4.

"Ahhh…" the groan escaped Merlin before he could stop it, but he immediately clamped his lips tight so as not to make another sound. He didn't want whoever had him captive to know he was awake. It felt like his brain was trying to crawl through his forehead and his mouth felt like sandpaper. Trying to get his bearings by slowly opening his eyes to slits, he discreetly tried to make out where he was. Where was Arthur? Merlin decided he must be bound by magical restraints otherwise they would have been short work for him. If he could get his head to clear enough to concentrate, he was sure he could get loose. He just didn't want to make a move until he could ascertain the whole situation and figure out where Arthur was.

"I know your awake Emrys, so don't bother pretending." The gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

"What have you done with Arthur?" Merlin figured there was no point beating around the bush. He struggled to maneuver into some kind of upright position so he could see who his captor was but just ended up resembling a worm on a hook. Frustrated, he slumped back and lay still, concentrating on the bindings that trapped his hands behind his back. Something was wrong though, he couldn't feel his magic. It didn't help that every time he tried to use his magic the pain in his skull pulsed and felt like his head was seconds from exploding.

"Interesting how the first thing you ask is about the wellbeing of Arthur and not what is planned for you." The disembodied voice remarked.

"Why wouldn't I? He is my prince." Merlin replied defiantly, flustered that he couldn't see who he was talking to. Then to make matters worse, he was concentrating on staying focused as the pain made his eyes blur.

"Hmm… your prince huh?" this time the voice sounded closer.

"Well, the prince, that is, I mean… he is the future king, it is my duty to put him first." Merlin managed through clenched teeth. He really didn't like the insinuating tone in the voice. It left Merlin feeling strangely guilty.

"Of course, you're just being a good little servant, right?" more mocking. "So what were you two doing in my forest, little warlock?"

"We're on a hunting trip. Who are you anyway?" Merlin, tired of hurting and being trussed up like last week's banquet pig, was quickly losing patience. The pain suddenly intensified and he couldn't bite back the grunt that escaped him.

"What's wrong Emrys? Is something, bothering, you?" The sadistic note in his captors tone told him that whoever this was knew full well he was in pain and probably knew what was causing it. Maybe he'd been poisoned with something. Oh, great, wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake to his day. He had to figure out how to get loose, get Arthur, and get the hell out of here.

"Where is Arthur?" Merlin repeated angrily. Trying again, in vain, to break the bonds holding him.

"Don't worry Emrys, Arthur is fine. He just needs a little eye opener and we are helping him with that." Was the cryptic reply.

What the hell did that mean? Beyond frustrated now, Merlin screamed at the unseen figure, "Where is Arthur and what the devil are you doing to him?"

Meanwhile~

It was pitch black when Arthur opened his eyes. Either that or whatever had happened had rendered him blind. He wasn't bound so he stood slowly and shook the feeling back into his legs where they had been crunched beneath him. His armor, chainmail, and boots were gone. All he had left were his breeches and tunic. With his arms straight out he took several tentative steps until he found a wall. He felt his way around the room in the dark but couldn't find a door or a window that he could use to make an escape. The best he could tell he was in a solid round room because he never felt any corners. He tried yelling for help but after several minutes with nobody coming to the rescue he resorted to yelling expletives at the top of his lungs. Either no one could hear him or they were ignoring him. Either way he was buggered if he didn't find a way out of here.

As Arthur was pacing the room in frustration he suddenly tripped over a large object and went flying landing in a heap. "Bloody hell!" He roared into the empty space again. 'What was that?' he thought to himself. Arthur crawled on his hands and knees reaching in front of him searching for the object he had tripped over. His hand brushed something silky so he felt in the direction he thought it came from. It was disorienting with the utter lack of light. Feeling with his hands he found the soft silkiness of someone's hair attached to a head. Someone was on the floor and he had tripped over them. Arthur felt down the body praying whoever it was, was still alive because the only one he could think of it could be, was Merlin. Whoever it was, was male thank goodness, because they were shirtless. He would have been mortified to have come across the unmistakable globes of flesh that would have identified the person as a woman.

