WOW, it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry! Really I am! I don't think I told people reading this fic that updates might be a bit scant for a while, but I hope this chapter will be worth the wait, if only just.

Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews- sorry if I didn't get to reply to all of them. I very much appreciated every word :)

I'm going away tomorrow, btw, so again it might be some time before chapter 11. I hope this chapter will be enough to keep you going till then.

Chapter 10

It wasn't like Merlin didn't try to help, because he did. He had pleaded and argued and had done everything short of actually hitting Arthur in his frustration, but his mentor refused, point blank, to reason with his father.

"Merlin, are you completely stupid? Don't you understand that this is the law? You are asking me to change the law." He spoke slowly and patronisingly. He had pushed Merlin down onto a chair, so he could look down at him (it hadn't worked standing up, as Merlin was several inches taller). The effect was a slightly humiliated Merlin, and a smug Arthur.

"I know it's the law," Merlin shot back up at him, "but it inhumane. They're in cages, Arthur!"

"They're magic!" Arthur thundered, throwing his hands up in the air in his exasperation. How many times would they have to repeat this argument before Merlin realised that this was life? This was how things would be done from now on, "I mean, where have you been living for the past fourteen years, Merlin? In a hole somewhere? I would have thought that even an idiot like you would have noticed,"

"Noticed what?" Merlin cut in, unable to keep quiet, even though he was sure Arthur had been about to tell him.

"Notice that sorcerers are evil. Noticed that their practices have been frowned upon ever since King Ethan came into power. They are out for nothing but their own personal gain. Tell me you understand that, Merlin. Promise me that you won't go trying to help anyone who is put in the prisons here." He glared down and Merlin, hands on hips, but Merlin could tell that Arthur was genuinely worried Merlin might do something stupid.

"I don't think King Ethan is right. I don't think that all sorcerers are evil," Merlin said carefully. He was rewarded with a slap round the face. It was more painful than many of the other blows Arthur had delivered before, and Merlin's hand flew to the place he had been hit, his eyes wide and wounded.

"That is treason, Merlin," Arthur's voice was cold and steady, and he tried not to be affected by Merlin's hurt expression, but he knew he had hit perhaps a little harder than necessary, and couldn't stall the guilt beginning to creep up on him.

"It's not fair." Merlin replied, his hand falling back onto his lap, but the side of his face was pink from where he had been struck. Arthur swallowed, wanting and meaning to apologise, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead he said,

"I just don't want you to get in anymore trouble. Do you understand me?" Merlin looked down at his feet. Inside his head, a battle was commencing.

Innocent people were being slaughtered at this very moment, and he could easily be one of them.

Arthur had hit him.

Merlin wanted to help the ones being kept beneath the school. He could do it, he could get them out.

Arthur had hit him.

Arthur was trying to make him see 'sense'. Arthur cared about him.

Well, Arthur sure had a funny way of showing it.

"Yes." Merlin finally muttered. He heard Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

"Good." He said. Then there was an awkward silence. It stretched on for about a minute, before Merlin decided he was probably allowed to get up and leave now. He did so, not so much as glancing at Arthur's face, walking past him, and heading for his own little room.

That had been at lunch time. For the rest of the day, Merlin only spoke to Arthur when whispering instructions that had been written on the blackboard, which Arthur couldn't quite read. Merlin knew that Arthur half resented being read to, but he didn't complain. It made Merlin feel better to know that Arthur needed him, no matter how upset that made his mentor.

Arthur didn't speak to Merlin at all, but it was Thursday and that was the day Arthur talked least anyway. They had art on Thursday, and English. In art, Arthur shone, much like he did at sports. He sat, poised before the canvas, paint brush in hand, focused and silent. Merlin usually hashed out a painting which looked more like he'd done it with his feet than a brush, while Arthur produced things that were nothing short of masterpieces.

Merlin, more often than not, would give up on his own work to sit back and watch Arthur. During art was one of the few times Arthur looked truly at home. Like he belonged on a stool behind an easel. The only other place he looked so confident was when he was fencing in the grounds.

Arthur was silent in English for a completely different reason. He pursed his lips like he was scared of what might come out of them, his eyes constantly flicking up to Professor Carlton's, his hands clenched around his pencil. Merlin usually helped as best as he could, muttering correct spellings and reaching over to flick in a few well mean commas, but not today.

All in all, both Merlin and Arthur felt very glad when dinner ended and they could hurry off to their own separate rooms, without having to make any excuses.

Merlin fell face down onto his bed, feeling completely miserable. It might be a bit far to say that today had been the worst in his life, but it was coming pretty close. Gaius might have said goodnight, but Merlin couldn't be sure. He wasn't really paying attention.

