A/N: Hey guys! Another chapter is finally done, and it's a longer one this time! :) I would just like to take the time to thank my sister for reading through this tonight so that I could get some feedback before posting it. She was already half-asleep when I called her and asked her to read it for me, but she did it anyway. (Thanks for that).

Anyway, I have another busy couple of weeks ahead of me, and so the next update may be a little while. I'm sort of hoping that the length of this chapter will make up for it though...Maybe? No? Alright, then. Enjoy the chapter.

"There's nothing here," Gwaine declared, after only a few moments of surveying the debris that littered the floor of the physician's chambers.

Leon looked over at the other knight from his position near the shelf where the explosion had taken place.

"We have to search everywhere, Gwaine. Look for anything unusual."

"I have, and there's nothing here," Gwaine insisted. "Whatever caused this mess must not have survived the explosion."

"Maybe," Leon conceded. "But it could have still left a trace. Keep looking."

Gwaine sighed, still doubtful of their chances at finding anything. Whatever had caused the explosion had likely been some sort of potion or other kind of liquid that had been present in one of the many bottles or jars that currently lay smashed into thousands of tiny pieces. In which case they stood absolutely no chance at all of identifying it, now that all of the medicines had been mixed into giant puddles on the floor.

And in any case, all Gwaine really wanted to do at the moment was to go find Merlin to make sure he was okay. Gwaine imagined that the young man must be fairly shaken up over this whole incident if Leon's description of events was anything to go by.

The knight took another good look around the floor, then, using the tip of his sword to move the bits and pieces of glass around. He knew it would likely be completely pointless in the end, but he was willing to give it a try if there was even the slimmest of chances of figuring out what had happened. Because if this hadn't been an accident, and someone had meant to hurt Merlin...

Gwaine's eyes fell on a couple of the books that lay amongst the rest of the mess on the floor, and the knight frowned. Stepping carefully around the glass and liquid in his way, he slowly made his way over to where a couple of the larger volumes were, and picked them up off the floor.

Looking at them closely, Gwaine realized that they were a couple of Gaius' medical texts. Only they were quite a ways away from where they belonged on the other side of the room. In fact, he and Leon were currently in the only corner of the room that didn't even have a bookshelf.

Turning around, Gwaine scanned the rest of the room. None of the books on any of the bookshelves seemed to have been disturbed by the explosion. So then where did these books come from? Scanning the floor once more, the knight noted that, in addition to the two he held in his hands, there were five other books spread throughout the mess.

"What are these books doing here?" he finally said aloud, flipping through a few potion-soaked pages of one of the texts he was holding.

Leon hardly spared the other knight a glance as he continued to examine the medical supply shelf with a careful eye. "They're books, Gwaine. The room is full of them," he said, slightly exasperated.

"But what are they doing here?" Gwaine continued. "There are no bookshelves over here."

Leon sighed and shook his head. "Where exactly are you going with this Gwaine? You've been in the physician's chambers many times before. Is it so unusual for things to be a bit out of place in here?"

"Well, no," Gwaine admitted.

"Then what exactly are you trying to get at?"

Gwaine shrugged. "It's just a bit strange is all," he answered, snapping the book that he was currently looking at closed and shifting it in his arms so that he could open the other one.

Leon just shook his head again but remained silent.

The frown that had made its way onto Gwaine's face only deepened as he flipped through the second book. Then he stooped down to pick up another volume and looked through that for a moment.

"There's an awful lot of information in these books about magic," the knight spoke again.

"As physician, Gaius sometimes has to treat magical illnesses, too," Leon reasoned, as he straightened up, finally deciding that there was nothing to discover on the shelf.

"But Gaius isn't here. And there hasn't been a magical illness in ages," Gwaine said, more to himself than to Leon.

"Your point being?" Leon prompted.

"What are they doing over here?" Gwaine came back to his original question.

Leon sighed, now convinced that Gwaine was simply trying to highlight the fact that the task they were currently carrying out was a hopeless one.

