Hello everyone! This is my first attempt at a proper, multi-chapter fic! Please R&R and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I totally own Merlin! (In my dreams...)

"You pig! You, arrogant, arrogant, pig!"

The small, slender thirteen-year-old stormed through the forest, her curly, raven hair flowing out behind her, and her emerald green eyes filled with angry tears.

"Morgana! Wait, I didn't mean it!"

She was closely pursued by a slightly younger blonde boy with blue eyes, who soon caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

Angrily Morgana spun around and wrenched her arm from his grip.

"Arthur Pendragon, if you ever insult my father like that ever again you will be sorry!" she spat angrily, before giving him a shove.

Even though the young prince was strong and well-muscled for his age, he was not expecting the sudden push, and so toppled over backwards.

Morgana took her chance and ran through the forest, taking a sharp left or right every so often so Arthur would not be able to track her as easily as if he just had to follow a straight path.

She knew Arthur and the knights that had accompanied them on their short hunting trip (Arthur had insisted he was old enough to go hunting, and Uther had told him to drag Morgana along, telling her that it would be good to get some colour into her pale cheeks) would find her eventually, but she wanted some time along to seethe.

She picked up a stick and used it to whack leaves and twigs aside to make a clear path.

How dare – WHACK! – that insolent prince – WHACK! – insult her father!

Morgana knew in her heart Arthur hadn't meant to insult her, it was only a joke, but Morgana felt so angry she didn't care.

Continuing in this fashion for a while, muttering angrily under her breath, the young girl soon found that she was lost. Well that suited her fine.

She wandered through the woods for a while until she saw a small clearing, with several fallen logs in, perfect for sitting on.

Morgana sat down, smoothing out her long skirts – Why Uther had not let her wear something practical she did not know – and begun to sing softly.

She was idly playing with her hair when there was a thump, followed by an "OOF!" nearby.

Morgana immediately sprung to her feet and drew a dagger from her belt (A gift for her twelfth birthday, given to her by Sir Leon. Uther had disapproved – of course). Never one to run away from danger, she proceeded quietly to the source of the noise.

She stepped round the side of a large oak tree, dagger at the ready, and came face to face with a scowling boy, sprawled on the ground, small logs scattered around his lanky legs.

"Who are you?" asked Morgana, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm Merlin," he said, scrambling to his feet and taking in her well-dressed appearance. It was clear she was not from around here. "Who are you?"

"I'm Morgana," she replied. Her green eyes scanned him, taking in everything from his tousled raven black hair, sparkling, sapphire blue eyes and lopsided grin to his simple clothes; a red neckerchief and blue, long-sleeved top, with a pair of dark brown trousers and brown boots.

Merlin looked back at her, seeing her wavy, black hair cascading down her back, her emerald eyes, her pale skin and fine dress. And the ornately carved dagger in her hand.

"Erm… what are you doing here?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the dagger clutched in her hand.

"I, err…" Morgana followed his gaze and realised she was still brandishing her dagger. Quickly she put it back in her belt. "I was on a hunting trip, and got separated from the rest of my group,"

"You hunt with a dagger?" the boy looked at her strangely.

Morgana blushed, her pale cheeks colouring. "Oh, no, it's just, I heard a sound and… well, you know…"

"That sound was me tripping over my own feet while trying to collect firewood," Merlin gave a grin, "Everyone in the village says I'm a hazard to myself,"

Morgana could not explain why, when Merlin had grinned, her heart had begun to hammer, or why when she looked into those blue eyes she found it hard to tear herself away again.

Merlin bent down and began collecting the logs around him. "I have to get back with these," – He gestured to the logs – "My village is just at the edge of the forest. Would you like to come with me, or do you have to get back to your hunting?"

Morgana made a face as she bent down to help him. "I hate hunting, I don't see how you can call it sport when one side has horses and dogs and crossbows, and the other has nothing,"

Merlin gave a short laugh. "I agree. So, why did you go hunting in the first place then?"

Just then, they both reached for the same log and their hands brushed together. Both of them immediately jumped back, causing Morgana to blush again.

Then she remembered Merlin had asked her a question. "Uther made me come," she said, a look of distaste flashing across her features.

"Uther?" the young boy's eyes grew wide. "As in, King Uther of Camelot?"

Morgana nodded. "I'm his ward,"

"What are you doing here then? You're on the edge of Cenred's Kingdom!"

Morgana had not realised she'd gone so far. She would be dead when she got back to Camelot if Arthur told Uther she'd gone into Cenred's land. She'd just have to hope the young prince would keep his royal mouth shut.

"Could- could you stay here a bit, with me? I'd kind of like some company before I go back. The truth is, I ran away from my group. I know they'll find me soon though."

"Oh, alright!" Merlin was surprised that Morgana wanted him, just a poor village boy, to keep her company, but was more than happy to oblige.

They sat on the nearby fallen logs, Merlin dropping the firewood at his feet.

"So, what's it like, life in your village?" Morgana asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"Well, rather dull really, nothing much happens. It's quite small, just a few dozen houses, a field of cows or two… but it's home, I suppose."

Morgana listened as he spoke of Ealdor, where he lived with just his mother. Her heart ached as she thought of her previous life, living with her mother and father.

"I used to live in a village, once," she said quietly.

"Really?" said Merlin, surprised.

The young girl nodded. "Before I lived in Camelot…"

She felt her eyes fill with tears, and turned away, embarrassed.

Merlin cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure of what to do. In the end he put his arm around her, and she unconsciously leaned into him, a single tear rolling down one of her pale cheeks.

"My mother died when I was only six, so it was just me and my father, Gorlois. But then he died whilst fighting a battle for Uther, and so I was sent to Camelot, to live with the man whose fault it was that I became an orphan," she explained bitterly.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Merlin whispered.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"You're lucky Merlin. At least you have your mother,"

"I know. But at least you got to know your father,"

They did not speak for a while, Morgana still nestled into Merlin's shoulder, and his head resting on hers.

Then they heard voices a distance away. It sounded like the Camelot hunting group. Morgana started, banging her head into Merlin's chin.

"Ouch!" they both said in unison, before beginning to laugh.

"I like you Merlin," Morgana whispered, staring into his sparkling, blue eyes.

"I… I like you a lot too," Merlin replied.

And, hearts hammering, they both leant in, and before they knew it they were kissing.

"MORGANA!"

Morgana broke off as she heard the unmistakeable voice of Prince Arthur, not too far away.

"I have to go," she said sadly, just as the young prince stumbled into the clearing.

"Morgana, we've been looking for you–"

He broke off as he realised she was with someone.

"Who are you?" he asked, staring at Merlin.

"I'm Merlin," the young boy stepped forward, holding out his hand to the prince.

He stared at it, before giving Merlin a look of distaste and turning back towards Morgana.

"We have to go," he said, "Sir Leon said that my father will worry if we're gone any longer,"

Ignoring him, Morgana turned to Merlin.

"Goodbye," she said, "I hope we meet again."

"I hope so too, Morgana," he replied.

She gave him a small, sweet smile, before turning away and beginning to head back, Arthur following behind.

"Until the next time, Morgana…" Merlin thought, remembering her soft lips against his own, before picking up his firewood and heading back to Ealdor.

Sooo... what do you guys think? Please review!