Although I said it before, I'd like to take a moment to say it again. Thank you so much for the support all of you lovely people have given my story so much. I'm really flattered that people seem to be enjoying what I've written so far, and I hope that stays the same.

With that out of the way, here's Chapter Two of Caged. I hope that you enjoy it and, to anybody who takes the time out of their day to read this, I truly appreciate it. I've still got plenty of chapters to write and each update will likely be a week apart from one another.

—Chapter Two—

The years were harsh and once they had finally come to a halt, Merlin had wanted nothing more than to escape. His cage had grown too small as his limbs stretched outward, transforming him into a gangly man. Perhaps he ought to have grown accustomed by now to the putrid grey gruel he was served for his limited meals, but every day it tasted worse in his mouth. From the very moment the door to his cage finally opened, he wanted nothing more than to run until he was short of breath. To pass time, his mouth often watered greedily at the thought of the meals he may indulge in and relief washed over his body as he imagined toppling into a soft bed of grass. That was the freedom he longed for as soon as he had clambered from his cage, but his lanky legs had taken him on an entirely different route.

With great concentration, he had recalled where the thundering voice had reverberated from within the castle walls. He imagined the commanding words still rung in his ears, coaxing him nearer to its source. After years of being prodded with sharpened weapons and ambushed by men who cared not for him, he was cautious not to be arrested by the guards once more and he slipped deeper into the castle with ease. It was a challenge, and more than once he urged himself to trace back his steps once more, risking his life in doing so until he found what he was sure resided in the deepest part of Camelot.

This part of the castle was far unlike the room he had grown so accustomed to. Back in his cage, he was granted the opportunity to look at his surroundings in the torchlight, grasping the dull colours of the walls and uniform of the knights on patrol. He'd caught snippets of conversation and emotion as one man would swap over his shift with another, and terrified though he most always was, he had never been entirely alone. His cage and the room were kept clean for the comfort of the knights, but these surroundings offered an entirely different tale.

It occurred to him, with its giant rock walls and eroding pathways, this was not unlike the caves he had visited before he had been taken prisoner. There was an unpleasant stench that lingered in the air, causing him to cover his nose with the back of his hand. No light flooded into the room, only that of the flame on the torch he'd taken the initiative to collect mere minutes ago. In the room was a distant rumbling, a lonely sound that filled him with melancholy. He squinted in the darkness, focusing on the large rock in the distance.

Merlin stumbled backward when it started to move. He completely tumbled to the ground when it started talking to him.

"What a pleasure it is to finally meet you, young warlock."

"Gaius?" her voice called through the cluttered chambers, dark eyes frantically searching for the man. "Gaius, are you there?"

She wiped at her head with the back of her hand, still visibly shaken by the events of the morning. Gwen had been by the side of her mistress for longer than she cared to recall, witnessing the nightmares that often plagued the sleep of the woman. The visions that stirred Morgana from her slumbers were few and far between, mostly without a significant connection between one another. Until recently, the maidservant hadn't grasped quite how much everything had started to change, each nightmare resuming from the previous night's, growing all the more intense as the days crawled by. Admittedly, Gwen had started to grow guilty. For the past handful of day she had rushed into Gaius' chambers, waking him at unholy hours or when he was in the middle of work. The man would drop everything without complaint, endlessly loyal as one of Uther Pendragon's most trusted companions.

"Gaius?" she called once more, anxious when her words were met with nothing but silence. Unconvinced that the physician would ever abandon his chambers at such an early hour, she took a seat on an old wooden chair. It almost toppled beneath her weight, its legs wobbling dangerously, and she made a note to fix it before the old man hurt himself. Her dark eyes scrutinised the cluttered room before they focused on a bundle of cloth upon the desk. Her brow creased in curiosity and she glanced quickly around the room to ensure no one would intrude, pulling back the dirty rag.

Her trembling hand whipped toward her chest as she gasped, eyes wide with shock. Though covered in a layer of dust, the words on the book were still clear enough for her to make out: A Study In Sorcery: Beginner's Guide. As if on cue, the door to the chambers were pushed open and she stumbled off the chair, smothering the astonishment that uncoiled in her stomach.

"Guinevere, is that you?" Gaius asked, squinting as he stuffed his hands behind his back, his movement accompanied by a suspicious sound of jangling. "What-ever brings you here?"

"I… I… Gaius," she stuttered, unwilling to believe the thoughts that spun through her mind. He was too good, too loyal to practice magic under the very nose of Uther Pendragon. "I was just—"

"You seem troubled, my child," the man observed, pushing his spectacles up his nose. "What concerns you?"

