Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Merlin characters.

AN: (any and all mistakes are completely my own!). I want to thank all those that left me a review! You guys rocked my world. They are what keep me writing the chapter so fast so here it is: chapter 7. I hope you'll like it!

- For the Love of Camelot -

Chapter 7

Uther could feel the tremble of his hands, he could feel the anger boiling inside his chest. His lips were pressed together and his hands were balled into fists, the skin on his knuckles having turned white because of the force he used. Daniel's words were not pleasing, not pleasing at all.

He had expected Arthur to find out about his servant, but not this soon. Uther hadn't gotten his answers yet, the sorcerer being so stubborn not to reveal anything! The thought alone made him feel furious. Uther knew he needed to act swiftly, however, and his gaze locked with that of Daniel's.

The King leaned forward, his hands resting on the cold wood of the long table stretching out before him. At the other side stood Daniel, looking almost frightened as he watched his King, but Uther didn't care. This was partially his fault after all. He had gotten one task: making sure Arthur wouldn't find Merlin. Daniel had failed him.

"Assemble fifteen guards," Uther scowled, his teeth clenched together as he spoke.

"Guards, my Lord?" Daniel's voice shook slightly. He already stood at the opposite side of the Council Chamber, but it was clear that if he could, he would make the distance between him and Uther even larger.

"Yes," Uther never liked being questioned about his decisions, "Knights are loyal to my son and Arthur is capable of winning them over to his side. I won't risk a mutiny because of one filthy sorcerer."

Daniel quickly nodded his head, swallowing heavily. "Yes, my Lord." He turned around and hurried out of the chamber, the heavy wooden doors falling shut behind him with a loud thud that seemed to echo through the halls.

Uther let himself slide back into his seat. He didn't like the situation at all. His hand lashed out, a goblet filled with wine smacking onto the floor. A large red stain covered the stones of the floor now, but there was no one who came to clean it. Uther was alone and this gave him the perfect opportunity to think. He couldn't just stop Arthur from saving his servant, no, he needed a plan. One that could not fail. He needed to show who was still King in this Kingdom and so Arthur couldn't be allowed to help Merlin.

After all, that warlock was their only chance of defeating Morgause.

-o-o-

Like Morgana had said, she and Arthur found Gwaine and Lancelot waiting on them at the back of the castle. They stood hidden in the shadows, but as soon as they saw Arthur and Morgana approaching, they stepped into the brigh sunlight. The two Knights were heavily armed as if they were going to a battlefield, but they should expect nothing less. Two swords hang from each their belts, daggers being hidden in places where they could easily be pulled in case of emergency and Lancelot even carried bow and arrows.

"I see you brought the weapons," Morgana said, sounding pleased.

Both Lancelot and Gwaine pulled out the spare sword from the belt around their waist. They extended the weapon for Morgana and Arthur to take it and both did so. Arthur, however, could only watch with astonishment as Morgana secured the sword at her side.

"What are you doing?" he asked her. He knew exactly what she was planning, but he couldn't allow it. She was not only the King's ward, she was a woman. She couldn't carry a sword or be allowed to fight.

"I said I was coming with you," Morgana smiled dangerously, "and I am planning on fighting as well."

"But-" Arthur wanted to protest, but Morgana didn't allow it.

"We have no time for this, Arthur," she almost snapped,having turned serious again, "and besides, haven't I proven myself to be trustworthy with a sword?"

Arthur couldn't help but think back to all the times Morgana had shown skills in fighting. Then again, she had been taught how to defend herself by her father before he had died and when she had come to the Royal Court, she had continued to practice. Not the passed few years, but still, she had some talent for it.

Arthur only nodded and Morgana immediately started walking away from the castle. It was clear that she knew where she was going, but all that Arthur could think of was that he had no idea what to expect. For all he knew there might be a dozen guards. Merlin might be too heavily guarded for them to even reach him. They had power, sure, but three Knights and one Lady wasn't that much power.

"Merlin," Arthur said, calling back Morgana's attention, "how well is he guarded?"

Morgana didn't stop walking, but in stead found them a small path through the dense part of the forest. All that they could see now were the hundreds of trees stretching out before them and sunlight barely made it through to the surface of the earth. Morgana didn't even look behind her to answer the Prince's question. "Three guards is what I saw," she answered, "one torturer."

"We can take them," Lancelot said, sounding sure of his words.

Arthur too felt a little more at ease now. He didn't want to kill anyone, not now that Camelot was on the verge of a war. There would be enough loss of men in the future. The Prince only sighed, however. Not once had he known a rescue to go down smoothly. Lives were always lost.

They walked for a while until the forest grew less dense again. Arthur could feel the sunlight on his face, but he couldn't enjoy it. He was too focused on the view before him. They had reached a ruin, white and old stones laying scattered before them. Arthur had always thought he knew Camelot rather well, but never before had he seen this place or had he heard of it.

"Where are we?" he heard himself ask. He hadn't truly meant to say the words out loud, but he was simply mesmerized by the sight.

"Have you never heard of the stories?" It was Gwaine who spoke. His hand reached for the hilt of his sword and drew it out of his belt, a sharp sound filling the air.

"What stories?" Arthur asked.

"They say this place is haunted," Gwaine explained, looking at the Prince, "that a long time ago, hundreds of people were murdered here and that their spirits still wander this place. People claim to have heard their screams."

