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Chapter Text

"You know Merlin when I bestowed upon you the title of Court Sorcerer I expected you to understand that you were no longer serving under me but beside me." The King chuckled as he pushed the door to his chambers closed behind him.

"Yes, Sire I know," Merlin stilled his fingers that were wrapped around the pale piece of wood, releasing a quick huff to extinguish the flame he'd used to light the candles that were placed systemically around the room.

"Merlin, you're lighting my candles."

"I'm aware Sire."

"And why use a match when you can just flick your wrist and all the hassle will be done for you?"

"Because Arthur, when you're used to doing something one way for such a long time it's nice to revisit it now and again." a small smile danced across on the dark haired boys lips

Arthur laughed out a breath and reached up to unbuckle the red cloak he'd had hung around his shoulders for the majority of the evening, not expecting a pair of long, warm fingers to push his own out of the way.

"Merlin, please I can remove my cloak without the help of my ex-manservant, you never used to be this helpful when it was in your job description."

The younger boy made a fuss of turning his head around, spinning slightly, his royal robes Arthur had gotten specially made for him on the day of his swearing-in, fluttering gently around his waist, smacking lightly again his brown trousers.

"Do you see George around to help you, Sire?" Merlin smirked, reaching up gently to pluck the golden crown that rested on top of The King's mop of blonde hair.

"I gave him the night off after we retired, and will you please stop calling me Sire, this propriety from you is alarming me slightly."

"Never used to give me the night off," Merlin mumbled as he placed the red cloak into the wardrobe and moved along to the mantle to place the crown down neatly in its place. His hand hesitated on the metal for a few seconds.

"Did something feel off to you at the feast?" he blurted out.

"Why? Another one of your funny feelings, Sorcerer?"

"My funny feelings are significantly more correct than yours Arthur." Arthur tried to joke again but as Merlin slowly wandered to the desk, placing his pale hands on the dark wood and resting against it, Arthur could see the familiar look of worry that had overtaken his friend's face. He stood from where he'd settled himself on the bed and stepped forward.

"I felt nothing to be out of order Merlin, but I trust your judgement." Merlin pulled his hands from the desk and placed them in front of him, picking at his thumb, his eyes found a particularly interesting point on the stone wall to stare at for a few seconds before he straightened his form and flattened down his deep blue robes, the golden runes sewn into the fabric along the trim sparkled in the soft orange glow of the candles.

"No, I'm probably just paranoid, or Gwaine drank too much and my magic was trying to stop him from accosting some innocent maid." Merlin laughed to himself, flashing the smile that made Arthur's cheeks flood pink.

"Is that all you need, sire?"

"Merlin-"

"Sorry, is that all you need, clot pole?"

"Merlin!" the boy shook his head, laughing to himself again as he spun and headed towards the door.

"Sleep well, Arthur."

"You too dollop-head."

"Prat," Merlin called as he shut the door behind him.

"Cabbage head," Arthur shouted back and he heard an echo of Merlin's response as his footsteps disappeared down the hall. Arthur sat back on the bed, removing his boots and shirt. He chuckled to himself once more as his mind recalled watching Gwaine haplessly flirting with the servants that moved around the feast, throwing a wink to the waterboy and smiling charmingly at the maid who brought out another bottle of wine.

"Hopeless." He whispered as he blew out the few remaining candles and buried himself beneath the covers.

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Merlin made it to the end of the hallway before he felt like his lungs were going to implode. Coughs racked his chest as he attempted to clear his throat.

"Gods," He muttered to himself as he finally caught his breath and slowly made his way down the concrete steps towards his chambers. At first, Arthur had made a scene about Merlin being upgraded to better living quarters, boasting that his new court sorcerer would have the highest possible quality of anything he could desire. Merlin politely declined that offer, stating that his chambers in Gauis' quiet corner of the castle already felt like home and leaving the old man by himself would simply ruin any chances of Merlin ever being able to sleep again.

The warlock continued to clear his throat as he traversed through the castle, dodging drunken knights and stepping over a few that hadn't been so careful with their food-to-alcohol ratio. He passed Leon a sympathetic smile as the knight stumbled out of the feasting hall, Sir Gwaine looped around his shoulder shouting curses and throwing rude gestures to whatever knight was probably being restrained inside the hall.

"Need a hand there, Sir Leon?"

"No, Merlin thank you, I thought you'd retired with Arthur?"

A heat rose to Merlin's cheeks at Leon's insinuation. "Yes, I'm just heading back to my chambers now, are you sure you don't want me to aid you back to Gwaine's quarters?"

"No, it's fine, he'll pass out in a few minutes when he realises the only person left to fight is himself." Leon hefted Gwaine's slumping body back up onto his side, shifting his arm around his neck.

"Knowing Gwaine he'd try to fight himself asw-" Merlin was cut off by another set of rough coughs escaping. He slapped his hand to his mouth and the hallway began to spin, Leon and Gwaine tilting along with the walls.

"Are you okay there Merlin?" Leon raised an eyebrow as a look of concern flashed across his face.

"I'm fine Sir Leon, I must be coming down with something." He heaved out, his breath slowly returning to him, "I should go, I'll take something for the coughs when I arrive back." Merlin smiled and waved the pair off as Leon cast another concerned glance his way before hauling Gwaine towards the Knight's rooms. He braced himself against the wall for a few moments hoping Leon had decided not to turn his head around for one last look. Merlin mumbled another "Gods," to himself as his deep breaths finally stopped the grey of the castle walls from spinning like a gambling wheel. He wiped his hands over his eyes, pulling himself away from his support and dragged himself back down into the physician's chambers.

The quiet that greeted him as he bolted the door behind him was a nice contrast to the ruckus coming from the feasting hall, after creeping silently through Gaius' work room he shut his own door, slipping the bolt into place. If Gaius or Arthur wanted to wake him up early tomorrow they could bloody well knock beforehand. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the splintered wood. The castle was usually chilly at this time of night but the cold that was surrounding him even inside his room was one he usually only felt in the late winters. He raised his head and pulled his hand up to push his hair away from his eyes only for it to come back damp, sweat covering his palm.

Something was definitely wrong. The walls slowly started spinning once again, his bed and the wooden desk that sat so peacefully to the left-hand side all jumbled into one dizzying spiral that left the young warlock falling to his knees, the crack against the stone was barely audible over the sound of blood in his ears. He swore. Deep down he'd known that something was wrong at the feast he just wouldn't have guessed it to be with him. His magic was aching under his skin, pulling at his collapsing body to do something, to heal itself, to fight back. He hacked up more coughs and past his swirling vision he made out the spatter of red droplets on the floor. His fingers scraped along the stone in one last attempt to clear his airways but something in his already fragile body gave out and he fell to his side. A warm liquid dribbled down from his mouth, dripping rhythmically into the stone and as his vision blurred to black the echo of a laugh pushed past the roaring in his ears and embedded itself into Merlin's brain.

Chapter Text

A persistent knock broke Arthur out of his slumber, the banging bounced off the walls of his chambers funnelling its way into Arthur’s head.

“Sire, your council meeting.” A familiar voice called from outside.

“Shit-“ Arthur dragged his hands down his face wiping the sleep from his puffy eyes. Merlin should have woken him by now.

‘The idiot’s probably hungover.’ He thought to himself as he reluctantly pushed himself up.

“Two moments Leon,” his voice muffled as he dropped his white tunic over his shoulders and slipped his boots over his clean trousers.

He scrambled as the knocking persevered on the door despite his yells to ensure Leon that he hadn’t in fact smothered himself in his sleep.

“Gods, one moment.” Arthur huffed out as he reached across the dining table, snatching an apple from the fruit bowl then launching himself at the door before another set of knocks made him all too aware of the headache sitting behind his eyes.

“Whose damned idea was it to organise a council meeting after a feast and if it was Merlin’s fire him.”

“It was yours, Sire.”

Arthur stopped himself.

An embarrassed “Oh.” escaped his lips before he swung the door shut behind him, biting down on the piece of fruit he’d grabbed.

“Is Merlin not with you?” Leon enquired as the two started quickly towards the throne room.

“Is that bumbling idiot late as well?”

“Yes Sire, I assumed he’d woken you up this morning as the two of you usually arrive at morning meetings together.”

“Go and fetch him will you Leon? Feel free to bang a few pots and pans in his ears as you drag him out of bed.”

Leon let out a chuckle.

“Yes Sire.” As the two reached the doors to the same hall they’d feasted in the night before Leon carried on straight as the King made his entrance into the meeting.

“My apologies everyone, let’s start as quickly as we can, Merlin will be joining us shortly and everyone has full permission to make as much noise as possible as he enters-“

“Please Princess, are you trying to kill me.”

Gwaine had his head resting face down on the polished wood before them, hair falling around his head like brown leaves on a tree. Percival shot the King a proud smile as if dragging Gwaine to one of the most tedious meetings on Earth whilst he felt like his head was being trampled by all of Camelots Cavalry was the peak of hilarity. Arthur managed a laugh at the thought.

“Honestly, Gwaine I’m surprised you made it.” A cough from one of the elder members of the council forced him out of the humiliation he was about to inflict on the drunkard knight.

“Right, yes, again, my apologies. Let’s begin with the grain reports and get the drab agendas out of the way first.”

Only a few excruciating minutes went by before Arthur’s brain became fixated, completely unwillingly, on the loose thread sticking out of Elyan’s tunic. It hung just off the seam between the shoulder and torso and normally Arthur really wouldn’t have noticed something so insignificant but there was only so much he could listen to about grain being planted, grown, and harvested before his mind decided to kill any and all respectable thoughts. If Merlin had woken up on time he would’ve sat next to arthur and whispered across a joke about where the Grain Master could shove his supply-

“My Lord?”

“Mh?” Arthur hummed out, old men and their rude habits of pulling you from your very interesting, very important thought process.

However, before the Grains Master could repeat his question the large doors to the throne room burst open.