"I was just wondering where you've been," Gwen managed to choke out, edging away from the man as he stepped closer to her.

"Has Morgana had another nightmare?" he inquired, and without waiting for an answer, shuffled over to his cabinet of potions. "I fear my remedies don't seem to be doing their job."

"No, she…" the maidservant shook her head, throwing the cloth back over the book before Gaius could see she had unveiled it. "Her nightmares are getting worse."

"I dreaded you would say something along those lines," Gaius said. "I fear if I give her too strong a potion, the side effects may weaken her considerably. It is a risk we cannot take. Uther would never allow it."

"Morgana doesn't wish for another potion," she cut in before he could say anymore. "I believe she would only like to confront Arthur. She saw him die in her nightmare overnight. I've never seen her so afraid." Now it seemed that Gwen found that she could relate all of a sudden.

Gaius snapped his head upward, the beginnings of a frown on his face. He tilted his head upwards, studying the maidservant from afar, and hummed in thought. "I believe it may be best not to worry Arthur. As Crowned Prince, I believe he may have quite enough on his plate at present."

"Shouldn't that be a choice for Morgana to make?"

"I suppose you're right," the physician considered. "Nevertheless, I fear that if Arthur is made to panic too early on, Camelot will be at greater threat of an attack."

"Of course, Gaius." Gwen bowed her head respectfully and turned toward the door. "But it would put her mind at ease if she was sure that Arthur will be kept safe."

The two exchanged no more words as Gwen walked toward the door, unwilling to swallow the lump that had settled in her throat. Her mind was a haze, no longer clear of what her true intention had been upon arriving at the physician's chambers. The fear that coursed through her at the thought that Gaius, of all people, had smuggled a book of magic was overwhelming. If ever the man were caught, Gwen had no idea what she would do with herself. A sigh escaped her lips as she made to depart, longing for nothing more than a damp cloth to be pressed against her forehead and a long rest. Before she opened the door, however, the maidservant turned back to face the physician.

"In her nightmare, she said there was a person called Merlin. I don't know whether or not he exists, but Morgana believes that he'll bring about Arthur's death." With that, Gwen gave a sharp curtsey and slipped out of the chambers, not looking back in time to see the look of utter disbelief that had taken over Gaius.

No matter how hard she may have willed them to cease, the tears that trailed down her pale cheeks were reluctant to slow. Her entire body trembled with fear as she stumbled through the castle in her night gown, fear on her face as she searched for Arthur. The people she tore past offered her quizzical glances or else tried to capture her attention by clinging to her arm, but Morgana was strong. She was able to shake herself from their tight grips as she carried on, swooping through doors and corridors.

The fear that settled inside her flourished with every minute it took to track him down. She grew desperate, demanding that guards and knights and commoners inform her of the Prince's whereabouts. They merely offered identical shrugs and presumed he was in his bedchambers, so Morgana grew infuriated with them. It wasn't possible that not a single person in the castle knew where Arthur had disappeared to.

"Morgana?"

She turned on her heel, dangerous aggravation flaring in her eyes as she faced Gwen. Her expression softened only a little at the woman's unease, but she strode up to her maidservant nevertheless.

"Where is Arthur?" she demanded, voice sharp enough for Gwen to hold her posture ramrod straight in shock. "I've searched everywhere, and he's nowhere to be found."

"I thought I instructed that you stay in bed, my lady," Gwen pointed out. "Arthur will show up eventually. You can discuss this matter with him later."

"I will do no such thing," Morgana snapped. "His life could be in peril even as we speak. We have to find him now. If we don't—"

"—then he'll be even safer than he is now," her maidservant offered. "I spoke to Gaius and he's right, Morgana. He believes that if we worry Arthur about this now, he may struggle with his duties as Crowned Prince."

As though she longed to say something more, Morgana parted her lips only to purse them but a moment afterward. Although the fear seemed to tug around her throat, a wave of calm washed over her as she took hold of her maidservant's hands and squeezed them between her own.

"You're right, of course. I should thank Gaius later for his help." She smiled and gave Gwen a polite nod. "Of course, since I can't tell Arthur, there is one course of action we can take." At Gwen's quizzical look, she continued. "We must inform Uther immediately."

And even if just for a second she stole a glimpse of the disbelieving shock that took over Gwen, Morgana opted to ignore it. As long as Arthur was protected, Camelot would be safe once more.