Arthur took hold of the person by the shoulders and tried to shake him, "Hey… hey, wake up. Are you alright?" A small moan escaped the otherwise still figure. Arthur sat on the floor and maneuvered himself so that the boy was propped up against his chest. Having no way to confirm his suspicions Arthur was just going to assume it was Merlin and for whatever reason he still hadn't come around yet.

"Merlin!" Arthur used the voice he always did when Merlin had done some idiotic thing trying to shock him awake. "Don't ignore me you lazy excuse for a servant! Wake up!"

Again only a small moan was all the reward he got for his efforts. Arthur, not being able to think of anything else to do raised his hand and gave, hopefully Merlin (otherwise he was going to feel like crap) a smart smack across the cheek.

The boy heaved up from Arthur's lap then flopped back down, "What's happening" came a very weak voice.

"Merlin!" Arthur would recognize that voice anywhere and the relief he felt was short lived because suddenly Merlin's body began to shake and convulse uncontrollably in his lap. Arthur, not knowing what else to do, hung on to Merlin for dear life. After what seemed an eternity, but in reality could only have been a couple of minutes, the convulsions subsided. When they did, Merlin lay limp and still.

"Merlin?" Arthur whispered tentatively to him. "Are…are you ok?"

"Arthur, I'm sorry I failed you. I tried, I really did." Merlin's voice was so weak Arthur had to lean down with his ear almost to the boy's mouth in order to make out what he was saying.

"What are you mumbling on about?...You're going to be fine Merlin so don't go sounding like your saying goodbye. You probably took a good knock on the noggin but you'll be fine, we just have to get you out of here." Arthur tried to sound calm, chipper even. But he didn't like the way Merlin had seized and liked even less knowing why.

"Arthur, I…I want you to know, I have always loved you. Follow your heart Arthur. Follow your heart and be the king that I would have been proud to serve." With that Merlin gave one last shudder in his lap and went completely limp.

"Merlin!... Merlin!... Wake up! Do you hear me?... Merlin!... Get up you lazy clot pole!" Arthur's voice had risen near hysteria and he was the one shaking now. He continued to yell, calling Merlin every name he could think of as he shook the limp form, but it was no use. He had felt the breath leave Merlin's body with him propped against his chest as he was, and he hadn't taken another one. Arthur felt something wet on his cheeks and realized he was crying. Arthur clutched Merlin to his chest and heaved a great sob as it dawned on him that he would never hear the sound of Merlin's annoying voice, waking him up in the morning again. All the things that drove him nuts about Merlin went flashing through his head and he would give anything to have every single one of those moments back.

Alone and desolate, tears silently falling, Arthur lay down and curled up next to Merlin on the floor. He wrapped the boy in his arms and cradled his head in the crook of his arm. 'This couldn't really be happening', was the only thought that he could process at first. Just this morning he was having a good laugh at one of Merlin's many fouled up escapades. An uncontrolled shudder ran through him as a sob that was like shards of glass tearing out of him, delivered up by his very soul burst forth. If Arthur was thankful for anything, it was the complete darkness and utter emptiness of this room. For how could he, the future prince of Camelot, have grieved so fully for his loss had he been anywhere else?

Arthur had no idea how much time had passed as he lay on the cold floor with Merlin in his arms, he didn't really care. Arthur felt like everything good in the world had died along with Merlin and he couldn't cope with his loss. He didn't know how. He continued to lie on the floor, quiet tears sliding across the bridge of his nose, drenching the silky strands of Merlin's hair, as the cold stones slowly leached the remaining warmth from his friend; until exhaustion over took him and he fell asleep cradling Merlin in his arms.

A/N: This is an edited version of this chapter. I feel I was too hasty in trying to update that I had left some crucial moments unspoken. So the last two paragraphs had to be revised. It wasn't a huge change as far as amount of content, but the emotion behind it I feel is better stated. I hope you all have enjoyed.