“Leon, what in the Gods names are you-“

“Arthur-“ Leon struggled to catch his breath. “Arthur, it’s Merlin.”

~~~

Arthur would’ve been surprised by how fast a hungover Gwaine could move if he hadn’t nearly flung himself over the table to get to Leon’s side. He’d nearly taken Percival out on his way to the door.

“Leon.” A demand not a question as the two fell into step, the rest of the Knights bringing up the rear. The abandoned council meeting not even an afterthought.

“I went to do as you instructed. Gaius is currently in the lower town so his chambers were empty and I tried to get into Merlin’s room but he’d bolted the door shut from the inside. I tried knocking. I tried yelling.” Leon sounded exasperated as they sprinted down the flight of stairs leading towards the Physicians chambers. “He didn’t answer so I started to get worried and I kicked it in.” They rounded off into Gaius' working room, Merlin’s door sat off kilter on its hinges. Arthur’s legs carried him into Merlin’s quarters. “It looks like someone ransacked the place and Sire,” Leon pointed to a spot on the floor. A puddle of deep crimson sat in a crevice of one of the stones. “He’s been injured.”

Arthur’s eyes traced over every aspect of the Warlocks room. His breathing quickened. Official papers from Merlin’s desk were scattered all over the floor, many were coated in the remnants of muddy footprints, some were crumpled and torn. The bookshelf Merlin prided himself on, that was full of rare or rather precarious spell books had been trashed,  some dumped on the floor with pages torn from the spines and others just missing entirely. The bed was undisturbed. The window locked. The fire cold. Blood on the floor.

It was usual for Merlin to disappear from time to time. The sorcerer was always off to fight some magical beast by himself and more often than not came back with some horribly painful injuries that most would have nightmares about. It wasn’t often that Merlin would bolt the door from the inside or leave puddles of blood on the stone or destroy his own prized bookshelf. Arthur remembered the time he’d once growled at him for stroking the spine of the pretty yellow and golden spell book that was normally nestled on the top shelf. Now it was gone and the shelf had fallen down into the lower of books.

Gwaine appeared next to him.

“On your orders, Princess.”

“I want search parties. Every inch of Camelot must be wiped clean of any evidence Merlin was there after the feast starting in the Castle itself then moving outwards into the upper town. I want patrols in every corner of the woods. Guard postings go from two men to four until further notice. Every single time somewhere is cleared I want to know about it even if it’s the pig stables in the farthest corner of the lower town. Every guard who was in rotation outside these chambers last night needs to be identified and sent to the throne room immediately.”

A chorus of “Yes Sire,”s erupted behind him, Elyan’s leather boots squeaked slightly as he turned on his heel and headed past the slanted door. Percival was quick to follow.

“Leon, I trust you can organise this among the Knights?” Arthur’s eyes were still fixated on the mess laid out before him.

“Of Course, Sire.” Leon nodded his head firmly, pressing his lips into a thin line he stepped hurriedly out of the room.

Beside him, Arthur could see Gwaine’s hard stare aimed towards the small puddle of red that was slowly seeping away into the stone.

“Do you think it’s his blood?” Gwaine asked the question Arthur knew all too well the answer of.

The moisture in his throat suddenly vanished. He spat out between gritted teeth.

“I’m sure of it.

Chapter Text

The shackles around his wrists were the only indicator that Merlin was awake. The cold of the metal was seeping into his bones like ice, the skin underneath already rubbing away. His head still spun though not nearly as drastically as before.

He’s been chained to the ceiling, arms stretched from a pulley system made of cold iron. His ankles were chained to the floor in a way that Merlin was forced to his knees, his thighs burning from the strain of his upper body hovering above. He could already feel his magic aching under his skin, seeking to escape its metal confines.

What Merlin guessed was blood was crusty around his mouth and he was sure he could still taste the copper in his throat which was becoming more and more like sandpaper by the second.

“The mighty Emrys awaken.” a voice called. Merlin hadn’t heard anyone enter and he couldn’t work out whether it came from inside or outside the cell. Either way it felt like someone jamming daggers into his ears.

“What a pleasure to meet you, young one.”

The voice approached and Merlin could make out the sound of footsteps across the damp stone floor.

An icy hand wrapped itself around Merlin’s chin, forcing his head to look upwards at his captor. The figure blurred through his bleary eyes.

“I’ve heard all about you, Traitor.”

The hand roughly shoved his chin away and the snarl on the man’s face became obvious behind his tone. He took a step back and another set of footsteps made themselves known in the echoing room.

The jingling of a smaller chain came from the direction of the two men.

“Do you know what this is, Emrys?” Merlin kept his head hanging on his chest.

“I strongly suggest you look up Warlock, you might want to see this beautiful contraption before you grow to detest it.”

Merlin remained still.

“I said look!” The man’s voice grew impatiently loud and another pair of hands yanked Merlin forward by his robes causing the iron shackles on his ankles to dig into his pale skin.

“I suggest you do what you’re told.” A scratchy voice growled and something wet landed on Merlin’s cheek as he pulled his eyes open and flashed the man a hard glare. From the little Merlin could see he guessed the man was taller than him, he had recently shaved his hair, only stubble remained on his head and from the end of his left eyebrow to his cheek ran a faded pink scar.

Merlin ran his tongue along his bottom lip and spat in the man’s face.

The crack that echoed around the tiny stone room was not one Merlin would soon forget.

The punch landed directly on Merlin’s left cheek and something warm began to trickle down towards his chin.

The silver ring the man was wearing glinted in the orange light that was casted by the lone torch on the far wall. Merlin’s head swam again, the two men twisting slowly as the sides of his vision darkened.

Merlin grunted through the pain.

“Piss off.”

As the tall man reeled his large arm back to throw another punch a wrinkled hand landed on his bicep.

“Now now, Tobias at least let me get my words out before you have your fun. Can’t kill him before we get what we want.”

In his hand the first man, who was significantly older and wore a long red robe that was similar to Gaius’, held a small silver chain in his hand, it looked exactly like an ordinary necklace except for the round pendant hanging on the end. It was encrusted with what looked like gems, maybe emeralds or diamonds. The dark light and his aching cheek didn’t offer much distinction in colour of the small rocks.

“This is a pendant, Emrys. I entrust you to know what that is or do I have to explain the concept of a necklace to you?” He paused waiting for a response. “This pendant was designed to be placed around the neck of someone with magic and if left there long enough it could absorb the magic of any sorcerer and encapsulate it in these gorgeous rubies here. Then, when passed onto someone else, someone with lesser or no magic, they could harness whatever is within the pendant for themselves.” A cruel smile appeared on the man’s face.

“Do you see what I’m getting at here, Emrys?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“I see you’re confused.” He wasn’t confused. Many other people had tried to do the exact same thing once Merlin had been announced as Camelot's new Court Sorcerer. Trying to steal Merlin’s power and use it as their own believing that a man who served under someone such as Uther Pendragon could not have the Druids or simply other magic users best interests at heart.

“You see Emrys, you yourself are the most powerful Sorcerer who ever lived and yet you-“

“Served Uther Pendragon. A man who hunted and murdered Sorcerers for years. Yes, God's I know how many times do I have to go through this with you people?”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard of the amateurs and their futile attempts to rid you of a power you do not deserve. I, however, am no amateur. I can promise you that much,” The man lowered his head, smirking up through his grey eyelashes. And for the first time a small part of Merlin could have believed that maybe this man meant something else. Something worse.

“You served a man who hunted our people. Our kind for the entirety of his reign. And you believe now that you’ve worked your pathetic way into the heart of Camelot and that King of yours has repealed the magic ban you are a saviour? A hero to the druids? To those whom Uther had murdered?” The man seethed with anger, his white skin turning a bright shade of red.

“You, Emrys, sat back and enjoyed the privilege of the Castle of Camelot, you sat back and watched your brothers and sisters, your family. Die. And you did nothing to stop it. You do not deserve the power that possesses you, Emrys. You are a disgrace. And a cowardly one.”

Merlin wasn’t sure when he’d ever uttered those words or took lightly to Uther’s rampages but still a pang of guilt hit Merlin’s heart. He’s tried his best to protect himself and those he’s encountered with magic whilst Uther was still on the throne and despite his best efforts to not care what others thought about that it still hurt to be called a traitor to those he’d tried to hard to protect.

However, the Warlock still plastered his own snarl across his face, his swollen cheek puffing out under his eye.

The old man let out a sickly laugh.

“The most powerful sorcerer to ever live and he still lets himself be bound by cold iron chains. Pitiful.”

He handed off the pendant to Tobias whose eyes glinted with joy as he took it and fiddled with the chain. Pulling the clasp he walked up to Merlin,

“You may want to brace yourself, Emrys, this has been known to hurt.”

Merlin struggled to pull away as Tobias yanked the chain around his neck and as the cool metal of the pendant dropped onto the fabric of Merlin’s robes it felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach by a horse.

He gritted his teeth, trying his best to breathe slowly as the pain intensified into an agonising burn.

“Give him a few minutes to adapt, Tobias, then you may have your fun. Goodbye Emrys, it was truly wonderful to meet you.” Sarcasm dripped from the wicked man’s voice as he turned his back and left through a metal door that Merlin hadn’t noticed before.

As the pain continued, the spinning of the room now forgotten, he glanced upwards towards Tobias. His eyes were filled with a terrifying excitement as he watched Merlin huff through his discomfort and as his breathing slowly evened out the smile that stretched across Tobias’ face turned the pumping blood in Merlin’s veins glacial.

Chapter Text

Arthur had exhausted every possible resource he could think of. All of his knights were either scouring the forests surrounding Camelot or inside the castle by the Kings side working out the next steps.

“The northern borders are the only part of the forest we are yet to touch purely because we cannot stretch the Knights that far, Merlin is a valuable member of this court we will not be resting until he is found, Lord Ewan.” Leon hammered in finger into the round table, the hanging candles casting dancing shadows around the throne room.

“Sir Leon, you have to understand that we can replace one man, we cannot replace 300 Knights that have worn themselves into the ground.” The red headed man spoke back loudly.

“The Knights of Camelot may be working under King Arthur's orders but the effort they are putting in to find Merlin is of their own decision. And we will not be replacing anyone, Lord Ewan, but I am inclined to change my mind less you stop insinuating Merlin’s lack of importance.” Leon had risen to his feet now, his dark blonde curls falling around his face not helping the dishevelled look he’d been carrying with him for the past week.

Lord Ewan stood to match Leon’s stance.

“Camelot’s protection is more important than some servant turned Lord and I will not have this pathetic boy who couldn’t even protect himself take stock over the people-”

“Lord Ewan that ‘pathetic boy’ has saved Camelot and her people, that includes your righteous arse, more times than you have hair on your head so I suggest you sit down before I slice said head off, mount it on a stick and parade it around the lower town like a puppet in a springtime parade!”

Even Arthur was surprised at the words that flew from his mouth. He hadn’t intended on being so harsh but they were words that he’d wanted to speak to Lord Ewan from the moment Merlin had revealed to Arthur that he had magic. Ewan had never quite learned to forget Uther’s disciplines and when the magic ban had been repealed he was the first to speak out about how idiotic a choice that would be for the people of Camelot. More importantly how Merlin was just a peasant that shouldn't be trusted to use even the simplest of magic around the King let alone be in charge of the magic dealings within the Kingdom. He never believed that Merlin was strong enough to be the mighty Emrys but Arthur knew that Lord Ewan wasn’t brave or smart enough to pull off a feat such as this.
The red head slowly swallowed and turned his eyes back to Leon for one final glance as he accepted defeat and sat down, his pale face now flush with anger.

“Carry on, Sir Leon.” Arthur gestured.

“As I was saying, the Northern borders remain untouched as of yet because we cannot stretch out our resources that way until the southern border patrols have returned. They are due to be arriving later tonight or early tomorrow morning, they’ll be rested, fed and washed. Then they’ll be sent on their patrols up North and by that time the Eastern patrols will have returned with the Western patrols not far behind.”

Arthur rubbed his fingers under the nose, resting his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Thankyou, Sir Leon,” Arthur cleared his throat. “Does anyone have anything else to say before we conclude?”

A silence filled the air before-

“Do we even know if we’re looking for Merlin or Merlin’s body?”

Arthur didn’t know Leon’s face could portray such disgust but he believed his own face showed the same want to unsheath his dagger and throw it directly at Lord Ewan’s head.

“No? Nothing else to be said? Lord Ewan you will be excluded from the next meeting, you are dismissed.”

As the room emptied, Leon stayed seated, his eyes following the few lords, barons and higher ranking Knights out of the throne room until the door finally edged closed.

“If I’d have pulled my sword and swung it at his neck would you have me executed for the murder of a member of the Royal council?”

“I would have applauded.”

Leon hummed at that and turned to face his King. His blue eyes had faded over the last few days but there was still that glint of hope in his pupils that Arthur very rarely lost sight of with the Knight.

“We’re getting closer, Sire I can feel it.”

“Merlin felt it.” Arthur said, his voice quiet. “The night he went missing he sat in my chambers and asked me if I felt something to be off with the feast. I hadn't. He'd known something was wrong but he didn't know what. What if Lord Ewan is right? What if we didn’t think about this properly and Merlin is seriously hurt or dead and we didn’t make it in time? What if he died scared and alone thinking we would turn up just in time to save him like we always do and we were searching on the other side of the Kingdom?”

Arthur sucked in a large breath as his voice faltered and Leon’s face softened under the candle light.
“Sire-”

“Please Leon, I respect you far too much for you to keep calling me ‘Sire’ when it’s just the two of us.”

“Arthur, we will find him. He is the greatest sorcerer that ever lived. I'm sure he can look after himself, he’s dealt with situations like this before.”

“But he’s never been gone this long, and he’s never been taken from inside the castle.” That was what was truly worrying to Arthur. Whoever had done this was clever and strong enough to get past the defences around the castle and catch Merlin so off guard that they could get the upper hand and get out of Camelot without being seen. Merlin had become somewhat of a target even before he’d become the King’s sorcerer. People who disliked Arthur realised how close the pair were and with Merlin being a servant and a lanky one at that he was believed to be an easy target. However, when the announcement was made Merlin stopped seeing bandits and rebels trying to hurt him but rather other magic users who were angry that he’d had a comfortable life by the Kings side not understanding that he was still forced to hide who he truly was for fear of death. They wanted his power because ‘someone who would seldom hide and watch their brothers and sister burn by orders of a King had no right to harbour the power of the gods.’

Leon’s soft expression remained but next to the hope in his eyes Arthur saw the worry that was fighting to take over.

“Once the patrols are back we’ll regroup and search the Northern borders Arthur, If he’s not there then we will search past them, we will not stop searching until either word comes of his whereabouts or we find him ourselves. Mordred will be returning from visiting the druid in a few hours he will be able to help. I swear on my life, Sire, that I am doing all that I can to find even the tiniest trace of Merlin.”

Arthur heard the desperation in his voice but Arthur didn’t need to hear it to know Leon’s efforts were extensive.

“I know Leon and I am forever grateful,” he pushed his chair back and lifted himself to his feet. “You should rest, we will be departing with the first patrol that leaves for the north. Inform Percival in the morning that he has the choice, along with the other Knights, to come with but if not he will be filling your position, I’ll see you in the morning.” Arthur knew there was no point in even giving the Knights the choice to come with him or stay in the city to do border patrols because if Arthur was riding out then they would be riding beside him whether he wanted them to or not.

Arthur slipped out of the throne room and began the now all too quiet walk back to his own quarters; his previous thoughts on Merlin’s prior incidents stuck in the back of his mind.

Chapter Text

Merlin spat out the clot of blood that made its way over his tongue. 

“I thought you wanted my magic,” he huffed, “Why ask me questions on Camelot's defences?” 

“Because, Warlock, your magic is strong even in cold iron cuffs, it’s taking too long to transfer. Tobias here gets antsy and I’m bored of waiting so why not get some answers from you to pass the time.”

That wasn't a good enough excuse for the dark haired boy.

“I asked why, not for your pissy daily time table.” 

“Why do you think I’m doing this, Emrys? God’s, you can be quick thick sometimes can't you. With you gone King Arthur will be looking for your replacement, something he has been very quick to get to may I say, and I would like to be prepared before he finds a new toy to serve as his new sorcerer. Camelot will be mine with or without your magic. But preferably with.” The old man smirked and Tobias pulled his fist back again, planting another hard punch directly into Merlin's already cracked ribs. 

“Fuck-” He wheezed out, more blood rising up his throat. 

His head pounded and the first punch he’d received to his cheek was now the last thing he could feel. His arms were painfully numb above his head and he couldn't see his wrists but he could feel the blood from the shackles soaking into his sleeves. He was sure his knees would be bruised for years to come from the pressure placed on them and his ankles stung horrifically with every move. 

His ribs were the worst, despite his arms, neck and face being covered in all kinds of severe gashes or bruises the bones in his rib cage rattled and pinched every time he breathed, he couldn’t get a full breath in without a sharp pain shooting through his entire body. There was probably more blood on the floor around him than in his body. 

“All the Saints, you really don’t give up easily do you?”

“I’ve told you many times, you can kill me for all I care, you aren’t going to get the answers to the questions you keep repeating,” Merlin coughed out, swinging slightly by the chains above his head.

Tobias sent another punch to his head and this time his vision shook, darkening for a few seconds before the room came into focus once more. Another warm patch spread out across his eyebrow, red obscuring his line of sight. 

“But what would be the fun in killing you Emrys when I get to watch Tobias beat the shit out of your helpless body.” The old man snarled, his white teeth flashing in the light of the torch. “It’s been a week, Emrys, any hope you have of being rescued by your little Knight friends is long gone. You have very good instincts and your magic works hard to protect you. You should really listen to them more often. King Arthur isn’t coming, neither is Sir Leon or the other one, Gwaine was it? That was starting fights with one of the Lords at that feast? Red hair, average height. God's Gwaine did not like him at all, nearly ripped the man's throat out with his own teeth. Though I’m sure he’s gotten himself drunk and passed out in a tavern somewhere, he probably doesn't even remember your name let alone the fact you’re missing.” He smiled then and pulled himself away from the wall he was casually leaning against as if this was a coincidental and relaxed afternoon meeting in a courtyard. 

Merlin felt his magic clawing away at his skin, pounding against his flesh to be let free, to heal himself and throw this man against a wall closely followed by the man towering above him with his fist already pulled back. 

“Go on Tobias, he’s clearly not going to answer us yet but make it quick. We have things to do.” 

