I don't own Merlin. Yet...

Uther Pendragon was not a forgiving man. He was known for his rage against magic folk and anyone who dared attempt even the smallest spell would eventually have to face his wrath. His son, Arthur, was the only thing that the king loved more than he hated magic. When his wife died giving birth to Arthur, he swore to protect his beautiful boy from the corruption and evils of magic. So, when he saw his son's manservant lifting buckets from the well with magic, he could feel the anger and hatred bubble and boil under his skin. He called for the guards to arrest the peasent and bring him down to the lowest dungeons.

The chain around his neck felt heavy and was long enough so that he could stand and sit, but it was too short to allow much movement around the prison. Merlin could almost feel the hatred rolling off of the king as he walked into the small, dark cell.

"Merlin, you have been found guilty of treason against the crown. You are now stripped of your titles and rights." Uther stated in complete monotone.

"I apologize, yo-"

"NO!" Uther roared and backhanded Merlin across the face. The boy flew into the wall behind him and he fell to his knees in pain. "Do not SPEAK to me unless I ask you a question. You will answer the questions that I ask you in as few words as possible. If you do not answer the first time I ask, I will get someone to force the answer out of you. Is that clear?" Merlin nodded weakly, but that only made Uther more furious. "IS THAT CLEAR?" He kicked the warlock in his stomach and he pressed his forehead to the ground, his body instinctively curling around the injured area.

"Yes, your majesty." He gasped and coughed. Uther nodded straightened up, and walked out of the cell, his guards following right after him. Merlin listened to their retreating footsteps and overheard parts of his punishments.

"...complete darkness... meals once a day... water... interrogation... manservant... Morgana... Arthur must not know..." The king was too far away to hear much more of what he was saying. Now, Merlin was alone.

The cell was one of the ones that had been used in the earlier days of The Great Purge, when hundreds of sorcerers were burned each day. People were packed like animals in those cells and kept there for days until it was their turn for execution. There was no beds or chamberpots, everyone slept on the floor and designated a small area for the bathroom.

It had been cleaned a few times since then. It still stunk of blood and urine, but Merlin supposed that those smells would be impossible to get out of the walls. The cell was so dark that if he held his hand in front of his face, he couldn't see it. He shivered in the suddenly cold air. The walls felt as if they were leaching the warmth from his body. Of course he had already tried to unlock the door and the chains around his neck, but nothing had happened. He supposed that there were charms put on the doors to absorb the magic that he threw at it. The only sounds that could be heard in the cell were water dripping from the ceiling, a rat scurrying down the hall away from him, and his own breathing.

Suddenly, the warlock was hit with a huge wave of dread that ate his insides until tears pricked his eyelids. Most likely Uther would tell Gaius, Arthur, and Morgana that Merlin decided to go back home. His friends would never think that anything was wrong, for he knew that ever since his village was attacked, he visited his mother often. Yet there was one small spark of hope that said, 'You always tell one of them when you are leaving. They'll notice that there is no note from you and they'll find you.'

But the other part of his brain argued, 'Yes, but the king will then tell them about your magic and they will see you as nothing more than a monster. They will think that you deserved this.' After a while of his brain arguing with itself nonstop about how his friends will react, he shoved his hands over his ears.

"No. No. NO! SHUT UP!" He yelled at himself and the all-powerful sorcerer, the man of the prophecies, the warlock, Emrys, the man who will bring magic back to Albion, the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth... began to cry.

Hey! How are you on this fine day? Merlin isn't doing too well, but Uther is pretty damn pleased! Surprisingly, after one of my friends read it, she began to giggle. I don't know what that says about her sanity... Anyway, I'll be on a trip for a few days, so it'll be hard to write. I might not update this one for a while. At the same time, I might be quicker to update my stories. For the people that are reading Angels and Cannibals, don't worry! I'm just exercising my angsty writing brain! Please review this so I can know how to make my writing style better!

Thanks for reading!

REM