Wow, thank you all so much for showing such interest in this story. It truly means a lot. I forgot to put the disclaimer in the first chapter (oops) so here it is for the second.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin


Chapter 02

"Alnwick, the finest city in Essetir," Gwaine praised as Arthur and the others joined him at the top of the hill overlooking the vast establishment.

"Why do you say that?" asked Elyan while Arthur eyed the large city below.

"Because of the tavern and brothel of course!" Gwaine laughed.

Arthur grimaced, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Fighting the temptation to push the rogue out of his saddle, he settled for berating him instead.

"Knights do not frequent brothels, Gwaine!"

"Of course they don't," Gwaine sighed. "Why do you think I spend all my time flirting with the castle maids instead?"

"You-are-a-knight!" Leon ground out in horror.

"Leave it, Leon," Arthur grumbled. "There's no use trying to change a man who is already set in his ways."

Gwaine grinned and tipped his head to him. "Indeed there isn't, princess!"

Arthur's teeth ground together at the nickname. He let it slide as he always did, however, resigned because it was a waste of energy to reprimand Gwaine for insulting him so.

"Thanks to being attacked by those bandits at first light, we're in dire need of supplies," he said instead. "I want to get what we need and get out of the city as quickly as possible. Remember not to draw any attention to yourselves; we're technically not supposed to be here."

The six of them guided their horses away from the hilltop and made their way back to the main road. Dressed like your average traveler with no indication they were from Camelot let alone knights, Arthur led the group into the city towards the market.

Camelot's new king had to admit that Alnwick was striking. It was the capital city of Essetir after all, Lot's castle standing out like a beacon, the dark stone as black as ebony even in the sunlight. A river ran through the northern part of the city providing the people with a sufficient water supply as well as serving a way to cart goods quickly from one end of town to the other.

The streets were full of merchants selling anything from food to people, the latter much to Arthur and the knights' disgust. Slavery was banned within Camelot but some of the neighboring kingdoms felt differently about the practice. Arthur couldn't understand why anyone would think it right to take away an innocent person's freedom. Shaking his head mournfully at the spectacle of human trafficking, he pushed his way through the crowds until he reached the local inn and tavern, The Black Swan. Dismounting, he handed the reins of his horse to a servant who led his mare into the nearby stables.

"Fancying a pint?" Gwaine guessed.

"We've been traveling for three days, Gwaine," Arthur replied. "I think it's proper to finally have a decent meal, don't you?"

"If the meal includes ale," the rogue grinned.

The six of them headed inside. The inn was large, the space cozy and warm and fairly vacant for the morning. Arthur picked a table in the corner where it was easiest to keep an eye on his surroundings. He may not be here to cause trouble but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any; he'd learned long ago that anything could happen in a tavern.

"What can I get you gents?" asked a barmaid.

"Six tankards of mead, please," Gwaine enthusiastically answered.

"As well as whatever meal you're serving for the day," Lancelot added.

"Coming right up," the barmaid said, her eyes lingering specifically on Percival before walking away.

"Watch out, Percival," Elyan grinned, "You might have an admirer."

The large knight blushed but, as usual, kept his thoughts to himself.

After their meal – and forcing Gwaine away from his third round of ale – Arthur ordered the men to split up and gather supplies. Leon and Gwaine were to head to the smithy to repair their weapons and Elyan and Percival were to stay near the horses while the king and Lancelot replenished their food supply.

"We'll meet back here in an hour," Arthur stated before the groups split off.

Wandering through the market, Arthur observed that while the people seemed to be in a poorer state than his own, they were still cheerful, greeting each other and laughing as they shopped for their wares. Little children ran freely in the streets, playing with balls made from rolled up material and rope while their mothers shopped. Servants and slaves followed their masters, burdened with purchases. A pang ran through Arthur's heart at the latter sight. He hadn't realized he'd stopped to watch one servant being berated by his lord until Lancelot rested a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find him," he muttered, knowing exactly who Arthur was thinking about.

The new king shook his head. "We've been looking for weeks. He wasn't in any village in Camelot or even Ealdor. Hunith hasn't seen him. I fear something terrible has happened to him. What if he's…?"

"You know he isn't," Lancelot answered. "Your ring would not have stopped those bandits this morning if that were so."

