Let Me Die, Let Me Drown, Lay My Bones In The Ground - quotidian_void (2024)

When they arrived, it was the day one of the prince's prized hunting dogs died. It was from a wound acquired from protecting its master during a hunt. And only hours later, a messenger from their party arrived in front of the king.

The fact that they had come from lands at the very edge of Albion’s maps should have made them all more cautious. But they were stuck, having lost supplies to the harsh rain that had poured a day or two ago.

The fault, for once, wasn't to be laid on Merlin despite his abilities to control the weather. He could hardly control the minds of pompous royals. No, Merlin thought the fault lay on themselves. Their idiotic and dire need to find refuge from boredom through fantastical ways just like any other nobles.

He said as much to Arthur as he prepared the prince for dinner with the visiting royals.

"Don't be stupid, Merlin," Arthur, as expected, scoffed. "They said they were looking to familiarise themselves with the surrounding lands as they have a mission for peace." He tilted his head up as Merlin fastened the cape. "They seek to understand foreign customs so as to reduce the likelihood of war. This method could very well bring peace to the land for a long time to come and—dare I say it—unite kingdoms."

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, the dragon's echo of unite the land of Albion bouncing in his head.

He didn't have a problem with the intentions the royals had come with. He was just wondering if he should be worried about it or not since the prophecy had foretold that it would be Arthur who was going to do that.

"Not that you'd understand, of course," Arthur said snidefully. "You're just a peasant."

For that, Merlin yanked on the leather clasp he had been fastening on Arthur's shoulder, making him jump a little.

"Merlin! That's too tight!"

Merlin yanked the other clasp too for good measure.

"Merlin!"

"Yes, sire?" he said innocently.

Arthur turned round to glare at him. He eyed Merlin then shook his head. "If you embarrass me in front of the Hardens," he shook a threatening finger, "I'll have you thrown in the dungeons."

"Me? Embarrass you?" Merlin shook his head in mock earnestness as he picked up the crown-circlet. "Sire, I could never."

"I thought I told you not to be a clever clog."

"Must have slipped my mind, with my peasant understanding." Merlin placed the circlet on his head.

He must have conveyed his annoyance clearly because as he stepped back, Arthur was pursing his lips.

"Fine," he conceded. "You're not a dumb peasant. After all, if you were," he grinned, "I would have no one to write my speeches."

Merlin made a face but accepted the unsaid apology.

"There's something else though," he said as he stood behind Arthur who was looking at himself in the mirror. "The Hardens… they look like there's something shifty about them."

"Oh, without doubt," Arthur said, straightening the circlet a touch. "We haven't had any contact at all with the kingdom of Harden. Them arriving here with only a two-day warning about their arrival is definitely shifty."

"So why offer a feast?"

"Because they're royalty, Merlin." Arthur turned to him again. "It would be rude of us not to treat them."

Merlin rolled his eyes, picking up the dirty clothes. "That's just like you nobles. Scampering around the land, residing in foreign kingdoms and gorging themselves for fun while the servants run themselves ragged."

"The servants are being paid to do their job by preparing the feast." He shot Merlin a look. "Unlike your lazy, incompetent self. Gaius told me you were at the tavern again yesterday."

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek again, shoving the clothes in the basket. "Oh, did he?" One day, he was going to shake some new excuses into the old man.

"You can hardly complain about nobles entertaining themselves while you were drinking and partying it up with your little tavern friends." Arthur shot him another half-hearted glare as he left the room, Merlin following him at his heels.

Merlin only wished he had been partying it up with his friends yesterday. He was too busy dealing with a werewolf who had decided to visit the town.

Uther had sent Arthur to slay the animal/human, but Merlin decided to get to it first and, with great difficulty, break the curse. The curse was a strong one and it had taken Merlin an incredible amount of his power to break it, leaving only the man gasping alone on the forest floor.

Merlin, almost to the point of collapse from the exertive use of magic, left him a pack with enough food and water to last him a few days of journey to the nearest village.

That case had hit him a little hard. It reminded him of another cursed person who was forced to hunt and kill at night.

Merlin couldn't attend Arthur after that. He was weakened by the toll on his magical strength to break the spell and the toll on his emotional strength at having to be reminded of Freya all over again.

After all, it had only been three months since Arthur killed her.

The feast was going smoothly enough. Merlin was serving food and wine along with Gwen and the other servants. He hadn't managed to spill any wine this time. However, he did accidentally bump the jug against Arthur's head once, earning himself a glare from the prince. Fortunately, no one saw so Merlin flashed him a grin, only slightly apologetic.

"May I ask," Uther's voice carried out, catching Arthur's (and Merlin's) attention. "How do you bring yourself to leave your kingdom for such a long time?"

King Aldous took a sip of his wine before setting down the goblet. "It's in good hands. It has been ten years since my son has come of age and he has had more than enough training and experience as I let him handle matters of court from time to time. My wife and I have longed to travel and explore the prosperous lands and marvel at their richness for years."

"Ever since our courting, I believe." Queen Lia smiled as she put a hand on her husband's arm.

Aldous smiled. "I believe." He looked back at Uther. "We decided to take our daughter with us as we would like her to know the diversity that is present in this world if she is to one day be a queen."

Princess Alisa bowed her head and offered a shy smile. She had come of age only a year ago and was so far looking on wide-eyed at the festivities. "The food here is so very pleasant," she remarked. "Undoubtedly filled with more spices than our food at Harden."

"You don't have access to spices, then?" Uther asked.

"We do," Alisa answered before her father could. "We receive most of it through trade."

Uther smiled at her. "You take an interest in these matters then, princess?"

Alisa smiled shyly again. "If I am to be queen… I'd rather stay knowledgeable than ignorant."

"An admirable quality," Morgana said to her from where she was sitting beside her. "I too dabble and take an interest in court matters, though I am to be no queen."

"I have heard you are the king's ward then?" Queen Lia inquired.

"I am."

"Her father, Gorlois, was a most admirable man," Uther said. "I have nothing but praise for him, and I made a promise to him before he died in battle at my side."

"Any man who dies in battle for his king is an honorable one." Aldous nodded.

From there, the conversation moved on smoothly but fell dull to Merlin's ears. He was feeling slightly restless out of boredom. Not only that but every time he went near the Hardens to refill their goblets, a strange sense wriggled under his skin.

He couldn't exactly describe what it was. It was neither painful nor pleasant. It was just there.

He was glad Arthur wasn't sitting beside any of them but on his father’s right.

Arthur raised his goblet while still facing Aldous as the king spoke. Merlin was about to refill it when Gwen got there first.

Merlin smiled as Arthur startled slightly when he saw Gwen instead of Merlin. The two exchanged the briefest of acknowledgements before Gwen moved away, a hint of a suppressed smile on her lips.

"Enjoying the feast?" Merlin whispered when she neared him.

"The Hardens are very nice," Gwen whispered back, her smile deepening as she stood next to him. "Morgana looks to be making fast friends with the princess."

Merlin flicked his eyes over to the two who were engrossed in their chatter. "It seems so."

"Arthur's enjoying himself as well."

Merlin looked to the prince and saw him sending brief glances at Gwen. He smirked. "Yeah. Looking at you."

He accepted the discreet playful slap on his arm.

The evening was going by smoothly and even Merlin had almost managed to forget about the wriggling under his skin, until a sudden, yet not-so-unexpected question from Uther startled the room.

"And what are your stances on magic?"

It took all Merlin had not to tense up. He always did whenever Uther mentioned magic. Even more so after the witchfinder ordeal.

There was still chatter going on, but people were waiting to hear Aldous' response.

"Ah, you're not fond of magic, are you?" Aldous smiled politely.

"No. I have a firm belief that sorcery and any form of it is evil and corrupts a person's soul. It is illegal and punishable in Camelot by death."

Merlin clenched his jaw.

"It is not so much illegal in Harden as it is controlled."

"What do you mean?"

King Aldous took another sip of wine. "Harden has incredibly strict laws on magic, even stricter than Camelot dare I say. This is because magic is not banned there."

Uther said nothing, but a warning and wary look settled on his features.

"We have court sorcerers. A good number of them. As well as knights and servants and farmers and such who are also sorcerers."

Uther tensed up.

"But they all work for and at the castle. Magic is not to be used outside it unless direct permission from me or Queen Lia or the prince and princess. The sorcerers who are under our employment are very closely observed. They aren't allowed to so much as relieve themselves unless their handler deems fit. They eat at a specific time allotted by me and any misbehavior, no matter how big or small or non-magical it is, will be punished by no less than five lashes or strikes with the cane."

Uther regarded him carefully.

"So essentially, slaves?" Morgana asked, her tone filled with horror and distaste.

Aldous smiled at her. "What better role for these monsters? They have to be used for something. Or why would they exist?"

Sensing some tensions rising, Queen Lia diplomatically engaged them in another topic. Something about the discovery of new dye colors or whatever. Merlin wasn't paying attention. His grip on the jug was white-knuckled and it was all he could do to keep his body from trembling with anger.

Whatever good he thought about the Hardens evaporated in a snap and Merlin planted himself far from the front table, letting another servant hurry forward to fill the queen's goblet.

Someone tapped him on the elbow and Merlin realized that he was standing behind Gaius.

"Merlin?" the old physician asked tentatively.

"Slaves. They turn magic-users into slaves," he spat in a low voice. "They treat them like animals."

"Be careful," Gaius warned. "You are still among people."

When Merlin said nothing, his jaw still clenched with fury, Gaius sighed. "There is still a bit more to the feast left. After that, you can relax, my boy."

Merlin gave a curt nod before nearing the front table again.

"They seem such sweet people, I would never have guessed that they employed the use of such slaves," Gwen whispered as soon as he neared her.

Merlin didn't trust himself to reply.

Gwen caught his look. "You don't like it either, do you?" She flicked her gaze to Morgana. "Even Morgana's closed off."

Indeed. She was now giving short, half-hearted responses to Princess Alisa's efforts to reinitiate conversation.

Merlin tightened his jaw and went to fill Arthur's goblet.

"King Aldous," Arthur suddenly said. "I'm curious. How do you keep your sorcerers in tow? Don't they use magic to escape?"

Merlin wanted to stab Arthur for asking the question but refrained.

"They do." Aldous bowed his head once. "Or, at least, they try. There hasn't been a single escape for two years."

"Two years!" Uther exclaimed. "However do you do it?"

This time, the queen replied, "We have special instruments! Harden prides itself on its mastery of inventions. Just a few years ago, our inventors worked out a way to create tools that can restrain even the most powerful of magic-users. In fact!" She reached into the layers of her lavender gown. "I have one such with me right now!"

She pulled out a smooth, egg-shaped stone that was a deep red flecked with dark spots of granite. "I always carry it with me," she said, gazing mesmerically at the stone. "For it is no ordinary stone." She leveled her eyes on Uther's. "It can sense if there is a magic-user nearby."

Everyone on the table widened their eyes comically large. Merlin's anger washed away now to plain fear.

He exchanged a glance with Gaius but the physician's eyes were fixed on the stone with an unreadable look. Merlin landed his gaze on it too.

"Does it really work?" Morgana asked carefully. Her eyes briefly met Merlin’s before she looked away, remembering he knew of her magic.

"Yes," Lia replied.

"How do we know it works?" Uther questioned.

Lia smiled. "It already is. The stone only turns blood red when there is a sorcerer nearby. Right now, it is deep red, meaning a sorcerer is very close by."

Immediately, several knights had their hands on their swords from around the room.

Merlin eyed the stone and the swords with barely concealed fear.

"Who is it then?" Uther demanded. "Tell me!"

"The stone can further reveal the sorcerer by having it touch skin."

Merlin swallowed.

"Shall we try it?" Aldous offered. He looked around and spotted Gwen, beckoning her forward.

Merlin's breath got caught in his throat and he firmly had to remind himself that nothing was going to happen to Gwen because she wasn't a sorcerer. He would have sensed it by now if she was.

Arthur was tense too when Gwen bowed before the kings and queen, keeping her eyes down, though her posture was tight with worry.

"It can't be Gwen!" Morgana protested despite the fear Merlin could clearly see in her eyes too. "She is my maidservant! The poor girl has already suffered enough previously at false accusations." She shot a not-so-discreet glare at Uther who just sighed.

"If she's a sorcerer," Aldous said, "then the stone will burn her. Not too seriously, of course. We won't want to damage them."

"Present your hand," Queen Lia instructed.

Morgana's eyes flashed in anger. "I won't let this happen! You can't come here and start accusing people of sorcery and witchcraft!"

"Be assured, Lady Morgana," Alisa said softly. "If your servant isn't a sorcerer, she will come to no harm."

"I—"

"Morgana," Uther interrupted. He nodded at Gwen, ignoring his ward's furious glare.

Gwen's shoulders were hunched as she raised a hand.

Arthur and Morgana were both on the edge of their seats, watching with hawk eyes. As was Merlin.

The whole hall fell into a hush, everyone curious to watch the proceedings.

Lia, in contrast to her views on sorcerers, gently took Gwen's hand and pressed the stone to it.

It stayed there for a second, then two, then…

Nothing happened.

Of course it didn't. Gwen didn't have magic.

All the same, Merlin let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Arthur sagged too, leaning back on his chair.

Lia smiled warmly at Gwen and released her hand. Gwen curtsied and moved away with the jug of wine with the excuse to refill it, though there still was a bit left, exchanging a small reassuring smile with a worried Morgana.

Merlin decided to follow her. The wine barrels were just out in the servant's hall.

He was about to inch away when Aldous spoke up, "There is still the matter of an unknown sorcerer present."

Immediately, the hall was hushed again and everyone froze.

Merlin silently cursed the man with every foul word he knew. If he moved, he'd be immediately flagged down.

"How are you even able to identify such sorcerers?" Uther asked warily.

"The stone itself has magic."

The knights of Camelot immediately had their hands on their sword's hilts again.

"You are using magic?" Uther questioned angrily.

"Oh, but I am not." Lia smiled. "The stone is. I am only its wielder."

That was exactly what Merlin was trying to show! That magic was only a tool and it was the hearts of men that was evil. He bristled in annoyance.

"Besides," the queen took a sip of wine. "You cannot always fight magic without magic."

"We have fought many battles without magic," Uther drawled, taking a sip of his own wine. "I am still skeptical about the magic stone you are holding."

"Oh, let me prove myself once and for all. I will expose this sorcerer if only for the fun of the challenge!"

Merlin was starting to really hate the Hardens. Keeping magic-users as slaves, calling Gwen forward without warning, and ruining people's lives by exposing them for fun.

Merlin was about to call quits and refill his jug of wine when someone's gaze pierced his back.

He tentatively turned and found Aldous' eyes staring at him. His lips twitched into a slight smirk. "What about him, my darling?" He gestured at Merlin who froze.

"Who— oh." The queen looked him up and down, an almost hungry gleam in her eyes. "Yes… boy, will you come forward please?"

Merlin took a fearful step forward, dread settling in his insides when Arthur interrupted.

"You mean Merlin?" He laughed. "Oh no, he's not a sorcerer. Too much of an idiot to be one."

For once, Merlin was glad for Arthur's pig-headedness. It saved him before, it might just save him again.

"I insist!" The queen pushed, not taking her eyes off Merlin. "There is just something about him that makes me curious…"

"The only curious thing he has left to wonder about is how stupid of a servant he is." Arthur shrugged. "But by all means, go ahead."

Merlin gritted his teeth, his annoyance flaring at Arthur. Stupid, infuriating, oblivious prat.

Merlin hesitantly approached the table, dread growing with every step. His vision was swaying slightly and he was breathing shallower too.

Merlin stood in front of the queen and bowed.

"Hand?"

The jug Merlin was holding with both hands was taken by Aldous and placed on the table. The queen gently took his hand as she had Gwen's.

She met his eyes once, finding something in his expression, she smirked and dropped the stone on the back of his hand.

The effect was instantaneous.

Merlin had prepared himself to stifle pain, but nothing could stifle the agony that not only burst through his hand but pierced his heart too.

He cried out and collapsed on the ground. The gentle grip on his wrist now tightened into an iron one.

"Sorcerer!" many screams filled the air.

Merlin did not dare to raise his head, crying out again, still on his knees, clutching his arm, the stone sending signals of pain to his chest like he was being stabbed.

“This is preposterous!” he heard Arthur exclaim through the shock of pain. “I would know if my manservant was a sorcerer!”

“Clearly you didn’t,” Alisa provided.

“Merlin can’t be a sorcerer.” Arthur sounded less sure of himself.

With great effort, Merlin forced his eyes open to see Arthur eyeing him with a conflicted expression. Uther was regarding him with displeased, narrowed eyes. The king and queen simply seemed amused at the affair.

“I shall prove it,” Lia smiled kindly. She turned to Merlin, that kindness in her eyes now glittering dangerously. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice still gentle.

The invisible knife pierced his chest again and Merlin couldn’t help but let a whimper escape. “Mer— Merlin,” the pain forced him to answer.

“Do a spell for us.”

Merlin shook his head, panting. The agony was fast becoming unbearable. His right hand was still clutched by the queen’s surprisingly strong grip as he was keening painfully on the floor.

She put a thumb on the stone and pressed it further down, making Merlin shout, “Stop, stop!”

“A spell please then, Merlin.”

“You’re hurting him!”

The queen flicked her eyes only briefly at Arthur. “That’s the only way to deal with magic-users,” she replied patiently.

“Summon this, if you require inspiration.” Aldous held out a spoon.

Merlin gasped in pain. How did this happen? How did this all go so wrong? He had a destiny, didn’t he? A destiny to help Arthur and bring magic back to the land peacefully. Why was fate being so cruel to him after assigning him that destiny?

“Merlin.”

He looked up at Queen Lia.

She smiled, her eyes scrunched as if she was laughing at a good joke. “Summon it please.”

She pressed the stone further.

Merlin surrendered with a scream. “Onbregdan!” His eyes flashed gold and the spoon shot forward, clattering to the ground in front of him.

Silence descended on the hall. No one dared to speak a word. Only Merlin’s painful, ragged gasps were to be heard.

Then, Queen Lia smiled brightly, picked up the stone and let go of Merlin’s hand, letting him completely collapse to the floor, clutching his palm.

"Guards!" Uther shouted.

Merlin desperately wished he could pass out for this, but the pain, as suddenly as it came, was gone, only leaving him gasping and extremely worn out.

He watched his friends’ faces as he was dragged out. Gwen had her hand on her mouth, looking teary. Morgana was stunned. Gaius was grim-faced and looking ashen. And Arthur… Arthur’s face was nothing but pure hurt. His eyes widened, lips parted slightly, standing up and hands clutching the chair in a tight grip.

I’m sorry, Merlin tried to say, but he couldn’t even move his lips.

He could do nothing but watch as his friends’ worlds fell apart and he was wrested from the hall.

The king and queen of Harden had elated smiles on their faces.

-----------------------------------------------

She was right. It didn't burn much. The round, symmetrical blister on his hand would fade in a matter of only a few hours. What she had failed to mention, however, was the agony the victim felt with it.

He might have had a chance. Uther was skeptical about the stone and if Merlin hadn't performed the spell, he would probably be at Gaius's, safe and sound in his bed as he talked about the close call with Gaius spreading salve over the burn.

But he hadn't. The pain—it wasn't just causing agony. It coaxed him, along with Queen Lia's sweet please's to do her bidding and perform magic. So instead, he was here. In the dungeons surrounded by and shackled with cold iron that further hindered him from using his powers. Nausea grew with every breath he took in the damp, stinking, musty cell. The walls slimed with grime, grease and substances Merlin dared not think about threatened to close in and constrict him like a snake.

This wasn't how he wanted his secret to be revealed.

He didn't know how or when he had intended to reveal it either. Probably as soon as Uther died and Arthur became king. Perhaps while Arthur was in a good mood, not mourning his father's death that rose him to the throne, sipping spiced wine and being relaxed for once; it best to catch him in a good mood.

Now that it wasn't going to happen, Merlin played endless daydreams of how he would have revealed his magic to Arthur. Saving him from an enemy's sword, telling him before marching into battle, casually displaying it while he was doing his chores, creating a butterfly or something to show that magic could be harmless as well as used for good.

But they were just that. Daydreams. It was never going to happen and Merlin was in denial. What was done, was done, and he had to accept it and figure out the next plan of action.

He wished Gaius was here to help him.

Merlin suddenly straightened up with alarm.

Gaius! Gaius would be in trouble! Uther was no doubt interrogating him right now. Gwen too. Merlin desperately hoped they would be spared.

Merlin let out a frustrated groan and slammed his fist against the wall. Not that it did much.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he had to be locked up here and burnt to death because of how he was born. It wasn't fair that his friends were dragged down along with him because he had magic. It wasn't fair that everyone was looking at him with disgust and distrust just because he couldn't pick and choose what he could and couldn't get at birth.

It wasn't fair that sorcerers all around were reduced to enslaved animals because people were afraid of magic.

There was no reason to fear it too! If only he could show them that it was nothing to be scared about. If only.

Merlin sagged and hugged his knees.

There was no point in wallowing now. All he could do was await trial. If there even was going to be one. Uther certainly didn't care about justice when it came to magic.

His nose itched and tears started to form, but Merlin refused to cry. He wasn't going to. He refused to.

His magic was still weak from breaking the werewolf's curse. He doubted he could do more than onbregdan even without the presence of cold iron. The curse had been a powerful one and Merlin still hadn't had enough time to regather his powers since he needed to prepare Arthur for the day with the Hardens.

Oh, how much he despised the Hardens.

"Evil, wretched, arrogant snakes," Merlin hissed under his breath, wary of the guards stationed near his cell.

He didn't know how much time passed, but footsteps started echoing in the prison halls, leading to his cell.

Merlin didn't straighten from where he was crouched in the corner, but he did tense.

As the footsteps grew closer, he recognized them.

"Food for the prisoner," Gwen's voice called out crisply.

The guards nodded and opened the door.

Merlin sat up, the chains on his wrists clinking, as soon as Gwen entered.

"Gwen," he greeted, awkward. He had been thinking about Arthur and how he wanted to reveal his secret to him but forgot about Gwen. His best friend. His first friend in Camelot.

"Merlin," Gwen said evenly. She was eyeing him carefully.

The caution was warranted, Merlin knew, but it still twinged painfully. He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to tell you—and Arthur—so many times but… the time was never right and…" He trailed off. When he didn't hear an answer from her, he picked the sentence back up again. "And I was scared," he admitted. "At being sent to the pyre, but more importantly…"

Merlin looked up with pleading eyes.

"I was scared of how you would react. To knowing I had magic."

Gwen didn't immediately reply, still watching him carefully.

Merlin looked back down, trying not to let the hurt swallow him.

"Had?" Gwen said finally. "Not used?"

Merlin kept his eyes on the ground, too ashamed to lift them. "No," he said. "I was born with it. I didn't have a choice." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I could move objects with my mind before I could even sit up without support."

His nose itched again and Merlin rubbed at it.

Gwen slowly inched forward.

"Is Gaius okay?" Merlin decided to ask.

"He's spared for now," she replied. Merlin uttered a silent thank you to her for at least answering the question. "Uther's too busy consulting with the royalty from Harden. Though I'm afraid he will get to interrogating him soon."

"Take care of him, will you?" Merlin could not hide the quiver in his voice. "Please. He's an old man and he didn't do anything wrong. He hasn't used magic. Ever. He— he took me in and I don't want him hurt. Tell them— tell them that Gaius had nothing to do with this and he didn't know about me and—"

"Merlin," Gwen cut him off sharply. "Calm down. You're spiraling."

Merlin took a breath and wiped at his eyes. "Please take care of Gaius." He finally faced Gwen. "Please. And look after yourself too. Pretend you were never friends with me if you have to. I mean, you probably don't need to pretend now but—"

"Merlin!" Gwen cut him off again. This time, with something like surprise lacing her voice. She shook her head. "What are you talking about? Why would I pretend?"

Merlin swiped a tear and shrugged, desperation finally getting to him. He turned away from Gwen again. She had a sweet heart, he never wanted to see her look at him with hatred. He would never be able to bear it.

“I’m a sorcerer,” he said quietly. “How can you possibly still want to be friends with me?”

He heard Gwen settle down on the floor in front of him. “I was asking myself the same thing.”

Merlin’s heart sank even more.

“But then as I recalled everything from the moment I met you, I realized… you haven’t done a single thing to harm anyone. In fact, you did all you could to protect others. To protect me. Multiple times.”

Merlin turned to her in surprise.

“You’re not really evil, are you, Merlin?” Gwen said with kind, glittering eyes.

