Hi guys. Bit very late so I'm sorry :( Had nasty writers block for ages and this is the first thing to be updated in a while.
Anyway hope alls good thanks for your reviews I really love hearin what you think :D

Merlin still dosn't belong to me (if it did there would be no Lance-Gwen-Arthur... just sayin) :P
hope you enjoy

Merlin would like to clarify that this was not his fault. Constantly people went on about him causing trouble but there was no way, no way that he could have caused or seen this coming.

Well apart from that it was a beautiful sunny day and the Prat had decided on a lie in, no one had belittled, annoyed or tried to make his work hard for him, and yes maybe if the day had begun quite that well it was only a sign it was going to go drastically downhill from there.

But Merlin like the poor naive soul that he was decided to give the universe a bit of credit that it wouldn't try to tie him in knots just this once. Apparently the universe liked to prove him wrong because the very moment he stepped out in to one of the quitter servant corridors on his way to the kitchens, a light footstep from behind him was followed swiftly by something very solid smashing in to the back of his head, hard.

The sharp pain was quickly numbed by darkness and he barely felt his legs give way before everything was consumed in darkness. Floating somewhere in his unconscious, fully aware that he was either being killed or dragged away to his doom -Or someone had accidently clocked him on the head and was taking him to Gaius (unlikely but he could hope)- his last thought was a dull rather fed up one.

'The universe hates me'.

-M-

His head hurt, his arms were straining, pulled back over his head and apparently holding all of his weight. He felt like he'd been dragged at least a reasonable distance and he was so very thirsty. But that wasn't the worst of it though, no, no, no the voices were what did it. Because he knew them, all three annoying, cruel 'I am plainly smirking evil-y while I say this' voices and those three voices were not something you wanted to wake up too after you've been knocked out dragged and hung up in a precarious position.

But he couldn't see them and that was a mercy, actually he refused to see them. He wasn't going to open his eyes because he was sure the sight waiting for him was going to be horrific and terrible and he would just much rather spare himself that particular sight for as long as possible.

So when clipped footsteps echoed through what he imagined to be a large hall and the shuffling of a likely raggedy, torn dress indicated one figure approaching him Merlin was sure to keep his eyes shut tightly as he held his breath.

"Well Merlin," Nimueh purred, "What a pleasure it is to see you once again."

Merlin kept his eyes shut but he didn't have to have much of an imagination to picture the likely furious hatred filled glare the woman was leveling at him at that moment. It was all in the voice, fury hedged with malicious, devious intent.

"The pleasure is all yours." He replied wishing his voice didn't waver so much but heck he was hanging there refusing to open his eyes, any attempt at seeming brave or threatening went out the window.

Nimueh chuckled, a high delighted not entirely sane laugh that halted any thoughts of answering back in future. Death obviously hadn't done Nimueh any good, her laugh was nothing short of unnerving.
An accompanying snicker reminded him of the other occupants- there was no way he was opening his eyes now.

"Something wrong with your eyes Merlin?" Morgana purred from wherever she was standing. Merlin scowled at her as best he could and remained resilient.

"Coward." Morgues sniped, clearly satisfied.

His eyes snapped open and narrowed, glare fixing on the blond witch before he had even realized what he'd done. It could only last so long though before he actually began to see the place properly. He repressed a groan realizing it was worse than he could ever have imagined. The hall they were in as large and dark, black stone and black metal and a long table down the center of the room in the darkest wood he had ever seen. The walls were mostly bare but of course there was always the chance equally black weapons hung somewhere among the muck, covered by layers of dust, grime and evilness. He was chained, hanging from the wall by his arms in the most uncomfortable way possible and he'd never quite been this desperate to get away.

The place was a gothic nightmare and as if to top off the effect the three witches stood in a semicircle just in front of him. Morgana, dark hair and corpse like pale skin, Morgues still blond, smirking and with a sinister amount of eyeliner in place and last of all Nimueh who had the added burn marks tagging on to her raggedy look.

"I hate my life." Merlin sighed.

-M-

Mordred was in a good mood.

It was a rare, rare, rare thing but this morning when he had woken up from a perfectly restful sleep, with no wicked snickering or stupid arguments he had felt surprisingly chipper. Admittedly it didn't show too much as he ghosted through the corridors, looking just as pale and creepy as usual. But if you had spent a lot of time with the boy you would have noticed the unnerving quirk to his lips and the slightly unhinged glint in his eyes that you would expect to find in mass murderers.

While he was asleep (with no interruptions for once) he'd had a wonderful dream. Emrys on his knees, forced to bow to an all powerful Mordred because he will never forgive nor will he forget…

Or was it forget forgive? It was of little matter. Mordred waved these thoughts from his head and twitched his lips in an almost smile. It had been a very pleasant dream, that was the point of the matter and it would probably keep him in a very good mood for the rest of the day.

He would deny it and if you told anyone he would never forgive- but as he turned the corner in to the hallway he gave a little skip of excitement and looked around the dark corridors with new more cheerful eyes.

Cendred obviously hadn't been one for taste, the sod of a king hadn't been much of anything really and now he was gone. Mordred added a little mental snicker before turning his attention back to the architecture. With this castle- and probably all of his castles- the over use of everything dark, depressing and evil became a bit dull and Cendred's love/obsession of pointy objects adorned the walls in various weapons. It was all very… tacky and annoying, much like the King himself really. Mordred added another mental snicker and patted himself on the back at the dead kings expense.

Still though as he looked on his surroundings with more cheerful and well rested eyes he came to appreciate more of the… evilness of the walls, it was all so dark and imposing, very much Mordred's style. Maybe with the help of magic the place would one day grow to its full potential of evil style. Mordred skipped in the air again looking around with excitement.

This time Mordred's lips almost formed a smile as he skipped on his merry way down the corridor towards the great hall, ticking off things in his head. Imposing brackets, imposing torches, another coat of arms, armor, armor, pointy weapon thing, armor, armor, scary prison chains, armor, weapon, armor, red neckerchief, armor-

Wait what?

Mordred frowned and stopped in the hallway. He'd already walked past the door to the great hall and couldn't see the inside from here and so simply gazed around the narrow hallway looking about for what he had seen. Turning he walked back the way he had come with the same check list.

Armor… weapon, chains, armor, Emrys, armor…

Mordred stopped mid stride in the hallway eyes going wide. He heard cackling from the great hall and knew what he had seen must actually be there and that meant…

His thoughts were cut off by a frightened, but incredulous voice slightly higher than usual with a hedge of disbelief to his words.

"You brought me here… just to ask me who my worst enemy is?"

Mordred stopped right there and then. He froze and growled and brooded as all of his good cheer was torn up and thrown to the wind because really…really, they had chosen that one time to actually listen to him? Mordred dropped his head and moaned, forcing back the very real tears that threatened to burst from his eyes out of pure frustration.

He hated Emrys, he hated those witches and their stupid cackling and there stupid plots –even if it had accidently been his but it was a terrible idea- Mordred hated everything which is why he shook back the tears and muttered with every ounce of spite and fury that could fit in the dark, evil pint sized body.

"I hate the universe."

Thats all for now folks, will pick it up soonish hopefuly before Merlin series 4starts tho I'm not promising :P

Hope you guys enjoyed please please pretty please leave me a review and tell me what you think :D Even if its to agree/hate my dislike for Lance-Gwen-Arthur thing. Would be great to hear from you!
Thanks for reading!

SQ