Once the room was finally thrown into darkness, the sun sinking down behind the lake and forest, Merlin got to his feet and padded across the room.

It didn't take him as long to reach the Great Dragon's cave as last time, as the memory of his last visit was still clearly imprinted behind his eyes, and he could remember the exact route he took to get there. Under the rock and down those many, many stairs...

"Hello," he called, his breath fogging out in front of him, and a burning branch in his hand. He raised it so that the light illuminated the ceiling, squinting upwards.

"Hello, young warlock," the Great Dragon grinned toothily down at him, swinging slightly in his chains.

"Aren't you cold?" Merlin asked, distracted (there was a naked orange man above his head, after all, and it was freezing)

"A little. Dragons are good at keeping warm."

"Oh. Right..."

"I'm guessing you didn't come down here to enquire after my health, Merlin, although I do not doubt you came to see me for some other, equally admirable reason." Merlin hesitated, suddenly intimidated by the magical being. Last time he was here, he had been informed of his destiny (the thought still sounded ridiculous) and he couldn't help but fear what the Great Dragon might tell him. What he might know.

"Arthur hates me," he finally said, in a rush, his voice low and, even to his own ears, unbearably sad. The Great Dragon chuckled. Incensed, Merlin scowled up at him, "it's not funny," he shouted, "how can I help him when he hates me, or at least, hates my kind? He despises magic. And today... today he hit me, really hard, and it hurt. He was really angry, just because I said I didn't think everyone with magic wanted to kill everything."

"I do not believe that the Pendragon boy hates you," the Great Dragon stated calmly.

"What would you know?" Merlin asked, sulkily.

"Everything." Merlin would have scoffed, had the Great Dragon not sounded quite so sure of himself.

"Then tell me what to do, please. You have to help me make the prat see sense!" He cried.

"What is it you want to do, young warlock?" the Great Dragon asked, and Merlin was startled.

"I came for advise! I don't know what-"

"You don't know what you want? Come now Merlin! What is it that Arthur is trying to stop you from doing?"

"He... he doesn't want me to help the people who are being trapped. But some are innocent. Most are innocent. God, most of them are just like me!"

"No one is just like you, Merlin," the Great Dragon said, and Merlin could see that he was twisting around, trying to get comfortable in his chains, as though about to go to sleep.

"But, what should I do?" Merlin asked, desperately.

"Wait for the snow to melt, and then do exactly what you want. But there will be consequences Merlin. Severe ones."

"I don't understand, why must I wait for the snow to melt?"

"Because that is how much time it will take for Arthur to find it within himself to save you when you need him to."

"What are you talking about? Why will I need saving? You're not making any sense!"

"I am going to sleep now, young warlock. I suggest you get up to the school and do the same."

And just like that, the Great Dragon was snorting in his sleep, leaving Merlin confused and gasping in the cold.

Arthur lay on top of his covers, staring mournfully at the ceiling. The hand that had slapped Merlin twitched. Arthur wondered how he would ever make it up to the boy, even though it had been for Merlin's own good, really. He couldn't go running around trying to help criminals. He would only get himself into trouble and, for attempting to rescue a sorcerer, he could get himself killed. Arthur tried to imagine it: Merlin, tied to a stake, the fire being lit at his feet. He shuddered, convulsively. No, Arthur had been right. Merlin needed to learn what the limits were.

Still, today had been pretty horrible. Merlin had only spoken to him to help out with work, and it made Arthur realise how much of a difference the boy was making in his life. If Merlin were to stop speaking to him for good, well... Arthur might just die of boredom. And perhaps loneliness.

Speaking of loneliness... Arthur scrambled under his covers as the biting winds flung themselves against the dormitory windows, thinking of the Christmas holidays which were fast approaching. His father would no doubt be staying at the school to work, and Christmas day would be another quiet affair, with his mother simmering with silent anger at her husband, and his sister the only one to keep him company. He still loved her dearly, but she was changing, becoming more fierce with every passing year, and more beautiful. She talked to him, but often just to deliver some scathing remark. He never commented on this, and tried not to argue back, because he wanted nothing less than to lose her, not after she'd been the only one to stand by him, during those first few, difficult years at Camelot's. To be honest, all his time at Camelot's had been difficult, until Merlin. Clumsy, annoying, ridiculous Merlin, and his stupid big heart.

And then, it hit Arthur how he might just be able to make it up to the boy he almost called friend. He sat upright, barely able to keep the smile from his lips as he realised, not only might Merlin forgive him, but his Christmas holidays would become that much more bearable.

So, some more cryptic Kilgharrah for you there ;) Hope that was interesting enough to keep you waiting for next time. Please please please review!

Oh, and my goodness! I just saw Bradley James in this program called Lewis and I think I squealed myself into oblivion. It was too amazing 3 3 3