits that the king had killed earlier that afternoon down from the saddle.

"Hmmm?" Arthur asked, turning to where his manservant was once again staring intently at his new mount.

"Where did she come from?" Merlin repeated.

"Honestly, Merlin. Anyone would think you'd never seen a horse before, the way you keep staring at her like that. If I'd have known this was how you were going to react-"

"Do you know where she came from?" Merlin asked impatiently.

"No, I don't," Arthur answered. "I entrusted Gwaine with the task of purchasing a suitable horse."

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked in disbelief.

Arthur shrugged. "I told him why I wanted to get a new horse, and he was only too eager to take up the job."

Merlin shook his head as he rubbed his horse's neck. He would have to ask Gwaine about it later, then. Hopefully the knight would know something about his horse's history.

"Well are you going to get camp set up or not?" Arthur exclaimed after another minute passed. "I'm absolutely starving."

"You know, if you would just help me get camp set up, we could eat a lot faster," Merlin grumbled as he set himself to work.

Arthur scoffed. "You really are the worst servant ever, Merlin," he said, before plopping down on the ground, his back resting against a log.

"And yet you still keep me around," Merlin shot back, as he continued to unload the saddles.

"Yes, well, you're just lucky that I find you so entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I never tire of seeing that clumsiness of yours cause you to fall flat on your face."

Merlin could feel his face heating up. "I don't fall that much," he protested.

Arthur just laughed then at the indignant expression on Merlin's face. "Of course you don't, Merlin. Now hurry up. I want to eat tonight."

"You always want to eat," Merlin snapped. "In fact, that belt of yours just might need another hole-"

"One more word," Arthur interrupted in a deadly voice, "and you'll spend the rest of your youth in the stocks."

Merlin immediately clamped his mouth shut at the threat, only allowing the smallest of smirks to appear on his face. He then went back to work, moving to set up camp as quickly as possible before Arthur decided to throw him in the stocks anyway.

The flames of the little campfire crackled merrily in the center of the clearing. Merlin and Arthur sat on opposite sides of the fire, enjoying the warmth and comfort as their stomachs worked to digest the delicious rabbit stew Merlin had prepared for dinner.

It was dark now, the fire being the only source of light in the tiny clearing. And Merlin seemed to be sinking into a trance as he stared into those flames. The world was calm and quiet.

But then suddenly, Merlin felt a small nudge at his arm. Looking around, however, he discovered that there was nobody there. Arthur was still on the other side of the campfire, staring intently into the flames himself, and didn't seem to notice that anything might be amiss.

Merlin's eyes roved around the entire clearing then. Until they came to rest on his horse.

The light from the fire was making the horse's eyes glow, and the creature was staring at him again with that same strange intensity as before. Next to her, Arthur's horse was grazing on a clump of grass, showing no interest whatsoever in Merlin or his companion.

Merlin didn't know what to make of it.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked suddenly, causing Merlin to jump slightly.

"She's watching me," Merlin said in answer, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Arthur followed Merlin's gaze over to the horse then. "Did you forget to feed her?" he asked mockingly.

Merlin just shook his head.

"What's her name?" he asked suddenly, tearing his gaze away from the horse for a moment to stare questioningly at the king.

"I don't believe she has one yet," Arthur replied.

"Can I name her?" Merlin then asked hopefully. "She is my horse, after all."

Arthur shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Good. I've got the perfect name for her."

"Oh, yeah? And what would that be?" Arthur asked doubtfully.

Merlin smiled as he turned his gaze back onto his horse.

"Red. Her name is Red."

Arthur just stared dumbfounded at Merlin for a moment, his eyebrows shooting up. "Red? You want to call her Red?" he finally managed to splutter out.

"Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with that name, Sire?"

"Well, for one, the horse is brown." Arthur answered.

"So?"

"So why in the world would you want to call her Red?"

Merlin just smiled wider as he continued to watch the creature that was staring right back at him.

"Because I can see the fire in her eyes," he finally answered.

Arthur glanced over at the horse then, his eyebrows still raised. He scoffed and shook his head at what he saw.

"You mean the campfire?" he inquired, in a tone of voice that clearly suggested that he thought Merlin was out of his mind.

Merlin just shook his head. "No, not that."

"Well then, what?" Arthur asked, still confused.

"When I look in her eyes, I can see a fierceness there. A fierce loyalty. A fierce desire to protect. It's like a fire. Strong and dangerous. Yet warm and comforting."

Arthur studied Merlin then for a few long moments, in which time Merlin did his best not to appear too uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze.

Finally, the king broke eye contact and just shook his head again.

"I don't think I'll ever understand you," Arthur finally broke the silence. He made to stand then, tossing a small stick he had been holding into the flames as he did so. "Get some sleep."

Merlin sighed. He then took one more look at his horse, at Red, he reminded himself, before stretching out on his bedroll so that he was gazing up at the sky.

He supposed he really shouldn't be surprised that Arthur didn't really care much for the name he had come up with. It was a bit of an odd name, after all. But Merlin liked it. And he thought it suited the horse well. She didn't seem to object to it anyway.