"I really couldn't tell you, Gwaine," he answered at last. "Perhaps you can question Gaius on his organization of books when he returns."

Gwaine closed the book he had been staring at and turned his attention back to the floor. "I think I'll just ask Merlin about it later."

Leon rolled his eyes. "Fine. Now can we please finish this investigation so that we can report back to Arthur?"

Gwaine nodded. "Right. Let's get this over with."

Merlin's eyes fluttered open as a groan escaped his lips. It quickly turned into a cough, however, as he began to push himself up from where he had been lying unconscious on the hard, dusty floor. He blinked a few times in confusion once he was in a sitting position, before suddenly breaking out into a harsh fit of coughing.

"Burning. Something is burning," he thought dimly through the fog that was currently clouding his mind. He could feel the heat on his skin, taste the smoke in his mouth. He coughed again.

And then he remembered.

Merlin's head snapped up and his eyes immediately swept through the room. There was still a blazing fire in the fireplace. Only it seemed to have grown bigger since Merlin had lost consciousness, and it was hissing and spitting sparks of fire into the room which now looked as though a small tornado had recently passed through it. Tables and chairs had been upturned. A vase in the corner had been smashed to pieces. And the door to a cupboard on the other side of the room had flown open, its contents of goblets and other dishes having fallen to the floor.

But that wasn't all. Because Merlin soon realized with horror that there were long flames licking up the curtains in the window to the right of the fireplace. And another smaller fire was beginning to spread across the floor, making its way to where Merlin sat stunned, his heart pounding in his chest.

Without thinking, Merlin put a hand up and whispered the spell that he knew should extinguish the flames. A second later, his eyes turned molten gold.

And then the fire was gone.

The room was silent for several long seconds. Merlin coughed again as he breathed in a bit of the lingering smoke in the room, and he took a few gasping breaths as he tried to get some fresh air into his lungs. And then it occurred to him.

His magic had worked. He'd spoken the spell, and his magic had responded the way he had wanted it to. Just like it always had. Just like it was supposed to.

Merlin's hand went to his chest. He didn't feel as cold as he had before, although the tightness was definitely still there. In fact, even as he sat there in stunned silence, breathing heavily as he leaned against the bed at his back, Merlin could feel his insides being squeezed tighter and tighter within him.

Despite this, however, Merlin decided to keep going. He began reciting several spells in quick succession as he attempted to put the room to rights again. And, to his amazement and immense relief, it worked.

Merlin watched as the chairs righted themselves and as the goblets soared back into their places. Within moments, the room looked much the same as it had when Merlin had entered it. Except for the vase, Merlin noted with irritation.

"No wonder I'm terrible at healing spells. I can't even fix a broken vase."

Seeing no other options, Merlin simply swept the broken pieces of glass under the bed with a wave of his hand. He would just have to come back to clean it up properly at a later time.

But then, just as he was thinking about leaving, Merlin felt the cold returning to his chest. And this time it hurt far worse than it had before. Merlin found himself gasping for air as his insides squeezed tighter inside of him.

Unfortunately, he had no time to dwell on the issue. Because suddenly Merlin could hear quick footsteps coming down the corridor outside. And if he wanted to avoid a lot of awkward questions about what exactly he was doing in this room, he needed to find a place to hide. Now.

Merlin pushed himself to his feet, using the bed for support as he tried to find his balance. His chest hurt terribly, but he pushed that to the back of his mind as he looked around for a place to hide. Spotting the wardrobe, Merlin hurried over to it and only just managed to throw himself inside and close the door when the door to the guest chambers swung open and someone entered.

Merlin looked through the small crack in the wardrobe.

It was a young woman, a serving girl, who had entered the chambers. She glanced around the entire room, a confused look on her face.

"Now, I could have sworn I heard a crash in here," she spoke quietly to herself. She moved further into the room, looking around suspiciously. Her eyes stopped on the fireplace. No doubt she had caught the faint smell of smoke in the air.

"Please just go away. Go away and forget about it," Merlin was practically begging in his head as his chest became numb with cold.