Arthur looked down at his magic ring and frowned. It had taken him weeks to figure out where the atrocity had even come from. Though he didn't know how Merlin had slipped the stupid thing on his finger, he had come to appreciate the gift with all his heart. He had been terrified the first time it had saved his life during the melee. The second time, during a bandit raid, he'd become suspicious. When it had protected him from a rogue serket in the woods, however, he knew. The blatant magic that had killed the serket felt exactly like Merlin and Arthur could deny no longer that his ex-manservant-turned-sorcerer was somehow still holding true to his word of saving his life.

Thankfully the knights that bore witness to these events never revealed to the king that his son was being protected by magic. As Uther's unstable madness of killing anyone even suspected of sorcery grew, the knights allegiance and loyalty turned completely from him to Arthur. By the time the king died and Arthur was crowned, every knight in the realm held a friendlier stance towards magic, each having witnessed at some point the protection of Merlin's ring.

Arthur twisted the ring on his finger. "I just hope that it never stops working."

Both feared what it would mean if it did. Gaius had hypothesized that the ring was somehow tied to Merlin – as long as the warlock lived so would the ring's protection – and in the ways of magic, the old physician's assumptions were usually on point.

"Come on," Lancelot encouraged, "the sooner we get our supplies, the sooner we can be back on the road looking for him."

They were picking out a bunch of apples when a nearby conversation between two girls caught Arthur's attention, freezing him in place.

"I honestly can't believe you, saving half your wages every month just so you can have a session with Merlin some day," said the one with long auburn hair, teasing her friend as she examined a pear.

"You can't tell me you haven't been doing the same thing, Rosaline," her dark haired companion retorted. "I've seen the way you look at him."

Rosaline rolled her eyes. "Laura, everyone looks at him like that. I overheard Nenari saying the other day that even she was considering booking a session."

"Please, Nenari isn't about to associate herself with her own property."

Arthur paled. Property?

"Though she wants to," Rosaline giggled.

Laura swatted her companion. "Come on, we need to get back. Nenari will have our heads if we're late."

"I hope Merlin likes pears," Rosaline muttered, paying the merchant for the fruit before rushing off with her friend.

Arthur abandoned the apple stand without hesitation, Lancelot mirroring him. It didn't take a genius to figure out the context of the girls' conversation. Arthur felt like he was going to be sick.

Maybe it's a different Merlin, he said to himself as he followed the girls. Maybe you've got it all wrong. There's nothing to worry about, right?

He came to a crashing halt when the girls entered what was unmistakably a brothel. Lancelot let out a heavy curse.

"We might be wrong," Arthur said, his voice trembling as he spoke his thoughts. "It could be someone else."

"Sire," Lancelot began hesitantly, "though I do not wish to think it, Merlin's… physique… it fits with this kind of profession."

Arthur didn't want to agree but Lancelot was right. Merlin wasn't large but lithe, his structure more on the softer side, a side that Arthur could easily see being lusted after by men and women with little to no honor. If his magic was bound, he wouldn't be able to fight back for long -if at all- in such precarious circumstances. Overcome with terror, the young king practically sprinted into the brothel.

"Arthur!" Lancelot cried, following after him.

The interior was large and clean, a rug of intricate patterns rolled out over the cobblestone floor. Paintings of different woodlands hung on the walls and tall potted plants stood in the corners. A young woman stood behind a greeting counter currently speaking to an older gentleman while several lords and ladies lounged in waiting chairs chatting with their fellows, waiting their turn to go into the back for their scheduled sessions. Arthur marched up to the counter, disgust written all over his face as he witnessed a fat nobleman with a flushed countenance leave through the large open doorway leading further back into the brothel. If that man had just finished having his way with Merlin, and it was his Merlin, he'd kill him. He'd kill every last person who dared touch his manservant.

Tapping his foot furiously, Arthur waited until the older gentleman at the counter concluded his business. The girl behind the desk scribbled something on a piece of parchment before smiling up at him at his approach.

"How can I help you, sir?"

How could she be so cheerful in this house of horrors? Did she not have any sense of honor? Of dignity?

"I overheard that a man named Merlin is one of your…"

"Pleasures?" the girl offered when the king found himself floundering to come up with any word to describe this atrocious profession.

The title made Arthur's skin crawl but he reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

The girl smiled. "I'm sure you heard nothing but good things about him. He's the best we have to offer. But I'm afraid that if you want to schedule a session with him you'll have to wait until next month. We should have an opening in about five weeks."