Merlin laughed softly. “No.”

Gwen moved to sit beside him and bumped her shoulder against his. “Didn’t think so.”

“You’re not mad?” Merlin asked hopefully.

“I was but… I can never stay mad at you for long. You’re just…”

“Just what?”

Gwen grinned. “Just too sweet.”

Merlin chuckled in amusem*nt. “Thanks.”

“What’s going on there?” one of the guards called out and started to unlock the cell to let Gwen out.

Gwen grabbed Merlin’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

“You have a kind heart, Gwen. I meant it when I said that before. Never lose it.”

Gwen gave another smile, though not fully managing to hide the worry behind it, and quickly got up to leave.

When her footsteps faded, Merlin sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He smiled.

Gwen was a treasure. He was going to miss her.

Now with her visit bringing him considerable comfort, the reality of the situation started to sink in.

Despite Gwen’s assurances that they would help him, he had to face the reality that nothing could be done.

His magic was weak, he was surrounded by cold iron, the Hardens had other instruments up their sleeves, he had done magic in front of all the important lords, ladies, knights and a considerable amount of staff and servants. Not to mention the royals themselves. There was no way he could talk his way out of it.

Magic was outlawed in Camelot, punishable by death, and he was already in the cells awaiting trial. If there even was going to be one.

He just wished he got a chance to meet Gaius and Arthur before he died.

-------------------------------------------------

Destiny, Merlin decided, was a bitch. A confusing, puzzling, irritating bitch. Merlin didn’t even know what it wanted from him anymore. Did it want to help Arthur or not? Or maybe it just wanted to have a laugh and had him appointed as the clown.

This was ridiculous. Was it even sentient? Or was he a doll in a dragon’s theater?

Merlin was going mad in the cell.

There were no windows except in a distant cell, its light overshadowed by the slowly fading torch, so he couldn’t tell how long had passed. A guard was resting near it, an occasional loud snore carrying through the hallway. Merlin honestly wondered how more of Camelot’s prisoners hadn’t escaped if the guards were this incompetent. Cold iron could only do so much.

Merlin tried to sleep, but despite his exhaustion, it didn’t come. He tossed and turned on the bare, cold stone floor, trying and failing to stave off the dread in his stomach.

Lost in the limbo between waking hours and nightmares of fire, wood and screams, Merlin almost missed the soft footsteps followed by the creak of his cell door opening.

Merlin jumped, startling and scrambling back until he hit the wall.

“Merlin?”

Merlin perked up. “Gaius?” he exclaimed.

The figures came forward, a new torch flickering and illuminating their faces to show Gaius standing with Morgana.

“Merlin,” Morgana smiled tentatively.

A small voice in the back of his head spoke up, telling him to adhere to propriety. Merlin scrambled up and did an awkward bow, ignoring the dizzy spell that hit him with the sudden movement.

“No, no, that’s quite alright,” Morgana said.

Merlin straightened up, but kept his distance. “Why have you come?” he asked, genuinely curious.

"You have magic?"

Merlin hesitated. "Yes."

"So do I."

Merlin remembered the confession, remembered how scared she had been admitting to it, remembered the dragon's warnings about how she was not to be trusted.

He listened to the dragon before. Now look where it got him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." He sank back down to the floor. "I'm— I'm just— Sorry." He was apologizing quite a lot lately.

"Merlin, I get it." Morgana crouched in front of him. "You must have been so afraid. As afraid as I am. That was why I helped Gaius get here by lacing the guards' food with a sleeping draught."

Merlin turned to the worried old man. "Are you injured anywhere?" Gaius asked.

Merlin shook his head. "I haven't been struggling with the chains too much so it isn't bruising much yet. That— that stone, it— it was weird. It burnt my hand, but the blister's gone now. It also felt like there was something piercing through my chest and compelling me to answer their requests." Merlin couldn't bring himself to say their names. "I wouldn't have given up that easily otherwise." His shoulders sagged.

"I know, my boy." Gaius sat beside him, his knees and joints creaking. "That stone, it took me a while to place where I had seen it before. It's very rare—practically extinct—in Albion. Tools like those… they were spoken with fear amongst magic-users. For they are tools forged from magic to restrain and capture magic, made by people who fear the power magic-users hold."

"For all the drama and kindness they show off on the outside, they're nothing but cowards on the inside," Morgana spat.

Merlin smiled. He took turns looking at both of them in the eyes. "Thank you. For coming here. Truly."

Then the smile disappeared and he remembered the chains on his wrists and the location they were all gathered at.

Merlin took a breath. "I'll tell Uther that no one knew of my magic, hopefully that and Uther's trust in you will keep you safe, Gaius."

"Merlin."

"Morgana, Gaius will help you with your magic—"

"Merlin."

"Don't worry if it bursts out sometimes, that's normal. It'll help if you think of it as a ball of power in your chest that you can draw on—"

"Merlin!" Morgana put a hand on his shoulder, firmly grasping it. "We're going to figure out a way to get you out."

"I've helped many prisoners escape, Merlin, I can help you too."

Hope was starting to blossom in his chest—with maybe Gaius, Gwen and Morgana helping, there was a chance—but he flattened it. He didn't want another repeat of his hope crushing like with Freya. "What about the Hardens? With their weapons and things, I can't use my magic and there are too many guards—"

"Everything has a weakness along with a strength, Merlin," Gaius intercepted. "I will not rest until I've found how to outsmart and defeat the Hardens and their cowardly tools."

Merlin smiled again. "You're like a father to me, you know that, Gaius?"

"And you are like a son to me."

He opened his arms and Merlin automatically went in for a hug, trying to absorb every feel and warmth of the old man before he lost it permanently.

They broke apart and Merlin faced Morgana next. "Don't lose that goodness in your heart, Morgana," Merlin said, pushing the dragon's words into an abyss.

"You're a good friend, Merlin." Morgana gave him a hug too, startling him a little, but he hugged her back.

"You better go before the guards wake up," Merlin prompted, breaking away from her too.

"Everything will be alright," Gaius reassured before getting up.

Though he felt little of it, Merlin gave them a hopeful smile.

-----------------------------------------------

It was some twisted sense of deja vu when Merlin heard the Dragon call again.

The first time he was in the cells and heard his name being sounded out by that low, gravelly voice, he had felt a sense of exhilaration. There was magic somewhere in these walls! Mysterious magic that called for him to follow. Magic that led him to a dragon and a great many adventures. Magic that gave him a purpose for his existence.

Now all he felt was resigned bitterness.

Merlin…

What do you want? he snapped at the dragon.

I can feel a strange shift in the air. Something has happened.

Merlin snorted.

What is it, young warlock?

Destiny, Merlin replied sardonically. Godforsaken destiny.

Indeed. Does Arthur finally know about your magic?

Oh yeah.

I thought you might rejoice, young warlock. The shift—it is a signal that the time of Albion is nearly upon us.

Merlin couldn't care less about Albion at the moment. I would be rejoicing if I wasn't stuck in the cells, awaiting execution.

There was a pause. What?

This was probably the first time Merlin heard the Dragon be confused.

Your whole "destiny" soothsaying has been upturned, Merlin took a deep satisfaction in telling the Dragon. With that, he briefly recounted everything that had gone down with the Hardens.

When he was done, the Dragon roared, They do not belong on this land! Merlin could almost imagine the flapping of wings and puffs of smoke emanating from his snout that accompanied anger and distaste.

Tell me about it.

Albion will never be free with their kind lurking here.

Their kind?

Descendants of the witch-hunters. They were killed by us many years ago, but a very few escaped.

That was new and interesting information. In any case, thought Merlin bitterly, I'm going to die. So there goes your destiny or whatever.

Destinies are fickle things, Merlin. You've been doing everything right so far. Perhaps fate has a plan not yet revealed to us, a plan that will let Destiny pass.

Merlin didn't reply. He was done with riddles and cryptic answers.

The Dragon, sensing his displeasure, remained silent.

He was quiet for so long that Merlin was starting to doze off.

Then, ever so softly, the Dragon spoke again, The world will be an empty place without you, young warlock, before he remained silent for good.

-----------------------------------------------

Merlin slept desultorily. He was once again dreaming about burning on the pyre when he woke up with a gasp.

The sight that met him when he opened his eyes was immensely worse.

Arthur was standing in front of the cell, leaning back against the wall and watching him with an indiscernible look. The rest of his features were unidentifiable as well; he looked like the apotheosis of neutrality.

"Merlin," Arthur finally said. His voice cool, calm, and toneless.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, cracks of grief and pain littering the word.

Arthur looked down at him, just watching. His face smooth of any lines or creases that would give away an emotion.

Merlin couldn’t face him. He looked down at the floor instead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Arthur stared.

“I am,” Merlin desperately insisted.

“For what? Practicing magic or lying to me?”

“For— for lying. I can’t help the magic bit. I— I was born with magic.”

Arthur didn’t answer, his faultless poker face hiding his thoughts.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, hugging his knees even more tightly, chains rattling around him.

This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what he wanted at all.

Everything he had been holding back, everything he had been thinking, weighed down heavier than before and the dam broke.

"I'm sorry. I'm— I'm so so sorry."

Contrite tears came one by one and Merlin could do nothing to stop them.

"This wasn't how I wanted you to know—and I did want you to know. So many times. I was going to tell you, the whole truth, nothing held back, but I was afraid and—" A sob interrupted his voice and Merlin clamped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm sorry."

Silence descended on them save for Merlin’s failed efforts to stop the sobs.

How did it all go so wrong so fast?

The door to the cell creaked open and Merlin saw, through blurry, tear-struck vision, Arthur’s boots (polished by him) stepping closer to him before they stopped right in front.

Merlin ducked his head, refusing to look up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur asked in that same toneless voice, albeit a little quieter.

“I didn’t want to put you in that position,” Merlin replied faintly. “And I was afraid you would…”

“That I would what?”

“That you would kill me.” As soon as the tears came, they stopped. A fog, a certain numbness, took him over at the admission and his voice came out as flat and toneless as Arthur’s. “I’d rather die by any other means, even the stake, than by you or your word.” Merlin minutely shook his head. “Neither of us can bear that.”

“You really believe that? That I would kill you?”

“It’s either that or you betray your father by rivalling against his laws. You’re a great man, Arthur.” It was strange that even now he could still speak those words with true conviction. “And you’re going to be a great king.”

Arthur scoffed.

That caused Merlin to look up, determination in his eyes. “It’s true.”

“Why would a sorcerer care about me being king?” Arthur’s eyes wandered, searching his face.

“There is so much you don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Bitterness laced the word. “Yeah.”

Merlin felt a twinge of guilt. “I am sorry. For lying to you about my magic. But that was the only lie.”

“Really?”

Merlin’s heart panged with pain at the disbelief. “Yes,” he emphasized.

“So the years of friendship? Trust?”

“They were never lies.”

“And how can I trust a sorcerer who has been lying for years”

Merlin winced. “I don’t know,” he admitted, burying his face in his knees. “I don’t know.”

Neither Arthur nor Merlin said anything and Arthur turned and exited the cell. Merlin heard the lock on the door click as he left.

-----------------------------------------------

A few hours later, the guards came and dragged him out.

Merlin managed to catch some rest, however sporadic it was. There was no straw, nothing except the bare stone floor and stone walls. So when he woke up to the ear-piercing clang and screech of the door opening, the aches in his joints and back immediately made themselves known, singing out ailments in harmony.

The guards, without a word, released him from the chains connected to the wall, but kept the ones on his bruised wrists, pulled him up, and pushed him out of the cells.

Merlin stumbled, earning another push but still somehow managing to keep his footing. He walked obediently behind the guard that was leading the way. When he left the dungeons, he saw that it was afternoon.

They arrived at the throne room, one of the bigger ones set aside for official business. Like a trial.

Half of the court was present. Gaius and Gwen were there, standing off to the side. Morgana and Arthur were sitting on their thrones on either side of Uther’s. Morgana, Gwen and Gaius expectedly looked troubled. Arthur’s face was set in stone, no emotion, nothing displayed on his expression. Even Merlin couldn’t read him when he was like this. It was the same expression he had on when Morgause had revealed the secret of his birth to him. Throughout the entire ride back to Camelot, he hadn’t uttered a single word nor expressed the smallest tendril of emotion. Right until the end when he stormed through the doors of the throne room. It was the same now. Except this time, instead of Uther, the masked anger was for Merlin.

To no one’s surprise, the Hardens were present too. Though for some reason they were off to the other side, standing as spectators rather than sitting.

Merlin kept his head down as he was pushed onto his knees.

Uther spoke, "State your name to the court."

"Merlin."

"Full name."

"I don't have a last name." Merlin was pleasantly surprised that his voice wasn't quivering even as his heart was banging against his ribs.

"You were born out of wedlock?"

Merlin pushed the echoes of adults and children alike hissing bastard child away to the deep recesses of his mind. "Yes." Might as well let out the whole truth while he was at it.

The court was abuzz with surprised murmurs.

Uther narrowed his eyes. "Wretched of the wretched," he muttered before going back to the trial, making Merlin grit his teeth. "You are aware of the crime you have committed?"

Crime? Being born with magic? Was that it?

"I asked you a question."

Merlin, already gearing up from the anger and hatred towards seeing the Hardens, didn't hold back. He spat out, "I have committed no crime."

Uther's nostrils flared. "Do not lie to me! You used magic! It is clear in the laws of Camelot that you are guilty!"

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn't stop him from bursting, "The laws are faulty. Magic is not a crime."

"I will not have this insolence in my court!" His hand struck him, faster than his eye could catch.

Merlin toppled sideways, resisting the urge to touch the side of his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arthur tense in his chair, nearly about to jump up in objection.

Uther glared down at him in disgust. "And to think I made you my son's manservant. I admit I am ashamed of myself for letting twisted creatures like you anywhere near my son." He stepped back, raising his head to look upon the court. "As evidenced, this boy has used magic and by the laws of Camelot, he is hereby sentenced to death—" Merlin sucked in a breath, "—by burning pyre."

A shudder rocked his body, and Merlin dropped his shoulders. He didn't even have the mercy of a quick beheading.

"Your Majesty, if I may."

Merlin bit back a groan.

Aldous walked forward and stood beside Uther. "I don't think you should sentence the sorcerer to death."

Merlin's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You are a guest here, King Aldous, you do not have the authority I do to pass judgements."

"I am aware. However, I would like to pass some advice and counsel." He put a hand on Uther's arm. "Please," he said imploringly.

Merlin was puzzled. Why was King Aldous requesting to spare him?

Uther considered before giving a nod. "It is, however, my judgement that will be final."

Aldous nodded. "I implore you to consider this matter, Your Majesty. The sorcerer has powerful magic and has been hiding it for years. But magic is resourceful. Using it for benefit will see that your kingdom prospers for ages to come!"

Merlin was now really confused. What game was Aldous playing at?

"I will not use magic," Uther grounded out fiercely.

Aldous looked a little put down but nodded in surrender. "Very well. But there is another option instead of death."

"What?"

"In the load we take while traveling, we have weapons. Tools. All enhanced or built to restrain, contain, control or wound magic."

"What—"

"Our kingdoms have one thing in common, King Uther," Queen Lia stepped forward. "Hatred and disgust of magic."

"We wish to build relations," Aldous continued. "So let us demonstrate what we have to offer other than the basic trade materials. I assure you, you will not regret it."

Merlin blanched.

They couldn't mean that. They couldn't— surely they couldn't be allowed to use even more of their ghastly tools on him? Surely?

But Uther… Uther looked to be considering it.

Panicked, Merlin looked around for support. Arthur looked pale too. Morgana had clear fear in her eyes. Gwen and Gaius had equal looks of horror.

“You want to demonstrate your weapons and restraints for controlling sorcerers?” Uther asked.

Aldous nodded, eyes twinkling now that he knew he had the other king’s favor. “I do. It will be good for both our kingdoms, having a common goal, to merge in the mission to eradicate or control the species of magic everywhere.”

That seemed to do it and Uther gave a decisive nod. “What sort of restraints do you have?”

Queen Lia stepped forward at that, her eagerness springing a skip in her step. “All sorts!” she said gleefully. “That stone, of course. We have more, they’re quite small and easy to carry and very efficient for torture. Either to subdue them, or you know, just to have a little fun.”

Merlin nearly gagged.

“Currently, we have only the very basic restraints. Cuffs, collars, muzzles, magic-sensitive blades and whips.”

Queen Lia caught his eye.

“I must say, I haven’t had such enjoyment in breaking another one of these monsters ever since we set out traveling.” Her smile grew wider. “I can’t wait.”

“You’re a sad*st!” Morgana shrieked, jumping up. “You’re talking about torturing an innocent person—a boy who hasn’t even come of age yet!”

“Morgana…” Uther warned.

“My Lady,” the queen shook her head with a chuckle. “You seem to be under the presumption that sorcerers are human.”

“For all your talk about magic-users being a monster, you yourself are one!”

“Morgana, you will hold your tongue!” Uther snapped.

“I will not,” she spat back just as furiously. “I have held my tongue while watching innocent people being hurt for too long now, Uther Pendragon. I will hold my tongue no longer!”

“Then you will go to your room and stay there,” Uther ordered. “Guards.”

“Fine!” Morgana spat. “Lock me in my room. Just—” The guards grabbed her arms just as she turned to Merlin with a spark of fear and worry for him. Their eyes met and Morgana shook her head. “Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded in a softer tone. “Please.”

Uther opened his mouth to reply, but Aldous spoke first. “My Lady Morgana,” he said. “You are young and don’t understand the ways the world works. Your king has had much experience to know about the true nature of magic-users and magic-holders, in time, you will learn that too, I’m sure.”

That reignited Morgana’s fury. “I will listen to nothing you say, king Aldous. You are just as every bit of a monster as your wife.”

“Morgana!” Uther pointed at the door. “Guards, take her away. Now.”

Morgana glared at the royals as she was dragged out. Merlin dared not to turn his head, his breaths getting shallower and shallower by the second.

The doors closed and Aldous clapped his hands together. “So, shall we get started?”

Another shudder rocked Merlin’s form. The dread in his stomach had reached his throat, squeezing it now. Tears threatened to spring into his eyes, but he controlled himself.

As Aldous beckoned one of the Harden servants forward, Merlin felt like a scared little boy again, wanting to be wrapped in his mother’s arms, her smell enclosing him, making him feel safe.

Then, a servant brought forth a relatively small wooden, brown chest with crow-black swirling designs. Aldous grabbed it and opened it, drawing out a small clump of some kind of blue herb.

Expecting one of those whips or muzzles to be pulled out, Merlin was momentarily confused, as were the rest of the people seated in the room.

“What’s that?” Uther asked.

Lia stepped forward, taking the herb and her eyes twinkled. “You’ll see.”

Princess Alisa took a stone bowl from another servant and stood in front of her mother, holding it as Lia plucked the ethereal-looking glowing blue leaves and dropped them into the bowl. She grabbed a nearby candle and lit them on fire.

Everyone in the room held their breath as the leaves burned, smoke slowly wafting from it.

“What—”

Lia held up a finger, not even looking at Uther. “Any second now.”

Uther bristled in annoyance at the dismissal and opened his mouth, but a loud gasp from Merlin interrupted him.

Merlin gasped again. The air in his body suddenly seemed to leave him— No. That wasn’t what was happening.

The air was still there but… but Merlin… It was like Merlin couldn’t breathe it. His body rejected the oxygen around him, leaving nothing for his respiratory system to carry out its features.

That was when Merlin noticed that the smoke only traveled in his direction and no one else’s.

Merlin’s eyes widened just before an invisible fist closed around inside his throat and he fell to the ground, starting to choke.

He hacked and coughed, desperately trying to clear his airways, to inhale and exhale, to breathe. But to no avail. His body rejected any air and the invisible hand choking his airway kept him from taking a full exhale.

“What’s happening to him?” Merlin heard Arthur exclaim in horror.

“Special tincture,” Lia explained. “When burnt, it releases smoke that is drawn towards magic. And like a predator catching prey, starts to eat it.”

Merlin wheezed, his hands were bound and he couldn’t even lift himself off the floor. He wriggled, trying hard to get the cuffs off, or to suck in some air for his lungs, but failed at both.

Tears appeared in his eyes and Merlin squeezed his eyelids shut, expelling them. He could feel it now, his magic screaming and trying to flee, but trapped in his body as the alien smoke hunted it down. He had more magic than anyone else in the world, so he knew the smoke couldn’t rid of all of it, but it did do quite a significant amount of damage to it. Any chance of escape later now became just a wish.

He heard shouting in the background and recognized Gwen’s voice.

Forcing himself to concentrate on what was happening for Gwen’s sake, he opened his eyes.

Two guards were hauling Gwen out of the room as tears flowed down her face. “Please!” he heard her yell. “Please, just let him go! He won’t ever return, please, you’re killing him!”

“Guards, a night in the dungeon for her,” he heard Uther’s tired but firm voice. “Let her go before morning. Or else Morgana will have my head.” He muttered the last bit.

“Gwen,” Merlin rasped, but no sound came out. He gagged, and a fresh bout of tears escaped his eyes.

Then, as soon as the choking had started, it stopped.

The smoke from the leaves dissipated and the room was clear once more.

Merlin, immediately, gasped again, sucking in as much air as he could, able to breathe again. He coughed, having inhaled too much, but couldn’t stop. He gulped and gulped, not being able to halt.

Finally, the smoke was gone from his system and Merlin could open his eyes and sit up again, breathing raggedly.

He looked at the door where Gwen had been dragged out through mournfully. Oh, Gwen. He desperately hoped she was alright.

He turned back when Lia started speaking. “We always use the smoke first. It eats any active magic they have so they can’t use it to escape.”

Uther eyes the bowl carefully. “Useful,” he commented.

Lia beamed. “Indeed. Now, what would you like to see next? The collar or the cuffs?”

Merlin bit down a whimper. He dared to cast a glance at Arthur. The prince was frozen in his grand chair, still staring at the door outside, hands gripping the arms of his small throne tightly. His eyes nearly flicked down to meet Merlin’s, but he stopped himself and determinedly looked up, his features still hard and emotionless.

Merlin swallowed the hurt. Arthur was the prince and his father’s son after all. He wouldn’t want to defy his father on the topic of magic so soon after the near-patricide ordeal involving Morgause and Ygraine’s supposed spirit just a few months ago. Especially in public for a known sorcerer. A sorcerer who had been betraying him for the past two years.

Still, it hurt.

Merlin chanced a glimpse at his mentor. Gaius looked on edge like he was about to burst any second. The old man caught Merlin’s eye and his face grew even more solemn.

Merlin minutely shook his head, warning him not to do anything lest Uther’s wrath fall on him too.

The clinking of chains caught both their attention.

Aldous picked out a real, actual metal collar with a chain attached to it. A fastening at the back of the collar was melded into the iron, a chain about three feet protruding from it.

It was horrifying enough that several people’s jaws dropped open, including Arthur’s.

Merlin’s breathing jumpstarted, dangerously close to hyperventilating.

A collar. An actual collar. They were going to put a real collar with a f*cking leash on it. Like he was some sort of dog.

Uther narrowed his eyes at it.

“Oh, don’t look like that now, Uther,” Aldous said good-naturedly. “Don’t tell me you feel sympathy for sorcerers.”

“Of course not,” Uther said. “But we’ve never used such… instruments on our prisoners either. Not even sorcerers.”

“Then you should,” Lia said simply, taking the leash and coiling the chain around her hand. “I find Camelot curious. For all its hatred of magic, I’m surprised they actually treat sorcerers as humans. Like they’re fit to live alongside them. Like they can actually think and breathe like us.”

“You really think sorcerers aren’t human, don’t you?” Uther asked.

“No,” Lia answered simply, smiling at him. “They’re less than that. Less than animals. The filth of the world, born out of its darkness as a way for the gods to expel the waste material. Magic is disgusting, evil, dangerous. The only way to properly live in a balanced and beautiful world is to control magic, trap it. Then either kill it or…” She turned to Merlin, flashing her smile at him. “Use it.”

Merlin glared at her, though all he could feel was nausea, numbness and fear inside.

A collar. An actual collar.

Merlin turned to Arthur.

In the brief moment of distraction where he tried to gather Arthur’s reaction, Lia had moved and clasped the collar around his neck with surprising speed.

Merlin’s shoulders hunched and his stomach sucked in like he had just been punched. He steeled himself, for another round of choking or pain, but nothing happened.

Merlin jerked away from Lia’s grip, making her drop the leash. She didn’t pick it back up yet. He twisted his neck, even though he knew the collar won't come off that easily.

All eyes were on him, waiting for his next reaction.

