The Bonds of Friendship

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, only the storyline belongs to me

The curse of exams is too close for comfort meaning updates will be longer - but I'll do my best!

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A New Threat

Arthur's face was carved into an expression of predatory anger; his eyes blazing, a vein pumping in his tensed neck and he had to use every inch of will power to force his feet to continue striding down the corridor instead of turning around so he could beat that smug monster into a broken heap.

A light buzzing noise stroked through his violent imagery and Arthur drew his attention back to the deathly pale boy clutched to his chest. He was holding Merlin at a slight angle towards him so that the warlock's injured arm was tucked into his torso rather than limply swinging in the air like his other one.

Merlin? Did you say something? Arthur gently asked as he re-positioned his worryingly dead-weighted friend in his arms.

Yet again the same buzzing sound entered his mind and Arthur's concern spiked. He could barely feel any emotions, minus a near catatonic state and with Merlin's increasing lack of response the prince felt like the boy was dying in his arms!

Merlin! Merlin stay with me! Keep listening to my voice! Arthur desperately begged; tearing his teeth into his lower lip in an attempt to stop the water surfacing in his eyes. He doubled his paces and strode as fast as he deemed safe enough that ensured he didn't move Merlin too much; although his instincts were screaming at him to sprint through the castle until his heart gave out.

As he made a sharp turn around the next pillar he stole a glance down at Merlin; the boy's eyes were closed and his head was curved into Arthur's shirt, if it weren't for the gashing cut on his left arm and the fact that the blood had seeped into the prince's now sickening red tunic, he could be in a peaceful slumber. Just try and talk to me Merlin, focus on my mind, we'll get to Gaius in a few minutes.

Since the first time they had connected to each other's minds, they'd had an unspoken decision that Gaius wasn't going to be informed about any of the new findings. This self-promise hadn't been broken over the 3 weeks the two boys had been privately chatting, laughing and forming a bond so powerful that Arthur couldn't imagine how everyone else existed without such a relationship. But during the past weeks especially, Arthur had been mulling over the idea of telling Gaius about the connection as Merlin had become increasingly drained and tired. The servant may have thought that Arthur had been excepting his excuses of bad diets and lack of sleep, as the prince had been careful with his thoughts while in the warlock's presence, but Arthur knew that a lack of chicken slices and shut eye couldn't affect someone as drastically as it had Merlin.

That last sentence managed to trigger any remains of Merlin's consciousness and a forced whisper crawled into Arthur's mind, not… Gaius.

The prince growled at his friend's ability to be stubborn even when on the verge of life and his word's lost their soothing tone and melted into a command, I've allowed you to keep falling into this state for too long; we are telling Gaius!

He felt his tunic rub across his skin as Merlin moved and Arthur looked down to see his friend's cloudy blue eyes staring up at him, fixing him with a hard gaze that was backed up by a sense of determination that had somehow risen above the fatigue.

No… Gaius, or use… magic…force. Despite the weakness of his words Arthur could feel that Merlin was serious, and he could already see the rims of the boy's eyes swimming into their natural golden form.

For goodness sake Merlin! Arthur cursed, but he came to a halt anyway. It wasn't that he feared Merlin would hurt him, he was afraid that the boy would damage himself if he attempted even the smallest of magic in his current state; so against Arthur's desire and conscious, he would have to follow Merlin's shots.

The warlock felt his friend's defeat and he managed a small smile at his triumph. Knowing he'd brought some time, he allowed himself to momentarily slump back against the prince's soaked shirt and there was a silent pause as Merlin dug into his own mind, latching onto his core magic; letting it flow through his body and feed him the energy he was fighting for. Such practice had become a common used technique over the past weeks and it worked perfectly; although, Merlin couldn't help the flicker of doubt that appeared in the back of his mind each time he did use it, as his magic seemed to reach out less and less with each pulling.

After a couple of minutes, Merlin once again opened his eyes with less needed strength, and with a clumsy wriggle, he released himself from Arthur's arms; only to have them wrapped around him a few seconds later as he stumbled on his legs.