~~~

Merlin wasn’t expecting to be given a rest from the awkward position he’d been placed in but as the chains in the pulley system became weightless and the shackles around his ackles pulled slack ever so slightly his entire body collapsed onto the stone beneath him. His ribs crunched as his torso hit the floor and he groaned, turning himself to take the pressure off his burning arms. He flinched inwards, the movement unforgiving on his body as the metal barred door slammed shut as the Tobias’ chuckle faded into the shadows.

He could make out the blood stains on his sleeves that ran from his wrists to his elbows and the bottom of his trousers were also coloured crimson. 

The pricking in his arms became agonisingly unbearable as the feeling inched its way past the shackles, back into the numb limbs, agonising enough to distract him from the lack of air entering his lungs. 

Merlin lay on his right side for what felt like hours, he’d finally caught his breath and his arms were now only a dull ache but his raw wrists still stung every time he shuffled. 

The pendant that hung around his neck let off the low hum of a powerful enchantment, the only noise Merlin could hear in the silence. It was making slow work of draining his magic and Merlin didn’t want to believe it was actually working but every time his magic made its presence known under his skin it grew weaker. The cold iron bounding him made it significantly worse. He couldn’t get warm and the little food he’d been offered had made him sick just at the thought of eating. Maybe it was the cold iron or maybe it was the poison they’d used to get Merlin to this place still working its way through his system. 

Merlin coughed out painfully, more speckles of red landed on the floor in front of his bloody eyes. 

The old man had said he’d been here a week. A week and no one had found him. Merlin refused to believe that no one was looking for him. If Lord Ewan was incharge then that may have been the case but Arthur had defended Merlin against Lord Ewan in too many places to be listening to the man. They’d been through too much together. From trying to punch Arthur in the face on his second day in Camelot to revealing his magic in order to save him at the Battle Of Camlann, they knew too much about each other, they’d shared too much pain for Arthur to just abandon him. 

The room once again spun and Merlin closed his eyes in a futile attempt to rid himself of the nauseating twist of the walls. A grunt escaped his lips as he tried to place his burning head against the cool floor, the pendant falling against the stone as he twisted his body downwards. 

If he could pull himself together he could get out, use his fleeting magic to blow the chains off of his wrists and ankles, find some way to remove the enchanted pendant without it cinching around his neck and choking him, the marks from his first naive attempt still burned around the tender skin at the base of his neck. He would even leave the two men unaware of his escape and make his way back to Camelot, letting Arthur rage out whatever anguish he had later. He could hold on a little longer, could keep restraining his magic from leaking into the pendant, could hold off the effects of the cold iron for a few more days. Even if Arthur never found him, at least the last slither of life he had left was spent trying to protect him. He said it to the King many times before and he may never hear the words but Merlin was proud to serve the King until the day he died. He just didn’t think that service would be cut so short so soon in a damp, dark cell with walls that, in his daze, appeared to be moving closer by the second.  

Chapter Text

Arthur was correct in his assumption that Percival, Elyan and Gwaine would join him on the patrol. Even Mordred who’d only gotten off of his horse for thirty seconds before he was clamouring to get back on her. 

~~~

“Mordred, How was your visit with the Druids?”

“All is good, Sire,” He slipped from the horse and clasped Arthur's arm in a greeting, “the reparations are slowly setting their course and they send their thanks for the invitation to the Summer Solstice.” He faltered slightly, his eyebrows quirking inwards, “How are you, Sire, is everything alright?”

Arthur couldn’t help but press his lips into a thin line. Worry settled in Mordred's stomach. Clutching Mordred's arm tighter he failed to meet his eyes.

“Merlin was taken 8 nights ago and he hasn't returned, our attempts to find him keep falling short. Mordred, We need your help but you should rest from your journ-”

“What do you need from me?” Not a hint of hesitation in the young Knights voice. It almost made Arthur’s eyes water at the devotion but he’d simply nodded and pulled Mordred alongside him, leading him up the steps of the Castle to meet the other knights in the throne room.

~~~

They rode through the forest, they’d been riding since sunrise and as the sun settled below the tree line Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. 

The Knights followed behind him, all eyes and ears searching the woodland floor for any sign of human activity in the almost abandoned area of the forest. 

“Anything Mordred?” A frustrated sigh sounded behind him. 

“Nothing Sire, the tracking spell isn’t picking anything up here and he’s not responding to my call outs.” 

“We should stop and rest, Sire, the horses need to be watered and we should stretch our legs.” Leon rode up next to him.

“And my arse is about to fall off,” Gwaine added, the first hint of humour he’d given off since they’d sprinted from the meeting last week. 

Despite Arthur’s heart practically screaming at him to suck it up, to force the knights to carry on, that they could rest when Merlin was safe he glanced back at the Knights he’d taken with him, some the same age Arthur was when he had challenged Merlin that day outside the castle. They looked like they ached all over and a rumble from someone’s stomach rose from the silence of the forest. 

“I believe there to be a clearing just past this line of trees, we can set up camp for the night there.” Gwaine mumbled something under his breath but Arthur didn’t have the energy to fight back. 

He pushed through the last 5 minutes on his horse, his legs almost giving out as he swung himself down from the saddle, asleep from the angle of sitting on Llamrei for the entire day. He unbuckled the saddle and placed it on the floor next to a luscious oak tree, petting her muzzle gratefully as he guided her to the small stream that ran just east of their newly set up camp. 

He left Llamrei to drink and rest, turning around to see the Knights tending to their horses, everyone but the dark haired boy who’d quickly abandoned his horse by the stream, stripping away the reins and saddle then settled himself on a tree stump to the west, eyes shut, back straight. 

Mordred then huffed out another defeated sigh as he dropped his head into his hands, digging his palms into his eyes.

“Mordred you should rest, we’ve been riding all day and using the amount of magic you have, you need to recuperate.” The King stood above him resting a gentle hand on the druid's shoulder.

A shout from Percival came from behind Arthur and he turned to see the sleeveless Knight as he stood proudly next to an unlit pile of kindling and firewood. Mordred gave his wrist a small flick, his eyes shone the familiar gold that Arthur had grown used to over the last 8 months and the fire roared to life. Pervical shouted his thanks and turned back to his pack to begin preparing dinner, a task Merlin always insisted on completing on their hunts or quests despite no longer having to. 

Arthur pretended not to notice how even the small ignition spell drew more colour from Mordred's already ashen face.

“Mordred, please.”

“Nothing, Sire, absolutely nothing. I don't understand, usually I get a hum of acknowledgement or I can sense his presence in my calls but now It’s like he can’t even hear my voice or he-” Mordred cut himself off, he looked like he was about to puke straight onto Arthur’s boots. 

“Mordred?” Arthur lowered himself down to his knee, levelling his eyes with the young knight. 

“He’s in cold iron… and he’s focusing on keeping himself alive so much that my voice can’t cut past the combination of the iron’s resistance and his focus against it. You know how cold iron would work with Merlin because he doesn’t just have magic, he is magic. But I should be able to feel him even if I don’t get a response. Arthur, we have to find him soon.”

“We will Mordred, I can promise you that much.” Arthur swallowed the three words he refused to add to the end of that sentence. ‘Dead or alive.’ 

As Mordred’s eyes flashed that brilliant gold with another tracking spell Arthur let his hand slip from his shoulder and he turned to meet Elyan and Percival around the fire. 

“He looks exhausted,” Elyan muttered, cutting the last of the carrots and tossing them into the pot. 

“Yeah, you try telling him to get some rest Elyan, I’m sure he’d listen to you over his own king.” 

“Still nothing?” Percival looked at him as he shuffled down the fallen tree he’d positioned next to the burning fire. 

“Not even a whisper.” Arthur’s mouth felt like cotton as the words left his lips. 

“Maybe we just need to move further out, we at least have another 2 days travel before we turn around, maybe we’re too far out because there has to be something out there Arthur. A hint and broken tree branch or a footprint. Whatever it is, we’ll find it, Sire.”

“I know, Percival.” Arthur gave the blonde a small smile as he glanced over to Gwaine who was laying in the curve of his horse's stomach, both nodding off into a peaceful nap, a silver flask nested on his red cloak. 

“He didn’t say much on the ride out, I think this may have finally rubbed him the wrong way.” Elyan noticed where his eyes had landed. He placed his knife back in the sheath on his belt as he threw the tops of the carrots over for the horses to find, then leaned his elbows on his thighs. 

“He’s not the only one.” Arthur mumbled. 

The leaves rustled gently in the spring breeze, the setting sun flooding the camp in a yellow glow, more of the younger knights came to settle around the fire as their sleeping matts slowly began to litter the forest floor. 

“Sire, do we have a plan for tomorrow?” A young knight questioned. Brynn, his name was.

“Continue riding north, staying vigilant on anything out of the ordinary, most of this area is left untouched by bandits and travellers because the bandits believe they’ve caused the travellers to use new routes to move around and the travellers believe it’s crawling with bandits so… Anyway,” Arthur stopped his rambling thoughts and met Leon’s eyes, the curly haired Knight passed him a gentle smile. 

“We’ll continue north and pray something useful makes itself known, set up camp again and repeat.” Arthur clasped his shaking hands over his lap praying the other Knight’s couldn’t see his tremors in the fading light. A strange silence fell over the camp, the only noise came from the fire currently cooking the stew Elyan and Percival started a few minutes before. 

Leon was about to offer some words of thanks to the knights who’d come on the mission but his eyes caught on something to Arthur’s right. 

“Mordred?” His voice was laced with concern. Arthur spun his head around as mumbled confusion echoed around the camp, Leon rose to his feet and Arthur followed suit. 

“Mordred.” The boy was still perched on the tree stump and his elbows rested on his knees but his eyes remained still, unseeing on the stream to the east and any signs of the blue in Mordred's eyes was drowned out by the constant state of gold that shimmered in the light of the fire. A single tear ran its path down his cheek, gathering in the crease of his mouth which hung faintly open in a silent gasp. 

Marcus, a shorter and newer knight, joined the few that had decided to etch closer. Lifting his arm to shake the Knight from his trance before Gwaine appeared behind him swatting his hand back down. 

“Don’t touch him. He might finally have something.” Despite the hope of a vision or even the smallest whisper from Merlin, the look on Mordred's frozen face almost made Arthur pray that it was something else that had caught Mordred in this state. 

Suddenly, the gold vanished from his eyes and Mordred drew in a shaky gasp as he flinched backwards and he flung his arm out. 

“Shit, Mordred, are you alright?” Arthur asked as he brought himself beside the druid letting him place his trembling hands on his arms to steady himself, Leon mimicked the King's actions, kneeling down to Mordred’s left.

“What was it, Mordred?” Arthur whispered.

Mordred’s red rimmed eyes met Arthur’s, his heart hammered in his chest as Mordred gathered the words on his tongue. Another tear fell from his eye.

“Merlin. He’s close.” he gasped out, dragging in small breaths. 

“You saw him?”

Mordred gave a miniscule nod, tears falling more freely now. Arthur felt like his heart was about to give out, but he smiled slightly at the news.

“That’s good Mordred-”

“In a dungeon due west from here.” Mordred met his eyes. “He’s dying.”

Chapter Text

“He’s not coming, Emrys, give up, young one, there’s still a chance to save yourself.” A gentle, almost friendly whisper sprouted from the back of his mind, the old man's voice infiltrating his mind, speaking the words directly into his head as it lay bruised on the damp floor. 

“You can leave, Emrys. You’re free to go if you just give in. Give me your magic and tell me what I want to know. Then you can return to your King.” 

The words reverberated between his ears, small glimpses of his King's blonde hair and forgiving smile flashing under his eyelids. 

“Merlin. All you have to do is give in.” The voice sank to a whisper as Merlin’s eyes shot open, darting around the darkness in an attempt to locate the distant voice that had been speaking to him so softly moments before. 

His blue eyes landed a shadowed figure behind the barred door. The metal creaked as the door was pushed open, the figure melted into the darkness of the cell and slowly stepped towards Merlin’s lax body. A kind hand rose to Merlin’s dark hair, sifting kind fingers through the matted strands drawing a choked whimper from the Warlock. 

“My Merlin. I’ve found you. You’re safe now, you did so well Merlin.” Arthur's voice filled his ears and tears welled in his eyes as the hand that ran through his hair tightened its grip. 

“I thought you were dead, Merlin.” Arthur's voice fell short. The hand gripped his hair roughly, yanking his fragile head off the floor. “It’s a bloody shame you’re not. I came looking for a body and yet here you are. You always did find a way to ruin things, Merlin.” 

He tugged harshly on his hair once more as Arthur removed his calloused hand, placing it now on the hilt of his sword. 

“We travelled so far to bring your body back to Camelot. Even Gwaine was muttering about how stupid a rescue mission would be, he didn’t care as long as he got to bring some semblance of a clue back to the city to prove that you were dead.” Disgust soaked Arthur’s voice as Merlin curled further in on himself. 