Merlin drew into himself, all too aware of the eyes on him and the collar on his neck. As if the degradation wasn’t enough, humiliation had to be added on top of that.

The collar was tight enough that it threatened to constrict and choke him again but was loose enough that it didn’t. Every swallow and breath he took rubbed lightly against the metal, alerting him of every movement he was making. Its cold, smooth metal set all hairs on his body up. He felt bare. Exposed. Stripped.

He didn’t feel like Merlin. He felt like a dog. Like the exact creature Queen Lia had been describing.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Lia smirked.

“Nothing’s happening,” someone in the crowd piped up.

“No, because I haven’t given any orders yet,” Lia replied.

Aldous cleared his throat and stepped in front of him, looming in front of him. “Look at me,” he ordered clearly as if he was speaking to a machine, not a living, breathing person.

Suddenly, a force clamped down on his chest, his heart, also tapping his brain, forcing his head up at full attention to the other king.

“Good,” he smiled, drawing a shiver from him. “This collar is special,” he said to the court and Uther. “It makes the magic-user wearing it obey any command the owner of the collar gives.” He faced Arthur who looked positively pale. “I have heard that your former slave wasn’t very good at following your orders.”

Merlin and Arthur both flinched at the word ‘slave’.

“Well, this will solve that problem.” He said it like a joke, smiling broadly.

“Merlin—” The word came out hoarsely and Arthur cleared his throat. “Merlin isn’t a slave.” He forced himself to look at Merlin and red immediately crawled up Merlin’s cheeks as the prince’s narrowed eyes landed on the collar. God, could this get any more humiliating and worse? It wasn’t enough that Arthur was mad at him, now he was seeing Merlin like this. With a collar on his neck and a leash attached to him. A creature that needed to be in control.

Gone were the days when they joked and bantered, this was all Arthur was going to remember him as. A collared animal. An evil sorcerer.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot you didn’t know it was a sorcerer before."

Merlin flinched at the "it", implying that he was a thing. A possession. A pet. A toy. The collar only proved it.

"Of course, it would have been a servant back then.” Aldous grinned down at Merlin. “Got the time of your life now, did you? Enjoyed yourself well?” He laughed and tousled Merlin’s hair, making him flinch again. He talked to Merlin as one would talk to a village simpleton who couldn’t speak.

Merlin clenched his jaw, a shiver worming up his back.

Aldous picked up the chain from the ground and Merlin flinched again.

Without a word, he pulled forward, dragging Merlin across with the leash. Merlin grunted as the ground scraped under him.

The nausea grew.

When he was in front of the thrones, he dropped his eyes to the ground and kept his gaze focused there. He couldn’t look at Arthur anymore. He couldn’t look at that stony and cold expression, hiding the hatred and disgust his former friend now had for him. Merlin thought he could trust Arthur. Now he knew… He knew he was wrong.

“It can do magic on your command too! Watch,” Aldous said. “Light this candle.” He set down a candle in front of him.

The force clamped down on his chest again, and a presence—the collar—tapped his head, forcing the magic to come up and obey.

But Merlin had had enough.

He wasn’t going to sit still like a nice little poodle and obey these psychopaths’ commands. He wasn’t going to entertain the nobles with his pain and suffering to quench their boredom. He wasn’t.

He gritted his teeth and pushed the magic down. The immense amount of effort it took, caused him to sway a little, but he managed to stay upright.

Aldous frowned. “I said light the candle.” He shook the chain leash. The vibrations thrummed against his neck.

He steeled himself again and pushed his magic back down once more.

“It’s resisting,” Alisa said with wide eyes. “It must be incredibly powerful to do that.”

“Indeed,” Lia hummed, approaching Merlin and examining him. “You have a very interesting asset under your roof, Uther.”

Uther grimaced. “He… he saved my son’s life. That’s how he became a servant of the royal household.”

Lia waved a dismissive hand. “Who knows what goes on in the minds of magic-users. It won’t be able to resist the cuffs though. Bring them.” She snapped her fingers at a nearby servant who jumped and scrambled to follow her orders.

Two thick metal cuffs were procured from the chest, small but thick and evenly spaced out thorn-like nails attached on the inside.

Arthur let out an unintentional muffled noise, but Merlin could barely hear it through the sudden hard pounding of his heart. His eyes grew wide and he shuffled back a little as they neared him.

He could smell the suffocating aura radiating off from it.

“Ah, you can feel it, can’t you, darling?” Lia said, pleased. “Good. Very good.” She turned to Uther. “These are very useful cuffs, Uther. No sorcerer can resist them. This one may possess quite a bit of magic, but the more magic, the more it weakens them. You can see the runes for it here.” She pointed at the spikes, showing it to Uther.

“The effect is instantaneous,” Aldous clapped a hand on Uther’s shoulder. “Just you watch, my friend.”

Lia called for the guard who had the keys to Merlin’s current cuffs. The guard looked hesitant and Lia rolled her eyes. “It has just been through the smoking, darling. Its magic is too weak to do anything but create a spark right now.”

The guard slowly approached him, ducking his head, quickly opened his chains then withdrew.

A pang of sadness struck Merlin at the fear on the guard. Magic was nothing to be scared of. It was nothing to fear. It was beautiful. Hadn’t he told as much to Freya?

What must she be thinking now, watching him and his magic be torn, suffocated and restrained like this?

He jerked back as Lia crouched down to click the first cuff on him. “Get away,” he said, his first words for what felt like hours. They came out croaky and weak, his throat still raw from the pressure it went through before.

“You are in no position to make demands, bastard,” she said, her eyebrows scrunching minutely in irritation. “Hold him,” she ordered.

Two guards came forward and gripped his arms and the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin painfully. Merlin bucked, trying his damned hardest to get away from the cuffs.

He pulled back, headbutting one of the guards. The man roared in anger at being hit by a sorcerer and shoved his face on the ground, colliding it hard against the stone and Merlin let out a cry. Someone grabbed his wrist and yanked it up, earning a yelp from him, and he twisted his arm, trying to pull free when another hand grabbed his hair and—

“STOP!” A commanding voice rang through the air.

The room stilled and the guards and Merlin froze.

“Father,” Arthur said, standing in front of his chair, hands clenched in a tight grip. “Father, is this really necessary?” His hands shook with every word, pent-up emotions boiling to spill.

“It is,” Aldous answered instead. “For the good of our kingdoms.”

Arthur’s eyes flashed in hatred. So far, he had been a perfect statue, managing to hide a majority of his emotions. Merlin thought that he hated him now, that he really hadn’t accepted his magic and felt more betrayed than he let on, angry at him for hiding such a thing.

But no, that mask wasn’t for Merlin. Not the whole time. It was for the Hardens. For his father.

Because now, with the prince standing up, hand on the hilt of his sword, was radiating hostility and displeasure. “How is torturing Merlin for the good of the kingdom?” He yelled in fury.

Tears sprung to Merlin’s eyes at the use of his name—his real name. And it was Arthur who was saying it, defending him. Despite the conflicting emotions and the poisonous words from the Hardens about sorcerers, he still stood up for him.

“They’re demonstrating their weapons and resources, Arthur,” Uther answered. “We’re hoping to build relations.”

“Build relations,” Arthur scoffed bitterly, the fight rising and rising inside him by the minute, now that he had found his voice. “Is that what you were discussing in private without me last night?”

“If you recall correctly, son, I invited you to the meeting, but you refused.”

“I didn’t know you were discussing torture!”

Taking the distraction as an opportunity, Queen Lia, in a flash, clasped the first cuff on Merlin’s wrist.

The thick, sharp spikes dug into his flesh with a squelch and a small squirt of blood immediately spread across the metal band, sticking to it and dripping down his wrist under his sleeves, the smell slapping into his nose. More than that, a raging burning erupted inside him, stabbing his organs and insides and skin and flesh and everything with white-hot knives.

Merlin screamed clutching his wrist and tipping sideways, his blood smearing over the floor.

“That’s enough!” Arthur yelled as an order. “This is torture and there is no other word for it. We don’t torture our prisoners, Father, we never have!” Arthur thrust a finger at Uther’s chest. “We treat everyone with honor. Even sorcerers.”

“Well, you’ve clearly been missing out,” Lia commented with amusem*nt. “Oh, Arthur.” She smiled kindly as she stood up and faced him with a look that only yielded pity. “You’re young, so of course you don’t know. But… sorcerers aren’t people.” She shook her head fondly. “You must understand that, young prince. Those born with magic, they’re not human. They’re just creatures. Not even that, actually.” With a laugh, she pulled up Merlin’s leash to grab his cheek, harder than needed, pinching it and shaking his head before letting him go.

“They certainly look and act like people,” Lia continued, not minding his whimper. “But I assure you, they’re not.”

Uther, for once, looked like he was objecting it. “Those who aren’t born with magic though…”

“Oh, if they stop practicing, then they’re saved from being corrupted by it, thankfully.”

Uther gave Gaius a look. Gaius who had so far been looking at the ground, eyes closed and hands clasped together tightly in front of him at the mistreatment and torture of his ward.

Arthur took a step forward. “I side with what Morgana said before,” he said with barely controlled rage, eyes blazing at Lia, Aldous and Uther. “This is not an act of honor. This is not the way a king acts!”

“Arthur,” Uther growled.

“Why don’t we,” Lia interrupted and strode forward, “stop here for now? We all deserve some rest from the excitement today. We can continue tomorrow.”

“We will not be continuing at all!” Arthur raised his voice. “I will not allow it!”

“Arthur, just—” Uther pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just go to your room before I lock you in there too.” He motioned to the guards. “Take that away.”

It took a moment for both Merlin and Arthur to recognize who “that” meant. When they did, Merlin winced, withdrawing into himself even more and Arthur let out a snarl.

“Oh wait.” Lia grabbed the other cuff and neared Merlin.

Arthur shot forward and stood in her path and Merlin glimpsed at him in relief. “No,” he said firmly.

Lia smiled with pity, “You will understand later, Arthur,” she said in her sickly-kind voice. “Sorcerers are so much worse than you know.”

“No,” Arthur growled.

“Arthur, just… just let her put the other cuff on him and be done with it,” Uther said, waving dismissively and sitting on his throne.

Arthur’s nostrils flared in anger. “I won’t! Morgana’s right. This is a tyrant’s work. We do not torture our people!” he yelled, words echoing off the room.

“Guards!” Uther finally ordered. “Lock him in his room too.”

Arthur didn’t resist the guards as Morgana did.

“When will you learn, son?” Uther sighed before he was taken out. “Sorcerers are not our people.”

He could still hear Arthur’s indignant grunts when Lia clasped the other cuff on him, earning another scream of agony. His vision was invaded with a blinding gold before it blurred and tears expelled from his eyes. His body shook and trembled at the magic quivering, trying to escape from his very skin.

The only faces he could now see were of the Hardens’ and Uther’s. None of his friends in sight as he blacked out while being dragged across the floor and out of the room.

-----------------------------------------------

When his consciousness came back, it brought an excruciating tsunami of pain with it.

Merlin let out a small cry as soon as he woke up, though it sounded more like a squeak.

“Ow,” he yelped, fingers twitching, body automatically contorting into a fetal position. His breaths came out in rapid and short bursts, his limbs were heavier than Arthur’s mace and a haze clouded his mind.

When he could finally open his eyes, they immediately landed on the cuffs clamped down on his wrists. Dried blood stuck to his skin and clothes, dust itching his open wounds and flecks of dark red stained the metal of the cuffs and the dungeon’s stone floor. He couldn’t see much with the nearest torch being more than a few feet away from his cell, but what he couldn’t see was made up by what he could feel. And smell.

The dampness of the dungeon combined with the distinct smell of rat feces and his own blood drew up bile to his mouth. He swallowed it instinctively, throat burning as it went back down.

All he could feel was pain.

Tormenting, unbearable, piercing pain.

The cuffs weren’t just cuffs, they were more. They didn’t just pierce his skin and flesh, they pierced his magic. His very soul.

And it hurt. It hurt so so much.

But what hurt more… were the words.

I’m surprised they actually treat sorcerers as humans. Like they’re fit to live alongside them, like they can actually think and breathe like us.

The Hardens were wrong, he was— he was human.

Sorcerers aren’t people.

But he was.

Those born with magic, they’re not human.

He was.

They’re just creatures. Not even that, actually.

He was, he was, he was. He was a human, a person, he was— he was Merlin.

But the memories kept pouring, one after the other. They spoke with such conviction, such surety…

I have heard that your former slave wasn’t very good at following your orders

What better role for these monsters? They have to be used for something. Or why would they exist?

They’re less than that. Less than animals. The filth of the world, born out of its darkness as a way for the gods to expel the waste material.

Merlin whimpered and clamped his hands over his ears, the sudden movement of his hands shot another spike of pain through his wrists. But the voices in his head only grew louder.

Magic is disgusting, evil, dangerous.

Got the time of your life now, did you? Enjoyed yourself well?

The only way to properly live in a balanced and beautiful world is to control magic, trap it.

I must say, I haven’t had such enjoyment in breaking another one of these monsters ever since we set out traveling.

Then either kill it or use it.

“I’m human!” Merlin yelled, screaming into the air for someone—anyone—to hear. “I’m not what they say! I’m human!” Merlin sobbed. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if Arthur believed the Hardens.

Even a tendril of doubt meant all the years of friendship, of trust, of all Merlin did for him to protect him, was gone.

All the scars, all the wounds, all the losses and fights he had behind Arthur’s back—just to help him—would mean nothing if Arthur believed the Hardens and agreed about him being less than human too. Even if he didn’t agree with his torture.

No, Arthur couldn’t believe them. He couldn’t. “I’m human, Arthur!” Merlin screamed. “I’m human!”

“I’m not— I would never betray you, I’m—”

“I’m human.”

“I’m human, I’m human, I’m human, I’m human!”

No response. No one to hear those words.

Arthur wasn’t there to hear him. Not was Gwen, or Gaius, or Morgana. Or his mother or Lancelot, or Freya.

Everyone he loved weren’t here and they would all think that Merlin really was nothing but an evil, disgusting thing whose worth was even less than a rat’s.

The way the Hardens spoke those words… with such co*cksureness and certainty… it wouldn’t exactly be hard for Arthur to believe them.

Arthur. The man he had grown so close to despite the difference in stations, going so far as to call him his friend, would turn away from him because of the Hardens. Because they spoke with undeniable confidence and conviction. And Arthur, who knew next to nothing about magic and how it worked, would believe them—or at least hold some doubt.

Merlin was starting to doubt it himself.

“No.” Merlin clutched his head, ignoring the pain that burst up his arms with the movement.

“No,” he repeated. “You’re human. You’re a person. You’re not just a creature, something the earth spat up, something to be tortured, something to be used.”

He groaned, hitting his head against the ground. “You’re a person, Merlin. You’re human. You’re a person. You’re human. You’re a person. You’re human.” He was human. He was human. He was.

His mother had given birth to him and she wouldn’t birth a creature. She was human, and he was human too.

He was a person. He lived. He breathed. He ate. He drank. Even if he was denied those needs right now, after all, no food or water had come his way since he got put in this cell, he was still human. He was.

He was a person. He was human. He was human. He was— He was— But… But did Arthur know?

Did Arthur know that he was human? Did Arthur know that they were still friends? As humans? Both of them?

Did he know that the love and trust Merlin had for him was real? Did he know that Merlin wasn’t—would never—corrupt or manipulate him?

“Arthur, I’m human,” Merlin said out loud, his own voice sounding strange to his ears. “I’m human. And I’m your friend. I’m human. I’m—”

“Shut up, before we shut you up!” Someone banged the metal bars loudly, making Merlin flinch and scramble backwards to the farthest corner.

Breathing raggedly with the cuffs on his wrists pulsing with agony, he watched as the torch faded and the guard walked away.

He hugged himself. There was a pounding in his head that felt too much like when the guard had rattled the bars.

He whined in pain and lay his head down on the cold stone floor, the sensation soothing him slightly as he rubbed the snot from his nose.

“I’m human,” he said again, whispering in case the guard came back. “I’m human.” He knew he was. No matter what people said or thought.

“I’m human. I’m human. I’m human. I’m human.”

“I’m human. I’m a person. I’m a human.”

“I’m human. I’m a human.”

“I’m human. I’m your friend. I’m human.”

He was human. He was a human. He was a person. He was human. He was human. He was human.

He was human.

He was human—

—Arthur please—

—He was human.

He was Merlin.

He was human.

-----------------------------------------------

Merlin woke again, not recalling when he had fallen asleep. He could hear voices up ahead, though they were too distant to make out whose they were and what they were saying.

Not even a few moments later, several footsteps started advancing his way.

They were going to take him to torture him again with those ghastly weapons and the even more ghastly magic. No no no no no no—

Merlin’s breath hitched and he shuffled to the very corner of the cell, pressing himself hard against the wall, hoping to meld with it. Anything. Anything to avoid the torture, the dehumanization, the pain, the way his friends’ faces twisted and how they were dragged out—

The footsteps stopped in front of his cell.

No no no.

The door opened.

No no no no no no no—

“Merlin?”

At the familiar voice calling his name, Merlin stilled. Gaius?

“Merlin, it’s us.”

Morgana?

Merlin rubbed his eyes, getting rid of the panicked drowsiness and blinked up at the newcomers.

Standing at the entrance of the cell were Gaius, Morgana, Gwen and…

Arthur.

At the immediate sight of him, tears came unbidden and sudden, starting to fall at a rapid pace.

“I’m human!” he yelled. Or tried to. His voice was cracked and his throat too dry. “Arthur, I’m human!” he yelled hoarsely again. “I promise I’m not betraying or manipulating you, I’m not! I’m human. Please. I’m your friend— I’m— I’m human. I’m human.”

Arthur’s face fell. “Merlin—”

“I’m human!” Merlin screamed, fisting his hands in his hair as he sobbed. “I’m a person! I’m human!”

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen sobbed and rushed forward, pulling him in a hug.

Merlin violently jerked at the movement, but she didn’t pull away, sobbing along with him as her tears made his neck damp.

“I’m human,” Merlin repeated croakily.

“I know,” Gwen sniffed loudly. “I know. I know you are. Gaius and Arthur told us all what happened and—you’re my friend, Merlin and you’re a person. And you never deserve to be treated that way. Never.”

“I’m human,” Merlin only repeated, feeling too lost and small. “Please.”

“Yes, you are.” Morgana was crying too, her voice breaking. “The Hardens, they’re wrong. They’re nothing but evil, twisted scumbags and liars. They’re wrong. You’re human and so am I.”

Merlin bit his lip and started trembling.

“My boy.” Gaius leaned in and hugged him too. “Don’t listen to them, Merlin, please. Don’t let them mess with your head. Don’t let them drive you insane. You’re not a monster, my boy. You’re a person. You’re my son.”

“You’re my best friend, Merlin,” Gwen said between sobs. “And you’re a pers—” A sob interrupted her words and cut her off.

“Oh, Gwen.” Morgana dropped to her knees and hugged them both. “Oh, Merlin. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I’m so so sorry.”

Merlin wasn’t replying. He was just staring at Arthur. Bottom lip pierced between his teeth to keep from releasing more sobs.

He couldn’t stop the tears, but as his vision blurred in and out with the oncoming tears, he never stopped watching Arthur.

Arthur looked conflicted. He was trying to put up a mask like he always did.

But then he looked away from Morgana and caught Merlin’s eyes. And the mask shattered.

“Merlin,” he said, his voice tight. He paused as if trying to decide what to say. His bottom lip trembled slightly and a tear made its way down his cheek.

“You’re human,” he finally whispered. “You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend.”

And that was all Merlin needed.

He surged forward, breaking apart from Gaius, Morgana and Gwen, collapsing against Arthur’s shoulder and sobbing into his shirt.

“I’ve only used it to pro— protect you,” he cried. “To save you. I wouldn’t— I would never—”

“I know,” Arthur whispered, hugging him back. “I know now. Thank you.”

And those words… those words were all Merlin wanted.

You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend.

Arthur had accepted his magic.

Arthur had accepted his magic.

Merlin didn’t know how much time had passed, crying and being surrounded in a hug by his closest people. The people who all accepted him for who he was and didn’t think any less of him.

He stayed in Arthur’s arms, shaking and crying, dried blood sticking to his clean shirt. The shirt he had washed himself just a few days ago. He felt safe. Safer than he had for— forever. Living in fear every day since the day he was born and… here he was. In the crown prince’s arms, the crown prince who was his closest friend, the crown prince who accepted him despite the law saying he couldn’t.

After a while, it was Gaius who spoke up first, breaking the hug. “We must get rid of that blood.”

Merlin sniffed, clearing his nose, before looking down at his arms.

Dried blood with some flecks of it was peeling off his clothes and skin, papery thin with a strong sickly-sweet, coppery stench.

Gwen had brought a bucket and washcloth while Gaius searched through his medicine bag. “Here, take this.” He handed a phial to Merlin. “It will help with the pain.”

“Thanks,” Merlin croaked, then started coughing, his dry throat from the smoke strangulation shooting pricks of pain as he coughed.

“Oh.” Morgana procured a waterskin from her bag. “Here, have this.”

Merlin gratefully accepted it and gulped down almost all of it in a single breath. “Thank you.”

Morgana returned a smile.

When Gwen lifted Merlin’s left arm first to clean the blood, Arthur intervened. “I’ll do it,” he said, taking the washcloth from her.

Merlin watched numbly as the prince gently took his arm, so as not to cause any more pain, and lightly wiped the blood that stuck to his skin and some on his shirt. Despite the gentleness and soothing the warm damp cloth brought, Merlin couldn’t help but twitch and hiss in pain every time Arthur got too close to his wrists where the cuffs dug in.

“We should get you a new tunic,” Gwen said.

Merlin swallowed the last bit of theriac from the phial before shaking his head. “No. There is only so much they will ignore, Uther and the Hardens will then stop you from coming down here and redouble their efforts.”

At the mention of the royalty, all of their faces soured.

“I hate them,” Morgana snarled. “I hate him.”

“This isn’t like him,” Arthur said, turning Merlin’s arm over by the forearm to clean the blood on the other side. “The Hardens must have done something to him. He wouldn’t bend down so low as to torture prisoners before their execution.”

“Not even if those prisoners are sorcerers?”

Arthur didn’t reply.

Morgana curled her lips downwards in distaste. “With the things those cads say, I’m not surprised Uther allowed them to invoke this— this torture on you.”

Merlin cast his eyes down.

“We will find a way to get you out, Merlin,” Gwen said with determination.

“And I will not rest until I’ve found a way to get these cuffs off you,” Gaius added.

"And the damn collar," Morgana spat.

Gaius pressed his lips together tightly. “That too,” he confirmed.

Merlin wanted to feel hope. He did. He was an optimist most of the time but for some reason… This whole situation… It just seemed too…

Real.

Too impossible. Too hopeless.

Merlin had never experienced life without magic and for the first time, his magic was not only contained but causing him pain. Intense and excruciating pain.

His very skin and tissue were on fire and it was all he could do to curl up and lie down until it went away.

Arthur switched to the other arm, wiping the blood, but in soothing strokes so that the warmth of the damp washcloth seeped into his skin.

Never knew you could be so gentle, the sarcastic comment appeared on the tip of his tongue, but Merlin stopped himself before he could get it out. Would it be appropriate? In this situation? Or would it distress Arthur more?

Merlin stared at his face, trying to determine his mood, but Arthur noticed.

“Come on, Merlin. Out with it.” He said it snidely, but also with a tenderness Merlin had never heard him voice before.

“Never knew you could be so soft,” Merlin finally said.

Arthur scoffed good-naturedly but did not falter in his gentle movements.

“How are you, Merlin?” Gwen asked.

“Better now that you all are here,” he smiled.

“See? I told you he wanted to see us.” Morgana lightly punched Arthur’s arm, earning a scowl from him. At Merin’s questioning head tilt, she expanded, “He was being broody and refusing to see you because he thought he failed you by not speaking up sooner. It took Gwen yelling at him to finally see sense.”

Gwen and Arthur exchanged a brief glance before looking away, slight pink flushes on their cheeks.

It made Merlin smile. “Could you do one thing for me, you two?”

“Anything, Merlin,” Gwen nodded, shuffling closer to his side.

“Don’t ever stop loving each other. Even if you think it will never come to anything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Such a sap, Merlin.” But Gwen smiled at him, a sad glint in her eye. Merlin recognized that look.

“Sorry I’ll miss your wedding,” he said quietly.

Whatever denial about a marriage they had was overshadowed by his implication.

“Merlin,” Arthur said sternly. “You’re not going to die. Don’t be such a coward.”