Thankfully, the girl lingered for only a moment longer before shaking her head and taking her leave, mumbling to herself as she went.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the chamber door close behind her. He raised his hand to push the wardrobe door open then, wanting nothing more than to get out of this room himself.

But unfortunately, it was at that moment that, without warning, Merlin's eyes flashed gold again, his magic pushing itself out of his fingertips. He heard a faint sound, like the clicking of a lock, and the realization dawned on Merlin before he even attempted to open the door.

He was trapped.

Merlin pushed as hard as he could against the wood with both hands, but it was no use. The door was locked. His own magic had locked it. Had trapped him inside the wardrobe. And now Merlin was at a complete loss as to what he should do.

Because, quite frankly, the thought of using his magic at the moment to try to get out of this mess was somewhat terrifying. What if he only ended up doing more damage? Like setting the entire wardrobe on fire while he was trapped inside?

Merlin shuddered at that thought as he pushed up against the door again, this time using his shoulder against the stubborn wood. But the door didn't budge, and with this failed attempt, Merlin was getting closer and closer to panicking.

He continued to try several more times to push the door open on his own, his feeling of desperation steadily growing within him as the door continued to hold firm. No amount of banging or kicking or pushing seemed to do any good. And what only made things worse was the fact that his insides were once again like ice, and Merlin was feeling dizzier and dizzier with each passing minute.

With no other options available to him, Merlin finally raised his hand up in front of him. It was his last resort. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes briefly before opening them again and saying the spell aloud. A few seconds passed then.

But nothing happened.

And Merlin didn't know what to do.

Arthur let out a sigh after listening to Leon and Gwaine's report of their findings in the physician's chambers. "So you found nothing at all?"

"Unfortunately, no," Leon answered. "Not even a trace." Next to him, Gwaine simply nodded in agreement.

Arthur nodded. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised," he said. "Has the mess been cleaned up?"

"I didn't want to do so without your word on the matter, Sire," Leon answered. "In case you wanted to conduct another search."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, Leon. I trust that you conducted a thorough search. You may see to it now that the chambers are properly cleaned," Arthur responded, nodding his dismissal.

Leon gave a quick bow before heading for the door then. But Gwaine didn't move.

"Where's Merlin?" he asked the king, looking pointedly around the chambers as though he half expected to see the young man there.

"I don't know," Arthur answered, his voice turning slightly irritated. He knew that his manservant was trying to avoid him. The man was clearly hiding something.

"You don't know?" Gwaine repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"I sent him to go clean my armor a while ago. I haven't seen him since."

"You made him go back to work after what just happened to him?" Gwaine said incredulously.

"He's the one who wanted to go back to work," Arthur argued. "I was more than willing to give him the rest of the day off."

Gwaine looked like he was about to continue the argument when a knock came at the door.

"Enter," Arthur called out, thankful for the distraction.

The door swung open and in came George, a pile of freshly laundered clothes folded neatly in his arms.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sire. I simply wanted to drop off your clothing."

"That's fine, George. Just leave them on the bed. Merlin can put them away when he gets back from polishing my armor."

George frowned. "Polishing your armor, Sire?"

"Is something wrong, George?" Arthur asked.

"Well, I was just in the armory a short while ago, Sire. I took it upon myself to polish your armor while I was there. I didn't see Merlin, though. Did he only just leave?"

Arthur and Gwaine both exchanged a look.

"That idiot," Arthur said. "Where would he go?"

Gwaine just shook his head and moved towards the door. "That's what I'm going to go find out."

Merlin had never suffered from claustrophobia before. Growing up in Ealdor, he had often found himself in small, tight spaces in the caves he used to play in with Will. He remembered how there had been some tunnels that had been so small and narrow, that his friend had refused to enter them, for fear of getting stuck inside and never getting out again.