Merlin, you are being ridiculous! Let me just help you to Gaius. Arthur was now becoming exasperated with his friend's antics, and simply because the boy had achieved the action of standing, it didn't mean he was willing to just let him wander off as if everything was fine.

His stubborn friend shook the offending arms off and took a couple of steps away from the prince as if to prove a point, "Arthur, I'm fine. I don't need Gaius."

His voice still wasn't as full and strong as Arthur would have liked it, but he felt his argument slowly fading and Merlin must have felt it too as he smirked in victory. "Thanks for saving me by the way," he continued, swiftly changing the topic from the lines of his guardian.

Arthur's attempt to not be baited by his friend's gratitude and open smile only managed a few seconds of a hard glare before he dropped his head and signed; he would never understand how an harden prince could be defeated by a servant's wide eyes and innocent smile, I really need to work on keeping my stand around that boy.

"Yeah, well," the prince uncomfortably shook off the praise and stepped forward to place his hand on Merlin's shoulder, just try not to anger him again; I don't think me killing a guest will go down well with my father.

He felt Merlin squirm uncomfortably at his comment, but that was the difference between them; Merlin always tried to avoid violence wherever possible, whilst Arthur followed a motto of punching the nearest object, and in this case, Cirion would make the perfect punch bag.

Arthur don't cause any trouble with Cirion, I can look after myself, just let it go this time, Merlin pleaded, but his thought was followed by a shot of pain and the boy verbally hissed as his left arm shifted and a wisp of air passed over the cut.

Arthur flinched along with his friend and his eyebrows burrowed in concern; he fluently ripped another strip of clothe from the end of his tunic, gently taking Merlin's arm and attaching the fabric to the already soaked material wrapped around the cut; creating a scruffy arm sling. Now go and find someone to sort that out, I won't make you see Gaius but I will make you find another physician.

Merlin dropped Arthur's demanding yet worried gaze and shifted his feet with a wave of guilt; for all his friend had done for him, he wasn't being very appreciative. Sorry, but don't worry. I'll fix it up with magic, it'll be gone soon.

The warlock felt Arthur's suspicion towards his ability to currently do magic, but he quickly pushed the proof of his own uncertainty behind the metaphorical wall in his mind and gave Arthur a wave of confidence. Merlin sensed his friend's mental search straight away; his pupils dilated and he nervously swallowed as a gentle buzz tapped against his mental wall, he tensed as the force increased but luckily Arthur decided the boy was telling the truth and retreated.

Well… make sure you sort it out straight away then, Arthur still sounded uncertain but Merlin could sense his want to let him go and heal himself outweighing his desire to obtain factual evidence on the warlock's condition.

Merlin quickly grasped his friend's moment of weakness and took the opportunity to glance across Arthur's shoulder, sending waves of disbelief and wonderment at the boy. In natural response the prince flicked his head in the direction of Merlin's gaze, but on witnessing no event of purpose turned back to instead witness his servant's black mop of hair disappearing around the corner; a lingering vibration of amusement and apology in the air.

Arthur pursed his lips and rolled his eyes at his friend's independent stubbornness, the boy had just been lying in his arms half dead after a brutal attack yet he was prancing around the castle as if the whole world was perfect. He felt the compelling urge to follow the boy and bore him with a lecture on the dangers of singular travel following three days of service with Cirion, or simply tackle him to the ground and forcefully drag him to Gaius, but instead he settled on shouting, "If you get attacked, I'm not taking any responsibility!"

As Merlin's humour glided over his mind, he finally let the relief of his friend's safety pass through him and a current of air slowly drew from between his lips. Arthur had always known Cirion was a dangerous man, but he had never been able to harm him with his father around; until now, when a boy who wasn't under the King's protection had come into play. Cirion had found a way to strike Arthur without risk of Uther's fury, whilst simultaneously managing to target the King's rage onto his son instead; the man was becoming too clever for Arthur's liking, and he was worried that the next move in the game would cause damage beyond repair.