“But—”

“No,” Gaius intercepted. “Arthur’s right. You are not going to die. We are going to make sure of it. I am going to make sure of it.”

Merlin was spent. “How? My magic’s spent. It was already exhausted when I broke the curse of that werewolf who had come to Camelot and now, after that smoke thing, it’s even more spent.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the werewolf, but he kept quiet

“Well, for one,” Morgana said, “I noticed something in our dear Princess Alisa.” Morgana had a jubilant smirk on her face when she said, “She isn’t like her parents.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Gwen questioned.

“I was watching her briefly while her parents were talking about the evils of sorcery,” she rolled her eyes, “and she had a look of veiled misery on her face. I don’t think she agrees with her parents on the stance of sorcery and magic-users.”

“Are you sure?” Gaius looked sternly at Morgana. “If we approach her and are proved wrong, the results could be disastrous.”

“I’m very sure, Gaius,” Morgana said haughtily with confidence. “I know because I’ve had to live a hidden life just as princess Alisa. I can recognize the look of veiled disagreement and fear anywhere.”

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. He finished wiping the last of the blood and dropped the washcloth back in the bucket. He stared at the thick cuffs on Merlin’s hands. “I’m sorry, Morgana,” he said quietly.

Morgana startled. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You shouldn’t have to live in fear like that.” He didn’t look up from the cuffs as he addressed Merlin too. “You shouldn’t have to suffer torture and pain like this. And Guinevere, you— you shouldn’t have been so harshly and quickly put away and locked simply for suspected of having magic. And Gaius, you too, you shouldn’t have to hide yourself and tip-toe around my father’s various moods.” Merlin spotted a quaver in his voice. “No one of you should be living like this. No one.”

Merlin frowned. “Arthur, you can’t possibly be blaming yourself?”

Arthur clenched his fists, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m supposed to look after my people. Instead, I hunted down and killed them. My own people. For having magic.”

“Arthur, it is not your fault for Uther’s—”

“Merlin, you are one of my people.” Arthur finally snapped his head up. He was breathing heavily, fists still clenched on his lap. “You were being tortured, suffocated, dehumanized, collared in front of me and I didn’t even speak up.” He took a shaky breath and rubbed his eyes as if trying to fight off the memory. “I let you suffer. Watched you. Watched hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Killed some of them myself. This is all on me.”

Merlin gaped at him in mute shock.

He… he had never…

Well, he had daydreams about Arthur acknowledging everything he had done for him. But he had never even thought about him apologizing for his past ignorance. He didn’t need to, he didn’t know.

And yet… here he was.

“It is on you as much as it is on me.”

All eyes turned to Gaius now.

“I stood by too, but I knew the full story. Yet I did nothing. I turned a blind eye as innocents got murdered.” He raised his old, weary and sorrowful eyes to meet Merlin’s. “I encouraged you to hide who you were. Made you live in fear of yourself. I failed you, my boy. I—”

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “No. No no no. No.” He shook his head vigorously.

“Merlin?” Gwen asked with concern.

“No!” Merlin burst out.

“Calm down, what is it, Merlin?” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Blaming yourselves.” Merlin raised his hands to run his fingers through his hair but halted and scrunched his eyes in pain at his wrists.

“Merlin, I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?” Morgana prompted.

“Please,” Merlin whispered brokenly. “Please, if I am to die, I don’t want to die knowing that I left you all this way.”

“Merlin, you’re not going to d—”

“No.” He snapped his eyes open. “Listen to me. You have not failed. Arthur,” he faced him. “You didn’t know. That’s the simple truth. You cannot fault someone for not knowing the whole story. Maybe you should have spoken up earlier, but where would that have gotten you? You would have just been sent to your room like Morgana and I— I would have been alone. Same for you, Gaius.”

He faced his mentor next. “You saw the people you knew, your friends, the people you love be killed and burnt right in front of your eyes just for being who they are. Of course, you stayed quiet. You stayed quiet and helped as many as you could.”

They stared at him.

Merlin sighed, giving up and ignoring the pain as he let his fingers wander through his hair. He didn’t want to leave his friends feeling the worst about themselves. He wanted to leave them with good memories. With laughter and companionship. Not guilt.

Death seemed so close now and Merlin was quite honestly scared. It was only the four faces in front of him who were keeping him from running off the cliff.

“What’s happened, happened,” he said. “Just… just please don’t keep blaming yourselves after I’m gone.”

There was silence for a moment as they all digested his words. Then—

“You’re not going to die, Merlin,” Arthur said in his princely indignant way. “Don’t be such a coward.”

Merlin huffed, smiling. “Sure. Does that mean if I live I’m a hero?”

Arthur’s face turned solemn as he said, “You already always were.” It caught Merlin off-guard, stunning him into silence. “You’re the bravest man I know.”

“Agreed,” Morgana said, Gwen, nodding her proud agreement. Gaius smiled.

Merlin ducked his head. “Thank you.”

“We’ve said it before, Merlin, and we’ll say it however many times is needed.” Morgana put a hand on his shoulder. “We will get you out.”

“If we do employ Princess Alisa’s help, how do we go about it?” Gwen asked.

“Morgana can make a friendly visit to her guest chambers with some dinner,” Gaius provided.

“I can fetch the food,” Gwen eagerly volunteered.

“Hopefully, I can confirm that she’s on our side and employ her help.”

“Sounds good!” Arthur nodded. “When they bring Merlin to the throne room again, at least one of us has to stay.”

“We can all stay,” Morgana said matter-of-factly. “I don’t think we should abandon a friend to suffer alone.”

“Agreed. That was my initial thought, which was why I remained silent. So I could still be in the room,” Gaius said.

Merlin leaned back against the wall, watching his friends go back and forth with ideas. He smiled slightly as he watched them. He loved them, he realized. He never wanted to let go of them.

So he took in everything. Every tiny tic and habit, every dimple and wrinkle, every smile and nod. He memorized the flowy way Morgana moved, the graceful small movements Gwen did while shifting, the confident resting pose Arthur defaulted to whenever he was idle, the way Gaius’ eyebrow jumped at every condescending or affectionate feeling. He memorized his friends, their faces, their laughs, their voices, and the way they all looked at him with warmth.

He was going to miss them.

-----------------------------------------------

Merlin was still half-asleep with exhaustion when he was brought to the courtroom by the leash. There were fewer people today compared to yesterday, but his friends were all present. Grim-faced and determined with hints of fear present under their masks, but there for him all the same. It made the humiliation with the leash and collar subside a little so that Merlin could almost ignore it.

He suppressed a yawn as he sat up after being thrown to the floor, the chain attached to him dropping beside him.

The king and queen were standing in front of him while Uther was on his throne.

An unpleasant feeling traveled down his spine.

Did the fact that Uther was sitting mean that he was going to merely spectate? Did it mean that he was handing the reigns to the Hardens? He never thought he would ever think this, but he wanted Uther to take charge instead of them. At least with his favor as Arthur’s servant, he would be granted the mercy of a quick hanging.

“Good morning,” Lia looked down at him, eyes twinkling and dancing with joy.

Merlin gathered himself up. After talking to his friends last night, he had become stronger. More sure of himself. “Is it?” he bit out.

Lia laughed. “It will soon be, pet.” She turned around, examining the wooden chest the servant was holding up for her. “Now then, your king and us, we talked about the proceedings of today and have come to an agreement on the order of the demonstrations that will happen.” She pulled out a blade.

It was a beautiful thing, something Morgana would kill for. The metal twisted in the middle with a sharp tip, all of its edges razor sharp and glinting in the light. The handle was as dark as oak but made of a different and much sturdier wood. What really caught his attention were the runes on both, the blade and the hilt.

Queen Lia smiled. Then she handed the blade to one of her knights. "Sir Edmund." She nodded her head.

Sir Edmund signaled the guards to hold Merlin. Oh, so we're getting right into it, Merlin dimly thought as the guards gripped his arms and shoulders.

"Where do we start?" Edmund spoke, almost to himself, as he approached him. Merlin glared.

He finally stopped in front of him, standing tall and peering down, then grabbed his hair and jerked his head up, examining him. He made a noncommittal sound. "Where is your core…?"

"Core?" Arthur voiced.

Edmund spun around to him. "Yes. The sorcerer species have a core part of them where magic flows the most. Usually, it's their dominant hands but since this one's a special case…" He trailed off, facing Merlin again.

"Sir Edmund has an uncanny and unique knack for finding magic cores," Aldous explicated. "Best in any kingdom I've ever heard."

Edmund moved the leash out of the way to his back, the cold metal brushed against his spine. Then he trailed the dagger lightly over the back of Merlin's right hand, lightly enough that the blade didn't touch him, but he could feel its presence nonetheless, drawing out a shiver that he repressed.

The dagger trailed from his arm to his neck, making Arthur and Morgana, who were the only ones in his field of vision, to tense. He trailed the dagger further up, from his jaw to his cheek, to his eyes, to his hairline.

Then he stopped. And he smiled.

"Found you," he whispered to Merlin before piercing the blade in his chest with a sucking squelch.

Merlin jerked just as Arthur and Morgana both stood up and Gwen gasped.

He opened his mouth to groan, but the pain pushed his voice high enough that no sound came out. And by God, the pain was bad.

Merlin couldn't breathe. All air thrusted out of his lungs at the sudden shock, he stayed still, mouth open and eyes wide, his windpipe not working not working not working, until—

Merlin gasped, a grotesque sucking and coarse sound.

He gasped again, but this one was mixed with a whine of agony.

"What's happening?" Morgana cried out.

Lia looked at her strangely. "He found the core," she said, an invisible duh at the end of the sentence.

"What's it doing to him?" Morgana demanded.

"Hm?" Aldous tore his eyes away from Merlin, still making horrible sucky sounds, to Morgana. "Oh, inflaming its magic. Burns every time it uses it."

And since he was magic incarnate…

Burning. Is that what the sensation was? He couldn't even grasp at the pain to recognize what kind it was. All he knew was that it hurt.

Then Edmund removed the blade from his chest and the wound started bleeding. Not heavily, since the stab wound was only shallow and nowhere near his heart. But Merlin could smell the sharp scent of fresh blood. He could feel the hot, red liquid trail down his shirt, some of it slipping under the cloth and sticking to his skin, traveling down to his belly button. It tickled.

Then Edmund fisted his hand in his hair once more and jerked him to the side. "Let's make sure the job's done properly, eh?" And he sliced Merlin's cheek. Then his jaw, then the space between his eyes and hair.

Merlin let out a cry somewhere between another gasp and a wail.

"What—" He watched as Morgana turned pale and collapsed in her chair, lip and hands trembling with fear and anger. He knew she was holding back just so she could be here for Merlin. As a friendly and comforting presence.

Merlin wished she didn't have to see this. She had very narrowly escaped being detected herself. She wasn't safe. She needed to get out.

Then that thought was cut off and Edmund the Hay-Stuffed-Ass dragged the blade's tip across the length of his right arm.

Merlin cried out louder than before, then bit down hard on his lip, hissing instead.

Edmund stepped back and looked questioningly at his sovereigns.

Lia raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Edmund. I've seen you do far more than that."

Sir Edmund grinned, baring his teeth. He loomed over Merlin again and ordered the guards to hoist him up so he didn't have to bend.

Merlin felt himself be lifted, but he was too busy keeping the tears at bay at the way his cuts roared. It didn't just stop there.

Edmund attacked and scarred his right palm too, his abdomen, his knee, and his thigh especially deeply. Then he rounded to his back.

All the while, Morgana was watching him with terrified eyes and Arthur was facing to the side, calming himself with deep breaths and looking green. Merlin turned his head to catch a glimpse of Gaius and Gwen and found both of them facing away from him with Gwen trying to meld herself into the castle's walls with Gaius covering her.

Edmund looked up at the royals again. "Would you like me to carve a message on its back like we do with our slaves, your Majesties?"

Lia and Aldous glanced at each other, silently communicating. They both briefly flitted their gazes to the pained expressions of Arthur and Morgana and the blank but slightly interested expression of Uther, then minisculely shook their heads in agreement.

"No, leave it be for now," Aldous ordered. "We have other things to test.”

Sir Edmund bowed, his shaven chin coming into Merlin's view as he was still standing behind Merlin. Then he straightened, kicked Merlin from behind, pushing him forward and exposing his back, and hacked at the skin there.

"Stop. That's enough," Arthur said, trying his best not to sound hoarse. "You'll bleed him dry, he's lost so much al… ready…" Arthur's eyes turned haunted as he finally willed himself to look at Merlin.

Now it was Merlin's turn to try and disguise his emotions as he molded his face into as blank an expression as he could manage to meet Arthur's eyes head-on.

He ignored Edmund making one last laceration on his back, instead focusing on conveying a message to his friend.

I'm not broken. I'm still here. I'm still fighting.

It seemed to work somewhat because Arthur exhaled shakily and dropped onto his small throne, fingers squeezing the arms of the wood tightly.

Edmund stepped back into Merlin's view and handed the red-dripping dagger over to a servant. He pulled off his deep scarlet-soaked gloves, taking great care not to get the blood anywhere on his skin, a look of utter revulsion on his face. "Burn them," he ordered to another servant. Merlin noticed the servant using her sleeves to hold the gloves.

He was too immersed in aflame agony to care. It was taking every bit of strength he had not to let go and collapse into the guards' restraining grips.

"I'm getting bored," Lia suddenly declared.

Immediately, five glares from Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Gwen and Merlin himself shot at her.

She ignored them all, stalking down the raised platform and tilting her head at Merlin.

Unintentional on Merlin's part, their eyes met. Bright blues on rough grays. Lia hummed.

"How did you say you acquired it in your court again?" she asked Uther.

Uther shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "He saved Arthur's life against the knife of an evil sorceress. I made him my son's servant as a reward." His face went dark. "A mistake on my part."

Lia smiled pitifully at him. "I'm so sorry for the humiliation you've faced at the hands of this." She gestured at Merlin.

That made Morgana's face harden from fear to hate. Though she managed to keep quiet.

Uther nodded. "I still don't understand why he saved Arthur though. I mean—" He laughed harshly. "He's a sorcerer."

"Indeed…" Queen Lia stared at him, scanning his tortured form.

She shifted, facing him fully. "What do you call yourself again?"

Merlin considered not answering, but this was the first time something other than degradation and humiliation had come out of a Harden's mouth and he couldn't help the tiny bubble of hope at being addressed normally again. Or, somewhat normally.

"Merlin," he answered, his voice scratchy. Arthur winced.

"Merlin," she parroted. "Like the bird?"

"My mother named me," he said defiantly.

Lia frowned. "Mother…?" Then her face cleared and she laughed. "Oh— oh, Aldous."

Aldous was shaking his head with humor, a smile stretched across his lips.

"Oh. I forgot that these things actually have mothers." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Poor harlot. A monster just like her offspring."

Rage rocketed through his veins so fast that Merlin barely registered himself breaking from his captors' grips and shooting to his feet. "She's not a monster!" he roared.

The guards caught him again before he could get too near the queen, struggling to restrain him, the anger inside him burning harder than the pain fueling his strength in an animalistic way.

"She's not a harlot either and you will not talk about her that way!" His eyes were alight with a deep, deep gold of rage.

He had put up with the comments and torture. He had put up with casual remarks of "monster" and "species". But he was not—not—staying silent when they were bashing his mother.

The court, including his friends, was startled by his outburst. So far, he had been relatively compliant and subdued.

However, in light of the revelation of his friends’ loyalty and affection towards him and the stewing anger inside his body melding with the pain, he had had. Enough.

"Feisty," Alisa remarked quietly.

"Indeed," Lia said. Then a smile blossomed on her face. "You really care about your attachments, don't you, pet?"

Merlin glared with all his might, eyes still glowing gold. While everyone else, including Arthur, was rigid at the sight, the Hardens barely acknowledged it.

Aldous laughed again. "Lia, it's one of those types." He covered his mouth to hide the laugh. "The ones that do think of themselves as humans."

Lia simpered. "We don't have many of those in Harden anymore," she explained to a taut and tense Uther who was gaping warily at Merlin's eyes.

She circled Merlin, who was standing still but alert with the guards's grips on him.

"What a perfect illusion you've created here, pet," she purred. "Preying on the prince's and the lady's young inexperience and softness. Faking your friendships to get close to them."

"You're wrong," Merlin spat. "I didn't fake anything."

Lia naturally paid little heed to him. "You want to be human so badly, don't you, pet?" She cradled his cheek and he flinched away from her, still glaring fiercely.

"Here's a little secret." She shifted closer, her lips inches away from his ear. "For all your wants, you'll never be what you are not."

Merlin shook his head, teeth baring in anger. "You're wrong," he hissed back, taking great pleasure in telling her. "I am human. And so are all the other sorcerers out there. You're torturing innocents."

Lia exchanged amused and exasperated looks with her husband.

"We'll get rid of that soon enough, darling," Aldous soothed.

Lia hummed and patted his cheek.

Merlin jerked his head away again, the chain dragging along the floor with him. "Don't touch me!"

Lia backhanded him instead, eyes flashing with fury for the first time. She gripped his jaw, nails piercing into his skin and cut. "You will respect me," she growled, her breath touching his skin.

The collar was suddenly activated and it forced Merlin to look up and drop his glare. Merlin's heart pounded at the close proximity between him and his torturer.

She grabbed the collar with her other hand and tugged it harshly, shaking him. Merlin gagged at the tightness of the metal. Then she dropped her grip, letting him go.

Merlin's magic subsided from the sudden change and the pain.

"Bring the potion," she barked at one of the servants who immediately scampered off. Merlin was pushed back onto his knees.

He refused to look at anyone, trying frantically to calm his thudding heart.

Invisible worms writhed under his skin where she touched him, amplified by the remnants of obedience ringing in his head thanks to the collar. He shuddered, then shuddered again in an effort to rid the feel of her soft and strong fingers and manicured nails. He hated it. He hated her touch. He hated anyone's touch. But the guards were still holding onto him, tighter than before.

As Lia climbed back on the platform, Aldous slipped a hand around her waist and put his other hand on her shoulder in comfort. She put her own hands on top of his.

"I hate them so much sometimes," she whispered to her husband.

"I know. I know, darling, I know." He kissed the top of her head gently. He then let her go and twisted to face Uther. "Before our kingdom managed to wrangle magic under our control, we were lost in the face of it as you were," he explained solemnly. "Sorcerers and magical creatures attacked someone nearly every day. Lia lost both her parents to magic and I lost my only uncle."

"I used to be a magic sympathizer," she said, her voice wobbling. "I used to be best friends with a sorceress."

"I used to as well," Uther said grimly.

"Let me guess," she sighed. "She turned against you?"

Uther nodded.

"This is the problem with them!" she yelled, emotion overtaking her words, cradling her voice in a way that there could be no doubt that she was the victim. She pointed at Merlin. "Your treacherous kind will never best humankind ever again. I will make sure of that."

Then Aldous moved forward and spat at his feet, rage boiling in his eyes.

Merlin flinched, eyes drawing down to the blob of saliva and spittle in front of his feet before he snapped his head up, refusing to look at it.

The Hardens were liars. They weren't telling the full story. Besides, it didn't concern Merlin. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault what that sorceress did. The actions of one person did not define their whole race.

Merlin was human.

He was a sorcerer and he was human.

He had magic and magic was beautiful. Just like he had told Freya.

He looked towards Arthur for comfort and Arthur was ready to provide some. He nodded at Merlin grimly, a small nod to say that he didn't trust the Hardens, he trusted him.

And by God, if that didn't warm his heart.

He peeked at Morgana and saw her deathly pale, staring blankly ahead on her more modest throne. Arthur noticed the direction of his gaze and moved to put a hand on Morgana's shoulder. Morgana jumped out of her thoughts, gaze flitting to Merlin and growing concerned before moving to Arthur. Arthur smiled at her encouragingly and she gave a small smile back, squeezing his hand.

Lia and Aldous, who had been sorting through another wooden chest, this one filled with bottles and vials of liquids, finally found what they were looking for and held it up.

Aldous turned the purple-tinted small corked bottle here and there in the sunlight, perusing its contents. "Ah. Yes. Yes, this is the right one."

He passed the vial to another Harden knight and the knight bowed, taking the bottle and walking towards Merlin.

"Wait!" Gaius called.

Merlin stopped breathing with fear. No, Gaius.

The old man stepped forward until he was standing beside Merlin. "I'd like to examine the contents of the bottle."

"Who's he?" Lia asked, bored.

"My court physician, Gaius," Uther said. "He is a very trusted member of the court."

Lia looked interested again. "He was the one who used to practice magic, right?"

"Before I came to my senses and outlawed magic, yes. He stopped after that."

Merlin nearly rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure he's not a threat?" Lia asked, hesitant.

"Yes," Uther replied shortly.

"But what if we—"

Gaius coughed lightly, "I'm a physician, your Majesty. Whatever intentions I have are just pure curiosity."

Lia clutched the bottle tightly.

Uther sighed. "The man has been through much of an ordeal. He was tortured and falsely accused by a witchfinder." Uther narrowed his eyes at Merlin. "Now I know that the witchfinder was not mistaken, just misdirected."

"A witchfinder?" Aldous asked, some sort of glint in his eye. "Pray tell, what's his name?"

"His name was Aredian. He died."

"And he pinned down the physician, you say?" Aldous cast his hungry eyes at Gaius.

Merlin's heart lurched with fear. No.

No no no no no no no.

He was not letting Gaius go through the same torture he was, Gaius wouldn't survive.

Merlin turned to his mentor with worry. God, Gaius, why couldn't you have just let it be?

"Gaius didn't know!" he blurted, nearly shouting with desperation, his hoarse voice echoing through the room. "He— he didn't know I had magic. He thought I was innocent." Merlin gulped. "I fooled everyone. Including Gwen," he added for good measure.

Merlin looked up pleadingly at the monarchs, wishing and praying they believed him.

Morgana was covering her mouth, tears surging up in her eyes. Arthur had his face blank again save for his pinched, worried eyebrows. Gwen was out of his line of vision.

"Mer—"

Merlin cut off Gaius with a glare.

All was silent, eyes gaping at him before Aldous burst into laughter. "You're right, Lia," he tittered. "It cares. It has formed attachments."

Merlin gritted his teeth.

"Usually we cut off attachments, but…" He stalked forward, stopping in front of Merlin's bent form. "You're a clever little creature, aren't you? Forming your attachments in high places so they can't be touched."

Trust me, it was all unintentional, he recalled his fight with Arthur in the marketplace so long ago. But I'm glad I did.

Suddenly, Aldous kicked Merlin. His boot connected with his face and Merlin shouted in surprise and pain as he fell backwards, head hitting the ground hard.

"No!" Gaius yelled before another guard restrained him.

Aldous rebuffed him. He grabbed the leash and tugged Merlin up then grabbed him by the collar, earning another gag.

"You speak when someone tells you to," he snarled and shook the collar violently, Merlin's head convulsing with it. "Not a second earlier or later. Am I clear?"

Merlin didn't reply, even without the collar's shout of obey! in his head, he was gagging on the metal band around his neck, trying his best to keep down the food Gaius and the others had brought him last night.

"Am I clear?" Without waiting for an answer, Aldous grabbed one of his cuffs and twisted.

The iron thorns already buried in his flesh scraped through, tearing his muscles apart one by one, with the magic aiding in its mission and having the blood spurting from his wrist. It felt like his hand was being cut off.

Merlin tried. He tried to be quiet. For the sake of his friends. For Arthur's sake. For the sake of Morgana's tear-welled eyes. For the sake of Gwen's shaking form in the corner. For the sake of Gaius's painful expression. But he couldn't.

He couldn't stop the scream that erupted from his throat and refused to be clamped down.

Merlin nearly tore his vocal cords with the scream.

He bucked, trying desperately to get away from Aldous, but the man didn't let go.

Merlin screamed again as he arched his back to pull away. The collar rubbed against the back of his neck at the motion, but he didn't care. He wanted to get away.

"Let him go, you monster!"

Someone pried Aldous' hands away from his collar and cuff, dropping him onto the floor.

Merlin whimpered, clutching his left wrist with shaking hands. His cuts were on fire again, the one on his right palm with which he was clutching his wrist and the ones on his back which he had landed on conspicuously so.

He tore his eyes open to see Morgana pushing Aldous, a look of pure fury on her. Arthur had crossed over from his throne to Merlin's side, looking hesitant about which place he could touch without causing harm.

Their eyes met though Merlin's vision was a bit blurry because of the tears. Arthur tried giving a smile, but it turned into a grimace instead.