“Leon refused to come, he has more important duties to attend to, far more important than a pathetic excuse of a man such as you. Percival and Elyan well, they only came because I forced them to. I can't carry your body back into Camelot to be burned by myself.” 

The hand resting on the sword tightened around the hilt and drew the steel from its sheath. 

“Arthur- Please,” 

“Listen to you beg, I can't believe I gave someone so delicate and pitiful the title of Court Sorcerer. Gods, If Gaius could see you now. He’d abandon you just like your father.” 

The words from Arthur’s once beautiful mouth dug their way into his already aching heart. Merlin tried his best to block the visions out, tried too hard to cough down the blood in his throat and sleep through all the attempts that Arthur had made to break him. 

The tincture Tobias has forced down his neck had sent him to sleep at first, he’d nodded off peacefully but as the dreams came, every time Arthur found a new way to end his life, even going as far as to take him back to Camelot safe and sound just to wield his sword the moment the doors of his chambers closed, backing the warlock into the corner he would die in. At this moment Merlin had no idea if he was dreaming or If Arthur really had come to finish him off. 

“You truly are just a peasant aren’t you. A servant. A disgrace to Camelot. A Sorcerer.” That word had almost become endearing when Arthur had begun to use it after he revealed his magic but coming from the shadow towering above him now he felt the hate that coated the word and Merlin flinched away. 

He sounded just like his father.  

“Athur, you know what- what I’ve done for you, I only used it for you Arthur, please.” 

Merlin couldn’t see but he was sure a smirk graced the King’s face as his fingers stretched around the hilt once again, raising it above his head, directly over Merlin’s stammering heart. 

“I do thank you for your service Merlin, but your body and my dignity are the only things I’m walking out of this cell with. Tell my Father his son says Hello.” Arthur brought Excalibur down, the only weapon that could kill him flashed a brilliant silver as the whetted blade lodged itself into Merlins heart. 

He felt the searing hot pain as his heart shuddered and gave out. As Arthur kicked his battered leg, making sure Excalibur had done its job, as his Once and Future King dragged his body from the ground, blood trailing behind them as the cell door swung shut, as Merlin was thrown to Percival who draped him over the back of his horse, as the Knights of Camelot, his friends, his family, rode off with his departed body, discarded uncaringly on the back of the saddle.

~~~

He couldn’t hear his own breathing as he fought for oxygen. His head heavy as he attempted to pull in all the air he could against the raging of his ribs. 

“You see Emrys, I’m only showing you what will happen if you return to Camelot. Arthur will surely have you burned. He’s already told the city you’re dead, wouldn’t want to be proven wrong now would he.”

“You’re playing dirty, you are.” Merlin seethed out through bloody teeth, red spittle flying from his mouth. 

“No Emrys, I’m playing truthfully. You’ve been forgotten despite your arduous attempts to embed yourself into the hearts of Camelot’s Royal Court. You are purposeless. Camelot has a new Court Sorcerer and Arthur has taken quite kindly to him. It’s in your best interests to let go of your magic, walk far away from Albion and be done with it.” 

Merlin could feel the warmth of the tincture morph into a  burning sensation underneath his Serket sting scar. 

“Fuck off, You’re a cheap trick, nothing but a smooth liar. I know what you’re doing.” And Merlin did know what the old man was doing, it didn’t mean that Merlin wasn’t fighting against believing it. He could only witness Arthur try to vanquish him so many times before cracks started to form in his mind. 

“You can keep telling yourself that you believe that, Emrys, but we both know your time is running out, there’s only so much longer you can hold on before your sanity shatters and your magic is encapsulated within the pendant. Give up Merlin, you’re only causing yourself more torment.” 

In the dim light Merlin could see the Old man’s eyes flash golden whilst his face remained in the same annoyed expression. The liquid he’s been force fed erupted in agony under his skin. Igniting under his purple skin drawing a ragged scream from Merlin’s chest. The old man stepped closer, eyes still aglow with the colour that Merlin had signified with kindness, with the power that flowed through his veins. Now, it was scorching his stomach, his throat, roaring its way into his head, visions of Arthur and Excalibur cutting him down a hundred times engulfed his mind and as he watched Arthur laugh at his distress once more the scream that tore from his throat echoed around the cell so much so that even the old man drew back cautiously. 

“You will tell me, Emrys, exactly what I want to know.” A swirling wind picked up throughout the room and Merlin could feel his own magic bringing it to rise. A confused look travelled across the old man's face as recognition flooded his eyes. 

“How are you doing such a thing? The pendant- the chains.” He spouted out “Tobais?” He called for the taller man and almost immediately he appeared in the billowing light of the torches. 

“Put him out.” The man yelled and Tobias moved forward with his arms outstretched to grab Merlin but as he did the wind's force doubled and the taller man slid backwards against the hurricane. 

Merlin slowly pulled himself up, grunting under the weight of his injuries. 

“How-” 

The Warlock’s eyes shone brightly as the wind battered its way around the cell, the man's red robes smacking wildly against his legs, Merlin’s dark blue robes did the same and his unkept hair danced with the wind. 

Merlin managed to haul himself to his knees and his magic gushed from his body, golden tendrils mixing violently with the storm he’d created. 

Tobias was still attempting to fight against the current before the wind swept him off his feet and pushed him harshly against the stone wall, the old man plastered himself against the same wall on the other side of the door. He kept his face stern but Merlin could see the uncertainty creeping through.

“Emrys, stop this at once, we are on the same side.” 

“You call me a traitor, Carwyn? Is it? A traitor to the people of magic yet you chain me in here with the very shackles designed to tear us down, to rid us of our greatest talents.” Merlin raised his shackled hands, the wind carrying his body and the chains around his ankles pulled taut once more as he was pushed forward on his knees. 

“You claim to deserve my power but even holding the pendant that contains the magic I wield would leave you blabbering for a mother that left you a long time ago.” If Merlin hadn't been under his own spell, throwing a wind storm around the compact cell, he would have heard the crack of his ankle as it snapped under the tension of the chain, felt the bones of his ribs pierce into his lungs, the stretching of his gashes as they split further, crimson flooding from the freshly opened wounds. “You believe yourself to be a powerful sorcerer even without my magic. If that’s all you have to brag about.” Merlin stilled himself and the whirlwind seemed to silence too only for a split second. “Prove it.” 

Carwyn shot his hands forward, battling against the new rage of the storm within the dungeon. Gold eyes met each other as Carwyn’s mouth moved in a whispered spell.

Merlin didn’t even flinch as the spell hit him in the chest, the drug in his system flared to life but all Merlin could feel was the surge of his own power flowing from his fingertips. 

“You dared test me, Carwyn. I am Emrys, the Last Dragon Lord, Court Sorcerer of Camelot, protector of the Once and Future King. And I will smile when I think back to this moment.” 

Fear plagued Carwyn’s face, the wrinkles around his eyes suddenly made him look twenty years older as Merlin’s magic flooded into his body, lifting his feet off the ground, hoarse screams lost in the whistle of the wind. 

In one swift motion Merlin twitched his neck to the side and Carwyns own neck snapped, his body jerking slowly as the light in his eyes faded out. The Warlock dropped him then, letting his heavy body smack hard on the ground. 

His eyes remained molten gold as his body shivered once more, back arching as a final surge of power emitted from his hands, the pendant around his neck creaking as cracks appeared in the metal. The enchanted string around his neck frayed and his eyes returned to their normal sky blue. Painful silence filling the room, the only noise being an echo of the pendant shattering against the stone floor. 

Still on his knees, he gagged. Every ounce of pain that his body had pushed aside had returned all at once, every inch of his body screamed as he reared forward, catching himself on his hands, wincing as the broken rubies dug into his untouched palm. 

He lifted his head slowly, eyes catching on Tobias’ body. Blood trickled from the man’s nose and his eyes were glazed over as if he’d died possessed. He hadn’t remembered directing his magic to Tobias but at least the threat of the man was expelled. 

His arms gave out beneath him and he landed on his snapped ribs, blood making its steady way down his nose and out of the corner of his mouth. Ragged, quick breaths were swallowed down as his eyes began to roll back into his skull. 

Death was calling, he could feel it. He’d been close to dying many times, familiar with her sound, he could die happy knowing Arthur and the rest of Camelot would be safe from this inconsequential threat. He could die happy knowing he’d kept his promise to serve Arthur ‘till the day he died. 

As his mind slipped away he could hear his name being called in the distance, a gentle whisper carried by the wisps of his own magic, calling him to his freedom. 

But as the voice got closer he could hear a different familiarity in the tones that sifted through his mind, calling his name in a panicked yell. He could feel someone else in his head, someone who wasn’t welcome to be there. He just wanted to sleep and as his eyes fluttered shut the shout of his name echoed deeply in his head, howling for a response, begging to be acknowledged even for a second. In his weakness he let the voice through, but it was pointless as a few moments later his head fell lax against the stone floor and rough convulsions took over.  

Chapter Text

“Anything Mordred?” 

The wip of the growing wind through Arthur’s hair was nothing compared to the distressed feeling that had borrowed its unwelcome way into his stomach. 

“Nothing, Sire. We have to keep moving West, hopefully I’ll get through to him again.” 

Arthur had left the remaining soldiers at the camp. They deserved the rest and he was certain that for this next step he only wanted his most trusted Knights by his side.

The wind continued to lash around them, whistling through the trees. 

“Be careful not to stray too far from the path.” The King yelled behind him. “This storm is picking up.” 

Suddenly, a jolt from the King's left stole his attention. The young Knight gripped the reins of his horse tightly in his shivering hands as his back straightened and his knuckles turned white around the black leather. 

“Mordred, What is it?” 

“Can you not feel the magic Sire? This storm isn’t natural, It’s been conjured.” 

The King raised his eyebrow, the question forming on his face. Gwaine pulled forward next to him, his horse shaking her head at the force of the winds.

“I don’t know if it's Merlin, Sire, but I can try another tracking spell. Now that there's magic around it may be easier to pick up some kind of trail.”

“Do what you can.” Arthur nodded at him, still concerned by the pale complexion the druid held. Mordred was still learning his abilities, he was a powerful sorcerer but he was draining himself slowly in his futile attempts to find even the slightest clue on the Warlock’s whereabouts. A gold flash from his left and Arthur knew Mordred was searching through the brush once more. 

“The colour of his eyes still freaks me out a little.” Gwaine shouted over the gusts. “I mean, it’s amazing and all, but still, freaky.” 

Gwaine shivered by his right, the Camelot red cloaks were thick but this wind was ferocious and the cold cut through the fabric like it was a hot knife to butter. 

“Cold?” Arthur shouted. 

“Nothing a little bit of Whiskey can’t fix Princess,” he pulled his silver flask from his saddle bag. “Care for a swig?” 

“No, Gwaine, I would not.” he turned his head back to Mordred as his eyes continued to glow.

Then, it was as if the storm gave up. Just turned on his heel and abandoned ship. The forest fell into complete silence. It was almost deafening. 

Confusion overtook the Knights faces as one by one they waited for Mordred's eyes to flash back to their original colour and as they did the druid's face morphed half into worry and half into pure rage. Gwaine then scowled on his other side.

His hand raised up, pointing slightly to the right of the path they’d been following. 

“Through there. Hurry.” 

Arthur yanked the reins up from where he’d rested them over the front of the saddle, digging his heels gently into the horse's belly. The clobber of hooves hammered down onto the mud as the six Knights rallied through the foliage. The only wind forming now was that created by the speed of their stallions. 

“Stop!” A shout spilled from the druid. “Slow down, just past here there’s a strong hold. It's small and when I travelled through it was empty but I can’t be too sure of it.” 

Arthur moved to drop down off of Llamrei. 

“Tie your horses here, we walk the rest. Be prepared for anything.” 

His Knights followed suit, Percival kissed his stallion on the nose in farewell, giving her muzzle one last pat before he pulled his sword from its leather sheath. He always was the sweetest of his Knights. And somehow the most terrifying. 

They pushed past the last of the bushes, thorns and nettles tripping their feet. Just as Mordred had said a small concrete stronghold came into view and they fell into a clearing. It was simply grey, no windows, only one door. No patrols either? Arthur had come into this expecting some kind of fight, a punch up, a small stealth mission to rescue his Court Sorcerer at least. But there was absolutely nothing around them. Arthur stepped forward. If no one had bothered to greet him for a fight, then he wasn’t going to stand around and wait for one.

“Sire? What are you doing?” Elyan’s concerned voice came forward.

Arthurs expression turned cold and the grip he held on the hilt of his sword strengthened. 

“I’m the King of Camelot. I’m getting my fucking Warlock back.” 

~~~

The reverberation from the door shot through Arthur’s leg as he reared backwards, ready for another attempt on the wood. 

“Sire-” 

The door flung off its hinges, the smack it created as it flew down the corridor echoed out the door. He didn’t even stop to cast Leon a stern look as he unsheathed his sword and entered the strong hold.

A chilling silence and a blast of cold air met him as he ducked his head past the doorframe. 

“Are we seriously going into this without a plan? We’re meant to be getting Merlin back, not killing all of us in the process.” Elyan whispered across to Percival. 

“At this point I’m not really sure he cares.” 

“Like he said, he wants his Warlock back, I don't think we could stop him even if we put Percival in front of him. And I’m not sure I would want to try.” Gwaine muttered as he trudged into the doorway, sword already clutched beneath his leather gloves. 

“Princess?”

“Hurry up Gwaine.” The Knight’s caught up, joining their King at the beginning of the hall. Metal doors lined either side and further down the stone walkway the torches were smoking as if someone had recently put them out. 

“Every door. I want them all kicked, smashed or bent in. Every single cell searched for any signs of him.”