The slam of wood vibrated through the walls as the front door was purposely closed with a powerful force. Merlin whimpered at the piercing acoustics and then groaned at the increased weight of his head in its drained state as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Stupid Gaius," the warlock muttered with venom; his guardian's latest wake up method was starting to grate on Merlin's fragile temper. He'd just under gone three torturous days in a psychotic King's service and been slashed open by said King, yet the physician had still woken him with a headache for the past week. Despite words of sympathy and fresh full meals of comfort that had been offered and gratefully accepted during his labour, in these moments, Merlin decided that a simple tap on the shoulder in waking would be much more appreciated.

The boy rolled onto his side in an attempt to force his body out of bed, but he hissed in pain as the pressure fell on his left arm and he felt another round of energy evaporate from his being. How much more sleep does my body expect? If I close my eyes for any longer I'll simply exist as an unconscious servant!

Fighting the desire to allow his heavy eyelids to droop together, he pushed out of the bed using the minimal strength in his uninjured arm. He felt his legs crumple beneath him but he tilted his body to the left; allowing the wall to carry his weight.

Merlin groaned with annoyance at the amount of effort such a simple task had taken; Cirion's work had taken a harder toll on him than he'd imagined and if he were to ever admit hatred for any one person, it would be now.

His bloodshot eyes scanned the room for any sign of his blue neckerchief, but instead of blue, his sight found red. The dingy mattered bed placed before Merlin had changed from its stained white colouring to a cracked mud shade; and once he mind had focused on the unknown alter the warlock realised that the new addition wasn't mud, but dried blood!

With this thought, Merlin's gaze slid to his left arm; to witness the consequence of Cirion's blade dripping blood as if the cut had been forged only seconds earlier.

What…how… his vision blurred at the realisation of the extent of blood loss he was currently undergoing; the cut hadn't healed in the slightest. Merlin knew that the injury would still be deep on his awakening as he hadn't been able to heal it the previous night, proving his need for false conviction towards Arthur; but even if my magic wouldn't work to fully heal the cut, it should have at least stopped the bleeding! For goodness sake, my natural body should have stopped the bleeding!

His mind whirred with confusion and disbelief, causing the drained warlock to stumble towards the door, his arms outstretched in an attempt to grasp a concept of the spinning room. A rough texture pressed into his skin as his head rolled against the unexpectedly near closed wooden door and he allowed his eyes to slide shut as he reached inside his body for even a drop of energy.

Merlin dragged his hand up to rest on the door handle but with the lack of grip it flopped back down, pulling the rest of the boy's limbs with it and leaving him in a shadow minded heap on the floor. The hand that had dragged him down recognised a softer landing to the rest of Merlin's body; a soft fabric stroked his palm and his fingers sub-consciously clenched around the material, the vaguely familiar texture shooting holes through the boy's fatigue blanket.

With forced effort, one pale blue eye peaked through a thin silt of Merlin's eyelid and his blurred vision managed to draw the outline of the object in his hand, neckerchief…

The word caused a mental crash as his servant morals fought past the blood and energy loss, court room… open… presence, needed… as a form of sense started to return, the logical section of his mind clambered into light as well. The recall of the day and time brought with it the remembrance of the weekly open court room that must have already started.

Using his pure will, Merlin dug his nails on his hand that was connected to his fully intact arm into the dents in the door and pulled himself up. Taking a long deep breath the boy swept the knowledge of energy drainage to the back of his mind and felt his senses clear slightly and witnessed the room come to a halt.

See Merlin… nothing to worry about… he mentally convinced himself. The warlock, on deciding he could now trust his legs to move without collapsing was about to make his exit from the room when the rest of his brain cleared slightly, Arthur's going to notice the cut.

It seemed that the tiredness was affecting Merlin's ability to carry more than one train of thought at a time; glancing down at his limp red smeared arm he felt his mind groan at the strain of having to invent a productive solution. Though understanding that his protective friend would probably already be worrying about his late appearance, especially due to the events of the previous evening, Merlin didn't have time to do anything but grab an old torn up shirt and create a messy make-shift sling; ensuring that the dark material covered any signs of blood or flesh damage.