"This is vile!" Morgana was shouting at Uther and the Hardens. "You're torturing Merlin and no matter what you say, he is every bit human as you and I. You— you're snakes! Evil, twisted, lying—"

"Morgana!" Uther yelled.

"I will not be silent about this!" she snapped back.

Arthur had found a place where he could provide a comforting touch to Merlin and had buried his hand in his hair. Ignoring the blood coating some of his strands, he ran his fingers through it.

It was bliss. After so long being stabbed, cut, slapped and having his hand nearly cut off, the gentle, affectionate movements were heaven.

Gwen moved away from her corner to join Arthur. She sat behind Merlin, rubbing an uninjured spot on his arm as an act of equanimity. She smiled tightly down at him.

Merlin swallowed a whimper and gripped his wrist tighter, leaning into Arthur's and Gwen's hands, chasing the sensation of gentleness. They gladly provided.

"You are nothing but tyrants!" Morgana shrieked. "Your hatred of magic and your actions today are downright insane!"

"You will not speak to me in this way!" Uther roared.

"I will never forgive you." The guards restrained her just as they were restraining Gaius. "Never!"

More guards appeared to pull Arthur and Gwen away too, but Arthur glared, daring them to come closer and hovering protectively over Merlin.

Aldous sighed and put a hand on Uther's shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "I know these are your children and you love them. You're doing well as a father, it just takes time for them to see that."

"I already see everything," Morgana snarled.

Merlin let out a puff of laughter. She did see everything. She was a Seer.

Arthur looked at him weirdly. Gwen, understanding the joke, smiled.

"It's not your fault, Uther," Lia said compassionately. Then her eyes turned cold and she directed them at Merlin. "It's the sorcerer's."

Arthur inched closer to Merlin. Worried that he might hurt him by touching him, Arthur only crouched protectively in front of him, hand on the hilt of his sword. Gwen took over running a hand through his hair.

"Has he…" Uther fiddled with his ring worriedly. "Has it enchanted them?"

Merlin scoffed.

"No," she said. "It has formed a double-sided attachment. A strong one."

"In order for sorcerers to blend in and pretend to be humans," Aldous said, "they do favors for us. Grant us what we want, say what we want to hear so they can build a guise of friendship. This one," he shot a dark look at him, "is especially good at creating attachments."

"Part of my natural charm," Merlin grunted, though only Gwen and Arthur heard it, their postures easing slightly at his usual cheek.

"There is no guise," Morgana spat. "Merlin is my friend and that's the truth."

"How do we sever the attachments?" Uther asked, ignoring Morgana.

"We reveal the sorcerer's true nature to them," Lia said casually, a smile forming on her lips. "We show them just what they befriended." She smiled wider. "A monstrous creature that needs to be caged."

"You want them to watch this torture?" Uther dithered, casting a glance at Morgana who paused struggling to roll her eyes.

"It's the only way we know to get rid of its attachments," Aldous said apologetically.

Uther considered, twisting his ring. He looked up, watching as Arthur glared at the guards, hovering territorialy over Merlin, and Morgana struggling valiantly against the guards.

"Very well," he nodded. "Guards, seize them and restrain them well."

The guards flooded over Arthur and Gwen. Merlin nearly whined at the loss of touch.

The ones holding Morgana and Gaius pulled them back to the spots meant for their stations.

Arthur put up a fight, lashing out and breaking from his captors' grips. Gwen tried too, but couldn't manage and she shrieked as the guard pinned an arm around her waist.

Arthur roared and fought harder, but two more men joined the effort to straiten him. Eventually, he was pushed back on his small throne and thrusted in place by the guards.

"Are the physician and serving girl staying too?" Lia asked politely.

"I need my physician to do his work properly and he won't be able to because of his attachment to… it," Uther said. "The serving girl is close to my ward, so yes, they both stay."

Merlin's eyes widened as the guards lifted him again.

No. They were going to stay and watch him be torn apart and humiliated the whole time? Before, he held on to that small shred of hope that his friends wouldn't be able to keep quiet and would be made to leave. Now that was shattered too.

He didn't want them hurt because of him.

"Oh look," Lia pointed. "It's scared."

All eyes turned back on him and Merlin withdrew into himself further.

"The idea of its attachments watching its real self scares it." She beamed at Uther, signaling the guards to hold Merlin up as she approached him. "The attachments will be gone in no time at all. This will work."

Merlin snarled. His friends were not mere attachments. And he wasn't a creature. He was human and his magic was precious.

"f*ck you!" he yelled with every strength he had left in him. He strained against the guards' hold. "f*ck you, you f*cking psychopaths."

Lia froze.

She turned to him slowly.

"What did you just say?" she asked. "What did you just say?"

She grabbed the collar.

"Say it again," she hissed.

Merlin was confused. But he pushed that down and glowered at her with venom. "f*ck you," he repeated, having great joy in inserting as much hate as he could into his words.

She dropped him and he landed hard on his bruised and cut knees. She took the leash instead and held it, facing the thrones. "Say it again," she ordered, stone-faced.

Merlin was definitely confused now. "What—"

"SAY IT AGAIN." She yanked the leash.

Merlin winced as he looked up at Arthur, Morgana, Uther and Aldous. The collar pounded his head when he didn't respond

Lia yanked the leash again and Merlin grunted. "Say. It."

Merlin glared, the pounding growing harder as his tongue moved to relieve the mental beating. "You're a f*cking psychopath."

Lia and Aldous exchanged a glance. Understanding passed between the two of them. Understanding that was not clear to the rest of the present party.

"What is it?" Uther demanded.

Lia shook her head. "The potion," she said instead.

The servant who had been holding onto it brought it forth.

"Hold him down," she instructed the guards.

"What are you going to do?" Arthur demanded angrily.

"You can't poison him!" Gaius shouted.

"Not poison," Lia said simply. "Just a lesson. Pinch its nose and open the mouth."

The guards curved his back, facing his mouth up. One of them pinched his nose painfully and the other gripped his jaw in a grip hard enough to bruise, forcing it open.

Merlin struggled, gasping, the position painful and constricting. The collar on his neck closed in on his throat with his head pulled back.

"This will teach you," Lia growled as she poured the purple liquid down Merlin's throat.

Merlin gurgled, refusing to swallow. He struggled and gagged, trying to spit the potion back out.

But Lia reached down and dug her fingers into the long cut along his right arm.

Merlin screamed and choked, the potion clogging his throat. But the guards didn't relent. Merlin coughed and gagged again, but the potion wasn't leaving. Some of it dribbled out of his mouth, and some to his nose, making it burn, but the rest of it, because of the abnormal position and the pain from Lia's fingers digging into his wound, went down his throat.

He coughed, his lungs, nose and throat burning. Droplets of it went flying from his mouth along with his spit. He coughed again, a gurgle forming in his throat. Then he swallowed. And he swallowed again.

That was when the guards and Lia finally released him.

He collapsed to the ground, not reacting when his head banged against the floor, because just then, he started seizing.

His body shook of his own accord. Head jerking back, limbs twitching, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"What's happening?"

Several of his friends’ voices called out, though he could no longer tell whose belonged to whom with the fast haze clouding his mind.

"What are you doing to him?!"

Merlin seized harder, his limbs burning in protest at the unnatural movement, but he couldn't stop it. He wasn't in control anymore. He couldn't control his own body anymore.

After a few more excrutiating seconds, Merlin stopped.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, his breaths resounding in his ears. His limbs still burned, from the cuts as well as from the agonizing forced physical exercise.

He breathed deeply for a few more moments, sounds from outside warping strangely and out of tune in his head.

The sound slowly grew louder and louder and more warped. Merlin steeled himself and opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes and he was alone.

He opened his eyes and monsters were surrounding him.

Merlin shut his eyes closed again in a snap.

There was someone's voice reaching out to him. Niggling into his ears, but bouncing off his eardrums.

Merlin squirmed, clamping down on his ears.

The voice only grew louder. Painfully loud.

So Merlin listened. He dropped his hands and strained his ears.

Open up your eyes and keep them open, darling.

The voice sounded sweet, melodious. Almost like his mother.

Merlin braced himself again and opened his eyes.

At first, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, gold burst into his vision like an explosion and Merlin gasped as his breath got caught in his throat.

Arthur didn't look like Arthur. He was watching him in concern, eyebrows drawn and creased in worry as his mouth formed words, but he couldn't hear his voice anymore. And when he looked up at his friend's face, he didn't see his friend.

It was distorted. Arthur looked like someone carved him out of wood and molded him into the shape of a human. When he moved, he moved unnaturally, like clay having given life or that his wooden form flowed with termites.

He looked the same, but he didn't.

"What's happening?" Merlin whispered and glanced at Morgana.

She was the same. He quickly flicked his gaze away from her and at Gwen. Then he abandoned Gwen and turned to Gaius. Then he snapped his eyes shut.

Merlin curled into himself, not paying any attention to his burning body in agony. It didn't matter. It was wrong. It was so wrong. What was happening?

"I said keep your eyes open."

Sharp nails pinched the skin around his eyes and lids, prying them open.

And Merlin came face to face with Lia.

"This is my favorite part," he heard Aldous mutter to Uther.

And Merlin sobbed. Loud.

The face in front of him glitched and distorted in his gold-tainted visions. It went from grotesque to normal. Then monstrous to kind. All in a blink of an eye. Not that he was allowed to blink.

"Pull it up, I'm not crouching down for it."

Hands grabbed Merlin and Merlin screamed.

"No!" he shrieked. "No no no! Please!"

Voices began murmuring around him and then all sound mangled and pierced his ears. Merlin clapped his hands over them again, but the distortion did not stop.

His vision burned a brighter gold and Merlin screamed again. "Stop!"

A hand grabbed his hair and he could feel someone's breath in his ear.

Merlin stilled, breaths coming out rapidly as he faced the direction of the window, refusing to look at anyone.

"Will you listen then?" the voice whispered. "Obey my command?"

The collar throbbed and Merlin let out a sob.

Another hand grabbed his own and put it on the collar.

"Touch it," Lia ordered.

Merlin shook his head.

The grip on his hair tightened. "Do it."

Merlin gasped, trying to wrench himself away.

"Do not dare to disobey me, Merlin."

Merlin froze.

Merlin.

Merlin.

She used his name.

Addressed him with it.

"You like that, don't you?" the voice teased.

Slowly, Merlin nodded.

"If you want such privileges then you do as I say. Touch your collar. Feel it."

The collar throbbed again and Merlin did. He fingered the metal then brushed against his throat. A shudder rocked his body.

"Good. That's yours. Just for you. It means you belong to someone. It means you listen. It means you obey." She shook him as she spit out the last word.

Merlin frantically nodded.

"Look at me."

Merlin shook his head, ignoring the collar's insistence, tears trailing down his cheeks at the thought.

Lia grabbed the collar and shook him with it. "What did we just learn?"

Merlin scrunched his eyes closed.

"Look at me."

Merlin did.

Then he sobbed again.

The gold burned his retinas and the mere sight of Lia frightened him. The distortions grew heavier and he writhed in her grip, desperately trying to get away.

She smiled and Merlin nearly puked.

"You will listen to me, won't you?"

"Please," Merlin whispered. "Please leave me alone."

Someone dug their nails into one of the cuts on his back and Merlin screamed. "No more!"

The outside voices clamored and thudded against Merlin's ears. Merlin whined. "No more."

Only Lia's and Aldous' voices were clear. "You didn't answer my question."

"Yes," Merlin gasped. "Yes. Yes. Please."

The audio and visual distortions grew heavy, surrounding him and stabbing into his head.

Merlin cried out at the faces that were not faces, scratching at his eyeballs. He screamed at the voices that were thick and heavy, pulling his eardrums out.

He was exhausted. So terribly, terribly exhausted. His body was flooded with pain and tensed up with every small movement. It screamed danger like an alarm bell, but he couldn't stop. Please, he just wanted to die.

"Poor monster," Lia's voice crooned. "For once, scared as it should be." Her hand trailed through his hair, a poor mimicry of Arthur and Gwen's soothing touch.

Arthur. Gwen. Where were they?

"Maybe I should give you a reward."

Merlin perked his head up.

Lia laughed, a tinkling, pleasant sound in-between the agonizing cacophony of distortions. "You'd like that?"

She let him go and snapped her fingers at someone.

Merlin toppled to the floor, once more curling into a fetal position, legs drawn in and hands covering his ears. He breathed deeply for a few moments, calming himself down.

Deciding to try something out, he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and poked around inside for any tendrils of magic. He found them and pulled them up to wrap them around his eyes and ears to act as padding like Gaius often did with bandages. But then, his cuts flared up.

Merlin almost let out a scream but managed to wrangle it down in the end, only emitting a pained "hhhnngh" sound. The cuts burned every time he used magic, he remembered Lia recall.

Merlin grunted, he was magic incarnate. He pushed through the collar before, he could push through this.

Ignoring the fire that waged war on his body and being, he pulled up his magic and obstinately wrapped the tattered and torn strips of it around his eyes and ears.

He opened his eyes again and the gold vision faded. Just a touch, but it faded nonetheless.

Merlin sagged in victory, his body left even more exhausted than before.

Two guards then snatched his arms, not caring to mind the cuts and bruises, and dragged him forward right in front of the platform.

Merlin looked up and whimpered when he saw Arthur and Morgana's faces but not faces. With the extra bit of his own magic dampening some of the potion's effect, he could actually face his friends, but it still pulled at the feeling of wrongness and fear in his head at the sight of them.

He snapped his head over to Lia and Aldous.

Immediately, he honed in on the glass of water in Lia's hand. Merlin's eyes widened.

All at once, he was parched. His throat was cracking and flaking off on the inside with every breath and swallow. The dehydration crashed into him in a wave, as fierce as wildfire, and Merlin swayed where he was sitting on his knees.

"Water?" Lia called, shaking the glass.

Merlin pleaded with his eyes, his throat getting dryer and dryer by the minute.

Then Arthur spoke and the buzz and volume of his voice stabbed into Merlin's ears, making him box his head with his palms. The blood from the cut on his right palm trickled into his right ear, but he didn't care. It hurt.

"Anyone's voice except for the ones it hates pains it physically," Lia said with amusem*nt. "So you'd take care not to shout, Arthur, Morgana. Or you might just do some permanent damage."

Merlin shook his head and sighed at the relief of Lia's clear voice.

He looked back up and found Aldous missing.

His question of "where" was answered when a boot kicked his back, sprawling him across the floor. Merlin cried out as his chin and the cut on it collided against the floor.

Merlin glanced up at Lia questioningly, only to see her upturn the glass of water, the blissful liquid pooling beside Merlin.

Merlin wanted to cry. Well, he was already crying so he supposed it didn't matter.

Lia had told him he would get his water. And now she… she just wasted it all away. Leaving nothing for his parched, dry and raw throat. Now that he was aware of his thirst, Merlin yearned for the relief of water. Its blessed coolness to placate his swollen, grainy throat.

"Oh, don't look like that, sweetheart," Lia said sympathetically. "You will get your water."

Aldous's boot again came out of nowhere and pressed his face to the floor.

Merlin groaned, black spots pirouetting in his vision.

A guard appeared and pinned Merlin's hands to his back, his cuffs digging further into his skin. Merlin groaned again, too tired to scream.

The water Lia had spilled stuck to his face, cooling it down. Merlin closed his eyes in relief. This was somewhat good.

"Do you still want your water, pet?" Lia asked.

Merlin nodded as much as he could with Aldous half-standing on his face.

Lia gestured widely. "You have it in front of you," she said. "Lick it."

Merlin stilled. What?

"Darling, you have water right in front of you. Lap it up," she said casually as if she was commenting on the choice of flowers.

Merlin started shaking. The collar tapped into his head and he nearly opened his mouth.

No. No. He wasn’t going to humiliate—

Aldous pressed his foot on him, tilting his head to the side so his cracked, dry and longing lips touched the paradisiacal water.

Merlin closed his eyes. He couldn’t.

A hushed voice spoke in front of him, too quiet to cause any pain.

"Arthur…" Uther sighed, then straightened. "Slaves are a regular part of war. Don't forget, we are still waging war on magic until it's eradicated. Your former servant is simply one of the casualties."

Arthur yelled, he yelled loud enough for his voice to reach Merlin's ears clearly, "MERLIN IS NOT A f*ckING CASUALTY!"

Merlin opened his mouth, a silent scream got stuck in his throat.

His head roared with the words Arthur had yelled along with the pain that stabbed and tore into his head, outweighing the burning in his body.

The distortion wavered for a moment and Merlin heard Arthur’s broken whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Merlin. I’m sorr—”

Then it came back and Merlin cried out in pain. The voice stopped.

He panted heavily, mouth open and some of the water on the floor already in his mouth.

“Come on,” Aldous encouraged. “There’s a good lad.”

Lad.

The collar pulsed.

Merlin drank.

His tongue flicked in and out, absorbing the water off the floor. Merlin closed his eyes and kept them closed, humiliation and embarrassment crawling up his body.

Instead of the movement and the act, Merlin focused on the chill of the water. The way it softened his dry lips and, what little could trickle down his throat, balmed the way along it.

Then Merlin stopped. A tear trailed over the bridge of his nose, then his cheek, meeting the water on the floor.

What was Arthur thinking of him? Gaius? Gwen, Morgana?

A sob clawed his way out of his throat, shaking his body with force.

The pressure lifted off his cheek and arms, and the air stung against his cuts.

"There, there," Lia cooed.

The words set off a reaction and Merlin started trembling once more. His hands that were wrapped around him, aching and shrieking with every movement and pressure, vibrated against the cuffs. His legs shook too. The tremors also rubbed against the collar. The physician part of his brain wondered if he had a fever.

Lia's footsteps clacked and Merlin saw her stand in front of him. "Look at me," she ordered again.

Merlin didn't shift, still curled into himself, but he still raised his head, too tired and dejected to resist his collar.

"I allowed you a reward," she said condescendingly. "Where's your gratitude?"

Someone spoke harshly and the voice stabbed into Merlin's ears. He flinched, clutching his ears again, and whimpered.

The voice stopped. But Merlin twitched. Adding that to the shaking, he was sure he was getting sick.

"Where's your gratitude?" Lia repeated, this time with an edge to it. She nudged his arm with a foot.

"Th— thank you," he whispered. It hadn't been an order, so he couldn't pin it down on the collar. It was all up to him and his choice. And he had given in. He was broken now and had given in.

Satisfied, she walked away.

Merlin shuddered. Sweat dripped down his forehead and back, mingling with the blood. It was only now he could smell both. Surprisingly, he didn't gag.

He lay that way, drawn into a ball, longing for this all to end. Soft, distorted and thick voices resounded around him but the thin protective layer of his magic kept the quiet tones from hurting his ears and head unlike the loud ones.

Just then, multiple shrieks filled the room and Merlin whined in protest. They didn't stop like last time, they kept going, louder and louder until it was deafening, splitting his eardrums apart.

Get them to stop, he pleaded, not sure if his mouth managed to form the words or not.

Someone lifted him, and Merlin pried his eyes open.

A metal contraption with leather straps attached to it moved near him.

Merlin frowned, his golden vision blurring. It took a second, but when he finally realized what it was, Merlin bucked.

He twisted in the guard's hold, kicking his legs, trying to get away from Lia's approach.

"Just put on the muzzle, dear," Lia said exasperatedly.

A muzzle.

A collar and now a muzzle.

"No," he whispered, pushing away his swirling magic and ignoring the collar's orders. "No, please."

"Aldous," Lia called. "I grow tired of its incessant screeching."

Aldous nodded and took the muzzle from her.

Merlin shook his head vigorously, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "N— not the muzzle, please, I'll do whatever you want. Please," he begged.

The distorted voices in the background appeared again and Merlin flinched, but his eyes were fixed on the muzzle.

"Please," he asked Aldous. "Please."

"We need this on you to keep you from performing spells," Aldous said, actively spitting the last word as he moved it near him.

As soon as it brushed against his jaw, Merlin screamed and used all his force to push back and break from the guard's grip. He landed on the floor and crawled backwards, breath hitching with sobs.

"This is what sorcerers get, sweetheart," Lia told him. "This is what they get for being rude, insulting humans and resisting them."

Merlin shook his head.

"You insulted me and jerked away from my hand, Merlin."

Merlin went rigid at the sound of his— its— his name.

Lia stared at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"For?"

Merlin looked around in panic. Seeing only the glitching, mutilated faces, he directed his gaze back down.

"Let me help you." Aldous walked behind him and lifted him by his hair. "You're sorry for parading around as a human."

Merlin shivered.

"Say it."

Merlin bit his lip. The collar burned into his mind.

Aldous shook him back and forth, his hair pulling on his scalp.

"I—" Merlin hiccuped. "I'm—"

"We don't have all day. The queen tires."

Merlin sniffed, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. "I'm sorry for— for—"

He shook his head minutely and forced himself to look at Arthur, never mind the distortion and the burning gold.

Arthur stared back at him. Even through the scribbled confusion, Merlin could see the tears and the fear on his face. He wasn't disgusted or angry. He was worried for him. Sad for him.

You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend.

Arthur accepted his magic and so did the rest of his friends. That was all that mattered. For now, he could pretend. He pretended his whole life, he could pretend for a few more seconds.

"I'm s— sorry for pa— parading around as a—"

It might be pretend, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"As a human," Merlin let it out in a raspy rush of breath.

"You're not fit to be treated nicely for who you are." Aldous gave him another little shake.

"I'm not fit— I'm not fit to be— to be treated nicely for who I— I am."

Someone was sobbing loudly. It hurt him, physically and emotionally, but he tried his best to ignore it. He just had to get through this. Lia was getting tired. He just had to get through it, then he could go back to his cell and to his friends. To the people who did care about him, who did see him as human, and who did treat him with kindness.

"You should be punished for thinking you were fit to be human." A growl accompanied those words.

Merlin shuddered again.

"I sh—" He gulped and drew his hands around him, afraid to touch Aldous or his hair. "I should— I should be—"

Aldous gave him a violent and impatient shake. Merlin cried out in pain, but also in fear. God, please, how much more?

He glimpsed at Arthur again, flinching at the horrific and deformed sight, then inured himself by taking a breath. "I sh— should be p— punished for thinking that I— I was— was fit to be h— human."

"You're fit for nothing but to lick boots clean."

A sob escaped his throat.

Aldous gave another impatient shake. "You're fit for nothing but to lick boots clean," he insisted.

You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend, Merlin repeated Arthur's words to himself. You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend. You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend.

"I'm fit for nothing but to— to lick boots c— clean."

Aldous threw him on the floor and shoved his foot in front of him. Someone, a guard, brought his arms behind him and put a knee on his back. Merlin moaned in pain.

"Lick it," Aldous ordered.

Merlin sobbed. Please, not again.

"Lick it!"

"Do it, sweetheart, then it will be over soon."

The distorted voices came back along with the collar's hammering and Merlin screamed. Not just out of pain, but because of the frustration and hopelessness shredding his insides apart. He had only one line of comfort, and he repeated it in his head for solace.

You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend. You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend. You’re human. You have magic. And you’re my friend.

A hand shoved his face closer to Aldous's boot, his lips nearly kissing it. He shook at the thought. The smell of the leather's polish hit his nose and he tried moving his head back, but the hand declined.

It will all be over soon, he told himself. Then he brought his tongue out and licked.

He couldn't just brush the leather with his tongue since he was in such close propinquity to it. But he didn't fully lick like they wanted him to either. Just halfway between those two, he touched the leather boot with his tongue and then curled it back in.

No one budged. They wanted him to do it again.

Merlin brought his tongue out again, scraping it lightly against the polished leather. When he brought his tongue back this time, he could taste the bitterness of the polish.

When they still didn't budge, he brought his tongue out again, but this time, the hand tilted his head forward, so his tongue stuck completely to the boot.

Merlin let out a noise of surprise and hastily brought his tongue back in.

The bitter flavor of the polish burst in his mouth, and Merlin bit back a whimper.

The hand insisted and pushed his head forward again and Merlin yielded, giving the boot a proper lick. Then he licked again. Then again. And on the fourth, he started coughing.

He coughed and the boot moved away quickly. Merlin gagged, the taste of the polish sticking to his tongue, to the roof of his mouth, to the back of his throat.

He retched and vomit flooded up his throat, but he swallowed it back, using a tendril of magic to help too, risking the cuts. Lest they made him eat his own vomit off the floor. Considering what he had just done, it seemed very likely.

His throat burned, destroying whatever soothing the water he had gave him.

After the fit was done, he stayed on the floor, too tired to move his weary limbs. The guard had let go and Merlin was frozen on the decorated stone of the ground, breathing in rasping breaths, only pausing to swallow saliva in order to get rid of the polish and boot taste.