Arthur's jaw hit the floor. There was absolutely no way that the man this woman spoke of was his manservant. While he, reluctantly, had to admit that Merlin wasn't necessarily the worst to look upon, he couldn't see people desiring him in this magnitude. Still, he couldn't just leave without at least seeing this establishment's Merlin for himself. But there was no way he was going to wait five weeks to do so.

"Is there any way I can see what he looks like before…" he swallowed, his voice grinding out the last few words, "before scheduling an appointment?"

"Certainly," the girl said brightly, "we keep portraits of all our Pleasures. Mind you, several have tried to purchase Merlin's but I'm afraid none of the portraits are for sale. Here we are. Handsome thing, isn't he?"

Arthur tried not to look sick as he shared a glance with a rather disturbed Lancelot. Though the painting wasn't perfect, it was enough evidence for them both. It was Merlin but he was clothed in a way Arthur never would have wished to see.

"Sire…" Lancelot croaked, horrified.

Arthur leaned against the counter, his head bowed and his eyes shut. He vaguely heard the girl asking him a question but his inner disgust and revulsion was so deep he didn't comprehend what she said.

Merlin… How on earth had this happened? And, more importantly, how long had he been here?

"I need to get him out," Arthur whispered.

"Excuse me, but if you're not going to do business then I suggest you move so the rest of us can," someone snarled behind him.

Arthur filled with rage and turned around, eyeing the short little nobleman in front of him with a stare that could kill. The man swallowed and backed up, apologizing immediately.

"Is there a problem here?"

Arthur turned to see a young man about his and Lancelot's age, clad in dark trousers and a green tunic, staring them down with a scowl. His face and posture were easy to identify as those belonging to a warrior, the minor scars visible on his arms attesting to previously survived duels. He had a knife and sword strapped to his belt and his demeanor sent out a message that he was not one to cross. Arthur, however, was not intimidated.

"I would like to speak with the owner of this establishment," the king declared.

The man raised a curious brow. "Are you here to file a complaint?"

"No. I wish to discuss the welfare of one of your Pleasures," he spat out the last word, hating the fact that he had to associate such a title with Merlin.

The man eyed Arthur a moment more before shrugging and turning to the girl. "Hannah, fetch Nenari."

The girl nodded, eyeing Arthur warily before rushing out a side door. A minute later she returned with an older woman in her early fifties whose fierce demeanor reminded Arthur of Queen Annis of Caerleon.

"May I help you?"

"Are you the owner of this brothel?"

"I am. Hannah informs me that you wish to discuss one of my Pleasures. Have you had a negative experience?"

"No," Arthur curtly replied. "I have never before associated myself with such business." He glanced behind him at their audience before lowering his voice and mustering his anger into a more controlled tone, muttering, "I wondered if we could discuss Merlin, my lady."

The woman looked him up and down, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Are you a businessman?"

"You could say that."

"Then we should speak privately," she stated. "Please leave your guard and your weapons here. We have a policy against such things."

Arthur didn't like the idea of going into an environment unarmed but for Merlin he didn't hesitate removing his sword and dagger, handing them to a rather concerned Lancelot. He then gestured for the owner to lead him along, following her through the open doorway into a hall that was lit with sunlight. Several doors they passed were closed but the noises coming from behind them made Arthur sick with both worry and disgust. One of those could be Merlin. Repulsed, he forced himself onward, following the woman into a large sitting room.

Once both were seated the lady threaded her fingers together. "If we are to do business, I feel it appropriate to make introductions. My name is Nenari."

Normally in such circumstances Arthur would never reveal his true identity but, for a matter such as this, only his title would successfully remove Merlin from this horrifying prison – and he'd be hanged if he had to leave him here now that he'd finally found him. Reaching into the hidden pocket of his trousers Arthur pulled out his signet ring and stated his name with pride.

"Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot."

Nenari's eyes widened as she beheld his seal, her mouth dropping open in surprise. "Your Majesty, forgive me," she said, quickly rising to curtsy. "I did not know who you were."

"Then I did well in my choice of dress," Arthur smirked, indicating for her to sit. "I assume that you understand the delicacy of my situation and will refrain from spreading this knowledge to anyone else."

"Of course, sire," she said at once. "If I may be so bold, what is your interest in Merlin?"

"I wish to remove him from this place."

Nenari hesitated. "Your Majesty, you must understand, Merlin brings in most of my customers. He is highly sought after."

"I understand," he said though he was still having difficulties fathoming that fact. "But I am most insistent. I'm afraid I will not leave here until you allow him into my custody."