With a deep breath the warlock slowly opened the door and clumsily swayed in the direction of the court room; fighting the dizziness, blood loss and increasing worry that something unknown had gotten way out of his control with each heavy step.

The court room was currently filled with a mix of classes; from the homeless beggar and the scrawny mother of six all the way to the King himself. Uther sat on his fine carved throne with a plate of juicy chicken legs on his right side; taunting the hungry citizens of Camelot as they knelt before their ruler in hope of obtaining a grain of care or sympathy for the hardships of their lives and the problems that plagued them.

Arthur stood formally next to his father; every few minutes shuffling his feet or clenching his toes in discomfort and an attempt to continue the blood flow through his already stiff lower half. Normally he would be spending the drooling hours lounging in his own throne before the citizens but it seemed Uther was still punishing his son for the on-going refusal to break ties with a servant, and Cirion's morning news concerning Arthur's abducting of the manservant had given no help towards the situation.

Unsurprisingly the sly royal had shone in his version of the previous day's events; his humble rejection when Merlin was offered back under his command, the story of how he'd calmly allowed a mad-driven and uncontrollable Arthur to insult his honour before dragging the servant from his chambers, all along with the plead to not punish the prince for his outrageous behaviour. Arthur had known Cirion to be deceitful and manipulating, but on witnessing his own father, a wise and cautious man, be weaved by the slimy lies of the visiting King; it caused a stab of dread in his heart.

The only positive aspect to come from Cirion's performance was the fact he'd released Merlin from his service, Arthur felt a reassurance now that there wasn't the need to constantly linger in his friend's mind in fear of his safety; although he couldn't help wonder Cirion's motives for giving up the pale boy, Merlin had been a key threat and bargaining piece in their battle and it caused Arthur to worry that another move had been made without him realising.

This thought brought Arthur to the question of where Merlin was at the moment; he was awake, weak but still awake, meaning that he should currently be leaning against the far pillar making stupid faces in response to the laughable suggestions and answers Uther's advisors were sprouting out for the requests and problems that were being presented.

Suddenly, as if rehearsed, the young warlock took this moment to stumble past a hooded middle age woman entering the room. Turning and muttering hastened words of apology to the woman who was now staring at him with wide eyes, he clumsily backed up into a cold stone pillar, flopping against the hard surface in clear weakness.

Arthur felt his foot automatically move to take him towards his sickly looking friend, but when his father's murderous glare switched from Merlin to his own person, his logic kicked in and he forced his legs to remain frozen and his gaze to slide back to the woman at the entrance of the hall. Though the prince couldn't stop his eyes flicking onto the young boy who was slouched against the far pillar, one arm hastily bundled up in a scrap of cloth and his face as pale as a ghost.

The prince managed to keep his head forward but frowned in response to Merlin's appearance; gaining a puzzled look from the guard positioned in his eye-line, who self-consciously turned around to check if the royal was directing his expression at somebody else. He looks worse than yesterday, Arthur reflected; he couldn't understand his friend's state and along with sensing the dimness of his emotions, as if a blanket of fog had been cast over his mind, Arthur's confusion and worry was increasing double-fold.

Merlin could feel his legs trembling as the weight of his body seemingly became a slab of stone; he arched his back slightly to attempt to force the pillar to take his mass for him but it did little to help, I'm just so tired…

Forcing his eyes open, the warlock felt his head buzz at the realisation that the room was once again spinning, but somehow the image of his friend still came sharply through, allowing Merlin to take note of the anxious glances Arthur was not too subtly throwing his way. Right, I'm meant to have healed myself and be back to Mr Bubbly… Merlin firmly bit the inside of his mouth to force a bodily jerking reaction and managed to use it to push himself fully onto his feet; he also widened his eyes to try and show a form of alertness but instead it just gave him a comical shocked expression.