"It's late," he heard Uther say.

"Of course," Lia replied.

It took a few moments to process what they meant, but when he understood, Merlin let out a shaky breath of relief. It was over. It was all over.

For now, his brain taunted.

Merlin told his brain to shut the f*ck up.

Two people lifted him again and Merlin blearily opened his eyes.

Then his eyes caught on the muzzle again and Merlin cried out, kicking his legs once more and trying to get away.

"No! No!" he shrieked. "You said you wouldn't use it if I— if I—"

Lia looked at him with levity. "Wherever did you get that idea?"

Merlin's face fell. He thought— he thought—

Someone else grabbed his head to keep him still and Merlin fought. The cuts all over his body pinned and pricked and burned, his throat and head throbbed mercilessly, his legs shook even as he stood on his knees.

Overall, his "fight" involved weakly moving his arms and shaking his head.

"No, please, no," Merlin begged again. "I won't be rude, I won't move whenever you touch me, I promise. Just please don't use th— that." He sobbed.

Aldous ignored him. He brought the metal contraption closer and closer. Merlin went cross-eyed to keep track of the muzzle.

The metal touched his jaw once more and Merlin keened.

The muzzle fit around his mouth, and the metal bands went over his nose, his cheekbones and under his chin. The leather straps pulled back, in the crook of his ear where bone met cartilage, and were strapped and tied at the back of his head in a complicated systemic knot. The holes in the muzzle allowed him to breathe, the air coming in gaps as the metal bands disallowed it from flowing smoothly.

Merlin sagged in his captors' arms when it was done.

His head drooped and his strength and fight left him as well.

"With this," Aldous said, "it won't be able to utter any spells. The runes on the muzzle keep that from happening."

Merlin hadn't even noticed the runes. He could see them now. They glowed an iridescent red, clashing strangely with the gold still in his vision.

"I heard that your sl— servant had problems adhering to propriety?" Lia asked.

"Yes," Uther replied. "I overheard my son frequently complain about the lack of titles it used."

"Well, it will know to use them now seeing as it has been equipped with the equipment so direly needed. It knows its place now, don't you?"

Merlin nodded.

Someone dug into one of the cuts on his side and Merlin let out a hoarse rush of air, too exhausted for a scream.

"What are we currently talking about, pet? Titles, sorcerer, titles."

Merlin sniffled. "Yes, my lady," he whispered.

"Louder."

He raised his voice. "Yes, my lady."

Lia hummed tolerably. "Now apologize to your King for your misbehavior."

Merlin gave up. "I'm sorry for my misbehavior, my lord."

"Now apologize to your master."

Merlin looked up to where she was pointing and came face to face with Arthur.

He flinched as his face glitched, but held his ground.

Arthur stared at him, tears still there and mouth parted slightly.

"Apologize!" Lia ordered.

Merlin flinched again.

How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?

"I'm— I'm sor— sorry for—"

"Louder, pet, he can't hear you."

How long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?

"I'm sorry for— I'm sorry for my— my mis—"

"Louder!" Lia shrieked.

"I'M SORRY, MY LORD!" Merlin screamed, his voice slashing at his throat with a knife. "I'm— I'm sorry for my misbehavior."

Merlin sobbed.

"I'm sorry. I'm— my— my lord. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ar— my lord. I'm—" Merlin crumbled. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry.

"We're done here," Lia declared with a smile. "Take it away."

The guard holding his head took his leash and yanked, leading him out with it while the other two guards dragged him.

Merlin barely glimpsed at the pools and splatters of his blood on the floor before the doors closed shut.

-----------------------------------------------

When Merlin finally came to, he was in someone's arms. Swaddled in an extremely soft blanket, gentle movements going through his hair. He couldn't help but let out a moan of relief before he drifted off again.

When he woke up again, his mind was still in a haze, but he hadn't been shifted from the position. He closed his eyes at the hand smoothly swiping through his hair, fixing tangles gently when the fingers got caught.

When he aroused for the final time, he was more lucid.

"How long is she taking?!"

"Shhhhhh!"

"He's still sleeping, you dimwit."

Merlin floated and rode through the sleepy haze. When the clouds cleared from his head, that was when his vision scorched gold and the curtain of distortion fell over his ears again.

Like a line of dominos toppling, Merlin became aware of the sharp pains shooting through his head and ears, the cuts and gashes that decorated and littered his body, the throbbing through the dryness of his swollen throat, and the cold metal of the collar and muzzle pressing into his skin.

Merlin writhed and let out a scream.

"No more!" he pleaded. "No more!"

Voices, fat and painful, again pierced his ears and he screamed even more.

"Please!" he begged.

The voices went on for a few more seconds before they quieted and Merlin could finally breathe.

He was lying on the grimy and cold floor of what he recognized as the dungeon, the safe arms he was in having now disappeared. The cuts and stab wounds blazed through every inch of his body. Pain thudded and hammered behind his eyes and all over his head and there was nothing he could do about either of those except tense his body and twitch. The red glow of the runes on his muzzle sent sharp pangs at the back of his eyes.

The smell of rat feces, blood, sweat and the general constricting and humid air of the dungeons threatened to choke him. He would have vomited already if not for the muzzle covering his mouth and nose area. If he puked now, he wouldn't have anything to clean his muzzle with and would be stuck with the stink of his own vomit too.

He breathed in and out, trying to control his rapid breaths to be longer and deeper despite the stink.

Then footsteps approached the cell and the hinges shrieked horribly as it opened.

"I'm here!" said Princess Alisa's voice.

None of the voices spoke. At least not loud enough for Merlin to hear.

"I know how to get rid of the muzzle, don't worry."

She came closer to him and Merlin whimpered loudly. "Please, no more. I'll listen, I promise."

She rolled him over to his back anyway. Was she here to whip him with whatever magic-restraining whips they had?

She reached over and touched the leather straps holding the muzzle in place and Merlin flinched, bracing himself and squeezing his eyes shut.

She pulled something, then stretched something else. Merlin waited with bated and tense breath as she worked on the muzzle attached to him.

Was she going to remove it? a tendril of doubt appeared in his head, melting the hatred he had for Alisa.

"Almost done there, Mer—"

Her sentence came to an abrupt halt, warping itself and jabbing a pin into his skull.

Merlin screamed and pulled himself away, covering his ears and shaking his head. "No!" he bellowed. "Arthur!"

More voices joined the caterwauling before stopping quickly when he twisted.

"G— Gaius," he whispered. "Hurts."

The painful voice appeared again and Merlin groaned.

"Arthur," he called out forcefully. "Gwe— Gwen." Morgana's fearful face flashed through his head. "Morgana!"

Where were they?

Someone held down his arms and someone else, his legs. Their grips weren't very tight, but he still couldn't move or fight against them, too weak to do so.

Alisa's hands picked at the straps of the muzzle again and Merlin gave up, lying on his stomach and sobbing, wishing and wishing for his friends to be there with him.

Suddenly, the straps loosened and the muzzle slid slightly out of alignment with his mouth and jaw.

Merlin breathed raggedly and the hands moved away.

Daring to believe his unexpected good fortune, Merlin pressed his palms to the floor and lifted his head.

The muzzle slipped off completely and stayed on the ground.

On the ground.

Not around Merlin's face.

The ground.

Eyes widening in disbelief, he looked up.

And he wished he didn't.

The gold in his vision glared brighter and the horrifying, unnatural faces stared back at him.

Merlin scrambled backward, heart thudding loudly against his ribs. He pressed himself to the corner, tremors breaking out in his body.

One of the figures, Alisa's somehow, raised their hand, holding some type of leaves. The figure then mimicked putting a leaf in its mouth and chewing.

Merlin shook his head frantically.

The figure sighed, exasperated. And Merlin, afraid to disappoint, grabbed the leaves and stuffed them in his mouth, still marveling at the lack of metal surrounding it.

He chewed hungrily on the leaves, suddenly realizing just how much of a hollow, rumbling empty pit his stomach was, even if the leaves were incredibly bitter and dry.

Then he noticed something.

The more he chewed, the more the gold in his vision faded.

With this realization, Merlin chomped on the leaves with gusto.

A distorted voice gave a warning, but it didn't hurt him.

That only made him quicken his process.

In the end, it resulted in him choking on the leaves.

He coughed, trying to expel the shriveled-up greens from his throat. When he was about to cough them out, he noticed that more than just the leaves came up.

Scurrying, he rushed over to the bucket in the corner that was to be used for relieving himself and promptly threw up in it. Merlin heaved and retched, memories of the torture he had gone through in the past three days—had it only been three days?—streamed through his head and he gagged and retched even more.

Finally, it ended and Merlin panted, wiping a tattered, bloody and sweat-soaked sleeve over his mouth.

He leaned his head against the black dungeon wall and sighed.

Breathing in and out the way Gaius had taught him, Merlin felt calmer than he had since— since—

Since he had swallowed the potion.

Just what had it done to him?

"Merlin?" someone called.

Merlin laughed with joy when no spikes of pain shot through his head.

He faced the speaker. "It doesn't hurt," he told Gwen—his Gwen—and smiled.

Gwen's face transformed from worry to relief. "Oh, Merlin. You can't know how happy I am to see your eyes blue again."

"And I to actually hear your voice," Merlin replied with a grin.

She rushed over to him and so did Morgana. The two women blabbered out their worries and fears and reliefs, hugging him tightly. Merlin laughed and feebly raised his arms to hug them back.

As soon as they moved away, tears trailing their cheeks, Gaius swooped in instead. The old man held him as tight as he could without hurting him, his familiar arms and the familiar scent of herbs and old, pressed robes sending spangles of joy and warmth in his chest.

"My boy," Gaius sniffed, rocking the two of them slightly. "My boy. Merlin."

Merlin.

God, how good it was hearing his name without disgust and belittlement attached to it.

He loved his name.

"I believe it's my turn now? Although I really shouldn't be waiting, seeing as I'm the prince."

Gaius broke away with a chuckle. And Merlin was face-to-face with Arthur.

Arthur smiled at him and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Merlin rolled his eyes and pulled the idiot into a hug and Arthur relented gladly.

Merlin breathed in the scent of grass, polish and hay. Like Gaius's, Arthur's scent was a welcome change from the blood and perspiration stink he was used to the past couple of days.

In all the time of their friendship, he couldn't recall an instance where Arthur had willingly let himself be hugged by Merlin. So now, he cherished it. Cherished the warm embrace that overshadowed the painful fingers that burrowed into his wounds. The light touch that distanced the harsh and bruising grips. The serene feeling that shooed away the mist of pain.

He recalled the same gentle hands running through his hair right before the potion…

The potion…

The…

Merlin on the floor, a boot pressing his cheek, forced to drink the water off the floor.

He—

Merlin on his knees, trembling as he admitted that he wasn't human, that he was wrong, that he had the right to be punished.

No.

Merlin licking Aldous's boot whilst in his memory, he told Arthur not to hire a bootlicker—

Merlin pushed away from Arthur and moved into the farthest corner of the cell.

"Merlin, what—"

Merlin shook his head vigorously, hugging himself as tears welled up in his eyes. "Don't," he whispered. "Stay away."

"Merlin, did I hurt you?" Arthur asked worriedly. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Stay away," Merlin hissed, burying his face in his knees and curling his hands in his hair, free from tangles now from when Gwen had been stroking it before he woke up. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve that gentleness. Not after— after—

Merlin let out an animalistic noise of frustration, yanking at his hair.

He had humiliated himself. Dehumanized himself. Licking water off the floor, the dirt and grime off Aldous's boots, and admitting that he was a creature, a thing. Obeying the diabolic pricks of the Hardens, listening to their orders, apologizing and nodding like the exact pet they believed him to be. All while Arthur, Gwen, Morgana, Gaius and a roomful of others were watching.

He could have resisted. He could have tried harder to rebel, but— why hadn't he? Was he really that much of a coward? Was he really just a thing, a possession, a creature to have given in so easily? As if he was giving in to his natural instinct?

"Merlin, what's the matter?" Gwen called softly. "Let us help you."

"I don't deserve it," Merlin gritted out, refusing to look up. "I don't deserve any help you give me!" Tremors started up in his body again and Merlin pushed down the urge to cry again. "I disgraced myself in front of you."

"That was not your fault, Merlin," Morgana said promptly. "That was—"

"I LICKED SOMEONE'S BOOT!" he exploded. "I DRANK WATER OFF THE FLOOR!"

He pierced his nails into his scalp, twisting his hair even more.

"I ADMITTED THAT I WASN'T EVEN HUMAN!"

He couldn't hold it back anymore. He started crying.

"I did that in front of you, in front of other servants and knights and nobles, in front of Uther, in front of the Hardens."

Lia's icy whispers of obey poured into his head.

He let go of his hair and brought a hand to touch the— his collar.

"They're right," he said softly. "I'm nothing more than a stain on the floor. The leftover remnants of the earth. A bastard scum."

He gripped his collar tightly, the muscles in his wrist tightening too, transferring a spike of pain from the thorny cuffs.

He sniffed and wiped his tears off with a dried bloody palm, turning to face his friends. "I'm nothing," he finished.

They gaped at him in horror.

Then, Arthur yelled. "MERLIN!"

Merlin flinched.

Arthur neared him and grabbed his shoulders firmly. "Don't you see what they're doing?" he asked roughly. "And you're falling right into their trap! You halfwit, idiotic—"

"Arthur," Morgana interrupted him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're scaring him."

Feeling much like a wounded animal, Merlin bit his lip to strangle a whimper.

Arthur's eyes widened and regret and desperation filled them as he moved back. "I—"

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quickly, tears once more resuming their outpour.

Titles, sorcerer, titles.

"My lord," Merlin blurted hurriedly.

As soon as he uttered the last two words, everyone's faces in the space fell and horror crept up Merlin's spine.

Oh God, they had conditioned him.

He clamped a hand over his mouth and sobbed hard. "'M sorry," he said again, voice muffled. "I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't mean—"

Arthur froze, not being able to speak.

"I'm sorry, s— sire— Arthur. I'm s— sorry." He curled into himself in shame. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Arthur regained his composure and shook his head. "No. No no no no no, Merlin, please." He crept near him. "Please don't apologize to me, please. You didn't misbehave, and even if you did, I really don't mind. I never did. Not after the start. Merlin, you're my friend and you never have to apologize to me that way. Never apologize if you don't want to, please."

Merlin cried into his hand.

"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I was the one who complained openly so my father could hear. I am the one who didn't try hard enough to stop your torture. I am the reason you're in this mess."

"No!" Merlin protested, uncovering his mouth. "You didn't—"

"Yes, it is." And to his horror, tears formed in the prince's eyes. "I treated you horribly. Like a lowly servant and not a friend when all you've done is help me. Gaius told us everything you did and— and there was so much going on, I didn't even know and I just lobbed objects at your head in return for saving my life."

"Arthur, how can you say it was your fault?" Merlin whispered in horror. "You didn't even know."

"It was because of my misbehavior that you're in this situation, Merlin," Arthur answered desolately, tears—wrong, wrong tears because Arthur didn't cry—spilled down his cheeks. "Because I didn't create a safe enough space for you to trust me to tell me about your magic. I insulted you, belittled you, and gave you endless chores because I found it amusing." He made a face and clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. "I'm the disgusting wretch here. Not you. Never you."

Merlin was speechless. What could he possibly say to that?

As he stared at a silently sobbing Arthur, Morgana decided the silence was enough.

"Well, you're not wrong."

Everyone turned to her in surprise.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not changing my mind. I've seen some of the ways you treated and spoke about Merlin even if it’s part of your usual banter. Frankly, I disagreed with all of it. So yes, you're not wrong about all that."

Merlin glared at Morgana.

She looked at him and gave an amused smile. "Except for the last bit." She turned to her sort-of brother. "You are not a disgusting wretch, Arthur. No one here is. You are an immature prince, there is a difference."

"I agree with Morgana," Gwen said. "You may have your faults, Arthur, but you fix them. You work on them. You apologize when you need to and despite your previous outward actions for Merlin, you care about him. Deeply." She smiled and faced Merlin. "After all, no normal prince would disobey his father's orders to save his poisoned manservant."

"Or drink poison for his servant," Merlin added, grinning at Arthur.

"What?"

"I'll explain later."

Arthur smiled. Then his eyes landed on his collar and it faded. "Still," he said. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me. There is nothing there for you to apologize for. You've been tortured, Merlin. You're not a knight, you're not trained for this, plus those were magical torture instruments."

"Arthur's right." Gaius shifted closer to Merlin, his old bones creaking with the movement. "I don't think, under normal circ*mstances, you would have… done all those things. But these aren't normal circ*mstances." Gaius pointed at the collar. "That collar forces you to obey the Hardens' commands, right?"

Merlin nodded. "But I can resist it."

"You can't resist it all the time."

"And I bet that dagger played a big part too," Gwen said grimly.

"They burn constantly," Merlin admitted, trying to ignore how the wounds all flared up at their mention. "They don't stop."

"Those cuffs too." Morgana wrinkled her nose at them. "I can sense the stifling aura around it still."

"The potion as well," Princess Alisa spoke up for the first time. "It doesn't just make the faces and voices of your loved ones look scary and the ones of the people you hate look sweet. I've seen many sorcerers drive themselves to madness within the first day until they beg for death."

Merlin drew into himself and swallowed.

"It manipulates your brain. Your sense of self. All the instruments do." She tilted her head. "Though you're doing better than I expected."

"I'm told I'm a special case," Merlin said carefully.

"I think you are."

Merlin eyed the princess. Her physical and facial features took after her mother too much for his liking. She made him enormously uncomfortable, but she was also the one who had released him from the muzzle and given him a cure for the grotty potion.

"Thank you," he told her.

Alisa looked down in shame. "You're the first one I ever helped. Beyond sympathetic looks and kind words I mean."

She sighed heavily and crossed her legs.

"My brother and I… we're not like our parents."

"I can see that," Morgana said with curious and fierce eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, but how?"

"We…" She chewed nervously on a nail. "We were saved by a sorcerer once." She hesitated. "My aunt not by blood. My mother's best friend."

Merlin gasped in surprise.

"Her name was Maria and she was… she was the nicest, most cheerful person you could ever meet." A wistful smile appeared on her face. "She always had a kind word for everyone and I don't think I've ever seen her without a smile. She taught me how to read when my tutor got beheaded for hitting me. She showed me how to hunt, how to ride, how to behave in diplomatic situations. She taught me and my brother that together." A small laugh bubbled out of her throat. "Those were the best times."

"What happened?" Gwen asked quietly.

Alisa's face saddened and grew burdened. "There was a visiting king whose son I was supposed to marry when I came of age. Only neither the son nor father had clean intentions. They both had magic. Dark magic."

Merlin got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

"One day, the prince tried to… play with me. My brother saw and immediately fetched Aunt Maria. She used a teleportation spell, caught the prince off guard, and killed him. She had a ferocious temper that was widely known. She couldn't control her anger at times. That was one of the times."

Alisa shuddered. "The king grew angry and cast a spell to possess her. Then he made her do things." She gulped. "Horrible, evil things. He made her attack our knights and leave them mutilated. He made her… her take advantage of commoners who visited the court then kill them. He made her try to kill my parents in their sleep."

Alisa rubbed her eyes, then her nose. "My mother and father witnessed the carnage the king wrought upon their kingdom through Maria. Only… they didn't know that the king was possessing her. They thought it was all Maria. They saw the chaos Maria cast upon Harden and its people with magic. Crops growing maggots instead of corn, people's eyes simply disappearing from their sockets, a huge chunk of the children being born with obviously magical defects. It wasn't Maria's fault. She wasn't in control. But they didn't know, so they thought she must have grown corrupted.

"My brother and I only found out when we decided to investigate ourselves since only we knew what had happened with the prince. We finally found how the king was possessing Maria and killed the king and burned his spell. My brother did, mostly. While we were doing that, my parents had found a way to kill Maria and they did."

Alisa wiped the tears from her face. "I never found out whether Aunt Maria died possessed, or as herself. And I never can. We tried talking to our parents but they, my mother especially, had made up their minds. Magic—"

Alisa blew out a breath.

"Magic was corrupting and evil. It was disgusting and did nothing but harm. They had seen the utter wreck Aunt Maria's possessed magic had cut through their kingdom. They wouldn't change their mind. Their hatred for it only grew and grew aided by the nightmares my mother has every night, and soon, they began to build up theories of what magic-users are and how they should be treated. When a trying-to-please blacksmith presented them with the first magic-restraining weapon, they immediately latched onto it and demanded more."

Alisa looked up at all of them. "Harden used to hate magic before. Then something changed a few decades ago and it embraced it. And now, because of a tyrant king, it's back to not only trapping magic but torturing it."

Merlin listened to the story in silence. Too many connections popped out in his head, Freya and how she couldn't help but kill people, Uther and how his narrow-mindedness drove away magic, how his grief made him turn against it, how both the kingdoms' princes were the only salvation. It hurt him. It hurt something deep inside him.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

She looked at him, eyes flitting over his battered body. "So am I. Truly."

"It's neither of your faults," Morgana said hotly. "The fault lies to Uther, Lia, Aldous and the king as well as his son. Not Maria, not Merlin, not Arthur, not you."

Alisa smiled sadly, then turned to Merlin. "You have good friends," she said. "Friends I would kill to have. They love you."

Despite what he did and displayed, "They do."

"Don't ever let them go."

"I don't plan to," Merlin promised.

Gwen nudged his shoulder playfully. Merlin smiled back.

Alisa was right. He really had hit a score. How many people would go to such far lengths for a single person? Risking themselves and their lives for them? Devising a plan for escape? Arthur, Gwen and Morgana were like no other, especially since he had lied to them all this time.

Arthur regarded Alisa carefully.

"Can you free Merlin from his cuffs and collar too?" He asked her. "If you get the key for it, I think we can devise an escape plan."

Merlin's stomach lurched with an uneasy hope at escape plan.

Alisa looked tortured as she said, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Why not?" Arthur suddenly yelled, jumping up. Morgana, Gwen and Gaius got up with him, looking worried.

Alisa stood up too, still shaking her head. "I don't have the keys to the restraints. My parents keep them under a very tight lock and even my brother isn't allowed to handle them directly himself and he's Prince Regent. All because he helped one of the sorcerers escape last year. It's one of their trusted chancellors who manages them."

"You can at least sneak into their rooms and search!" Gwen implored.

Alisa shook her head again. "I can't. I'm scared."

"What?" Arthur roared. "You would let a boy be tortured because you're scared?!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I fear my own parents!" Alisa snapped. "Every day I have to wonder if their madness will turn on me instead. My brother was publicly whipped for three days just because he dared to feed the sorcerers. What do you think will happen to me if they catch me freeing, not only a sorcerer, but one they found in another kingdom where they're trying to build relations through it."

Arthur froze and turned cold.

"Him," he said. "Not it. Never it."

Merlin's eyes watered with tears just as Alisa's did.

"I'm sorry," Alisa whispered to Merlin. "I failed Aunt Maria, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I can't. I'm sorry. I'm too afraid." She wiped her eyes. "I've seen the worst horrors of the world through Aunt Maria's magic and my parents' beliefs. I don't want to experience them myself. I'm sorry."

She opened the currently unlocked gate of the cell and stepped outside, still shaking her head.

Just before she closed it, Morgana told her, "I know how you feel."

Alisa stopped.

"I too have to live under my guardian's nose, knowing that he will turn on me in an instant if he knew what I was."

Alisa cast her eyes on her.

Morgana nodded in understanding. "I'm scared too."

Arthur turned away from her, crossing his arms and facing the wall, jaw clenched in bitter fury, but it had softened after Morgana's admission. Gwen flicked her gaze between the two of them, worrying her lip between her teeth. Gaius, so far, had been a quiet spectator and seemed content to continue observing.

Alisa then shifted her eyes to Merlin who was still on the ground, too exhausted and in pain to stand without heavy support.

"Don't use your magic," she said. "No matter how tempting it may be. I've seen too many of you die after being cut by the dagger. Using magic only makes it flare up and kill you from the inside." With that, she fled away from the dungeons.

The air was hostile for a few moments, it weighed heavily over Merlin. He hated it.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," he told Arthur. "She did help us with all this after all."

Arthur didn't respond, continuing to brood.

Merlin sighed and shifted his limbs, them having grown stiff from how long he was in the same position.

As soon as he moved his leg, the deep gash on it jolted and Merlin cried out, clutching the wall and shaking as he rode out the pain.

