All Merlin knew as he came back to the conscious world was pain. The pain radiated from every inch of his body and made even breathing a hard task to do without wincing. But this was only the pain that could be linked to the physical abuse he has endured. There was a deeper pain, one that cut him to his very soul. His magic was being suppressed and locked away from him, quite literally cutting a piece of his soul off from the rest of him. For a second, while he was still coming to, he had forgotten where he was and why he was in this condition, but everything came flooding back to him. His heart sank to the ground and a deep sadness filled him along with a growing anger.
Arthur, he thought, the bitterness almost tangible in his thoughts.
Merlin had been the fool everyone called him his whole life. Believing that the then prince and now King of Camelot could actually accept him for who he truly was, could ever be friends with a lowly servant like him, of course he was an idiot. To think, he had risked his life for the last 7 years for the man who was the reason Merlin was chained in the dungeons of Camelot, lacking any visibly unbruised or bloody scraps of skin and cut off from his magic.
Everything around him was the reason he could not reach his magic. This was not just any dungeon cell. It was specifically created to hold sorcerers since Arthur's father began his hideous persecution against magic during The Great Purge. His shackles, they were not shackles for any prisoner, but inscribed with ancient runes meant to also keep his magic unreachable to him. Of course, Arthur could not have known what this was all really doing to him because, just like his father, he was an ignorant, pig-headed man who would not hear reason or any one who strayed in thought from them.
That was why Merlin thought Arthur was different. He would listen to Merlin, although he would never admit it. He used Merlin as his moral compass and unofficial advisor. At least, that's what he thought. Being in this cell for at least a fortnight, although Merlin had stopped keeping track a while back, had given him time to think. All the times he thought he had truly reached and influenced Arthur had been false. He would warn him, time after time, and be disregarded, turned aside and made fun of. Then, he would be expected, not by Arthur or anyone in particular except the man he thought of like a father, a great mystical dragon, the entire race of druids and the Fates themselves to save his ungrateful arse and get no recognition from anywhere for his hard work and endeavors, not that he even wanted any, but it would still be nice to not be seen as the bumbling, incompetent servant to the oh-so-perfect king. But how he was wrong. So, so very wrong and this was how he had landed himself here.
They –The King, Merlin and the Knights- had been out in the woods on one of Arthur's infamous and routine hunting trips. Of course no one had regarded Merlin's gut feelings of wariness and only used his instincts as the butt of their jokes the whole ride into the woods. Deep into their hunt, way past high noon, Merlin had fallen behind the group instead of being at his normal place just barely behind and to the right of the King. Being back here made the men forget about him and joke about other, actually funny stuff.
Gwaine was telling the story of one of his numerous adventures in a small tavern for what was at least the hundredth time when Merlin heard something in the woods. At least, that's what he had told the men. He had more accurately felt something lurking around them. It had started as the same nagging feeling he had before they set out at dawn, but the longer they went on and the deeper they ventured into the woods, it had grown until Merlin was almost shaking with a sort of… nervous anticipation would be the only way he could describe it.
The attack was launched right after he had warned the Knights of the "sound" he heard. Men lurched from all around, but they were not what Merlin focused on. There was energy, dark and powerful and still lingered in the shadows. Merlin looked around him, wildly trying to find its source. That was when he saw her. Morgana! Of course, it could only be her on the attack. Unbeknownst to Arthur, who thought he had finally scared her off with his latest taking back of the thrown, Morgana had been amassing an army, but not just an army of fighting barbarians. She had been collecting those with magic and whom The Great Purge, Uther and even Arthur had scorned. The only repayment they sought for their loyalty was the eventual piking of Arthur's head, even though most of this mess was the late Uther's.
Her eyes were set on Arthur, who was currently fighting off two men, although it was obvious they were not fighting to their full potential. If Merlin had to guess, it was because Morgana gave explicit instructions to leave him for her. Merlin slunk to the shadows because he knew he was going to have to use magic to make sure they all made it back to Camelot in one piece. The knights had dispatched all the men Morgana had brought to distract them and so now it was time for Morgana to whip out her magic because she was not opposed to unfair fights as long as the power favored her. With a wave of her hand, the men, except Arthur, had been flung into the forest, unconscious. Arthur looked around violently, for what Merlin could not tell you, but he soon gave up and focused a deadly glare on Morgana.
"Brother dearest," she spoke first. "How great it is to see you again, especially after our last encounter!" she finished with a cruel sneer on her face, gold swirling in her crystal blue eyes as anger radiated off of her stiff posture.
"Morgana! I thought I had finally rid the kingdom of your foulness." He spit, not using his usual pleas trying to convince her to return to Camelot and forget her path of vengeance.
"So you've given up on groveling at my feet?" she noticed. "What a shame, I quite liked seeing you like that."
"What do you want, sister of mine?" Arthur questioned.
"What I've always wanted. What all magic users want. You dead and me at the thrown!" Morgana deadpanned.
"That's never going to happen, Morgana. Not as long as I rule Camelot!" Arthur yelled, his own anger making a grand appearance.
"I do not think you are understanding what I am saying, Arthur," she laughed out at him. "Although, you never were the sharpest sword were you?" He looked like he was about to verbally fight back but she cut him off. "I am going to kill you, not now, but after I have had some fun with you."
I was then that she started incanting some spell. Arthur started to unsheathe his sword and charge her, but there was no way he would get to her in time, so Merlin used his magic and just flung her into a tree.
This cut off the spell but did not do more than briefly disorient her. She stopped focusing on Arthur and looked into the woods, eyes wild and body flittering, trying to uncover where the attack had come from. She was scared, that much was evident.
"Emrys," she whispered. "Emrys!" she screeched the second time. "Show yourself!"
Merlin knew this was not possible, at least not with Arthur conscious and able to see him. He thought about knocking him out, but decided he was not ready for Morgana to know the true identity of Emrys, Merlin, yet. However, before he decided what to do next, Morgana had some type of hold on Arthur with her magic.
"Come out here Emrys, or say goodbye to your precious King!" she boomed, trying to act like she wasn't afraid but he could see it in her eyes, even from the shadows where he lay.
He got up, straightened himself, and walked out from behind the shadows, trying to look as confident and intimidating as he could. He didn't look at Arthur at all, not yet ready to see what would be written on his face.
Morgana started to laugh, chuckling at first and then hysterically. It unnerved Merlin. "This has to be some cruel trick. Stop wasting time Merlin! I want Emrys," she bellowed, "and he will show himself!"
"You are looking at him, Morgana," Merlin replied much more calmly than he thought he could, "and you should show some respect!" he bellowed back, but much more ferociously, with real power.
This was when he decided to look at Arthur. Disbelief evident on his face, although he could have sworn he saw growing pain, or was it scorn?
Merlin took this pause from Morgana to use his magic, without a spell since he had instinctual magic. She flew again into the woods, releasing whatever hold she had on Arthur, but this time unconsciousness stuck. Merlin turned to Arthur to make sure he was okay, but all he saw before he blacked out was Arthur's fury and the hilt of his sword before it came crashing down in his head, sending him into a dreamless sleep.
Merlin was brought out of his review of that day with the sound of a key being put into the cell door and heavy footsteps moving closer to him. As he lifted his head, with more effort needed than ever before, he came face to face with a pair of blue eyes he could never forget.