Slender fingers brushed the soot from his shirt as his knees burned with pain. He knew that they had grazed the uneven ground and that blood seeped from the fresh wound, but he barely spared a thought for the agonising ache otherwise. Given that Merlin had witnessed very little in his life, anything as simple as a rat or a cobweb had intrigued him in the cage. To say that he was surprised to have encountered a dragon not even an hour after he had escaped was an understatement.

The truth of the matter was that Merlin considered his eyes to have deceived him. Any man would likely delve into a state of delirium having spent so long cooped up in a space where he could barely move a limb. There was also that insignificant detail that he had believed dragons to be beasts that appeared only in stories, which made him wonder whether or not he had really escaped at all.

"You seem surprised to see me," the dragon chuckled and Merlin, if not for the fact he was careful to keep his composure, would have stumbled backward yet again at the sound.

"You could say that," he managed after huffing in surprise. "Are you real?"

Merlin watched, eyes wide with anticipation, as the dragon readjusted its position. It spread its wings by its side, as though stretching out the pain. After a deep inhale, the beast breathed a bout of fire through its mouth, the flame so close to Merlin that he could feel the heat. It was reassurance enough that he was not caught in the middle of some strange dream.

"I am as real as you and the cage you were once trapped in," the dragon explained, sitting down once more. "And quite like you, Uther captured me several years ago. I have been in this cage for longer than you have been a prisoner of Camelot, young warlock."

"For longer than—" his lips parted in surprise, eyebrows high up on his forehead. "How is it that you're still alive, if you say you've been trapped for longer than I have?"

"I am a creature of magic, as are you." As the beast spoke, Merlin noticed the way its tone almost shook the entire cave, its voice reverberating off every wall within. Merlin shuddered and glanced uneasily over his shoulder, wondering whether anybody else might hear. "And like you, my life has been hanging on a thread. Without our powers, the two of us would have suffered our deaths at the hands of Uther Pendragon."

At the words of the dragon, memories flashed before Merlin's eyes. He remembered little of his childhood years, of the freedom that had once been a part of his life. Yet there were small details he willed himself to remember after all this time, the stories his mother had once told him of a king who cared not for Ealdor. His brows knitted together, desperate to grasp why a man who ruled a different kingdom would have grown so willing to hunt down a child. When the answer did not come, Merlin looked toward the dragon.

"Something is troubling you, young warlock."

"There is something," Merlin nodded. "Why did Uther capture me? How did he know I even had magic?"

Merlin stared as the beast observed him, its eyes filled with a world of understanding and sadness. The beast's mouth fell open, as though prepared to give him the answer, but in the end it shook its head. "That, I cannot answer because I do not know why." Merlin could feel his heart plummet in his chest. "Uther is a cruel man, determined to rid magic from this world. But that does not mean the answer to your question will remain unknown forever."

"So there is an answer?" he asked, almost begged, but the dragon bowed its head in remorse.

"Perhaps it is up to you to find that out. But you cannot go about this task alone, Merlin. You must search in this castle for the one who will help you to escape Camelot. But heed my words, he must not find out about your magic."

"Who is the one that you say will save me?" Curiosity and excitement mixed together inside of Merlin, but neither could rid the anxiety that coursed through his veins. The longer he lingered, being instructed by the dragon, the more likely it seemed that someone would find him.

"Before I tell you that, you must do something for me." The dragon's eyes lingered on the chains it was bound to and in an instant, Merlin felt his stomach drop. "Your escape from the hands of Uther depends on more than just your saviour alone. In order to fulfil your destiny, you must free me. With my help, you'll have time enough to escape from the city walls without Uther or the knights noticing."

Merlin didn't know where it came from, the part of him that was screaming to do anything but help the dragon. The anger and loneliness that he had suffered throughout the years of being trapped in a cage was paramount, and though he would never follow through with his plans, he envisioned many times that Camelot should crumble. As it was, guilt found a home inside his stomach whenever he thought of the people, innocent villagers who played no part in his capture. He knew that the dragon was likely to be far less merciful than he and with those thoughts, a rejection was at the tip of his tongue.

"Tell me what I must do," he said instead, sensing the pride that filled the dragon.

"Those chains are powerful, crafted for the very purpose of holding a creature of my size and strength. You will need magic to break them," the dragon guided. "Your magic may be weak, but it is enough to fulfil this task."

"And after I've freed you?" Merlin asked.

"You will see, young warlock." The dragon stood up once more, anticipating the moment when Merlin would step down and do as it had asked. "You will see."

And maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was that his eyes had grown weary in the years of seeing so little, but Merlin could have sworn that he saw the beast smile.

Anger transformed into fear as he trudged through the castle, caring not for the innocent people he shoved out of his pathway. Teeth clasped together, he wondered when the guards had grown so careless. Camelot was renowned for the strength of its people and yet they seemed unable to drive intruders away or keep prisoners within their walls. As he went on, he considered that it wasn't as though he wanted Merlin to be caught. All the same, not a single person knew of the prisoner's whereabouts and the Prince could only hope that this would be a one time incident, lest dangerous enemies be let loose into the world.

"Arthur!"

The voice that growled from behind him sounded sinister, and at this point, he wanted nothing more than to tear off in the opposite direction. Instead, he chose to spin on his heel, careful to hide the bout of loathing and worry that seemed to have conquered him. His father looked even more menacing than Arthur felt, and he realised he was too late. The man, too, had noticed that there was an empty cage deep within the castle and a missing prisoner.

"You must go to your chambers immediately," the king instructed. "You are far safer in there."

"My chambers?" Arthur spat. "Father, I'm Crowned Prince. Now is hardly the time to be hiding away from danger!"

"It's for you own safety." Uther did not hold back the glare in his eyes as he swiftly strode to his son, clasping his shoulders with severe tightness. The Prince tried to shake the man off him, but his attempts were futile. It was hardly a surprise to know the man was stronger than him. "I have enough reason to believe that your life is in mortal danger, so you will do as I command. You must go to your chambers."

Unsteady fingers grasped onto the rock for support. How the beast before him expected for him to reach the chains alive baffled Merlin. The chances Merlin had to stand up, let alone walk, had been few and far between. Every time he was released from his cage, he was only granted permission to take a few steps forward before having weapons of all kinds brandished at him, which almost always ended in him crashing to the floor. His limbs were weak and uncertain, and even the journey to the dragon's cave had been a challenge. Merlin wondered how he would ever make it out of the castle alive.

"You must learn to trust in yourself, Merlin. Think back to the days when you once wandered freely."

Every part of him wanted to proclaim that it was hard enough just remembering just how happy he had been in those days, to remind the dragon they were all but a distant memory. But now was not the time for him to come across as weak and rather than ignoring the words, he gripped tighter yet to the rock and used every ounce of his strength to haul himself toward the dragon.

"Can't you give me a little help?" Merlin asked through gritted teeth, but the beast merely chuckled. "I'll take that as a no."

"You need to get used to your body once more, Merlin," the dragon explained. "If you do not do this, then I will not believe you're ready to make this journey."

If I ever make it up to this dragon, Merlin thought bitterly, I'll kill him. But at the moment the thought occurred to him, he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in regret. In many ways, the creature was lucky in comparison to him. While Merlin could hardly toss and turn in his cage, the dragon had the chance to spread its wings and fly about the cave to some extent. But it had been trapped for longer than Merlin ever was, simply for being a creature of magic. The thought urged him to work harder yet, fingers, legs and arms screaming in protest until he finally made it to the large chains.

For just a moment, he collapsed onto the uneven ground, feeling more uncomfortable than he ever had before. He half expected the dragon to urge him to carry onwards, but this time, the beast remained patient until Merlin caught his breath once more.

"Lie still for me, young warlock. Close your eyes," it requested. "I will grant to you the power you need to break these chains."

With not enough breath in his slender body to argue, Merlin did as he was told. He could hear the dragon as it shuffled around to face him, surely staring at him with gratitude. A gushing sound filled his ears and Merlin became all too aware that the dragon was inhaling before warm breath tickled every part of his body. It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced, as though life itself as being poured into his every nook and crevice. He could feel the magic pumping through his veins, awakening him to a whole new world of strength. Merlin expected the sensation to disappear when the dragon finished, but instead it lingered.

"I have given you the power that you need to free me," the dragon explained and Merlin opened his eyes, watching it unfurl its wings in anticipation. "And now, I will grant you the knowledge that you wanted. The one who shall free you."

"Go on?" Merlin prompted, sitting upright and flexing his fingers, making use of the energy while he still had it.

"Arthur Pendragon," the beast answered quickly. "Son of Uther Pendragon himself. The one who promised to free you a decade ago. It is he who is destined to turn against his father to save you, and it is he who shall bring peace to this kingdom once more."

"Arthur?" Merlin frowned in disbelief. "You've got to be joking. He's no different to my father. If he'd wanted to free me, he had the chance to do that all those years ago."