“Yes, Sire.” The words bounced off the walls, the open flames casting luminous orange glows around the otherwise pitch black hall. 

“He’s here Sire, I can feel him.” Mordred met Arthur’s eyes and the pair moved further towards the darkness. Gwaine's boot rebounded off the lock of the first door. Eventually the metal gave in, denting past the point of repair and it flew open. He stepped inside, bracing himself with his sword raised. 

“Shit-” He muttered out at the empty room and turned face to the archway, heading down to the untouched door next to Elyan. 

The further they travelled down the stronghold the colder the air grew. The batterting of metal grated its way into Arthur’s head and the sparks of steel on stone shone like stars in the darkness. 

His worry grew with every smack of a door, with every defeated sigh that sounded from his men as another cell appeared to be untouched by anything aside from moss and rats. He had searched for so long for this to be it. For this to be another dead end. After this they would have to search further past their own borders and by then it would be almost impossible to track Merlin down to an exact location and chances were if Merlin had been taken out of the Kingdom he was already gone. His Warlock had to be here, he didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn't.

He’d grown far too close to the dark haired boy during his reign as King. He’d been too close to him even before that. Coming up with elaborate plans that needed the quester to journey alone, except for Merlin. He’d flirted with women by telling them how he’d wanted to run away to a farm to be alone, except, of course, his lanky manservant would be joining him. He hadn’t done everything he’d wanted to do yet. Merlin was strong, the most powerful man he’d ever met, hell, when he’d first seen the power Merlin had exhibited to save his life at Camlan he’d thought the boy to be a God. In that moment when his lovely blue eyes erupted into the most gorgeous gold he’d ever seen, as his bleeding lips whispered out words that were foreign to him, he’d truly believed that Merlin was some deity sent to protect him from his own failure, to protect him in his moments of peril, to keep him safe. And in every way he had been exactly that. His Merlin. He had to tell him ‘thankyou,’ to say ‘sorry’. To tell him that he-

“Arthur!” A yell ripped him out of his own head as he spun violently to the sound of Mordred’s wavering voice. Somehow he’d gotten himself lost in his own head despite the constant beating of metal as Mordred had made his steady way down to the last door in the hold. 

“Sire.” the voice sounded again out of sight, wobbling as he called out. 

Arthur’s breath stopped in his throat as he forced his trembling legs to shift him down the corridor. He reached the metal door that had been jammed against the archway, Mordred’s body leaned worriedly over a shadow on the floor. 

“Merlin-” he stuttered out, more hurried footsteps making their way up the hall behind him as he launched himself to his knees, knocking Mordred slightly to his right. Catching himself on his hands he pulled Merlin’s shoulder over, trying to reveal the figure to him, to make sure it was Merlin, to make sure he was breathing. 

A whimper came from his mouth. 

“Please- I can’t do this anymore,”

“Merlin, it’s okay you’re safe now.” 

A broken sob fell from his lips as his face contorted in what looked like pain. 

“I broke it, you can’t get what you want from me. Just kill me and be done with it, it’ll be easier for the both of us.” His words came out slurred and haggard as his body rocked with the force of his voice despite his words being nothing more than a weak cry. A cough racked his chest and something warm landed on Arthur’s face. The same substance coated Merlin's lips. 

“Merlin, what-” he took a few seconds to register the boy's injuries. His lips were coated in blood that had travelled down from his nose which now brandished a gash that lay across the bridge. A long, angry wound was sitting just above his left eyebrow and a heavy, purple bruise sat on his cheek. His blue robes were tattered in places and the knees of his trousers were worn away to reveal grazes that were littered with gravel and dirt. Cuts were visible under the tears in his clothes and around his neck were marks that looked like a rope had dug harshly into his pale skin. His ankle should not be that way around. Anger rose in Arthur’s throat.

“Merlin, listen to me. You’re safe now, we’re here to take you home, back to Camelot. To Gauis, and Gwen and your books. Mordred found you Merlin and we need to get you back to the horses.” 

“Don’t fucking touch me unless it’s with a god damn sword.” He spat out. “You killed me the last time I saw you so for the love of the Gods please just do it again,” he coughed through his words, groaning in pain. “Maybe I’ll finally get some fucking peace.” 

“Merlin-”

“Sire, Look.” Elyan pointed to two more bodies that lay discarded unceremoniously on the stone. One, a younger man had blood coating his chin from a nosebleed, his eyes white. The other lay twisted, his neck bent at a peculiar angle.  

“What the fuck- Did he do that?” Gwaine whispered to Leon who’s eyes pinged down to Merlins wrists. 

“Sire, the chains, cold iron, If he did that whilst in those chains then he’s stronger than we knew.”

“He’s literally Emrys?” Gwaine pulled a confused face at the curly haired knight, seemingly forgetting the more pressing issue at hand. 

“Shit, Mordred can you break them.” Arthur questioned. 

“You may want to stand back, I don’t know what will happen once I remove them after wearing them for so long.” The Knights all awkwardly shuffled backwards, setting themselves against the damp wall. Elyans boot caught on the younger man's limp hand. Arthur refused to move from the Warlock's side.

“Sire-”

“Do it. Mordred.” The druid gave a defeated sigh and raised his open palms. One towards Merlin's wrists and the other towards his legs. Gold shone through the darkness and dissipated as quickly as it appeared, the chains exploded from around their prisoner. 

A painful gasp broke through the blackness and Merlin’s back arched away from the ground, the beautiful gold that Arthur had grown to love so dearly poured from his fingers, shooting across the room in a dance as it felt its way around. 

One particular tendril of magic shot outwards, twirling itself around Arthur’s body, travelling up his armour, around his arms, spirally gently around his neck and then pushing through his blonde locks, weaving its way through the strands, it felt like bliss. It felt like home. 

Gwaine held his mouth agape as a similar piece of Merlin's magic flowed around his ankles, pulling itself around his legs whilst latching around his boots before dissipating in a happy sparkle. Leon’s eyes followed his golden shimmer around his shoulders as it rippled around his arms, delivering some warmth into his shivering body. Percival chuckled as his bare arms were coated in gold and Elyan simply held the magic in his hands as it spiralled through his splayed fingers. Merlin’s magic truly was heavenly. Maybe the gods did send him a deity that day on the battlefield. Merlin was his god, and he was taking him home. 

As the gold faded away, fizzling out around the Knights, Merlin’s back slowly lowered itself down to the ground. His blue eyes fluttered open and he hissed out a wince. 

“Arthur?”

“Merlin…” The King whispered, shifting Merlin’s fragile body into his lap, lifting his ungloved hand to his dark hair, brushing it gently off of his suddenly clammy forehead.

“I’m here, Merlin.” 

“I know, my magic told me, I’m sorry.” he winced again, pain shooting up from his ribs. 

“Why are you sorry, Merlin?” 

“I didn’t think it was you, he- Carwyn,” Merlin’s head weakly nodded to the older man's body. “He gave me something, a drug, I don't know what but he activated it using a spell I’ve never heard before and it showed me you, only it wasn’t you, it was almost a puppet of you and every time you came to get me you told me you hated me. You hurt me, you killed me Arthur… You burned me.” Arthur could see the pain in Merlin's face as he whispered out his rambled words. He’d watched his greatest fear come true, watched Arthur place him on the pyre to be burned. Felt himself die a hundred times over at the hand of his King.

“Oh, Merlin. I’m so sorry, I would never hurt you, Merlin, I promise you.” 

The Warlock brought his own bruised hand up to clasp Arthur’s head, long fingers twiddling the blonde strands. 

“You came for me,” he smiled then, his blue eyes meeting Arthur’s as he smiled back. 

“I will always come for you, my love.” he pressed his forehead to Merlin’s.

“Love? I like that.” He whispered back, his voice barely audible. Arthur’s heart would've begun to race had it not dropped into his feet as Merlin’s eyes rolled back and his hand fell with a smack onto the stone. His body began to shake violently. 

“Fuck.” Arthur glanced up to beg for his Knights help, already expecting them to have lept into action as Merlin’s body jerked aggressively. He held his shaking head in his lap. 

“Leon? Gwaine? Shit, Anyone?” he yelled, his voice rebounding back at him like some kind of sick joke.  

“Sire, the horses are out the fro- What the fuck?” 

“Gwaine, help me put him on his side so he doesn’t bite his own tongue off!” 

The man sprung into the room, grasping Merlin's shaking shoulders and Arthur rolled him over. 

“We can’t travel with him like this, will it pass?” 

“I’ve seen it before during battles, usually due to excessive sudden head injuries, but these can happen as a result of anything. It should pass and as soon as the seizing stops we move.” 

The violent shakes coming from Merlin made Arthur feel sick to his stomach. He hadn’t lied, he'd seen this plenty of times before, he’d also seen what could happen as a result if the person didn’t get the correct treatment. 

“Once it’s stopped I’m sending you, Elyan and Percival back to the remaining Knights we left at camp. Leon and Mordred will accompany me back to Camelot.” 

Gwaine’s hand tightened on Merlin's twitching shoulder. 

“But Sire, that’s a day's travel-” 

“I don’t care, Gwaine, I need to get him back to Gaius.” His voice was stern and Gwaine looked like he’d wanted to argue but Merlin’s body began to still under his fingers. 

“Merlin? Can you hear me Merls?” 

The dreaded silence Arthur had heard so many times before. The quiet around him without Merlin’s witty quips was becoming unbearable. 

“Merlin?” Gwaine lightly shook his arm, trying to draw any response from the Sorcerer. 

“Shit-” he groaned, shifting slightly in his dizzied state. 

“Merlin, we need to move you to the horses, it’s going to be a painful ride but the sooner we get you back to Camelot the better.” 

“Fuck sake Arthur, let me die in peace,” he slurred out, a tear falling from his red rimmed eyes.

“As you’re actively dying I’ll let that slide.” Arthur shifted himself to Merlin’s side, sifting his arms under his knees and upper back. 

As the King rose to his feet Merlin cried out in agony as the bones in his rib cage rattled in his chest. “Arthur- my chest-”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Merlin,” Arthur whispered into his hair as he carried the Sorcerer out of the cell and down the shadowed hall towards the growing daylight and the sound of pattering rain.

Chapter Text

The journey was a series of stops and starts. 

Every so often Merlin would release a small whimper of pain, muttering gently in his dazed state but a few times he’d cried out, jolting in agony as one of his injuries twinged from Llamrei’s erratic speeds. Merlin had seized again twice in the few hours they’d been riding. 

Arthur had to haul Merlin’s frail body off of his horse, placing him non so gently on the dirt to stop him from choking whilst the Warlock’s body stiffened on the grass. Glistening red continued to coat his lips.

They’d rode through Merlin’s episodes then. Leon’s sage voice convinced Arthur that the more they stopped the worse Merlin would become, they could ride through the seizing, they couldn’t bring Merlin back from the dead. 

The spring winds cut through Arthur’s hair, the rain dripping down his face but with one hand gripping the reins and the other securing Merlin against his chest he let the droplets trace through his eyebrows, over the tip of his nose like a waterfall. Arthurs legs screamed from the peculiar angles they sat at and even though Merlin’s limp body was lighter than expected, the added weight piled on. Arthur watched as Mordred and Leon both shifted uncomfortably in their own saddles. Though he heard no complaints from the pair as they powered on.

When Merlin seized again, the shakes were worsening and the strength at which his body clamped together had only gotten more intense. Blood began to bubble at the Sorcerer's mouth as Merlin’s gaze became more and more unseeing. When Merlin’s blue eyes flickered shut he would have screamed out if not for the steady pulse dancing beneath his thumb.

“Nearly there Merlin, hang on for me,” he’d whispered, the winds carrying his words away, left behind in the green of the Northern forests.

As the sun dipped below the sky line once more the flurry of red cloaks continued through the woodland, slowing their pace but keeping onwards towards the city and once the familiar orange glow broke over the horizon what felt like a lifetime later, the sand coloured castle of Arthur’s kingdom peaked over the line of trees on the other side of the known clearing. 

Hooves hammered against the stone bridge as the three horses galloped through the arch of the Castle’s entrance. As they rounded into the busy courtyard the Pendragon red of the Knights cloaks came into view as Elyan passed his horse off to the stable hand. His head spun at the sound of the hooves. 

“Sire, we weren’t expecting you back so soon,” 

“Have you warned Gaius?” he shot back, Elyan gave a firm not.

“Gwaine did Sire, he left as soon as we got here, about 5 minutes ago.”

Percival appeared to his right as Llamrei all but collapsed before the steps. The King passed the Warlock down to his Knight and the taller man took off towards the Physicians chambers. Swinging quickly down off the leather saddle Arthur raced ahead, pushing through doors as Percival manoeuvred with Merlin behind him. The sag of Merlin’s body and the wobble of his bloodied head made Arthur’s blood run cold.

As he reached Gaius’ door he smashed his hand down on the handle, practically wrenching the thing off its hinges. Both Gwaine and Gaius jumped as the pair battered their way through the door but instead of arguing with the young King for his heavy handedness Gauis pointed to the cot by the fire as he continued to search through his bottles of tinctures and potions. 

“Gaius-”

“I know you are worried Sire, but it is best not to rush me.” 

The King bit his tongue as he stopped himself from spitting out orders at the older man. Gaius was wise, he knew what he was doing and Arthur had seen and heard enough from Merlin to know that the Physician would spend his whole life trying to save this young man if it was necessary.

A small blue bottle was secured tightly between Gaius’ fingers as he made his steady way over to the cot. As he came up beside Merlin the door swung open once more and Gwen sped into the room, a bowl of shredded cloth drowning in warm water clutched in her shaking hands. Mordred stepped in behind her. 