"It were their screams they heard obviously," Lancelot remarked, he as well having pulled out his sword. "Uther must have used this place before," he examined his surroundings with care, "who knows how many people have been tortured here before."

Arthur swallowed heavily. This was a side of his father that he had never wanted to know, a side that he had refused to know. "Where is he?" he asked, turning his attention to Morgana, "where is Merlin?"

"Come on," Morgana simply said, "I'll show you."

-o-o-

It became more and more difficult to breathe. Merlin tried, he tried so hard to remain calm, to tell himself that not all was lost. TIme passed, however, and nothing changed. His arms were growing so very cold, his wrists still tied together above his head. He should be grateful that he was feeling the rope cutting his skin less, but all that this meant, was that days had passed already.

Those days had once been filled with hope, Merlin had been certain someone would come for him, but all that he now felt was lost and empty. Hope had been all that he had left, but even that was gone now. All that he wanted now was this pain to end. The pain in his chest, the cuts in his skin, the bruises and burn markes. None of them were healing, the torturer made certain of that.

A long and low sigh escaped his lips. It was becoming more difficult to stay alert, to stay awake and Merlin wanted darkness to consume him, he wanted to feel some peace at last, but as he closed his eyes, a rough hand grabbed his chin and lifted up his head.

"Stay awake," the torturer demanded. His fingers pressed deep into Merlin's skin, his nails scratching his cheeks.

All that Merlin could do was suck in a deep breath. He needed to prepare himself for what would happen next, he needed to try and block out all the current pain and he needed to focus on controling his magic. But even that was beyong his abilities now. If only his magic could help him, could break him free or even numb all the pain he was experiencing, but none of that happened.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" the torturer asked. He lifted his free hand, a shining dagger resting in the palm of it. The fire of the torches played on the edge of the blade and Merlin could clearly see the sharpness of the weapin.

"I..." Merlin licked his lower lip. He was so thirsty that it had become nearly impossible to speak. "I don't know...anything about..." he coughed and Merlin tasted salty blood in his mouth, "about her."

The torturer lowered his hand holding the dagger again and his other hand holding onto Merlin's face released pressure. The sorcerer's head fell forward and Merlin could see the skin of his stomach, he could see the multiple wounds and the dried blood. He could also see the dagger pressing against his skin.

"Don't know..." he repeated, wishing he could tell the torturer what he wanted to know, "anything."

The pressure of the dagger against his skin enlarged and it tore the skin apart with a burning sensation. All that followed was an agonizing feeling. Merlin didn't scream, though. He had stopped screaming a while ago. He held his breath, however, and a soft whimper escaped his lips none the less. Every muscle in his body tensed, which didn't help with the pain, but Merlin couldn't help but do otherwise. He went standing on the very edge of his toes, his back arched and his body pulling away from the dagger.

The torturer only made another cut in his flesh, this time a longer one, a deeper one. Merlin closed his eyes, feeling tears well up and he wasn't ashamed to let them roll down his cheeks. He barely even noticed that he was crying. Only one thought filled his mind: pain. Always pain, everywhere and never ending.

As the tension in his body grew, as grew the magic and Merlin's eyes flew open. He breathed in sharply as the magic released itself. The flames of the fire grew wilde for a long second and the guards stepped aside, startled by the outburst of the fire, but Merlin couldn't care less. Even the ceiling collapsing on top of him would bring relief.

If only he just died!

"Your magic can't save you," the torturer said, his voice nearly a growl.

Merlin, still gasping for breath, closed his eyes again as he could feel his body relax. He felt how the torturer moved away from him, but the young sorcerer knew that meant nothing. He would be left in peace for no more than five seconds and so he counted them in his head, forcing himself to think about nothing else but the numbers.

One. Merlin felt how his breathing slowed down.

Two. Another tear rolled down his cheek.

Three. If only he could just sleep.

Four. The numbness of his hands and arms were spreading to his shoulders.

Five. A slow sensation of calmness, of forgetting and remembering at the same time.

It ended with an overwhelming pain in his stomach, but never did he scream or yell. He pressed his teeth together, his lips becoming nothing more than two thin lines as he locked gazes with the torturer. Merlin refused to look away, wanting the other man to see his pain, his agony.

More pain.

The torturer was rubbing salt into his new open wound, making it burn.

More salt.

It was becoming too much and for the first time in hours, Merlin screamed. He screamed his lungs out, his hands and arms restling to break free, but of course, Merlin knew, that he would not be able to free himself. He had tried so a million times already and all that happened, was more pain, more scratching his skin or causing small burnmarks because of the tight rope.

And then something happened, something Merlin thought he dreamed, but hoped was real. He hadn't slept in nearly three days and so he couldn't possible be dreaming. This was true, this was actually happening.

The door of the room had flown open and three men and a woman barged in, swords drawn and shock on their faces. Their gazes looked around, but all rested on Merlin when they saw him. The young sorcerer couldn't believe it, he refused to believe it. This was a figment of his imagination. This was the lack of rest and sleep and food. This wasn't real.

He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily, knowing that when he would look again, they would be gone. And so he did, but nothing had changed. Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot and Morgana still stood before him.

AN: Another chapter is done! They made it! Arthur and the rest of the gang made it! All that they have to do now, is release Merlin and take him somewhere safe. But will it all go down so smoothly? You'll have to wait on the next chapter!

I hope you liked it! (And I hope I didn't put Merlin through too much...but I need him in a lot of pain and lot of agony...)

Thanks for having read this chapter!