All of a sudden, his cuts and wounds attacked him again. His chest especially hurt, having the deepest stab wound present there. His hands were trembling as he caught the wall frailly, the cuffs and their metal spikes blaring with pain to let themselves be known, his left hand especially, where Aldous had twisted it so it had torn his wrist through a full inch. His throat throbbed again at the scratchy dryness and the lingering aftertaste of the vomit he had puked after chewing the leaves. His neck also had been chafed by the collar, after wearing it for so long and having it rub against his skin by the leash and the shaking Lia and Aldous had done.

His clothes were ripped and slashed, red and black cuts peeping through the holes, some of them still oozing drops of dark, gooey and thick blood that was able to get through the thin scabs and take the weakest scabs with it. He could feel dried, papery and flaky scarlet stick to his skin from where it had dripped down from the slashes and cuts. The most irritating, scratchy and uncomfortable of the places being his armpits, thighs, back of his neck and his behind. There was the same crimson ichor in his hair too, despite the gentle stroking Gwen had done before. And sweat sheened and encased his whole body, making everything itch, especially the parts where there was dried blood.

He didn't smell good either. Stinking heavily of the nauseating sweet smell of blood and the sour-tangy heavy reek of sweat. Not to mention the number of unknown hours he spent in the dungeons, absorbing the rusty, murky, damp and foul smells wafting from every space available.

Merlin stayed stuck to the wall as he tried to calm himself down from the flares and stings of excruciating agony.

When he could finally open his eyes, he saw four worried faces staring at him.

He ignored three to look at his mentor and teacher. "I think we need to exchange notes."

Gaius nodded, sliding easily into his role of physician. "We brought two buckets of water, they must still be warm now because I enchanted them."

Merlin blinked in surprise.

"We have that as well as clean washcloths and bandages. I have my medicine bag with me to treat your wounds. If the ladies would be so willing as to fetch some food while giving us gents some privacy to clean up?"

"Of course." Morgana flashed Merlin one of her sweet smiles before standing up to leave.

Gwen beamed at Merlin too before scurrying off alongside her mistress.

Once they were gone, Gaius dipped the washcloth and pressed it gently against his face.

Merlin sighed as the warmth seeped into his skin. It was like sitting on top of a cloud if truth be told.

Gaius rubbed Merlin's cheek with the heavenly warm cloth, cleaning the leftover gunk of Aldous's boot on his face when the dirtbag stepped on him to get him to lap up the water. Merlin hissed when Gaius touched a forming bruise. He cleaned the rest of his face gently, taking extra care of the cuts.

Gaius then asked Arthur to help Merlin out of his shirt while he prepared the sterile bandages and salves.

Arthur nodded and knelt next to Merlin.

Merlin, who was still leaning completely against the wall, lifted an eyebrow in challenge at Arthur.

Arthur huffed. "How hard can it be? You undress me all the time."

Merlin bit down laughter and untied his belt to let the prince pull off his shirt.

All jokes aside, when Merlin usually helped dress and undress Arthur, the man wasn't covered in bruises and cuts with bits of cloth sticking inside the wounds, glued to skin with blood. So every time Arthur even gently pulled a part of the tunic, Merlin gasped or yelped in pain, jostling away even if he tried not to.

They slowly and painstakingly moved in the process of getting his blue-turned-red-and-black tunic over his head using water to loosen it up, with Gaius joining halfway, especially with his back. When they got to the stab in his chest, Merlin knew he couldn't do it.

"No no no no no, stop, please, wait."

Arthur dropped the cloth.

Merlin stretched his neck to look at it. There was an obvious hole in his chest, not too deep to hurt any of his organs, but there. Gaping and glaring at anyone who dared to touch it. His shirt was stuck all around the hole, the blood of different shades dried over and hewed.

"I can't do this," Merlin said fearfully. "I can't do this. Gaius, why does it hurt so much now? Why wasn't it before while I was— in there."

Gaius sighed as he sat back. "You were going through something called dissociation. When you were in there, the things that were happening to you and your body were too much for your brain to handle at that time, so it shut down partially. Whatever pain you felt wasn't the full extent of it thanks to your brain looking out for you."

"So it's much worse now because I'm not dissociating?"

"Exactly."

Merlin groaned, leaning back against the wall. "Why can't I dissociate forever?"

Gaius didn't answer. He picked up the wet washcloth to squeeze the water over Merlin's wound, but Merlin squirmed away again.

"Wait wait wait wait, please. Please."

"Merlin."

"I can't do this."

"Merlin."

"I can't, I can't! It hurts too much and I'm— I'm scared."

Gaius's face softened as he put down the washcloth.

Arthur nudged his knee and waited until he was looking at him. "You can," he said simply.

"But—"

"Trust me."

Merlin stopped. He gazed at Arthur, the man who had accepted his magic despite his elders saying otherwise and the man who was currently taking care of his own servant, more accurately described as a slave these current days.

He hadn't trusted Arthur before. Not with his magic. Not with Freya. Not with a great many things.

But he did now. He unequivocally, completely, and fully trusted Arthur.

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, Merlin nodded.

Gaius lightly dabbed with the washcloth and the wound hissed, making him tense his back just like the other cuts and gashes did. But because of the hole part, Merlin arched, head almost colliding hard against the wall until Arthur cushioned it with his palm.

Merlin opened his mouth in a silent scream, a small, high-pitched pained squeak escaping instead. He felt Arthur's other hand holding his shoulder and he sought it out, squeezing it tightly as Gaius worked on removing the shirt. If his grip was too tight, Arthur didn't complain.

Merlin patiently went through the process. After the material was freed from the other three cuts, the shirt finally came off.

Merlin slumped against the wall, head lolling in exhaustion.

"You can't sleep now, Merlin." Gaius prodded at him. "We won't be able to finish cleaning you up and feeding you before morning then. Arthur, could you fetch some more water? Go to the servants' laundry room and ask for three more pails. Tell them you'll carry it yourself."

Merlin groaned and sat up straighter. Arthur's hand was still on his shoulder and his eyes were on the large circular burn mark on his chest.

Merlin didn't offer an explanation. Arthur didn't ask for one.

He finally tore his eyes away from it and looked up at him instead. Okay? his concerned eyes asked. Merlin nodded dazedly, giving a poor smile.

Arthur squeezed his shoulder and got up to fetch the water.

Gaius started properly cleaning his cuts, while simultaneously washing his body, starting with the stab wound.

It wasn't the first time, Merlin realized. Gaius treated every wound Merlin showed him or didn't hide well enough. The poor mimicry and contrast hurt something deep inside his heart. From the nights spent in the safety of his guardian's chambers with lit candles and happy smells to the cuddy and dim space of the dungeons with only two torches, one inside and one outside the cell for light.

He missed the space of the physician's chambers, surrounded by knick-knacks of all kinds and various vials, bottles and experiments littered across the tables and shelves. Candles always burned low to their plates and books could always be spotted here and there, open to different pages ranging from anatomy to chemicals.

He missed all of that, but he missed his room even more. Haphazard, scattered and clumsy—just like him, Arthur loved to say. Clothes, books, parchments, ink, half-eaten food, herbs and materials that were required for some of his chores like a sharpening stone or a brush were jumbled across his entire room. And he loved it that way.

He loved the loose floorboard under his bed. The one that hid his book of magic, his Sidhe scepter, and other magical artifacts and souvenirs he had collected overtime, saving Arthur's life.

He missed his room, he missed his home, he missed his routine, he missed Gaius tending to superficial wounds, not results of torture.

It wasn't the first time Gaius was treating his wounds, he knew, but it may as well be his last.

"Gaius," Merlin said as the old physician was now quickly working on his back, having treated his whole chest and abdomen.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"Thank you. For everything." He winced when the salve touched the next cut. "Thank you for taking me in," he continued. "For being my mentor. My father. For keeping the promise to my mother. Thank you for guh— guiding me. I— I love you more than I can say."

Gaius stopped and shuffled forward so he could hit Merlin with the full force of his Raised Eyebrow. "I hope that isn't a goodbye note, Merlin."

Merlin didn't say anything, because it was.

Gaius's lips downturned. "I'm not letting you die, Merlin." He went back to treating his back. "And that is a fact."

Merlin sighed. Denial was a bitch sometimes.

Gaius treated his neck as much as he could with what little space the collar gave him. He carefully tended to his cuffed wrists, but no amount of care stopped Merlin from screaming when he touched his left wrist.

"Bite down on this." Gaius handed him a wad of cloth with a slightly tremoring hand.

Merlin stuffed it into his mouth and screamed and screamed into it until Gaius was finally done.

When he was, his mentor brought his arms around him and held him as Merlin sobbed into his shoulder while Gaius's own tears snaked into his hair.

A few moments later, when Merlin had sobered some more, Arthur came back with a bucket in each hand. He gave a quick encouraging smile to Merlin when the boy yelped as Gaius poked his collarbone, before rushing out again to fetch the other pail of water.

"I don't think I've ever seen Arthur work this hard before," Merlin commented, watching the prince run back out.

Gaius clicked his tongue, partly in chastisem*nt and partly in good humor. "He cares for you. He will do anything for you. We all will."

Merlin's face stretched into a wide grin, ignorant of the stinging lines of red on it. "He accepted my magic," he said happily.

Gaius raised an eyebrow again but smiled. "Under austere circ*mstances, but yes, my boy. That he did."

"Always the pessimist, Gaius."

Arthur came back with the last bucket and put his hands on his hips. "See, Merlin? I can do hard work."

Merlin and Gaius exchanged a glance, then burst into laughter.

Arthur looked lost. "What?"

After Merlin's top was done cleaning, salving, and bandaging, it was time for his legs to receive the treatment since they hadn't been spared either.

He took off his boots and socks first since that was the easiest, then they got to his trousers.

Tremors shook his legs, even while sitting idly, but as soon as his trousers reached the deep gash on his thigh, they became more violent.

Arthur silently offered his hand on his shoulder and Merlin wordlessly clutched it like a lifeline, squeezing his eyes shut. He buried his face into the older boy's shoulder too while biting down on the wad of cloth again.

Gaius was as gentle and precise as ever, but that still didn't stop his leg from jerking as he dabbed it with a wet washcloth.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Gaius said apologetically. "Arthur, can you hold his leg in place?"

Arthur didn't free the hand Merlin was clutching, he placed a gentle but firm knee on Merlin's shin, then pushed down his knee with his hand.

Gaius tried again and Merlin hiccuped with pain.

When his trousers finally unstuck from the wound, Merlin's whole body started shivering again. "F— Fever," he said through clacking teeth after spitting out the wad of cloth. He couldn't believe he had forgotten to alert them about such an obvious diagnosis. He really needed more physician training than he thought.

"Ah." Gaius reached into his medicine bag and held out a phial. "Take this. I don't want to give you theriac just yet. That will be useful for when you have to sleep. But for now, a little henbane will do."

Merlin nodded and glugged the phial in one go, the bitter taste making him cough.

Arthur quickly reached over to a forgotten waterskin. "I can't believe we forgot!" he said with embarrassment. "I can't believe we forgot to give you… water." Arthur stopped.

Merlin did too.

Face on the floor, the dirty underside of the boot on his cheek, water on his tongue—

Merlin shook his head thoroughly, pushing out the memory and reached out to grab the skin from Arthur. Ignoring both Gaius's and Arthur's eyes on him, he took long swigs of the heavenly liquid, not stopping even when some of it spilled over him.

He paused, wiping his mouth, before taking one more sip and closing it.

He put it down and tapped his chin, humming as if intrigued. "I'd say… definitely better than the floor, yes. The lack of floor is a key part of its freshness."

That broke the ice and Gaius sighed disappointedly and Arthur rolled his eyes, flicking his forehead lightly.

"Too soon?" Merlin grinned.

They got his trousers off and while Gaius tended to the deepest gash, Arthur cleaned and bandaged his cuts under Gaius's instruction. Merlin did too, getting restless while sitting idly and nearly falling asleep. Arthur started to object when Merlin started cleaning his own cut, but he promptly ignored him and continued to apply salve and then bandage it. He was still a physician's apprentice, he could do things for himself. So Arthur took to rubbing the grime and blood off his hair instead. Just like the countless times Merlin did for him after a hunt or a mission.

When it was finally done and his whole body was covered in bandages, Arthur and Gaius sat back and nodded with satisfaction.

Merlin looked down at himself. His arms, legs, chest and abdomen were shrouded in clean bandages. The dirt and grime was also washed off his body and sitting in a puddle under him. The smell of blood still lingered in the air, but not as strongly on Merlin.

He had never felt this fresh and clean before. Even before the Hardens came and ruined everything. There was something about getting the filthiest you could possibly get and then washing it all away that instigated an aura of cleanliness never before experienced.

Arthur and Gaius stepped out of the cell to give Merlin some privacy while he took off his undergarments to wash and clean himself. After he was done, he called them back and was surprised to see Arthur holding a new pair of tunic, trousers and neckerchief.

"What's that?"

"Clothes," Arthur deadpanned.

"But… but what about…" He pointed at his soiled and torn ones.

Arthur snorted. "Sorry, Merlin. I may be a prince but I'm not letting you put on those flimsy pieces of rags." Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur barreled over him. "And I will fight for your right to hygiene, food and treatment if needed." Arthur entered and slammed the cell door behind Gaius. "I didn't try hard enough before, but I'm going to tear the Hardens and my father down now."

Merlin swallowed and looked down at his toes. "I just don't want you all hurt because of me," he whispered.

Arthur melted. "Despite what the Hardens say, Merlin, we are not your— your "attachments"," he air-quoted. "We're your friends. Real friends."

Merlin looked up and smiled. "You went through my closet then?" he changed the subject.

Arthur snorted. "It's messier than mine and you arranged both."

"So at least you know I tried."

They helped him into his clothes. Since his limbs were shaky and weak, Arthur and Gaius had to help move them into the sleeves and pant legs.

"What's with the neckerchief?" Merlin jerked his head at the piece of cloth Arthur was holding and was overjoyed to see him flush red.

"You said something about your mother sending you a new one and you hadn't found a chance to wear it," Arthur mumbled. "In one of your annoying ramblings."

Merlin grinned widely. "Arthur, I mentioned that a week ago."

"Shut up and just take it." He thrust it out as if it disgusted him.

Merlin was still grinning when he took the purple-dyed cloth.

He raised it to put it on. His knuckles brushed against the collar and his grin slipped off.

Touch your collar. Feel it.

That's yours. Just for you.

It means you belong to someone. It means you listen. It means you obey.

Merlin dropped his neckerchief and touched his collar with trembling fingers. He touched the leash too, the metal chain dangling by his side. All of a sudden, he remembered that he wasn’t considered human at all.

He was a possession. A plaything. A plaything that had just been cleaned and dressed up.

Merlin teared up, still touching his collar and leash.

Gaius approached him. He gently moved his hands away from the metal band and the metal chain. He stooped to pick up the neckerchief and tie it on top of his collar, hiding it.

"Your mother made it just for you," he said. "She bought the cloth, the thread and the needle, used her time to sew it in the way you like it, still remembering your measurements, then spent money to send it off to you." He finished tying it and looked at him in the eyes. "Tell me you can't feel her love in this, Merlin, because I can."

Merlin sniffed and wiped his damp cheeks. He touched his neckerchief and held onto it, remembering his mother and her gentleness, her ferocity when needed, her bravery, how she loved hard work, and especially, how brightly her eyes twinkled with love every time she looked at him.

He nodded, capturing her smiling face in his memory and recording it forever.

Gaius returned the expression, eyes sad but fond as he gently touched his cheek. “Let’s call Guinevere and Morgana back,” Gaius told Arthur.

Arthur nodded. Shooting an indescribable look at Merlin, he left.

When they arrived, they came with baskets of food. The delicious aroma from it wafted towards Merlin and he slumped against the wall, folding his arms to keep from clutching his famished and rumbling stomach.

“Merlin!” Morgana exclaimed delightedly. “You look much better! More like yourself.”

Merlin smiled shyly at her, fully aware of the collar, leash and cuffs still on him, but she was right. He had a change of clothes, bandages to tie his wounds, and a gentler version of a bath to rub off the sweat and gunk. Strange how in just two days those things became privileges to Merlin when before they were just routine.

Lost in thought, Merlin had almost missed Gaius doing his magic.

“Clǣnsa,” Gaius said and the wet, bloodied floor of the cell vanished replaced with clean stone.

What stunned Merlin even more was when the others, including Gwen and Arthur, accepted it and sat down without flinching to lay out the food. He stared as Arthur and Gwen casually announced that there was more food to bring and left while Gaius and Morgana continued laying out the spread.

A twinge struck his chest. They were trying. For his sake, they were trying their best to accept magic.

He slid down to the ground and the other two shuffled the baskets closer to him so he could lean on the wall if he couldn’t sit up for long without support.

While they waited for the other two, Morgana chattered about how the whole castle was now probably flooded with rumors about the king’s ward developing a stress-eating gluttonous habit, but that she didn’t mind in the least as food was food. Besides, she would do anything for Merlin. Even put up with the stares directed towards her during feasts.

“I mean, it’s not like I don’t already get stares,” Morgana said with a roll of her eyes. “The amount of pervs that are present among the nobles, honestly.”

“You do love putting them in their places though,” Merlin said, his voice quiet and subdued with exhaustion, but the hint of teasing still present.

“Of course,” Morgana said matter-of-factly. “I’m not going to sit by and let tyrants and fools go their course and have their way.”

“No, you don’t.” Merlin smiled, resting his head on his curled knuckles with his elbows on his knees despite the throbs of his wounds. “You’re strong. The strongest person I know.”

Morgana smiled at him. A small, sad flash of gold zipped past her eyes and she stared at him with sorrow. “Merlin?” she whispered, even though Gaius was busy muttering curses as he cleared up the bloody rags. “You— you’re not— don’t—”

Merlin tilted his head curiously.

She let out a small huff, then shook her head. “You’re not going to die,” she said. “No matter what I s— what anyone says, you’re not going to die. Okay?”

Merlin’s brows creased in polite confusion. But just then, Arthur and Gwen arrived.

With grins, they spread out the fare of bread, cheese, meat, fruit, berries and cakes. Merlin gaped.

Morgana raised her nose hoitily, daring him to comment, but Merlin just smiled and gave a grateful nod.

As soon as he got his plate, he set about inhaling his food.

"Merlin!" Gaius warned. "You will throw it all back up. If you don't slow down, we'll have to feed you instead."

Arthur, Gwen and Morgana snigg*red and Merlin scowled.

He did take care to eat slower after that, though he really couldn't help the pace at times. So Gwen repeatedly nudged him when he was going too fast to remind him to go easy.

As he ate, he felt his strength return to him more and more. Not just physically, but magically. His magic had been ripped, beaten, twisted and abused so much, that it was almost like it had developed a fear of its own. Food helped with that. It helped infuse some color into his cheeks, clear away some of his light-headedness, and give him the strength to move around more. It also helped with the pain.

Just then, Merlin realized that he was being ogled at.

He looked up to see four faces goggling at him.

Merlin blinked.

"Are you… okay, Merlin?" Gwen asked.

"Yes…? As okay as I can be under circ*mstances."

"Merlin—" Arthur fiddled nervously with his ring. "Merlin, look at me please."

Merlin tilted his head curiously as the prince shuffled closer.

"I want you," Arthur said slowly, "to completely and fully know this. Okay? You," he pointed at his chest, "were forced to do all that. You were forced to— to— to lick the water off the floor."

Merlin shuddered.

"You were forced to lick his f*cking boots. You were forced to say that you were only pretending to be human. You were forced to say that you didn't deserve kindness and only punishment and pain. You did not willingly do that, do you hear me?" His voice softened. "Do you hear me, my friend?"

His eyes grew round and wide. "Yes."

"You were forced to apologize and use titles too," Morgana added. "So please go back to insulting my stupid somewhat-brother and deflating his high-soaring ego."

Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin grinned. "Of course," he said solemnly. "I won't let the prat out without making sure he knows he's an ass."

Arthur lightly smacked his head.

For that, Merlin added, "And a fat one."

Morgana snorted and doubled down with laughter as Gaius gave a heavy sigh, remembering all his rants about Arthur gorging himself during feasts.

Gwen squeezed Arthur's hand, though she too seemed to be holding back laughter.

Merlin beamed. He felt so good, so happy, so at ease in the presence of their normal banter. It made his heart soar.

Too bad it wasn't going to last.

The iron-metal collar was still attached to his neck. The metal chain leash was still hanging from the back of his neck. The spiked iron cuffs were still pierced into his flesh, twinging with every move. The muzzle he had on before was still in the corner of the cell. The smoke and potion still messed with his magic. And the cuts still burned tirelessly.

"I have to go back tomorrow, don't I?" he asked quietly, looking down at the apple in his hand.

"No." Arthur and Morgana said defiantly at the same time.

"I will fight if I have to, I'm not going to let you be tortured and mocked again," Arthur promised. But Merlin knew it was hopeless.

He took a deep breath. "If I die—"

Protests immediately filled the air, but Merlin continued over them.

"If I die, please tell my mother that she is and will always be the best mother in all the Five Kingdoms. Tell her that I'm grateful for her. Tell her that I love her and I wouldn't wish for anything to change and that whatever happened wasn't her fault in the least."

"Merlin—"

"Tell Lancelot too. Tell him that he is still the best, most loyal and noble person I have ever had the privilege to meet. Tell him that I'm truly happy that I got to know him. Tell him that I know he's going to be a knight one day and I'm sorry I'm not there in person to see it happen."

"Merlin," Gwen reprimanded. "Stop, you're not going to die."

He smiled. "I will miss you too. All of you. I'm sorry I can't see you all grow into—"

"Stop," Arthur ordered quakily. "Stop. For the love of God, please stop."

Merlin did.

"Don't." Arthur shook his head. "Don't talk about your death, don't. Please."

Merlin squirmed. He wasn't used to Arthur begging. It was unnatural. Wrong.

"What do I talk about then?"

Arthur blew out a shaky breath. "Before… Before, you said that there was so much I don't know."

Merlin remembered. It was when Arthur had visited his cell the first time. Right before he was brought into court. It seemed like an eon ago.

"Well, tell me now, Merlin. I want to know. I want to know everything you've done these past two years."

That… that Merlin could do.

"Water first," he croaked and a waterskin was immediately handed to him. He took a long gulp, thinking of where to start, then put it down and sighed.

"Has Gaius told you about the prophecy yet?"

All three of them nodded.

"The prophecy of the Once and Future King and Emrys. My destiny." Merlin smiled bitterly. Fat load of good his destiny had done to him now. "I'm supposed to protect you as Emrys so you can bring about a new age. That wasn't the reason I stuck beside you though," he said hurriedly. "Perhaps before, but later I stayed because of friendship. Real friendship. Not— not attachments like the Hardens said, I—"

"Merlin," Arthur said. "We know. Calm down."

"The Hardens are the grime you find in the gutter, Merlin." Morgana flicked her hair back. "You will not find a single grain of sense or sanity in their words. Ever."

"I agree with that, my lady." Gwen nodded fiercely.

Merlin chuckled. "I'll drink to that." He went back to the story. "The first time I heard about the prophecy was from a dragon."

"A dragon?" Arthur spluttered. Even Morgana and Gwen had their jaws wide open.

Merlin exchanged a humorous look with Gaius.

"Yeah. There's a dragon chained underneath the castle."

And so he told them. Of every adventure, every secret, every instance where he saved Arthur's or Gwen's or Morgana's lives, and even the situations he had mucked up in. No one was perfect.

But some stories, he kept to himself. Like Freya, and the one where he had accidentally turned someone into a fly. The former was personal and the latter was just plain embarrassing.

They laughed, gasped, cried and teased him with every one.

The atmosphere between them was so light-hearted and serene, Merlin could almost believe that they weren't in his cell, that the Hardens had never existed, and everything was well and he wasn't in pain.

“What spells can you do?” Morgana suddenly asked.

Merlin laughed as he thought. “The first spell I did when I came to Camelot was freeze time.”

“WHAT?” The three of them shrieked while Gaius laughed along with him.

“He saved my life,” Gaius said. “Gave me a heart attack at the same time too.”

“I can do simple things too. Make beds, polish armor and boots, and have the sword sharpened in the blink of an eye.”

Arthur pouted. “That’s cheating.”

Merlin smirked. “Stretch ropes, move objects in people’s way, make them trip.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in realization and he jumped up, pointing a finger at him. “The fight in the market! You cheated!”

Merlin laughed. “Yeah. you were gonna lob my head off.”

“I knew there was something wrong that day!”

Morgana was cackling alongside a giggling Gwen as Arthur sat back down slowly.