“How is he?” the druid huffed out, his armour clunking as he sidled up beside Percival. His question was duly ignored. Arthur couldn’t pry his hasteful eyes away from the body that had sunk into the cot. Merlin’s now longer raven hair splattered gracefully on the pillow, creating a halo above his head. His eyebrows furrowed subconsciously inwards as Gaius turned towards him, his old eyes determined. 

“Are you sure Merlin said that he was given a drug that made him see certain things?” 

Arthur’s eyes twitched up to meet him. 

“Yes, he said it gave him visions of me and the other Knights doing… horrible things to him and that it was triggered by magic- Gaius, what does this have to do with anything?” 

Gauis turned back towards Merlin, pulled his mouth open gently and poured the blue vial down his throat. 

“Because if Merlin told you the wrong information in that cell then I may have just signed his death warrant.” 

~~~

Gwaine and Percival had to heave Arthur out of the room at that. Strong arms wrapped around his chest as the two Knights restrained him, heaping him into the corridor, Mordred helped to push him back, Gwen etched her way out of the door. 

“Arthur, Arthur listen to me.” Gwen placed her hands on the side of the King's face, her hands still wet from the cloth she’d been using to clean Merlin’s wounds. “Arthur, Listen. Whatever Merlin was given, whatever he ingested to make him see those things is controlled by a very powerful magic, it caused the seizures Gwaine also told us he’s been having, it grows and takes over your mind. What Gauis just gave him, it will draw out the poisons but if Merlin was wrong-” Her voice faltered slightly, “If Merlin gave you the wrong information that tincture will only make it worse.” Arthur breathed heavily as he continued to thrash in the Knights grip, a single tear rolled down his reddening cheeks. “Merlin is smart, Arthur, he knows his magic, he knows what he’s doing.” 

Gwen’s hands warmed on his face, the water dripping down her wrists, tinting her purple sleeves darker as the water soaked in. 

“Gaius is just as worried as you are, he didn’t- he didn’t think before he spoke Arthur, he shouldn’t have said it that way but it’s better you know before- If it were to happen.”

Arthur huffed out more uneven breaths and Gwen rested her forehead on his. “He’ll be okay, My Lord. He’s in good hands.” 

Percival and Gwaine lowered the grips as Gwen left a small kiss to Arthur’s forehead and gently stroked the King's tear stained cheeks but his knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed hard on the stone. Sobs wracking his chest. Gwen met him on the floor, wrapping her gentle arms around his shoulders. Arthur could feel her own tears against his neck. 

“I know, Arthur, I know.” her soft whispers bounced off his armour. Gwaine and Percival's footsteps echoed away as they vacated the hall to give the pair some privacy. 

“It’ll be okay, Sire. He’ll be okay.” Arthur pulled his heavy arms around Gwens torso, holding her tight as his bawling continued. 

~~~

Eventually his heavy tears turned into sniffles and his breathing evened out, the warm hair hitting Gwen's neck as she gently pulled back, standing up and offering out her hand to lift the King softly off the floor. 

“We should get you changed out of this armour, My lord. Then you can see Merlin again.” 

“Thank you, Guinevere, I’ll go alone, you should return to Gaius, I have pulled you away from helping him too much already.” The King wiped another solitary tear from beside his mouth. 

“Are you sure, Sire?” Gwen’s sympathetic eyes nearly made Arthur sob once more. 

“Yes, I’m sure Gwen and please, enough with the Sire’s and My Lord’s when there’s no one else around, it’s too formal for someone I consider to be a sister to me.” Arthur said, passing a miniscule smile to the curly haired girl, he'd been letting too many people forget his titles recently, maybe Merlin really was rubbing off on him too much. 

She smiled back at him, heading towards the door and slipping past the wood, the faint rattle of the door behind her launched Arthur into another round of isolating silence.

He sighed, dragging an ungloved hand through his hair he forced his aching legs to carry him towards his chambers. The metal of his armour chafing after the ride back from the Northern borders. As he reached his room, he pushed into the room and began unbuckling the different pieces, placing them gently on the wooden dining table. Flinching away slightly when a splatter of deep red caught his eye against the shine of the iron. He’d have to get George to clean that off quickly, he didn't wish to see it again.  

He pulled off his undershirt and moved across to a small basin that was kept by the fireplace and poured out some water from the jug placed beside it. He started to scrub his hands clean, the clear water slowly morphing into a rusty brown as he picked away at the dried blood that encrusted his skin. Digging his own into his flesh, trying to pry away any hint of the colour red from his body.

Eventually he lost track of what blood was dried and what he’d drawn from his own hands, the drips of crimson into the water covered by the sounds of new sobs, escaping his throat, tears building in his eyes, blocking his vision as the colours before him blurred into one.

“Fuck!” he roared out as he batted the basin away sending water flying across the room. He let his sore hands wrap around his naked torso and let his cries consume him. Tears cascading down his face, warm blood dotted over his tanned waist as he rubbed the skin there with his raw hands. 

“I’m so sorry Merlin,” the lonely cries resounded around the room, filling Arthur's ears as they went unheard by anyone but himself. 

“I should’ve protected you.” 

Arthur sank to his knees once more, still gripping himself tightly. He thought maybe if he’d pushed Merlin a little more on the night of the feast Merlin may have listened to his magic when it told him something was wrong, maybe if he’d clasped Merlins hand in his and whispered gently for him to stay with him that night, made some lie of the castle’s chill to keep him close then Merlin would never have been taken. If he’d have stopped being a pathetic, self-conscious idiot he would have looked Merlin in the eyes as he pulled the Warlocks hand up to his mouth and gently kissed each of his pale knuckles, slowly entwined their fingers and edged Merlin forward, giving him every possible chance to pull away, rested his head against his Sorcerers and confessed. Every loving, bickering word, every thought he’d had and every moment he’d lived through that embedded the Warlock so deeply into his mind that now without him it feels utterly barren. Would’ve kissed him, ever so gently to begin with as he tested the water, deepening it only when Merlin made it abundantly clear that his heart cried for the same thing. That he needed him.

He should’ve told Merlin just how much he loved him. 

Chapter Text

That same maddening silence spilled over the Physician’s Chambers. Orange light from the fire flickered around as Arthur sat awkwardly in his seat. Sunlight from the small window catching the vials scattered around the room.

Merlin's eyelashes rested on his bloodless cheeks, his eyes remained still beneath their lids. Gwen had left the pair in the quietness around 2 hours ago and Arthur was yet to move from the spot he’d been left in. His eyes remained set on Merlin's chest as it rose and fell with each breath. He hadn’t slept in two and a half days but he knew that attempting to close his eyes for more than a blink would bring images into his mind that he didn’t wish to see. 

Scabs had begun to form over Arthur’s hands but as soon as he’d noticed them he’d picked them apart until red specks rose to the surface once again. He was just glad for something to distract his thoughts as he waited. 

He’d debated speaking to Merlin, to let him know even in his unconscious state that Arthur was by his side, that once he’d recovered he would take him on a picnic in the woods, he would court him properly and yell the desires of his aching heart from the highest point of the castle for the entire Kingdom to hear, he’d make Merlin his, if only he would open his eyes. 

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t draw the words from his throat, not sure how to form such sentences, the idea of his voice cutting through the stark quiet was enough to scatter the thought from his mind soon enough. 

He reached forward, deciding that even the lightest touch could calm his nerves. He’d wrapped warm fingers around Merlin’s icy hand and the feeling was enough to bring another tear to his eye. He brought his other hand up, leaning forward on his elbows to bring his chapped lips to the Warlocks knuckles. 

He didn’t move, didn’t press a light kiss to the split skin or mutter any words to try and reach Merlin's mind, he just sat, closed his eyes and sighed. 

Arthur then rubbed Merlin’s hand, deciding the skin was far too cold, maybe he should get the Sorcerer a blanket because the fire really wasn’t doing much to warm him. He rose to his feet, spinning around to try and find the Court Physicians stash of blankets. 

‘Maybe I should fetch one from my room.’ he thought to himself, he moved to the door, asking the guards would be easier but there was a particular one he wanted for Merlin, it was soft and made from the finest material that Uther could find when he’d commissioned it to be made. But as his hand settled on the chilly handle he’d turned back, eyes resting once again on the Warlock’s body, unmoving, pale. 

“I’ll be quick, Merlin, I promise.” Arthur pressed the handle down, more sunlight flooding in through the door. 

“No-one goes in or out before I get back. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sire.” The guards called as Arthur exited the doorway. He bowed his head in thanks as he turned to stride quickly through the castle to fetch the blanket from his chambers.

~~~

He’d received some odd looks from others plotting around the halls as he clutched the soft fabric in his arms. Some sympathetic, almost pitiful. Others looked confused, their eyes following the King until he disappeared round the next corner. 

Arthur reached the Physician's Chambers once more. His hand pressed against the wood as he pushed the door open but as he entered the room, the blanket fell from his grasp as he laid eyes on Merlin's shuddering body. 

“Shit- Gaius! Somebody fetch me Gaius now!” He yelled from the door, shuffling came from the other side as one of the guards left their post, sprinting away.

“Shit, Merlin, come on, turn over for me.” Arthur pulled Merlin's shoulders, turning his body to face him as he shook again. Gods, the sight made Arthur want to puke. Even more so when Arthur noticed a black liquid spilling from Merlin’s open mouth.

“What the-  

“Sire, what is it?” a familiar voice bounded into the room. 

“Gaius, he’s seizing again, and there’s something in his mouth.” 

The old man hurried closer, inspecting the boy closely. He turned quickly and picked up an empty vial, popping the cork, he placed it gently under Merlin's mouth, collecting some of the liquid in the glass. 

Merlin’s body stilled suddenly and as he did the Warlock heaved, more black liquid spilling from his mouth. 

“Quick, under the cot.” Gauis pointed beneath the cot and Arthur reached down to retrieve the wooden bucket he believed Gauis to be motioning to, placing it under Merlin’s head as he gagged again. 

“Gaius, what is happening to him?” 

“Is this his first episode in the past two hours?” 

“Yes, I went to fetch him a blanket from my chambers and when I came back he was seizing again.” 

“Then hopefully it’s the poison. The vial I gave him earlier was meant to expel the poison from Merlin’s body, it is good that he’s seizing now. It means it’s working.” 

“It’s good that he’s thrashing around like this?” Arthur panicked, his hand still resting on Merlin's now still shoulder. The thoughts of ‘what if this was going the other way, the bad way and we just hadn’t realised it yet.’ buried in the back of his mind. 

“Before it wasn’t. Before it was the poison alone causing the seizures. Now he is freezing up this way because the poison is travelling back through his system to be expelled out of his body. It is good, Arthur. It may happen a few more times but I promise you this is good. In a few hours, if we’re lucky he should begin to stir. Send for me when he does.”

“You’re leaving? What if it happens again?”

“I fear I must, an illness has made itself known in the lower town, you’re what's best for him now Arthur. You should speak to him, it’s believed that people in this state sometimes hear the things you say, it may help him.” Gaius shut the door behind him. 

Arthur returned his gaze back to Merlin. Black liquid slowly dripped from his mouth as the Warlock's body settled back into the cot. 

The King found a cloth, a clean one opposed to the bloody rags still soaking in the water basin. He dragged it lightly across Merlin’s mouth, collecting as much as possible before tossing it in the bucket beside him. He then pulled the chair he was sitting on forward, placing himself directly next to Merlin on the cot.

~~~

Gaius was correct. Merlin seized thrice more in the next two hours, each time lasting less and less, the liquid Merlin was retching up was becoming thinner and thinner. 

The fourth time Merlin's body tensed up Arthur rushed to place his hand on the shorter boy's back, rubbing gently as Merlin coughed up the last of the poison. Gaius had been back into the room five times since he’d been called upon. Stopping every 30 minutes or so to check Merlin’s sutured wounds and his temperature, every time the small smile on his face grew slightly. 

“You’re doing so well Merlin, it’s almost over, I promise.”

Merlin steadied again, his cheeks red from the effort of ridding his bruised body of the bile. 

The blanket Arthur had ventured to get now lay tenderly over the Warlock, covering his feet and folded over just below his sternum. Arthur held Merlin’s right hand in his left, resting his other on Merlin's outstretched arm.

“There’s so many things I wish to say to you Merlin.” he started. “I should’ve pushed you more, your funny feelings rarely ever turn out to be funny.” he ran his thumb over Merlin's pale skin. “I’m sorry I let this happen to you. I should never have let you leave my chambers that night. I always feel at ease when you’re by my side, even in battle.” 

Arthur rambled on, not sure where he was taking his secluded speech. 

“Even at Camlan when you saved my life, when you let me see the magic you so believed I hated, you were the most peaceful thing I’d ever seen. The colour your eyes flash when you mutter your foreign spells under your breath is truly… well it is magical. And I need you to wake up soon, Merlin. I need to see that you’re okay. I need to apologise. I need you, you clotpole. I need you,”

Arthur let the warm tears that had been building in his eyes fall, splatters landing on Merlin’s pale skin as they did. Arthur puffed out uneven breaths as the quiet sobs rose in his throat. He’d once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears. But Merlin himself, his Merlin, was worth everything. 

He dropped his head in his lap, bringing the hand that wasn’t still clutching Merlin’s to his head, digging his palm into his eye as the tears continued to tumble down into his lap. 

“That’s my word.” 

Arthur’s head flew up from its place, the hand in his grasp tightened weakly.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur-”

“M er lin, you’re awake.” Arthur all but whispered.

The Warlock coughed out a feeble laugh before he conjured the words, “Astute observation, Sire.”

Merlin’s eyes remained shut for a few seconds before he pried them open, flinching lightly away from the brightness of the room, despite the sun having set an hour ago. 

“Arthur? Are you okay?” Merlin shifted, trying to pull himself into a sitting position, Arthur’s glassy eyes followed him, his mouth hung agape. “Arthur?”

