A/N Whoa, that was really hard to write. I decided to try my hand at some whumpage, not sure how I feel about it.

Starts with a Kilgharrah scene from Seasons 3 episode 5: "The Crystal Cave"

Keep in mind that, Morgause was injured in the Seasons 3 finale episode 13: "The Sword in the Stone(Part 2)." That's a major plot point for this chapter.


Chapter 5: A Clash of Magic, Part 2
Morgana expends prodigious efforts to save her sister. This pursuit proves vastly unfortunate for Merlin, and ends up have unintended consquences.

"The witch must die, as she should have done long ago. I will not save her." Kilgharrah looked down at the naive, young dragonlord. As Merlin recklessly abused his powers to command Kilgharrah, the great dragon knew that for all the kind, forgiving, selfless acts Merlin would ever do, it was this grave mistake that would come back to repay him twice over. "Very well, Merlin. But I warn you, the evil that will follow is of your doing, and yours alone." Despite his outward detachment, Kilgharrah felt great sorrow for the poor warlock who, based on a couple of really bad decisions early on, would soon be paying through the nose for it in spades of suffering.


Merlin awoke with a start. His eyes frantically darted in the direction of footsteps coming his way, and his raggedy breathing came in short bursts as panic seized him. They're coming again. He tried rolling off of his stomach and onto his back, but only managed to shift ineffectually against the manacles binding his arms and feet. Dragging his leg as far forward as the chain linking his ankles allowed, Merlin inched forward pitifully by grinding his knee into the floor and pushing.

With a screech, the door to his dungeon cell swung open. Cenred and his men loomed in the doorway, leering down maliciously like hyenas. Their torches flickered across Merlin's mangled and bruised face—his left eye was almost swollen shut and just beginning to purple. Heartbreakingly, Merlin continued trying to drag himself across the dank stone floor just to put a few extra inches and a few extra seconds between himself and his torturers.

"Get him." Merlin was able to reach a corner of the cell and fumble into a semi-seated position, with his back against the wall.

"Jus-just listen…you don't have to do this. I'm no fan of needless deaths…I'd heal her willingly if you'd let me." His normally bright blue eyes were now clouded with pain

It had been five days. No explanations, no mercy, no relent. Just an endless stream of vicious beatings. His right shoulder was dislocated and two of his left fingers were broken after being stomped on. Restrained as he was, he couldn't even shield himself from the torrents of violence unleashed upon him. All of it needlessly cruel and pointless. Merlin meant what he said—he had a gentle heart and merciful nature, he would willingly heal Morgause. But dishonorable people had dishonorable suspicions, and Morgana could never in a million years fathom such magnanimity.

Merlin choked as Cenred yanked him by his trademark red neckerchief and threw him face-forward onto the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Two guards grabbed his arms and began dragging him out of the room, causing Merlin to yelp in pain. Once in the hallway, the guards propped him up, expecting him to walk.

"Get a move on," one of them prodded his tender ribcage. Grimacing, Merlin slowly shuffled forward. Sensing that they were not about to begin their usual routine of kicking the daylights out of him, Merlin's adrenaline level died out and his legs quivered like jelly. Cenred kicked him in the back of the knee and he sagged in the guards' grip. The pressure this put on his dislocated shoulder was so agonizing that he nearly passed out. By the time he'd mildly regained his senses, they were in throne room of the Castle of Fyrien, Merlin recognized the surroundings. Morgause's face was still horribly disfigured, but she was well enough to be sitting up now, and she regarded Merlin's predicament coolly. The guards dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Cenred grabbed the hair on the back of Merlin's head and pulled him to his knees, making him wince in pain.

"He is not ready yet," Mordred said matter-of-factly, off to the side, now a young adult just shy of his late teens.

"Don't be holding out on us Merlin, or should I say Emrys? You have a tendency to do that," Morgana glared at him.

"You don't know what you're doing. None of you…you don't understand what you're meddling with. I know what spell you're trying to do, it's going to backfire. Just let me go, I'll heal Morgause," Merlin spoke earnestly.

"He thinks he knows more than a high priestess," Morgana laughed coldly, venomous hatred dripping from her words, "Drop your 'holier than thou' act, Merlin. You are a traitor to your kind and a coward. When my magic began to manifest so many years ago, instead of helping me you chose to poison me!"

Merlin stared at the ground. "I didn't want to."

Morgana…Mordred's voice drifted into their minds, soft and gentle. Don't be angry, he isn't one of us. We're your kin, and we love you.

You're right, Mordred, he isn't one of us. Morgause agreed. And everyone that isn't us, is an enemy.

The corner of Morgana's lip curled upwards. "I think it's time I gave Merlin a taste of his own medicine."

Terrified and desperate, Merlin made one more effort explain the direness of the situation, "I know that you have been using dark magic to extract magical energy from me to heal Morgause. But your trespassing has left remnants of your magic in its path. My body's natural balance has been upset and my magic is reacting aversely. Something bad is going to happen," Merlin broke off with a cough. He didn't think it worthy to mention that having these magical forces battle within his body also hurt, a LOT.

"Our prisoner is thirsty. Bring him some water Cenred," Morgana smiled at Merlin. The guards brought over a huge sloshing bucket and set it down in front of Merlin.

He didn't fully comprehended the situation until he felt hands grip his shoulders and begin to shove him forward, "No! Nn—"

Splash!


Arthur, Elyan, Percival, Gwaine, and Lancelot crouched in the shadows. They had found their way into the dungeons just as the guards came down to drag Merlin out of his cell.

"He was a skinny little thing, they had to refashion the cuffs 'cos they wouldn't fit over his wrists," one of them reminisced.

When Arthur heard Merlin's voice coming from the cell, pleading with Cenred, he gripped his sword so hard his knuckles turned white. Scuffling noises behind him however, revealed that Gwaine had to be held back lest he charge in right at that moment. Anger now burning in all of their hearts, the knights followed Cenred's men upstairs.


Merlin panted, water dripping off his hair and face. The guards held him down such that his nose was an inch from the surface of the water, reminding him of how easy it was to put him through another around of torturous asphyxiation.

"Not being able to breathe…HURTS! Doesn't it?" Morgana screamed. Merlin lifted his eyes slightly, and gaped at her in disbelief. Morgana had already done some terrible things over the past year, such as leaving him to die amidst a horde of poisonous Serkets at one point, but her level sanity was becoming unclear—there was no telling what this madwoman was capable of now.

"We can probably unlock the cuffs now," Morgause croaked.

As the guards put the key into the keyhole, several things happened at once. The doors behind them slammed open. Merlin's eyes flashed gold then became entirely gold. An explosion of blinding light flooded forth and whited out the entire room.


[1] Season 3 Episode 5: "The Crystal Cave"