"And I'm afraid to say that I've already promised to sell him to Lord Randal," Nenari reluctantly revealed. "The man is the most powerful in Essetir besides King Lot himself and has promised me enough coin to pay off all my debts and live comfortably until the day I die. With such a promise I fear I cannot do business with you."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. There was no way he was going to allow some pompous lord to claim ownership over his friend.

"Have you already made the exchange with this man?"

"Not yet. He's going to provide the money tomorrow."

"Whatever he has promised you, I will pay ten times over."

Nenari choked. "Excuse me?"

"I am willing to pay ten times the amount he promised," Arthur repeated. "May I inquire as to how much is he willing to give?"

"A thousand gold pieces, Sire."

"Then my offer is ten thousand gold pieces," he declared before leaning forward and muttering, "I will not allow anyone else to have Merlin, my lady. If it comes down to it, I will fight for him until the last breath leaves my body."

"But you've never even bedded the man!" Nenari protested, her posture and tone becoming somewhat defensive. "Lord Randal has been seeing Merlin for nearly eight months. I can trust him to take care of him. Forgive me, sire, but I know next to nothing about you or how you will treat him. Even if you offered all the gold in your coffers I can't, in good conscience, sell Merlin to you."

"You don't understand," Arthur snapped angrily, "Merlin was my servant before he came to be here!"

Nenari's eyes widened. "Your servant?"

"Yes! There was a misunderstanding that resulted in him having to flee Camelot. I would have sought him out sooner but, due to certain circumstances, I haven't been able to leave the citadel until now."

Nenari stared at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed playfully. "This misunderstanding wasn't due to a compromising relationship between the two of you, was it?"

"What?! No!" Arthur cried in disgust, flabbergast by her implication. Incensed, he continued, "Madam, I would have you know that my relationship with Merlin is one hundred percent platonic! The important thing for you to understand is that he is my servant and I'm here to collect him."

Despite the fact that he spoke to her in his highest tone of authority, Nenari was not intimidated. Folding her arms, she leaned back in her chair.

"And what if Merlin does not wish to go with you? What if he'd rather serve Lord Randal?"

Arthur raised one golden eyebrow. "You actually care about what Merlin wants?"

"I've grown rather fond of him," she confessed. "And I admit I'm curious to know who he favors more: the master who cast him out or the lord who has shown him love since he came here." She paused to silently study the king before continuing, "Regardless, you have presented a higher sum than Lord Randal and therefore I'm inclined to consider your offer. However, I will admit that Merlin's opinion will hold weight in whatever decision I make. As I said before, in my own way I care for his wellbeing."

Arthur straightened his shoulders. If that was the case then he needed to talk to Merlin before Nenari did. He needed the idiot to know how sorry he was. He needed him to forgive him.

"If Merlin's opinion is so important to you, allow me to have some time with him. Then you can ask him who he would prefer to serve."

After a moment's contemplation the older woman nodded her consent. "Alright; but today is Merlin's day off."

"If the deal with Lord Randal is to take place tomorrow then I must see Merlin today," Arthur insisted.

Nenari sighed before standing and smoothing out her dress. "Very well, sire. Please wait here. I'll return for you in a moment."

The second she was gone, Arthur fell back against his chair and let out a heavy sigh. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined meeting Merlin in these circumstances. Truth be told, he was a nervous wreck. The last time he'd seen his former servant they'd departed on the worst of terms. Would Merlin rather be with this Lord Randal than with him after what had happened? Arthur sincerely prayed that whatever demons were unleashed between them, they wouldn't stop Merlin from seeing just how sorry he was for everything he'd done.

Nenari returned. "He's ready for you now. Please, come with me."

Arthur swallowed back his dread and stood, taking on a role of kingly grace. Nenari stared at him with silent scrutiny before shaking her head and gesturing for him to follow. Leaving the sitting room, they reentered the main hallway but instead of walking back to one of the doors on the main floor, Nenari led him to a staircase leading to an upper level. Merlin was behind a door painted with a number three in the corner.

"I will give you half an hour, sire. Then, when I return, I'll speak with Merlin privately before sharing my decision."

"Very well," Arthur agreed. "Would you please inform my companion, Lancelot, that I will be detained for some time and will meet him at the inn in which we are staying later tonight?"

"Of course, my lord," she said, curtsying to him.

Arthur nodded to her in thanks and took a deep breath. This was it. After months of reflection and regret he was finally going to reunite with Merlin. Facing the door, he knocked on the hard surface and entered.