“Merlin-” Arthur sighed out as he launched forward from his seat, flinging his arms around the sorcerer's bruised neck. “I thought I’d lost you.” 

Arthur felt Merlin’s frail hands land sloppily on his back, wrapping the white fabric of Arthur’s shirt in his fists.

“I’m okay, Arthur. I’m okay, I promise.” 

“You weren’t. Whatever that man gave you, it was killing you, Merlin, you were dying.” 

“But you saved me Arthur, you got me home.” 

Arthur tightened his hold on his Warlock, strong arms holding Merlin’s body up as he felt his torso grow heavier in his grasp.

“Merlin?” Arthur pulled back slightly as he caught a glimpse of Merlin’s face, his eyes were slowly rolling back in his head.

“Merlin!” Arthur shook his body but Merlin’s eyes rebalanced themselves, though they still looked dazed to Arthur’s concerned mind. 

“I sat up too quickly.” Merlin laughed to himself, wincing as his ribs twinged once again. 

“Don’t scare me like that Merlin, it’s not funny.” 

“It’s a little bit funny, Sire.” 

Arthur helped to gently lower Merlin back down, pulling the blanket back up from where it had fallen in Arthur’s haste. 

 “How long was I asleep?”

“About 16 hours. You passed out many times on the horse ride back but you didn't wake up again at around three this morning. It's now around seven.”

“Shit, best sleep I’m ever going to get.” The King recoiled slightly at that, guilt once again flooding his mind. 

“Merlin-” 

“I remember what I told you, Arthur. About what Carwyns magic made me see. That isn’t your fault. It was a long ago fear of mine that he manipulated and beat me down with. I do not blame you Arthur, you should not blame yourself for the doings of a crazed idiot.” 

Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes resting on the hand he’d subconsciously picked up again, though this time Merlin’s hands had some colour restored to them, then Arthur twitched as he remembered something. 

He rose, gently letting Merlin’s hand go, missing the disappointed flash across Merlin’s face before turning to the large jug on the closest table, reaching for a goblet as he turned back towards the cot. 

“You had a few, uh, a few seizures whilst you were out. You also puked your own body weight in black shit up. Gaius said it would dehydrate you,” Arthur poured the goblet half full before sitting back down in his chair and placing the jug on the cobbles next to him. 

“Lift your head up,” Arthur placed the cup just under Merlin’s mouth, holding his chin with his free hand. Merlin pushed forward lightly, placing his lips around the metal and gulping the cold liquid down. 

“I didn’t realise how thirsty I was, thankyou,” Merlin said as Arthur pulled the cup away, his hand hesitating slightly on Merlin’s chin, fingers brushing the skin lightly before he pulled away and refilled the goblet. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, hopefully Merlin would believe it was the heat of the fire.

Arthur stilled with the goblet still clutched in his fingers. He thought about spilling his guts there and then, thought about confessing every single thought he’d had about Merlin, how crazed he’d gone when he realised that Merlin was taken, when he was hurt. He considered just pulling Merlin’s face up with his trembling hands and placing their lips together. But he wanted to wait, wanted Merlin to be able to have his escape if he needed one, not stuck in a cot, he wanted it to be perfect. So instead he sucked in a steady breath, let it out slowly and met Merlin’s gaze. 

“I missed you, dollophead.”

The Warlock smiled softly at that. 

“I missed you too, prat.”

Chapter Text

Merlin had attempted to usher Arthur out of the physicians chambers a few hours later, smacking him lightly on the arm in his weak attempt to get the King out of the door. 

“Arthur, when was the last time you slept? You’re the King, you need to rest.”

“It is none of your concern when I get my sleep, Merlin, I’m staying with you.” Arthur had planted himself firmly on the chair, crossing his arms over his torso. The gentle orange light from the fire and the candles cast a warm glow over Merlin, making the bruising around his cheek and the deep gashes across his face look softer, as if they didn’t hurt anymore. “Besides, you should change and judging by the face you pull whenever you move I’m guessing you’ll need some help.”

Merlin’s cheeks reddened at the comment. 

“What? Merlin, you helped dress me for five years straight. I'm sure I can return the favour at least once.” He reached out his tanned hand to Merlin, slowly pulling him up from the cot. 

“Can you walk?” 

“Yes, Sire, I’m sure I can manage.” Merlin chuckled out and Arthur stilled at the noise. God’s he’d missed that angelic sound. 

“Right, to my chambers.” 

“What?” Merlin’s head sprung up from where he was slipping his boots on.

“What are you complaining about now?” 

“My quarters are substantially closer Arthur?” Merlin gestured a pointed finger towards the brown door that Arthur had fixed over a week earlier. 

“Bloody hell, Merlin, stop your whining and come on.” Arthur held his hand out again, gently helping the boy to his feet. He wrapped a kind arm around Merlin's waist, placing the Warlock’s own arm around his neck. 

“I could just carry you up, Merlin, like the girl you are.” 

“Wow, Sire, I get kidnapped and beaten to a pulp and you still mock me? Just rude if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you, Merlin.” 

The dark haired boy laughed to himself again as the pair stumbled through the castles halls, Merlin wincing at every twinge of his bruised body, reassuring Arthur that it wasn’t his fault, Arthur wishing he’d swept Merlin off his feet and tucked him close to his chest before he’d even had the chance to complain.

~~~

Arthur plonked the Warlock down on the soft sheets of his bed, Merlin’s merciful hands wandering over the delicate fabric as Arthur moved towards the door once again.

Merlin couldn’t hear the whispered words he’d directed at the guards but he’d quickly slammed the planking shut and made haste towards the wardrobe. 

“I see George has been busy.” Merlin’s eyes travelled over the spotless room, every article of clothing folded, every spec of dust wiped away, the silverware polished and even the curtains around the bed were neatly flattened and strung to the side. 

“Yes, unlike you he actually makes a half decent servant.” Arthur said as he pushed past more shirts in his wardrobe, Merlin studied him from behind. 

He’d thought he was going to die in that cell, he could have gotten himself out of there if he’d really fought for it but as the visions of his friends, his King, invaded his mind something snapped and he’d soon given up. The most powerful sorcerer on the planet, defeated by the idea that the man he’d followed, risked his life for all these years would turn so quickly against him. Now he watched as the King, Arthur Pendragon, searched through his wardrobe for something comfortable for him to wear. The idea was scandalous, but to Merlin it felt safe, it felt like home. 

“Ah, here.” As Arthur turned around, red fabric clutched in his hands, a brisk knock sounded from the door. Arthur beckoned the knocker inside and as the door was flung open, two men carrying a tub of steaming water scurried in, they placed the tub on the stone floor and scuttled away again. 

“Arthur-”

“Shush, I will hear no more complaints from you Merlin, you took care of me for so many years and most of the time I didn’t know you were doing it. You have made me the King I am today. You were my protector, Merlin, please for just one night, let me take care of you.” Arthur sounded almost defeated as he pressed his lips into a thin line still holding the red sleep shirt in his hands. 

Merlin gave a timid nod, smiling at the blonde.

“Okay,” he whispered and Arthur’s lips stretched into a nervous smile. Merlin began to unbutton his deep blue over shirt. He noted that the golden runes sewn into the fabric now resembled a muddy brown. He’d have to send them to be cleaned. He placed the shirt on the bed beside him.

“Alright,” he placed the tunic on the bed, “Arms up- well, as far as you can get them.” 

And Merlin obliged, Arthur pulled the lighter blue tunic over Merlin's arched shoulders, his ribs aching at the movement, then unbinding the bandages that Gaius had applied earlier over his chest but the mix of purple that Arthur revealed as he did subdued him. 

“Arthur, it’s fine, they’re healing.” Merlin reached forward scarcely, his cold hands grazing that of Arthur which grasped Merlin’s dirty tunic. “Gaius said they’re broken, but they’ll heal properly with enough time.”

But the bruises weren’t the only thing that made Arthur’s heart pound with anger. His wrists were still chaffed raw from the shackles and down Merlin’s arms were stitched up gashes. A particularly bad one traced from his right shoulder across to the centre of his chest, melting into his pale skin like a riff. Gaius must have covered them all whilst Arthur was throwing a tantrum in his chambers. Pathetic.

“Arthur?”

“I’m sorry, Merlin.” 

“What? Why?” Merlin huffed out, confused. 

“I should’ve protected you.” the King whispered and Merlin realised that in all his time by Arthur’s side he’d never heard his voice so small. 

“Arthur, listen.” Merlin grabbed his hand again, Arthur refused to meet his eyes, keeping them trained on the marble bruising drawn across Merlin's chest. “You couldn’t have predicted this, it happens all the time but I get out, I come back to you every time, It just took a little longer this time. I should’ve listened to my magic, I should’ve said something sooner but… he was at the feast.” Arthur's eyes jumped then, his head twitching slightly as his eyes met the Warlocks. 

“What? What do you mean he was at the feast?” 

“That’s how he got me, Arthur. Something in my food, or in my drink that didn't take effect until later in the night. I don’t know how but he did it, he was powerful Arthur. But I’m here. You saved me. You brought me home.” 

Arthur looked down at Merlin on his bed and he could see that every word Merlin had spoken, he’d wholeheartedly believed. Merlin didn’t blame Arthur for this, in fact in Merlin’s eyes Arthur was, for once, the hero. He still couldn’t understand why Merlin refused to take credit for anything. He’d killed his captors, he'd fought off the rancid visions he’d been forced to witness, he’d kept himself alive through the cruel like Carwyn made up to try and break him faster.

“C’mon, the water will get cold.”

“We both know I can reheat it Arthur, please. You have to know that I do not blame you. This,” Merlin gestured to himself, his bruises and the deep, darkening cuts on his skin, “Is not your fault, Arthur Pendragon.” 

Arthur glanced down at their hands, pale fingers mixing with sunglazed skin. Merlin’s thumb rubbed gently on Arthur's hand. The hope in Merlin’s eyes glinted in the candle light. 

“Okay.” he whispered out again and Merlin smiled kindly. His tired eyes still staring up at him through long eyelashes. 

“Good,” he whispered back.

“Now seriously Merlin, stand up and get your trousers off, this water is starting to cool,” Merlin muttered under his breath as Arthur assisted him to his feet. Sliding over to the tub, Merlin stepped in. The warm water sent shivers up the rest of his cold body. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hands as the Warlock lowered himself into the tub, gently relaxing under the steaming liquid, letting the grime float from his body. 

“Arthur, you don’t need to do that.” 

“What did I say about complaining, Merlin?” Arthur argued back as he pulled a soft wash cloth from one of his draws, bringing some rather expensive soap with him too. 

“You needn’t waste your finest on me, Sire.” 

“Merlin,” Arthur hesitated, the words on his tongue felt so wrong to say out loud for some deranged reason, but as he knelt down next to the tub he let them spill over. “I would give my life for you, Warlock. I’m sure, compared to that, soap is the least of my concerns.”

Merlin’s face flashed with concerned surprise. 

“You’ve never said that to me before.” 

The words made Arthur panic. He’d forgotten how little he’d appreciated Merlin outloud, with all the treacherous thoughts swirling around his pious head he’d never once thought the Sorcerer would like to hear them, or that Arthur would like to hear them coming from his own mouth. 

“We’ll Merlin, there's a lot of things I’ve never said to you before.” Arthur dipped the soap in the water, letting it soak for a few seconds before he pulled it out, lathering his own hands and the cloth before softly pushing Merlin forward to begin scrubbing his back. “I’m not sure you’d like all of them.”

“Probably not.” Merlin sighed tenderly, his eyes flickering shut as Arthur’s hands inched around to his shoulders. 

They sat in silence, Arthur washing away the dried blood and dirt from Merlin's skin.

“Thank you. For finding me, that is.” Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, his eyes fluttering open slightly as sleep threatened to take him whilst he was still in the water.

“I will always find you Merlin, for as long as I live I will always find my way to you.”

~~~

Since that night Arthur had refused to allow Merlin back to his own chambers. Merlin ate, bathed, and slept in the King’s quarters, sharing the massive bed that Merlin always swore that even two people would never find a way to fill. 

Arthur had left him in the overbearingly quiet room by orders of Gaius as he plotted down to the courtyard to restart his training with his Knights. 

Merlin spent his time now contemplating whether or not Arthur’s anger was worth his sanity. After not much debating he decided it was. He’d managed to sneak past the guards and nimbly work his way through the castle without being spotted by the idiots who would rather tell Arthur that his Court Sorcerer was on the run before letting him explain that another hour in that room alone would surely drive him to the brink. 

He’d crept into Gaius’ room and slipped into his own, smiling at his achievement before his eyes landed on his bookcase. It looked wrong, and then he spotted why. 

Some of his books were missing. They’d been taken. On the same night that he’d been taken that bastard had stolen his spell books too. He’d hastefully picked a few up, trembling fingers wrapping around the bindings as he flicked through the pages, torn pieces of paper stuck out jeeringly from the spine. Then he’d noted Arthur’s favourite, the white and gold book from the top shelf, was gone too. 

He’d cried, sat himself down on his bed, and sobbed like the world was ending. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there and let his tears fall but he heard muffled shouting coming from outside Gauis’ workroom. Then the door swung open and Leon’s face appeared in the archway. 

“Inform the King, Merlin is safe!” He’d shouted behind him, slowly inching forward. A quirk in his eyebrow and fresh tears spilled from Merlin’s eyes. 

“Merlin? What’s the matter?” 

Merlin couldn’t form any words, just looked up at Leon like his world had been shattered, another set of heavy hands barged their way through Merlins door and Arthur’s hysterical eyes came into view. 

“Merlin!” He’d laughed out, halting himself once he saw the state of the Sorcerer. “Merlin, what's the matter? Talk to me.” Arthur had sprinted over to him, rounding the side of the bed. 