"And what is your problem?" The powerful tone of Uther Pendragon boomed, drawing Merlin's attention to the actual reason for being in the court room. The poor woman he had almost knocked over with his uncoordinated entrance was quietly stood before the King; her hands folded in front of her dark green cloak which was muddy and tattered around the base showing the evidence of a long journey. She held Uther's gaze with surprising confidence and a hidden smile that looked almost smug; this woman was definitely not from Camelot.

As if sensing Merlin's eyes on her back the woman turned her head to where Merlin stood and upon seeing her gaze, liquid hazel pupils with tiny strands of gold that only a fellow sorcerer would be able to distinguish; he could suddenly sense the waves of magic weaving off her.

The young warlock stumbled back into the stone support, mentally cursing himself for not recognising the sorceress on sight, I should have been able to feel her the moment she touched the castle perimeter! Merlin could feel his heart beat quickening with his mind streaming numerous plans, reasoning's and tactics all at once; his eyes frantically flickering from the new threat to where his oblivious friend stood, alone, unprotected, practically screaming "Come and kill me!"

Despite the still mild sense of logic shouting, I can barely stand and only have one available arm due to the fact I've lost the ability to heal a simple skin wound, along with a semi-amused voice whispering, how ironic is this timing, Merlin flung his body towards his friend. Unfortunately it was a pitiful action, meaning he only managed to land a few paces from his original point; collapsing against the neighbouring pillar. Gritting his teeth, he desperately repeated the action; obtaining the same result.

The boy was becoming increasingly panicked; he snapped his head around to where the woman stood, still staring at him with a gaze of curiosity and deep purpose. Oh who cares about Uther, this is getting me nowhere! Opening his mouth, while keeping his gaze firmly stuck on the target, Merlin drew in a sharp breath to shout a warning to the prince.

Wait Emrys.

Merlin almost choked on his own breath at the sound of a soft voice inside his head; it felt different, wrong, uncomfortable and not Arthur's. Staring at the sorceress, he didn't respond, instead keeping his body tensed in preparation to spring in the pathway to Arthur; however useless the dive may be.

Do not take actions before I have spoken Emrys, the voice chimed as it swept through his mind, I assure you, I will bring no harm to your Nexa.

The last word caught Merlin and his stance mistakenly relaxed as he puzzled on the unknown noun; my what?

A flash of confusion flashed across the sorceress' face, you mean you don't know what… she seemed momentarily lost which allowed a private thought to break across the mental link, this is worse than he assumed.

Than who thought? Merlin pounced on the woman's thought track, he didn't care if she knew his Druid given name; a sense of being out of the loop agitated him and currently he had no patience for subtle research, what are you talking about? Why are you here? Who sent you? What's a Nexa? The string of demands poured out of the warlock's mind; seemingly his lack of balance and magical ability was also affecting his normal control over the thoughts he would send out, killing his possibility to seem more knowing than he actually was.

The only evidence of the woman being affected by the mental stabs was a lingering blink; but the serene voice swiftly continued with its silky overtone, I am not the one to answer your questions Emrys, though I may tell you that by Nexa I was referring to the prince… Merlin frowned at his friend's new mysterious title, and that also I was sent here to warn you of a threat that has arisen.

There's a new threat in Camelot? Do you know where? His mind started to try and run through the past days to find any signs that a new creature or curse had emerged in the city, I need to find it before Arthur's safety is jeopardised… he felt the panic rise in his chest once more, it had already been proven that he was no match for any creature or being at the moment, if an attack arrived now, he would have to simply sit on the side lines and cheer on the knights, oh why can't this stupid illness just disappear already!

A sharp hiss pierced Merlin's fountain of distress and he barely swallowed down the moan it caused; he shot a glare at his attacker but she dismissed his discomfort with an impatient stare. Emrys I don't have much time; just listen.

Seeing she wasn't going to get a disturbance from the annoyed warlock, she continued, you speak of an illness that currently inhabits you; symptoms of fatigue, limb weakness and if dire, magical loss?

Merlin gave a slight nod, how does she know?