Merlin turned his head then, to see Arthur sitting up on his bedroll, glaring at a patch of grass somewhere to his right. Brooding.

Merlin imagined it had something to do with all the extra work the king had been doing lately. Camelot seemed to have no shortage of problems these days. And as a result, Arthur had practically been running himself into the ground trying to solve them.

"What are you thinking about?" Merlin asked finally, after watching Arthur for a minute or so.

Arthur frowned as he turned towards his manservant. For a moment, Merlin was sure the king was just going to snap at him to go to sleep. But a few seconds later, he gave an answer.

"The harvest hasn't been very good this year," he stated.

Merlin stared at Arthur for a moment before slowly nodding his head in agreement. "Yes. But it's hardly the worst year we've ever had."

"It still puts a strain on my people. Some of them may starve this winter if I am unable to help them."

"But you will help them, Arthur."

"And if I can't do enough?"

There was a short pause before Merlin spoke again. "You know," he began. "We had some pretty harsh winters in Ealdor."

"And what did you do?" Arthur asked, genuinely interested.

Merlin shrugged. "We pulled together. We made it work."

"And no one ever starved?" Arthur asked skeptically, raising his eyebrows.

Merlin sighed, but otherwise did not answer.

Arthur closed his eyes then before turning them back on the fire.

"Of course, Camelot's people have something that we didn't have in Ealdor."

"And what is that?"

"A king who cares," Merlin answered immediately.

Arthur looked over at Merlin for a long moment then. Neither man said anything for a while, and it was completely silent in the clearing save for the crackling of the flames in the campfire.

"You always do that," Arthur finally spoke, turning his gaze away from his manservant and back to the fire once more.

"Do what?"

"Puzzle me."

Merlin let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I know. I suspect that's just another reason you keep me around, though. Maybe one day you'll figure me out."

It was Arthur's turn to laugh. "Somehow I doubt that."

Merlin smiled. "You never know."

"Go to sleep, Merlin," Arthur said exasperatedly.

Merlin continued to smile as he turned over on his bedroll. His horse was still watching him, he noticed. And so he stared back at her for awhile as he waited for sleep to claim him.

And then, shortly before he was about to lose consciousness, another thought occurred to him.

"I thought of another reason that "Red" is the perfect name for my horse," he said sleepily.

Arthur just shook his head, but decided to go along with it. "And what would that be?"

"Red is the color of Camelot," Merlin answered, before drifting off to sleep moments later.

When Merlin next became aware, he sat up quickly on his bedroll and looked around. Something had caused him to wake up.

It was very early morning, judging by the amount of light that was filtering through the trees into the clearing. There was no longer a campfire glowing and crackling nearby, and looking over, Merlin saw that Arthur was sleeping soundly on his own bedroll several feet away.

And then his eyes found Red. She was moving restlessly in the spot where she and Arthur's horse had been tied up, and when she saw that Merlin was awake, she let out a soft sound that sounded to Merlin like a warning.

He didn't hesitate. Merlin scrambled to his feet and hurried over to where Arthur lay, completely oblivious to the world.

"Arthur, wake up," he said urgently, shaking the king's shoulder.

Quicker than Merlin would have believed possible, Arthur bolted up and reached for his sword, pointing it directly at his manservant.

"You clotpole! It's me!" Merlin hissed.

Arthur let out a breath as he lowered his sword. "Idiot! You know better than to just startle me awake like that! I could have killed-"

But Arthur didn't finish his statement. His eyes widened at what he saw behind Merlin and in one quick movement, he pushed Merlin to the side and jumped to his feet, just as a sword came down on the spot that his manservant had occupied only a second before.

Merlin landed hard on his side. Looking up, he saw Arthur now engaged in combat with a large, muscular man who was currently smirking down at the king, his expression positively gleeful.

Merlin scrambled backwards as quickly as he could to the other side of the clearing, which would be a far more suitable spot for doing spells without being noticed. Arthur was handling the bandit well enough on his own, but Merlin wanted to be ready just in case his magic was needed.

Arthur was winning the battle, Merlin knew, as he watched the king swing his sword expertly through the air. But it was far too easy. Why would there be only one bandit?

As if in answer to his thoughts, there were suddenly three more men in the clearing. And they were all headed towards Arthur.

Merlin whispered a spell, and his eyes flashed gold. And then every bandit in the clearing suddenly found their swords slipping through their grasps and falling to the forest floor.

Arthur quickly dispatched the first man he had been fighting and then rounded on another before the bandits had even had the chance to retrieve their swords. And then a large cracking sound could be heard overhead. Looking up, the bandits' eyes widened in alarm at the enormous branch that was only moments away from snapping and falling on them. But there was no time to move out of the way.

The gold in Merlin's eyes faded away back to blue as he watched the bandits fall under the heavy weight of the branch. He then let out a small sigh of relief.

Arthur appeared to be stunned as he looked down at all of the fallen bandits. Then he shook his head in amazement. "I swear these bandits are getting more and more incompetent."

