Title: More Than It Seems

Author: Minch

Summary: Merlin, Arthur, and the knights are captured. However, their abductor is not interested in the King of Camelot or even Emrys. He only wants the stranger imprisoned with them. What is that stranger's secret, and what does their abductor so desperately want from him?

Rating: T, because I am not going to be nice to these guys in this fic.

Spoilers: Occurs in between Series Four and Series Five.

Disclaimer: I hold absolutely no claim to ownership of Merlin. It belongs to BBC and Shine, Ltd. I'm just someone with a boundless imagination who happens to love the show.

Author's note: I'm borrowing jargon from Tamora Pierce's books. (Don't judge; they're good books.) I'll put a list of the spells I used at the beginning of the last chapter.

More than it seems, these dreams inside blur reality's line

If I could believe the dreams aside, I am capable of more than it seems

Kutless

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Chapter One: Negotiations

"We'll make camp here," the blond man said as he and his company dismounted. The group was comprised of six men; the oldest looked to be in his early thirties, the youngest in his mid-twenties. All but the youngest wore chainmail and carried well looked-after swords. As they took off their horses' saddles for the night, the fair-haired man ordered, "Gwaine and Percival will take the first watch, Merlin and I will take the second, and Leon and Elyan the third."

"No chance to negotiate?" Gwaine asked, wearing his typical carefree and roguish smile.

"Don't start," Arthur told him in a voice that promised deep trouble if the knight continued ribbing. Gwaine took the hint. He pulled some fishing line and hooks from a saddle bag and went off to the nearby stream. "Merlin, go collect firewood. Make sure it's dry."

Merlin picked up an axe without a word. Ordinarily he would have taken a parting shot at Arthur, but he was not in the mood. He jogged back down the road they had taken through the thick trees, remembering a fallen tree that looked extremely dry. Dry wood meant less smoke, which meant that there was less chance of someone detecting them because of the smoke. He let his mind wander a little as he went.

Lot –formerly one of the nobles in Essetir and now its king– had invited Arthur to his castle of Huntaburgh to establish a treaty between his kingdom and Camelot. It was no secret that he disliked the Pendragons, to say the least. Arthur, on the other hand, had no quarrel with him. Despite the one-sided hostility, Lot pressed the issue, saying that he wanted a definite agreement between them. The treaty made between Cenred and Uther was thrown out when Cenred attacked the city of Camelot, and it had not been replaced.

Merlin was not sure what to think of this. It was possible that Lot had given up his ill will toward Camelot. Perhaps he hoped that an accord with Camelot would help stabilise his rule. Even after two years, some of the other nobles in Essetir continued to challenge his claim to the throne. In any case, there was one thing that Lot and Arthur agreed on: banning sorcery. Cenred was allied with Morgause, he remembered ruefully. Lot did not persecute users of magic with the same hatred as Uther, but he was no friend of the Old Religion.

He arrived at the fallen tree, near where Gwaine fished for supper. He waved to Merlin, humming the tune of a rude song. Merlin returned the wave before kneeling to examine the tree. He noted that not only was it dry, it was hawthorn. Dry hawthorn burned for a long time, and gave off almost no smoke at all. Once he had an armful of stout branches, he turned back to the camp. Suddenly he stopped and listened. There was no sound in the forest, aside from the nearby stream and Gwaine. No birds were chirping, no small creatures scurrying about. Usually silence in the woods meant bandits were about. But, he reminded himself, there's five burly knights tromping around. Naturally all the animals would be laying low.

He started again when something flickered in the corner of his eye. When he looked, all was still. But he could not shake the feeling that they were being watched. He shivered involuntarily. It was bad enough that the trees in this forest were so thick that the road they were following was little more than a footpath. He did not need the extra suspicion that something else was out there, watching them. Dusk was coming on fast, but perhaps…

He knew no spell for what he wanted to do, but that never stopped him before. He imagined being able to see in the dark, being able to see with the sharp eyes of a cat. Merlin's blue eyes glowed with golden fire and he could instantly see through the twilight as if it were midday.

He looked all around, across the stream, up in the trees. What he could see was nothing out of the ordinary. Gwaine did not notice, suddenly occupied with the massive fish that had bitten his line. He listened as well, using his magic to extend his hearing range. Arthur and the other three knights were quiet, rubbing the horses down and setting up camp.

It must have been a leaf falling, he decided. He made sure to douse his magical vision and hearing before turning back to the campsite with the firewood in tow. The sunlight was fading in earnest now.