Merlin couldn’t help but take his eyes back to his bookcase, the one that now looked bare. Arthur followed his gaze. 

“Oh, Merlin.” Arthur had opened his arms and the Warlock had stood up then, flinging himself into the embrace as strong arms safety engulfed him. Pulling him tightly into the King’s chest, he smelled of the spring grass and iron. Solemn tears dampened his white shirt. 

He’d once again lost track of time and as he pulled himself backwards Arthur loosened his grip. He didn’t know when but at some point Leon had left the pair alone.

“It’s stupid, but those books were rare and that bastard died without understanding a single word inside them, he probably had them burned once he realised they were useless to him.” Merlin spat, fallen tears on his lips flying from the pink skin. 

“I’m sorry, Merlin really, I know how much they meant to you.” 

Merlin cast his eyes back to the bookcase past Arthur’s shoulder, a lump formed in his throat, he coughed it away.

Truth be told, Merlin needed to release some stress, he hadn’t cried about anything since he’d passed out in that cell once Mordred had battered his way in through the door. The tears came so easily and Merlin had no choice but to finally let them fall in fear of the rage that had been building exploding and he didn’t know what havoc his magic would wreak if he let it boil past that point. 

“Do you think tomorrow I could accompany you to the council meeting? I need something to do, something to distract me.” Arthur knew that Merlin was only asking for the sake of it, that if Arthur said ‘no’ the sorcerer would only waltz in and take his place at the table anyway, so he chuckled lightly and huffed out;

“Of course, love” He wrapped Merlin tightly in another hug before releasing the boy, letting his hand fall down Merlin’s arm and entwining their fingers. He hadn’t meant to let the name slip out but it felt right to him, felt safe with Merlin’s ears being the only one to hear it in the intimacy of the quiet room.

“Bring whatever books you desire, you can read them to me if you want?”

Merlin smiled and squeezed Arthur's hand, guiding him to the bookcase to pick a few of his remaining favourites, the colourful, intricate bindings always fascinated Merlin, their rare contents more so. He wanted to share their knowledge with his King.

~~~

That morning Merlin had woken early, the light peaking through the drawn curtains somehow hitting the only spot his eye was occupying.

“Fuck off,” he’d muttered into the pillow.

“That’s not very polite, Merlin.” A warm voice sounded from the end of the bed. Arthur stood in front of his wardrobe, switching his shirt out for the white one he’d been wearing a lot lately. 

“Didn’t know you knew how to dress yourself.” 

“Ha ha, very funny, M er lin. Your humour never fails to amaze me,” Sarcasm all but dripped from Arthur’s tone as the King smiled to himself. 

“Shut up-” 

An exaggerated gasp pulled itself from Arthur’s throat. 

“By the Goddess herself, you address your King with that mouth?”

“Gladly.He hasn’t had me executed for it yet.” Merlin mumbled as he pushed himself up, his chest now bare of bandages but the sutures still in his skill were beginning to itch and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without begging Gaius to remove them so he didn’t pull them out himself. 

“C’mon Merlin, that meeting isn’t going to attend itself.” Arthur pulled some of Merlin’s clothes he’d had stashed in his wardrobe and laid them out on his bed. The Warlock clambered from the warm bed sheets, whining as his feet hit the cold floor. 

~~~

“Good morning everyone.” Arthur strode into the hall, the full court already stood by their seats as the King walked around the table. Merlin pacing up behind him. 

A wry smile plastered itself across Gwaine's face as he noticed the King pull Merlin’s chair from under the table before he himself pulled his own and sat down. 

“Before we begin, our fine Court Sorcerer is back and on the mend, I’d like to thank all of you for the hard work you put in to find him and bring him back home.” 

A round of applause sounded around the table as Arthur placed his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, careful not to hit any of his hidden wounds. Most of the noise echoed from Gwaine and Elyans direction, Mordred laughed loudly, clapping along as they whooped. Leon looked mortified, Percival just seemed happy to be involved. 

Merlin still wasn’t quite used to the seemingly positive attention one got when they had a title under their belt.

“It is nice to see you home safely, Lord Merlin, we were indeed worried about you.”  Had it been anyone else speaking Merlin might have put effort into his response but as Lord Ewan opened his mouth Merlin had to bite his cheek. 

“Thank you, Lord Ewan, your concern is muchly appreciated.” Merlin’s voice couldn’t become any more monotone even if he tried. 

Gwaine snickered at that, turning to whisper something to Elyan as the King began delegating the regular topics of the meeting. 

After the obligatory talks of grain and visits from nobles it came to Mordred to talk briefly on the topic of the Druids, they’d held off on his visit until Merlin had returned, Mordred and Arthur insisted to the rest of the Court he be present for the discussion. 

Mordred explained his trip, how the reparations in place were taking effect, how they wished to visit for the Summer Solstice under the promise that the King and his Knights would visit their camp first, unarmed and unarmoured. That had sparked some questions. 

“How can we trust this is not a revenge hit on our King?” Lord Macken spoke, he’d slowly taken to magic over the past few years after he was one to greatly speak against its use; Merlin could not blame the man for his scepticism or his loyalty to the throne. 

“The Druid are not vengeful people, Lord Macken. They are grateful to have a King on the throne who works against the dangerous views surrounding those who practise magic, they welcome him with open arms.” Mordred spoke, his voice had sounded powerful. “And Merlin and I will be accompanying them, I’m sure, they would not tear a riff between themselves and Emrys.”

Merlin cringed slightly at the name, the first time he’d heard it since Carwyn had called him nothing but his Druid name. 

“And how do we know the words you speak are the truth, Sir Mordred? How do we know you are not working against the King?” That same jarring voice interrupted.

“Do you so boldly accuse me of treason, Sir Ewan?”

Merlin saw Arthur tense beside him, opening his mouth but before he could Merlin placed his hand in front of his chest to silence him. Arthur snapped his mouth shut.

“Mordred is a trusted member of this court, I’ve had my quarrels with the Knight, yes but I trust him with my life, he helped bring me home and he has risked his life for this Kingdom too many times for an accusation such as that to be made without proper suspicion.” 

“And you, the mighty Emrys.” He chewed the words. “How can we be sure you were taken by some madman who wanted your magic? You could have made it up, done it to yourself.” 

“Lord Ewan, I suggest you watch your mouth and stand down.” Merlin raised his voice. He’d suffered too much in that cell for some arsehole with a title he did not deserve to call him a liar. 

Mordred called out to him. “ Arthur looks like he’s going to explode .” The druid laughed in his mind. 

“ Do you think Arthur would mind if I flung Ewan out the window ?” he’d laughed back.

“I think he’d smile at him on his way out.” The pair smiled at each other, however Lord Ewan saw that as a personal attack. 

“See! Sire, these two imbeciles are plotting against you in front of your face and you can’t even see it, this whole visit is a ruse and will most certainly see you dead before you even reach the border. That rat of a Court Sorcerer has wormed his way into the Royal household and it is time you rid us of this scum by use of the pyre-” 

The screeching of wooden chairs on stone bounced around the throne room. Arthur was out of his chair before Merlin could draw in his next breath. Gwaine had launched himself up, pulling his sword, holding it sternly across the table to Lord Ewans face. Leon was restraining Mordred as the Druid tried to clamber over the Round Table. 

Arthur tilted Lord Ewans chair onto its back legs, spinning the wood around so the red head was facing him, pushed into the back of the seat. 

“I have every right to put you to the pyre for that comment, Lord Ewan. Merlin is my most trusted member of this Court and that is one thing I am unafraid to admit. I promise you, one more word from that vile mouth of yours and I’ll personally escort you to Cenred’s kingdom. Do you know what they’ll do once you cross that border, Lord Ewan? They’ll hunt you down like the dog you are and use your entrails as a scarf which is only half as much as I wish to do to you right now.” Arthur continued to hold his gaze, boring holes into Ewans dark eyes. “Get out of my meeting. Now!” Arthur pushed the chair back, letting Ewan fall with it. The man scrambled to his feet. He straightened his robes before he spoke again. 

“You are no King of mine, Arthur Pendragon. Uther would be in despair at what you’ve created.” 

“I believe that to be the point.” Merlin chimed in from behind. Ewan watched as a smile stretched across the King's face. Then he spun on his heel and ran towards the door. 

The slam of the wood reverberated around the now silent hall. 

“I’m tired of this now, you’re all dismissed, we’ll reconvene tomorrow and If anyone sees that prick try and enter this hall again tomorrow morning you have my full permission to rid him from this earth.” Arthur yelled out as he pulled the large wooden doors open and abandoned the meeting. 

~~~

Merlin knocked gently on the King's door, his knuckles wrapping against the cool wood. 

Annoyed footsteps approached the door and Arthur swung it open, his gaze easing as he saw Merlin on the other side. 

“You never knock, why did you knock?” 

“I thought maybe If I didn’t you’d have me strung up outside the castle along with Lord Ewan.”

“He is undeserving of that title. You may think I overstepped Merlin but that man, God’s he is a disgrace to this kingdom. I cannot sit by and let someone accuse one of my most trusted Knights of treason and my Court Sorcerer of stringing him along. No matter how many times you threaten to kill me, Merlin, I will not let him try to have you burned for it.” Arthur yelled out angrily. Merlin fiddled with his new blue robes. “Maybe my father would be turning in his grave if he saw what I’d done with my leadership, the changes I’ve made, the people I’ve come to trust.” Arthur met Merlin’s eyes. “But the things I have done I will change for no man. Especially when they include the ones I love in an argument that does not concern them.” 

“Arthur-” 

“And If you believe I overstepped then yes, maybe I will apologise and maybe I will be ‘nicer’ to Lord Ewan but I will not do it lightly, he disrespected you. I cannot have that in my Kingdom. He called you a liar, Merlin, a fucking Liar.” Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation. “God’s I wish I’d have punched square in his smug little face.”

“Arthur-”

“You don't have to sit there and take that shit anymore Merlin you can fight back, you say something. Hell, I don't care fling him against a wall or- or turn him into a donkey. I just- I don't-

“Arthur.” Merlin walked in front of his king placing his warm hand on Arthur’s cheek. “Breathe, Arthur, Breathe. In and out.” Arthur hadn’t noticed how short his breaths were coming in until Merlin’s voice had cut through his rant. 

“Good. Arthur, In and out.” Arthur followed Merlin's breathing, tilting his head forward until their foreheads met, resting against one another.

They remained in silence for a while, skin on skin, breathes mingling in their proximity 

“Thankyou-” Arthur huffed out. 

“It’s okay, Arthur, thank you for defending me in there, though I’m sure if you hadn’t got their first Mordred and Gwaine would have come as a nasty surprise to him.

“I don’t know why he still tries to fight against you, half that room alone would die for you and yet he still insists on tearing you apart.” 

“Because to him I’m an easy target, he doesn’t understand who I am, what I’m capable of or who I have by my side… though I’m not sure that applies anymore.” Merlin breathed out a laugh, Arthurs blonde lashes fluttered on his cheeks. 

“Merlin,” Of course Arthur got the courage now of all times. “There are so many things I wish to say to you. So many words I wish for you to hear.”

“What is it, My Lord.” Merlin thumbed Arthur’s cheek, closed eyes and opened mouths, a miniscule distance between them. “Take your time Arthur, it’s okay.”

Arthur sucked in a breath, mind scanning, Merlin had every reason to back away, to leave to the door and return only when called upon, the path was wide open for him and yet, his soft hand was still resting against his cheek, his eyes remained shut, he trusted Arthur with all his being and the King could see it in his every action.

He sucked in a small breath. 

“Can I kiss you, Merlin?” he whispered, barely audible.

Arthur could hear Merlin’s smile and the little puff of air he released with it. Merlin nestled his head closer, noses brushing gently together, hand still resting on Arthur’s cheek.

“Please-” he mumbled. And Arthur did. Gently pressing his lips to Merlin’s in a chaste kiss, breaking apart slowly as he opened his eyes, blue met blue. 

“Merlin, I-”

“I love you, Arthur Pendragon.” Merlin sounded like he was begging in his whispers. “I love you with every inch of myself. I belong to you.” 

Arthur surged forward then, reconnecting their lips as he reached up to grab Merlin's nape, carding his fingers through the boy's soft hair, tugging lightly as he kissed him deeply. 

“Gods- I love you, Merlin.” he’d gasped out between breaths. Every touch felt like fire beneath his heated skin, the clash of swords, the thrill of the chase. But then again Merlin was so much more than that. He was the luscious grass in the hot summer sun and the thunderous nights that followed. The quieting snow and the heavy rain that flooded the castle grounds. Merlin was everywhere all at once, in everything Arthur did, he saw his Warlock. 

Arthur pulled his hands, dragging them down Merlin’s robes and securing his fingers around Merlin’s waist, driving them both towards the table they’d eaten breakfast on only an hour prior. Merlin landed hard against the wood, shuffling himself to sit on the lumber as Arthur settled between his knees. Merlin’s hands now raked their steady way through Arthur’s blonde hair, cupping his ear and pulling the King closer. Arthur bunched Merlin's robes into his fists.

Arthur could not get enough of the man, he was godly.

“I wish to Court you properly, Merlin.” the King huffed out, resting his head back against the Sorcerer’s as they fought to catch their breath. 

“I didn’t think you were into grand gestures, My Lord.” 

“For you Merlin, I would shout my love for you from the tallest tower of the Castle if it meant everyone knew you were mine.” 

“Possessive much?” Merlin laughed, his swollen lips somehow even more enticing. 

“Merlin. My Merlin, I am yours for as long as you’ll have me.” He was staring, quite embarrassingly now, at Merlin’s mouth. 

“And I am yours Arthur, take me as you please.”