“I can get statues to come to life,” Merlin continued. “Light candles, summon objects, including lightning bolts actually.”

Arthur’s eyebrows jumped up.

“That was to save Gaius’s life too. I can do lots of stuff, but I can’t create strawberries.” He smiled sadly. Remembering what he told Freya, he said, “Magic, it’s… it’s beautiful. Like nothing you’ve ever seen. It can be used for death and destruction, yes, but that’s what power does. It’s what you do with that power that matters.”

Merlin looked around at them.

Lancelot knew. Freya knew too. “Magic’s beautiful and special. No matter what the Hardens say.” They were wrong, too invested in hate.

"I wish I could see your magic," Arthur said softly. "I’ve only seen it used to hurt. I wish I could see the beauty you mention it has."

"Yeah." Merlin sighed. "I wish it too."

-----------------------------------------------

When they left, Merlin went to sleep with a concoction of theriac in his stomach.

But when he woke up, it was to the feeling of flames licking his body.

He screamed and screamed but no one came.

Praying that this was all a dream, he hugged himself and rocked his body, shaking with agony. He dimly wondered if he had been set to the pyre already.

But no, he was mobile, he was sitting on a cold, hard floor, and he was shivering. He was pretty sure people didn't shiver if they were being burnt alive.

After long excrutiating minutes, the pain started to subside.

Merlin slumped as the last of the pain lowered to what its original agony was.

Gaius had explained that his magic was still up and kicking, healing his body and keeping him from dying of blood loss. Because he was a warlock, he couldn't control what his magic did on the inside as much as he could control what his organs did. His magic wanted to heal, so it healed. Unfortunately, the cuts that were meant to burn every time he used magic did their job, and they did it well. So Merlin was in a state of constant agony that even theriac couldn't help.

He breathed heavily and crawled forward to the bars of his cell to peer at another cell a few feet away from him. It had a window and in the pitch-black darkness, if he concentrated especially hard, he could make out whether the sun had risen.

Right now, there was a faint yellow light shining on the wall in the distance. Morning must have just arrived then.

They had brought him up around afternoon the past two days, probably after a hearty meal where they gorged themselves thick before beating him up.

If this was the brilliant destiny the Dragon would have mentioned when they met, Merlin would have hightailed back to Ealdor, packed his bags there, and then traveled further away from Camelot with his mother. He wasn't taking this torture for anything.

Anything…

Not… anyone.

For Arthur, Gaius, Morgana and Gwen, Merlin would live twenty more days like this till he dropped dead. For them, Merlin would stay. He had stayed. It was why he was here now.

If he died… and they died along with him… what would be the whole point of his life, never mind just destiny?

He couldn't let them die. He had to— he had to somehow get them away from here. Before Uther lost his mind like Lia and Aldous and started whipping his own children too until he killed them.

He had already abandoned his morals in favor of torturing him. Even after that thank you when Merlin stopped Arthur from committing patricide. Maybe he should have just let the prince run his sword through Uther's sordid body.

But no. Arthur would have been devastated. It would have broken him. He hadn't been ready to be king just then anyway. He was too young, too naïve, too boyish.

He wasn't now though. These past two days had changed him. Merlin could see it in his words and actions last night and the night before. The prince had changed. Done a whole spin and came out more considerate, respectful and careful. He wasn't brash and confused like before. With a couple more months, he would be a good king. A great king.

He had Gaius to help him make wise decisions. Morgana to help him remember his heart. He had Gwen to remind him of all of what was good and her intelligence and quick mind to help him with matters of the kingdom.

And… he had had Merlin. To jumpstart his progress from the overconfident and prattish prince to a king who took good care of his peoples. All his peoples. Even sorcerers.

He wasn't going to let the Hardens and Uther ruin that. He wasn't going to let them take away his friends' destinies. He wasn't going to let them take away their lives.

To do that, he had to keep them from getting into trouble.

To do that, he had to tear out his bandages.

To do that, it would hurt. A lot. But he already said he was happy to live twenty and more days of torture for them. This was just Day Three.

He couldn't do anything about his clothes. Hopefully, the Hardens and Uther were too engrossed in his screams to notice that he had a change of clothes. As for the muzzle… it was still laying in the corner, happily forgotten. He wasn't going to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

But the guards would. They didn't even need a pole to fit it back on his face.

Merlin flinched violently at the thought.

Right now, he needed to concentrate on bandages.

He took off his tunic with only some difficulty. He sighed mournfully at the comfort of Gaius's expert skill and Arthur's rare moments of care. Then he grabbed the bandages and ripped.

He clenched his teeth, whimpers and grunts of hhhngh following every yank and tear of the bandages.

Some of his cuts started bleeding again. He mopped as much blood as he could with the bandage cloth, then stuffed them all into the empty toilet bucket.

He did the same with his legs.

He knew Gaius, Arthur and the others were going to be unhappy and disappointed with him, but better that than dead. If what Alisa said was true, the Hardens would stop at nothing to find and make the people who kept him alive and torture them too.

The deed done, Merlin caught his breath and leaned against the walls, sitting in the corner of the cell. His skin and muscles burned and ached. He gasped and panted, resting from the flair he had just done.

It wasn't the first time he had sacrificed something for his friends' sake. And no matter how long he had left to live, this particular one wouldn't be his last.

He recalled the stories of the adventures he had told Arthur, Gwen and Morgana. Things he had done in their name, but also in the name of Destiny. With a capital D.

Lia and Aldous were right about one thing. He was a pawn. A plaything. In the course of Destiny trying to get him to do its work through him, he had let himself be played and knocked about.

But somehow, in the midst of all that, he made friends and a family. They were as real to him as he was to them, despite what anyone else said or argued.

He had been given life, but this life now was his to spend.

And he had spent it well.

He had—

Wait.

Merlin froze.

Destinies are fickle things, Merlin. You've been doing everything right so far. Perhaps fate has a plan not yet revealed to us, a plan that will let destiny pass.

I thought you might rejoice, young warlock. The shift—it is a signal that the time of Albion is nearly upon us.

Pawn, a shift, secrets, the Hardens, Camelot, Arthur, a prince ready to be king…

Merlin laughed. "Holy sh*t," he announced. "The Dragon was actually right."

-----------------------------------------------

Merlin slept soundly after that.

He was woken up in the afternoon (as he had predicted) and the guards were furious to see that he had somehow got his muzzle off. So they kicked him around, opening some more of his cuts and gashes, and forced the muzzle back on tighter than before (which he had also predicted. The muzzle part, not the beating part. Although, he really should have expected it).

This time, Merlin was walked through the castle by his leash. He acquired a limp from when one of the guards had purposefully stepped on his shin. That, combined with the deep gash on his thigh, rendered him unable to walk for long periods of time. Halfway to the courtroom, he collapsed on the floor.

One of the guards kicked him on his side, shouting at him to get up. But Merlin physically couldn't.

The guard raged and kicked. Merlin bit down on his lip.

Screaming in pain in the face of Aldous and Lia's weapons and torture instruments was better than screaming because an ugly guard's foot hit him.

The other guard spit on him, the gob landing on part of his ear and neck. Merlin flinched and clenched his fists on his sleeves tighter, not daring to move his arm to wipe it away lest they complained to the Hardens and they made him do something even more humiliating and dehumanizing.

"Stop!"

The guards did before they could attack Merlin again.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Merlin recognized the voice as Sir Leon's. One of the knights who had always been kind to him. Especially after he tried to stop Merlin from entering the courtroom while Arthur was fighting his father after Morgause’s reveal about Ygraine, but had eventually let him go to stop them. He knew he had gained the knight's respect then. Right now, it was a blessing to hear his voice.

"We are under orders to bring the sorcerer to the courtroom, Sir Knight," the guard who had kicked him said.

Leon's face was twisted in anger and disgust. Emotions which the guards thought was directed to Merlin.

"Well," Leon said. "I guess I'll have to go to the king."

The guards nodded eagerly.

"And tell him that you ignored his orders in favor of beating and spitting on a poor, defenseless boy."

The guards' faces transformed into surprise. "But Sir Knight, it's not a boy—"

"I stand by what I said," Leon growled threateningly, hand on the pommel of his sword.

The guards bowed their heads. One of them picked up the leash.

"You will clean your revolting spit from him and you will take him to the courtroom by picking him up. Not dragging him across the floor with the— the chain."

Merlin's heart squeezed with warmth. If Arthur didn't make him First Knight, Merlin would kill the prat.

Although, if Arthur was here to see this exchange, he would either propose or grant Leon the title of a lord with his own land on top of making him a First Knight.

The guard used the sleeve of his jacket to rub away his own spit, wiping the jacket sleeve on his chainmail. Then the two hoisted him up by his arms.

"Hold him by his armpits, not his arms," Leon instructed.

The guards obliged. Merlin was thankful for that too. His arms might have just come out of his sockets if they dragged him all the way to the courtroom that way.

Merlin knew Leon hadn't opted to stay and watch the proceedings of his torture after the first day, the man looked consumed with guilt when he glanced at him. “Watch yourself,” he told Merlin, shifting on his feet. “Don’t give up.”

Merlin gave him a grateful smile, mouthing an earnest thank you as he was dragged past.

The knight acknowledged it with a small smile of his own and a nod of his head. Every little kindness counted.

They arrived at the courtroom and Merlin was promptly thrown on the floor, only just managing to get his hands under him so he didn't painfully collide against stone.

His arms shook under him before they gave and he collapsed anyway. If this was his state, Merlin didn't know how long he was going to survive for.

He found his friends sitting or standing in the same positions as before. He tried catching their eyes, but none of them looked at him.

Merlin understood, he did. He had torn out his bandages, undid their work, looking ragged and bruised once more, and had the muzzle back on again. If he was in their place, he wouldn't want to look at him either.

Uther had the same monotone expression as he watched Merlin slowly and painfully sit up. Lia drummed her fingers on her elbow as she watched with crossed arms. Aldous stood at the very front of the platform, looking around at the room.

"So," Aldous smiled brightly, addressing his own court along with Uther's. "King Uther and I have made excellent progress on building relations with our kingdom. Hours upon hours of negotiation, plans and diplomatic talks have taken place in the royal council room. We have come to the conclusion that the decisions we have made so far have been undoubtedly profitable and flawless."

Yeah. Torturing him.

He glimpsed at Alisa and saw the princess hanging her head in shame.

"We have decided to showcase all the magic-restraining resources we have brought, which will take three more days to demonstrate. Granted, of course, if the sorcerer hasn't died yet."

Merlin juddered. How they were able to talk so casually about taking a life standing in front of them through the worst means possible, he would never understand.

"Tomorrow, we show the ones we use for dismemberment—"

Wait, what? Merlin made a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a squeak.

"Today, we showcase what we use to seal their obedience."

Like a collar, leash and muzzle weren't enough?

Trembles started to rock his body again, visible enough for everyone to see. Lia grinned in delight.

Aldous called forth a servant who carried a whip that glowed red. As it was brought closer to him, he could see that the red was from the runes.

Merlin scrambled back, tears springing to his eyes. "No no no," he whispered desperately. "Please. Please."

He hated what he was reduced to.

Just then, Arthur broke off from his spot on the right side of Uther's throne. He strode forward with the confidence of a king and stood in front of Merlin, blocking Aldous's path.

Merlin stared.

"Prince Arthur," Aldous said a little confusedly.

Arthur moving must have been a cue because Morgana left her place on Uther's left to stand beside Arthur. Gaius and Gwen moved away from the front row pillar and stood on either side of Merlin behind him.

That was when Merlin noticed, all of them (except Gaius) were holding swords.

"No," Merlin whispered fearfully.

His voice was lost with the sound of Arthur's gauntlet hitting the ground in front of Aldous's feet.

"After you," Arthur said flatly, "it's Queen Lia."

"Arthur, what is the meaning of this?" Uther demanded, standing up.

Arthur drew out his sword and the others did the same. "If you want to hurt Merlin, you'll have to get past me—us first."

The four of them moved in, shielding him.

Gaius procured a key from his robe and knelt to release the collar. Gwen worked on the muzzle.

"What—" Merlin's eyes widened on the key. "Where—"

"We snuck into their room," Gwen said. "Well, Morgana and Arthur did mostly. With Sir Leon keeping lookout, we were quite surprised when he overheard us and volunteered to help. Morgana tried one of the spells from Gaius's book—your book—and she succeeded." She smiled. "We can free you now."

Merlin gawked at them in surprise, almost missing it when his muzzle came loose and his collar fell on his lap.

Merlin stared at his— the collar. The leash attached to it fell limply on the floor. The muzzle too. They were just things. Inanimate objects. Objects that caused so much pain.

Gwen grabbed them both and threw them as hard as she could. They hit the far wall and fell on the floor.

"I will not allow you to do this!" Uther thundered.

"And I will not allow you to hurt Merlin!" Arthur yelled back with even more force.

Gaius meanwhile gently took Merlin's left wrist first and unlocked the cuff with a sharp click.

Merlin screamed as the cuff split open, the thorns that had been gouging into his wrists for two days straight, widening every time his muscles contracted and expanded, blood flowing and flowing with each movement to the point that his nails were painted and dripping. They finally came out in a spray of red with tiny chunks of flesh. He clutched his wrist, tears rolling down his cheeks with the agony.

"Guards!" Uther and Lia shrieked at the same time.

Knights and guards alike surrounded them with pointed swords.

Gaius quickly unlocked the other cuff too and Merlin's next scream was interrupted by a sharp gasp as his eyes turned a familiar, friendly gold. He hiccuped in pain and let his magic, however weak and bruised it was, flood him once more.

Uther's nostrils flared. "I order you to leave or I'll—"

"You'll what?" Morgana challenged. "Execute your own children and only physician?"

"You all betrayed me," Uther hissed. "This is considered treason."

Gaius stood up to face the mad king. "You never deserved my or anyone else's loyalty in the first place, Uther, old friend."

No no no, they were signing their own death warrant! Ignoring his throbbing and sore body, Merlin hissed, "Stop! You're going to get killed."

"We'll be killed anyway now if we surrender," Gwen said, holding her sword and covering him defensively. "So if we're going to die, we'd rather do it while helping you escape than sit idly."

Merlin shook his head. He didn't know what to say. On one hand, they had made such an elaborate plan to free him…

"What are you waiting for?" Lia shrieked. "Do you want the filth to get its evil power back? Attack!"

They charged and his four friends met them in battle. Merlin lost all hope. They were going to die. Because of him.

Suddenly, one of Harden's men flew through the air and hit the wall with a crack.

Everyone stopped to see Gaius's eyes fade from gold back to brown.

Another person, another Harden, was blown into the wall too and Morgana's eyes changed from gold to green.

Merlin's jaw dropped.

So did Uther's.

"No wonder the attachments were so strong," Lia said, eyes wide and wild with hate. "The old man never stopped practicing and the king's ward herself possesses it."

Morgana gave her a manic smile. "Come and get me, you bitch. See if you can catch me first to break me." She twirled her sword and slashed at one person while throwing another with her magic.

Uther slumped against his throne in shock.

Merlin was pretty damn surprised himself.

But as he saw the flying people and how Gaius and Gwen defended each other and Morgana and Arthur cut down man after man, Merlin allowed himself a genuine trickle of hope.

They could do this. They could help him escape. Then they would figure things out from there, but… but perhaps the Dragon's words were slightly wrong. Maybe Merlin wouldn't have to die after all.

The door burst open and more knights joined the battle. The room was full of men in Pendragon red and Harden grey. The clanks and clashes of swords and armor filled the air. Merlin was in the middle of it, surrounded on all sides by his friends fighting to protect him. His teeth clacked with each ring of a sword meeting sword near him. There was no way this wasn't going to end in some amount of bloodshed.

But his friends were holding themselves well. Very well. Arthur’s sword skills combined with Morgana’s and Gaius’s magic (and Gwen’s unexpected feistiness), they were cutting down person after person. People went flying backwards, blood expelled from sword wounds and head wounds, and the guards and knights were afraid of Morgana. Of her magic, when before they thought she was innocent.

“Merlin!” Gwen hissed, blocking a sword from meeting her leg. “Go!”

Merlin turned his head and saw an opening for him to run. Gaius was pushing away guard after guard to keep that space open. The brunt of the castle’s fighters were in the throne room, not the hallways. All he had to do was run.

He steeled himself and got to his feet, taking a step forward—

Just then, a cry of pain pierced the air.

Arthur's cry of pain.

Merlin turned and saw the sword buried into Arthur's chest—like the dagger that pierced his—and something in him cracked.

Like an elastic stretched to its limit, Merlin's anger snapped with an echoing sound akin to a whip. With it, his magic released too.

The trapped, restrained, choked, hunted, bruised and abused force of life finally screamed—Enough!—and released everything that had been forcefully hidden. It was too powerful, too alive, too connected to the world to be leashed and contained like a f*cking dog.

All at once, the air in the room changed and every single person who weren't his friends were pushed with sudden force. In the blink of an eye and an explosion of pure, physical power of gold, the walls of the castle cracked as knights and guards were thrown across the room and into them.

Some of them were dead from landing wrong, most were injured, and the rest were winded.

In the middle of the shimmering golden air, stood Merlin, surrounded on four sides by his friends who were gaping at him with jaws hanging open.

But Merlin was looking at a certain two people.

The Hardens' eyes widened and they stared at Merlin—the scrawny boy they tortured so badly that he could barely walk or lift his head by the end of it.

They stared at him: standing up, covered in blood, hair wild, matted and knotted with bits of dried blood still stuck to it, faint muzzle marks over his face, his wrists carrying deep holes that oozed fresh dark blood, a band of bruised red, green and purple around his neck… and his eyes. Eyes that were burning a deep, deep angry gold.

The very air in the courtroom quivered. The sky outside darkened and rumbled out a threat. But the real danger was in the room.

The yellow shimmer jerked, agitated, and it lashed out at the walls and the people. Almost like a sentient being, it bit the stone and the guards and knights, penetrating into their flesh, causing them to shake. All at once, the men collapsed on the floor, seizing.

The gold fog slammed into the walls, shuddering the room so hard like the entire Earth itself was trembling beneath Merlin's feet.

Bright colors of purple, yellow, red, pink and blue burst in clouds, revealing fast growing clumps of carnivorous plants. They extended their vines and drew up the guards and the knights, the ones that dared to strike Merlin's friends and the ones who found entertainment in belittling and restraining him. They squeezed until they broke skin, strangled until the bodies stopped moving, then they bit into their necks and held the corpses that way. Sir Edmund let out a bloody gargle before going still. The rest of the guards and knights who were alive remained seizing or still.

Merlin stepped in front of Arthur.

"You're Emrys," Lia whispered.

"The most powerful sorcerer to ever live," Alisa said with wonder from the safest corner Merlin had sent her to.

Aldous was staring at him too.

"I thought you were just a fable," Lia said with heavy disbelief. "Something the sorcerers made up to make themselves feel better."

Merlin's eyes flickered almost like they had flames in them. "Clearly," he said, his voice somehow resonating and rumbling through the whole room, "you were wrong."

He had enough. He had had enough.

Pure energy from the bedrock of the Earth flowed up his body and circled inside his chest, his core. He lifted his hand and Lia and Aldous's backs turned rigid as they began to choke, clutching their throats.

"You have hurt my people."

He squeezed harder.

"You tortured us."

Lia let out a grotesque wheeze.

"Considered us as less than human. Less than nature."

The royalty stared at him with begging eyes.

"No more," he growled.

Merlin jerked his hand and the sound of two necks snapping cracked through the air like the whip Aldous had been holding.

Their necks were straight one moment, then bent horizontally the next. The movement so sudden that part of their skin tore, blood splattering over the wall in a decorative fashion like pretty patterns on a dress, revealing the pink flesh and organs of unmoving throats.

Merlin dropped his hand and the two bodies dropped with it.

He turned to Uther who was gaping at him with shock… and fear. The king of Camelot was so ready and eager to believe the Hardens about the lack of humaneness of sorcerers, that he had no qualms about them torturing and dehumanizing a life in front of him. The king of Camelot was not fit to be king ever since the day he got lost in grief.

Merlin's eyes flickered once more and Uther flew through the air, hit his head against the wall, then slumped to the ground. Still, but only unconscious.

Merlin turned back to his friends who were also staring at him. His eyes immediately flitted to Arthur.

The stab wound in Arthur’s chest had missed his heart. It missed his heart. It… it missed his heart.

Arthur was alive.

His eyes turned back to blue and he collapsed with a cry.

His body grew tired, almost paralyzed with exhaustion. His vision doubled and he could barely grasp a full thought. Merlin moaned as his cuts and wounds ignited and burned, burned, burned, burned with pain. Despite it all, he felt oddly… calm.

The four immediately jumped to his side. No one else dared to approach.

Arthur slid his hands under his knees and back to lift him, but that only erupted another pained cry from Merlin.

"Keep him still!" Gaius told him. So Arthur rested his head on his lap.

A memory flashed by, water from the Cup of Life and Arthur's head on his own lap as he delivered the cure. It lifted up the edges of his lips in a smile.

Gaius was saying something, but his brain couldn't comprehend the big words he was using. He was going to die. He knew it. Alisa had said so.

"Arthur," he croaked.

"Shut up, Merlin. Save your energy," Arthur snapped worriedly.

Merlin shook his head. "You kn— know I never li—sten to you."

"Merlin—"

"Arthur," Merlin repeated. "I have a little left."

Arthur frowned in confusion through his panic. "What?"

"I have a little left."

Merlin brought his hands and cupped his palms together, grunting in pain.

"Merlin, stop. You’re weak enough as it—"

"Gewyrcan lif," he whispered. His eyes flashed gold and pain consumed him entirely. But Merlin pushed through it.

I wish I could see your magic. I wish I could see the beauty you mention it has.

He opened his hands and a butterfly fluttered out. Suddenly, the room was absent of any sound except the flickering wings of the butterfly.

The bright blue creature with black-edged wings moved its wings at a graceful pace. Its antennae moved and legs hovered, sailing through the air that was filled with terrors, blood and screams only minutes ago.

As Merlin watched it flutter around his friends' heads, and their—Arthur's—wide eyes filled with wonder at it, he understood. He finally understood.

Oh, Destiny was cruel but… he got to experience some of the best moments with his friends. Even if there were few in the past couple of days. He cherished them. Had them branded into his brain. Never to forget until his dying breath.

This was meant to happen. His death was meant to pass so Arthur could finally understand and bring about that Golden Age so no one else could suffer like he did. He had Gwen by his side and Gaius to guide him, and Morgana was powerful enough and had a close enough bond with him to stay true and loyal and protect him for the rest of her years.

"You're going to live, Merlin," Arthur's voice broke through his thoughts. He hadn't even noticed the stab wound in his chest. The blood was leaking on Merlin's own chest, coating his shirt. "You're going to, that's an order."

Merlin laughed softly, ignoring the bursts of agony stabbing him all over his body.

He wished he could speak and tell them that he loved them all and was so grateful and happy that they were a part of his life. Out of all the decisions he made, to this day, the best one was still daring to punch the prat prince in front of the marketplace that day.

"My boy." Gaius was crying.

So were Gwen and Morgana.

Arthur was making an effort not to, trying to appear annoyed instead and failing magnanimously.

It made Merlin smile. Some things would never change.

He suddenly had so much to say. So much to tell Gaius about how grateful he was to call him his father and mentor. So much to tell Gwen about how being her best friend brought endless joy to his heart. So much to tell Morgana about how special her kindness was and how much it affected him. So much to tell Arthur about… about everything.

About how truly honored he was to be his friend, about how he enjoyed every moment they spent together, about how he really was happy to be his servant. Till the day he died.

But he didn't have time. His magic was slipping and so was the pain. Slowly and slowly ebbing away. His life force was draining. His brain was shutting down and eyelids fluttering.

Merlin could feel his breaths starting to slow and— it scared him. Terrified him. He didn't know what was going to happen to him next.

But for now, he still had them. Arthur, Gwen, Morgana and Gaius. Cleansing the air of his screams, humiliation and torture with their warmth and acceptance. He could feel their bond with him even as he was dying.

He loved them. So much. He would never forget them. Even after.

A drop fell on his cheek and Merlin's eyes flickered to Arthur only to see his king pained and crying for him.

"Merlin," Arthur choked, cradling his head and clutching his body. "Please don't leave, my friend. Please don’t leave."

His chest stopped moving and his lungs refused to take more than two breaths. His eyes burned as he smiled painfully. "Don't forget me." He put a hand on Arthur's blonde hair, the sweat-soaked smooth locks tickling his trembling fingers. "You're a great king, Arthur."

And a greater friend.

~~End~~