"Found some dry hawthorn," he said as he came back into the camp. No one answered, preoccupied by thoughts of Lot's invitation. He hunkered down and dug a deep fire pit, one that would easily hide the flames. The feeling of being watched was not so strong here, among his friends.

A splash and a slew of swearing came from the river. Gwaine appeared a few moments later, dripping wet. A fat fish flopped around on the end of his line. "I saved supper," he explained when they looked at him.

"By jumping in after him?" Merlin quipped as he struck flint on steel and started the fire. That provoked a laugh from the knights, breaking some of the tension.

The men of Camelot got to work getting ready for the night. Within minutes Merlin skinned and gutted the fish, putting the meat in a pot of water with a mixture of add-ins. He set it next to the fire to cook, which he kept burning low. No need to attract unwanted attention, even with all of their precautions.

"So what's the plan?" he asked no one in particular.

"We go, we make a treaty, we leave; no much more to it," Leon replied.

"Why now?" Elyan wondered aloud. "It's been over two years since you were crowned King, sire."

"Alinor, Annis, Rodor –they all settled their treaties within six months." Gwaine ticked off the monarchs of neighbouring kingdoms. "Perhaps we slipped his mind."

Merlin glanced at the king, who had not said anything. "You worried?"

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin," Arthur said, but only half-heartedly.

"Yeah, don't worry. You've got us to protect you," Gwaine added.

The evening passed in near-silence. The knights talked, but quietly. The fish was good and filling, with enough left that even Merlin got a bowl to eat. When they were done, he stood to go rinse out the pot. "Leave it till morning, Merlin," Arthur said.

"Do you know how hard it is to clean this pot after it sits dirty for hours?" the manservant asked him.

"No." The king said it like he was not sure if Merlin was in his right mind.

"Well, it is."

"Then you'll scrub it in the morning." Arthur refused to back down on this.

"I'll go with h–" Gwaine started to say when all of them heard something heavy drop to the ground behind a nearby tree. Arthur stood up quickly, his sword in hand. Merlin, however, beat him to it. Almost silently, he stole around the tree. No one stood concealed behind it, but a dark shape sat on the ground near the trunk. He picked it up and moved back into the firelight to examine the mysterious object.

A cloth bag rested in his hands. Crafted out of leather, an internal wooden frame held the bag in a square shape. Inside lay a small pile of feathers –goose, grouse, pheasant, goldfinch, even a few hawk feathers. Each was carefully laid so that none would crush the others. He found a fist-sized bottle in an inside pocket, a bottle he discovered to be filled with a pungent glue when he uncorked it.

"What the hell is this?" Merlin wondered aloud. If anyone possessed an answer, they had no time to give it. An arrow sprouted out of the ground next him.

"I'll thank yeh to put my bag back, pack up, and find somewhere else t' sleep." The voice that spoke was young and heavily accented with a peasant's burr.

"Who are you?" Arthur called as the knights drew their swords and leapt into a circle, backs to one another, peering out into the night.

"Don' matter," the stranger said gruffly. Somehow, his voice seemed to come from the trees above them. Merlin mentally kicked himself. He should have looked more closely. With the trees being so close, the stranger could have climbed up any tree and snuck over to right above where their camp was.

"I wouldn't advise an attack," Leon called. "We're armed."

"And I've another arrow nocked and pointed at yer gullet." the stranger answered.

"Will you fire?" Elyan challenged the unseen speaker.

"I'd just as soon not. 'T would be a waste of a good fletchin'." The stranger muttered something under his breath and the fire went out. Not slowly, leaving a bed of embers and coals, but as if someone had blown it out like a candle.

Merlin's nerves were already jangling, but the introduction of a sorcerer –quite possibly an enemy sorcerer– made him that much more alert.

"Sorcerer," Arthur called. "I command that you surrender, in the name of the law of Camelot."

"I'll not, thanks. I don' care if yeh're the King of Camelot hisself."

"And if I were to tell you that I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot…" Arthur was playing a dangerous gamble, revealing his identity to a concealed sorcerer.

"Forgive me for not trustin' yer word," the sorcerer said sarcastically.

"You insult the king?!" Gwaine yelled in fury. He spun around in the darkness, looking for the offender.

"Mayhap yeh are the king, mayhap not. I done worse things than tread on the toes of nobility to keep my skin in one piece."

Merlin was working out a plan of how to get out of this mess when a much deeper darkness, like a heavy curtain, fell on him and he knew no more.

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