But Merlin hadn't been afraid. He remembered one long narrow tunnel in particular that had sloped upwards at an angle and required him to crawl on his stomach in the dark for several minutes until he would finally emerge into what he liked to call his "hiding place", a small little room with large rocks that served as perfect chairs for Merlin to just sit and think. The only way in or out of that room had been that small, narrow tunnel in the caves. Merlin remembered how he used to light up that tunnel and the little room with his magic so that he could see everything more easily. He'd make little balls of light dance around in the air and he would just sit and watch them for hours on end. And Merlin had loved it. It had been his own special place.

Merlin opened his eyes. Hardly any light at all now reached him through the tiny crack in the wardrobe. It was nighttime. He was now sitting on the floor of the wardrobe, his knees drawn up to his chin. And he was terrified.

What if he never got out? Nobody would think to come looking for him here. His situation was completely and utterly hopeless.

Merlin shook his head, his whole body quivering. "My own magic is what's going to kill me," he whispered aloud. That thought was somehow even more chilling than the cold that was mercilessly squeezing his insides and causing him to gasp for breath.

Merlin looked around the tiny, confined space he now found himself in. And suddenly it was as though the walls were closing in on him, squeezing him even tighter than whatever it was that was gripping his chest. There was no air in here. At least, not enough of it. Merlin found himself pushing against the walls of his prison, trying to keep them from closing in and crushing him.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. As his panic level rose again, he started pounding against the door, yelling for help in the hopes that somebody, anybody, would hear him.

But it was no use. Hardly anybody ever came down this way when there were no guests in the castle. The chances that anybody would hear him were nearly nonexistent. Merlin found his thoughts wandering to the serving girl that he had been hiding from in the first place. But she would be long gone by now. And likely wouldn't be coming back.

Which meant that Merlin was on his own. Again. Just like always. Only this time, he was truly alone. Because his magic no longer seemed to be his own. It was working against him.

And yet, if he wanted to get out of here, he was going to have to make it work for him again.

And so he closed his eyes and concentrated.

This time, Merlin didn't think about any spells or incantations. He instead chose to focus on all of that raw, instinctual magic that was all he had had when he had been younger. Back when all he had done when he wanted something was to imagine it in his head. Like the little balls of light that had lit up his little cave room back home.

Merlin imagined the door to the wardrobe opening. He focused all of his attention into that one vision in his mind. He had to get out.

Merlin slowly began to push some of his magic to the very tips of his fingers. He nearly lost his concentration, however, when he started to feel his magic resisting him, trying to pull back even as he urged it forward. It was a completely unsettling feeling and one that Merlin would be glad never to feel again. But he couldn't think about it now. He needed to focus.

A full minute passed in which nothing happened, and Merlin's desperation was mounting again. His magic continued to push back against him, and Merlin began to worry that even if he did manage to force it out, that it wouldn't do what he wanted it to do.

But at this point, it was a risk he was going to have to take.

Another minute passed. Then two. Merlin knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer. His body was exhausted. Fighting against his own magic was completely draining him.

And then, when he knew he couldn't push himself any further, Merlin let out a small, frustrated cry and let his head fall back to bang against the wall of the wardrobe.

And his eyes flashed gold.

Hardly able to believe it, Merlin sat up straighter as the sound of the wardrobe door swinging open reached his ears. And then he was scrambling out of his wooden prison as fast as he could on his hands and knees, gasping for breath as a fresh wave of relief washed over him.

He was on his feet in seconds then, despite his utter exhaustion, and hurrying towards the door. Wrenching it open quickly, he hurried into the corridor and away from the guest chambers, desperate for some fresh air.

He needed to get outside. He needed to call the dragon tonight. This couldn't go on any longer. This had to stop. Things had gotten far too dangerous for him to simply pretend that nothing was wrong anymore. Now if he could just slip out of the castle unnoticed and then-

"Merlin!" a voice called out from behind him.

Merlin's heart sank. "Not now," he thought, freezing in his tracks but not turning around.

The footsteps came closer and then Arthur was right behind him.

"Merlin? Where have you been?"

A/N: Reviews never fail to make me smile. And with the amount of stress I'm currently under right now, all reviews are especially appreciated. Until next time! :)