"Perhaps," the dragon nodded. "Or perhaps not. That is your side of the story, but I believe Arthur's is an entirely different matter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Merlin asked, but found himself unsurprised when the dragon sidestepped the answer.

"The chains, young warlock," the beast shifted its gaze toward the metal once more, nodding as though in encouragement. "You must hurry. I can sense that Uther's men are on the move, and they are wise. After all this time, they will still think to check my dwellings."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

The dragon's lips curled upward once more. "You must believe in yourself."

In his chambers, the old man made ready to betray the King who he had served for more years than he cared to count. He had experienced much over the past few decades, feeling every emotion in the book and more, but that did not make him blind from pain and hurt. Every object that Gaius picked up, he was reminded of a betrayal he had committed. With each item he slid into the small bag, he remembered the hurt he had caused and experienced, and how he thought that making a home for himself in Camelot would keep him from angering the people who surrounded him.

As Gaius shuffled around the room, packing up his life's work into what few bags he ought to take with him, he wondered how and why he had agreed to Hunith's request. Every person he had upset came with but one consequence: losing their trust, friendship and loyalty. Hunith was just the same as those people, would be the easy way out. Gaius shook his head, trying not to think of the consequences he would face if he were caught and the death sentence that would surely face him. He had grown old enough not to fear death, but he was certainly wary of the pain that would lead to it.

He picked up the crumpled note he had received a day earlier and inspected the writing. He couldn't quite explain why he was so confident that Merlin was of greater importance than his life. Perhaps it had something to do with Uther's insistence of capturing him when he was but a child, or of the darkness that had followed the boy's imprisonment. Maybe it was a combination of the two and so much more, but whatever the answer, Gaius knew that it was Merlin to whom he must be loyal.

When he'd packed the last of his belongings that he needed to take, Gaius patted the bag, deep in thought. He knew he could not be the one to free Merlin from the castle. He had smuggled people from Camelot countless times before, but that was more than twenty years ago. He was an old man now, lacking the stealth and haste he had once possessed. If he left now, under the guise that he wished to leave Camelot for his own safety, then he could set off on a journey to find the boy Hunith had asked him to protect.

The last thing that Gaius picked up was a long stick to support him, for beneath the heavy bags he would hardly be able to hold himself upright.

With one last look at the room that he may not see again, and no expression on his face, Gaius left, unaware that a pair of guards would soon come to stand outside his empty room.

It was useless even attempting to defy his father's wishes. The man, so confident that his actions were in his son's best interest, had refused to listen to reason. Arthur had tried to defend himself, even struggled to explain why it was imperative that he offered his assistance (if only to drive the knights in the complete opposite direction of the escaped prisoner), but the King had given the command he had hoped his father would not; that the guards restrain him and force him into is chambers.

Unwilling to be humiliated in front of his father and knights, Arthur had given in and proclaimed he would return to his chambers, however much he longed to disobey the orders given to him. He could sense that his father had sent one of the guards to follow him and ensure he returned safely to his chambers and Arthur wanted to turn around and scold the man, but instead he continued on forth, feet thumping against the floor as he walked.

In barely any time, he reached the large doors that lead to his chambers. Bitterness conquered him when he drank in the sight of the two guards standing vigil either side of the entrance. At once glance of them, a frown broke through his expression and he pointed a threatening finger at them.

"I don't care what my father has asked you to do, but you are to leave your positions at once," Arthur growled. "Stand guard outside the houses of the people who don't have the resources or the strength to protect themselves."

"Sire, the king has instructed—"

"Did you not hear what I said?" he asked, voice menacing. "We have a Court Physician. My father may deem him insignificant, but I wholeheartedly disagree. His life is valuable and without him, you would be nowhere. If the city is on high alert, he ought to be protected. Now go."

"Sire, I really don't—"

"Go," he hissed, and was relieved to see the guards nod, regret on their faces. Later, Arthur would ensure that they avoided punishment, but for now the most he could do was watch for any signs of the prisoner from his window. He charged into his room, prepared to lift up any heavy object that his hands could find and to throw them, to unleash his rage on the unwitting inanimate objects.

Instead, he went hurtling into the figure of a gangly young man, who promptly fell flat on his backside beneath Arthur's heavier build. Arthur gasped, rolling off the man hastily before his mouth fell open in surprise.

"Merlin?"

But instead of offering him an explanation, the pale man simply swayed on the spot as soon as he stood up, only to come toppling forward once more. Arthur grabbed hold of him before he could collide with the ground, and wondered how on earth he had ended up with a prisoner in his own quarters.