You have been watched for weeks now Emrys, but these symptoms are from no illness. Her voice steeped in depth and her eyes hardened with her words, your combinational spell was sensed by my master and though it has done much good, it is achieving more harm; the arisen threat I speak of is not a third party… it is you.

This accusation almost caused Merlin to shout out-loud denial; he could feel where the blood would be running to his cheeks in rage, if his blood supply wasn't currently leaking out of his arm. You… how… what? I would never hurt Arthur! Do you even realise who you're blaming? How can you…

I am not alleging that you will cause direct harm to the prince; her tone strengthened to drone out the fury of the warlock, but am speaking of the indirect consequences that will befall him due to harm that is befalling yourself.

Your spell is the object of your 'illness' and must be rectified, Merlin leaned into the sorceress' words, although having no proof of her explanation, he felt that she was speaking the truth; he thought he could hear some faint shouting behind her voice but he blocked it out quickly, you must go to the Caves of Animas; there you will find The Keepay. He will help you but you must act quickly as…

The sorceress was suddenly flung from Merlin's eye-line as two guards threw her to the ground; dis-consorted, he only just zoned into the redden cry of Uther Pendragon, "You dare stand before your King and ignore him, and instead spend your time staring at a lowly servant!" The man threw a murderous glare at Merlin; likely adding to his mental list of reasons to kill his sons servant, "What is it you want peasant!"

With a fire in her eyes, the woman shook off the guards and stood gracefully with an aura of dignity; lifting her head, she matched the King's gaze with ease and a pleasant smile, "Thank you for your time Your Majesty." Then with a light bow, the hidden sorceress glided from the room, leaving a befuddled yet fuming King in her wake.

Merlin felt his legs moving before he could start to comprehend his actions; all he knew was that he vitally needed more information from the mysterious woman. As he began to stumble towards the exit a familiar voice rang out behind him, "Yes Merlin, head to my chambers, they're in a complete state at the moment and don't you dare blame me for the mess again; it's your job!"

The warlock raised a questioning eyebrow as his friend hastily strode up to his retreating back, grabbing his arm and seemingly leading him out of the room on his approach, keep walking now, and skip the confusion, I just saved your head; leaving the room without dismissal to follow a woman whose angered the King is practically signing a death penalty!

Hmm… yeah… Merlin half-listened to Arthur's words, he didn't have time for this talk, he needed to gain answers, how was he in danger? What was going to happen to him? His mind started re-playing the entire conversation, attempting to make sense of the unexpected visit and warnings; you must act quickly…

He felt Arthur's grip suddenly tense just as they turned out of the court room doors, ah, I forgot you were there; Merlin mentally winced as his friend's emotions rocketed in reaction to the event he was now witnessing.

You're in danger? The prince's voice almost screeched, who was that woman Merlin? What does she mean? What's happening to you! Arthur swung the boy around to face him, his loud thoughts deafening his friend's tired mind and his gaze hardening, and what did she mean by magical loss?

As Arthur hissed this question he subconsciously moved his hand to grip Merlin's other arm which was loosely strapped up in its poorly designed sling; the moment his limb tightened on the warlock's arm, the boy let out a verbal cry of pain.

"Ahhh! Don't!" Merlin snapped pushing himself away from his friend and cradling his arm to his chest. Arthur flinched from the warlock as if burned; staring at the pained boy in shock. After a few seconds a realisation flashed over his face and his brow deepened in disappointment and anger; quickly he stepped forward and gently took Merlin's injured arm, unravelling the tattered blue cloth despite his friend's weak protests.

Arthur froze at the feel of a sticky liquid clinging to the palm of his hand when he removed the cloth, Merlin… what… the prince's stomach lurched at the sheer amount of fresh blood that was spread over his friends arm, and was still dripping from the cut of the previous night. The sight of the impossible seemingly new yet old wound visually answered his question; snapping his determined eyes back onto Merlin who was slumped against the wall, his tone emerged with the force of his title behind it, leaving no room for disobedience, we're seeing Gaius… now!

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