Merlin let out a small huff of disbelief at that. Why, if he hadn't been there –

"Merlin, behind you!" Arthur suddenly shouted in horror. Merlin whipped around, but there was nothing he could do. The bandit was right there, the sword already swinging down. He had no time to think, no time to perform a spell...

And then out of nowhere, Red was there, rearing up and kicking out at the bandit, who quickly backed off in surprise, only just managing to avoid the angry animal's hooves.

Arthur was there within seconds then, driving his sword deep into the gut of the surprised bandit. Merlin could only watch in shock, his heart pounding hard within his chest and his breathing coming hard and fast.

"Are you okay?" Arthur finally asked, when he was sure that the last bandit was dead.

Merlin nodded, staring in wonder at his horse then. "Yeah," he finally managed to say.

Arthur followed his gaze. "I thought you tied the horses up," he said then, looking at the untied rope hanging down from Merlin's horse.

"I did," Merlin answered, looking over to where Arthur's own horse stood, clearly spooked, but still tied to the tree on the other side of the clearing.

Arthur just looked at Merlin's horse in wonder then. "For once, Merlin, your incompetence seems to have paid off."

"Incompetence?" Merlin asked indignantly.

"Yes, Merlin. You obviously didn't tie the rope very tight."

Merlin knew it wasn't true. He had tied Red's rope just the same as he had always tied any horse's rope. Just the same as he had tied Arthur's horse. But he decided not to argue.

Because Merlin didn't know how to explain it. The rope wasn't broken at all. It had just been untied. It made absolutely no sense.

But Merlin was almost certain that Red had something to do with it.

"Let's pack up and get out of here," Arthur said then. "We're going back to Camelot."

"No more hunting?" Merlin asked, hardly daring to hope.

Arthur shook his head. "Not today."

They stopped at a stream near midday to allow the horses to drink. It was hot. Far hotter than it should have been for that time of year. Arthur tossed Merlin the waterskins as he slid off of his mount.

"Fill those up, will you?" he said.

Merlin just nodded and moved away, looking for a good spot to wash up and restock their water supplies.

Red watched him as he followed the stream down a little ways. Merlin looked over at her and smiled when he saw her watching him carefully. "I'm stopping right here," he assured her, stooping down and uncorking the first waterskin. "Now go on and drink."

Seemingly satisfied with Merlin's words, Red finally dipped her head down to take a long drink from the stream.

Arthur just shook his head at what he saw. It was almost as though his manservant was having an actual conversation with his horse. A horse that had saved his life earlier that day, Arthur had to remind himself.

He took a closer look at the animal then. She was not unlike any other horse he had ever seen, really. There was nothing really special about her that Arthur could see.

Except that she was special. Because there was something about her. Just like there was something about Merlin.

Maybe his manservant hadn't been completely crazy when he had talked about his horse possessing a fierce loyalty. She had certainly acted loyal today.

"Are you okay, Arthur?" Merlin asked, suddenly appearing at the king's side, causing the man to jump.

"I'm perfectly fine," Arthur replied, snatching one of the newly filled waterskins from Merlin's hand. "Now let's go."

Merlin was happy when they finally made it back to Camelot. He followed Arthur into the courtyard, where a couple stable hands were already rushing forward to take care of their mounts.

"Merlin, mate!" called out a voice.

Turning in his saddle, Merlin caught sight of Gwaine walking towards them, a huge grin on his face.

"What do you think of the new horse?" he asked, as he watched Merlin and Arthur dismount. "I picked her out myself, you know."

"She's perfect, Gwaine. Where did you find her?"

"Yes, Gwaine. Where did you find her?" Arthur asked curiously.

Gwaine raised his eyebrows. "I bought her off of an old farmer." He shook his head then. "Nice man, but slightly crazy, I think."

"How so?" Merlin asked.

"He kept saying something about waiting a long time to sell the horse to someone by the name of Emrys."

Merlin's heart momentarily stopped beating. "Emrys?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Guess he changed his mind though. 'Cause he ended up selling her to me with a huge smile on his face," the knight said, shrugging.

Merlin couldn't believe it. He looked over at his horse then and she was once again staring right back at him.

Had Red been a gift from the druids?

"Make sure the horses are properly fed and watered," Arthur was saying to the stable hands, as he began turning away. But then his eyes fell on Merlin's horse, and he reached out to give her a pat on the neck.

"You behaved heroically, today, Red."

Merlin's mouth fell open.

"What?" Arthur demanded, seeing the look on Merlin's face.

"You never talk to the horses."

"So?"

"And you called her Red."

"Well that is her name, isn't it?" Arthur said defensively.

"Yes. But I think you can see it now, too."

"See what?"

"The fire in her eyes," Merlin answered simply.

Arthur scoffed as he turned to walk away, leaving Merlin to catch up.

"Well, do you?" Merlin pressed.

"No, Merlin. I don't. But you were right about one thing."

"What?" Merlin asked, confused.

"Red is the color of Camelot."

A/N: So? What did you think? I can't tell you how happy I am to finally be getting this published. It has been sitting in my notebook for far too long. Of course, now that it's done, I have to go back to studying for my Immunology test. *sighs*

Anyways, reviews are greatly appreciated! Until next time! :)