Update from me: I am now on Christmas break! *Victory Dance!*

Response to 'guest' review: I'm sorry you feel that Merlin is OOC. I've been trying to stay true with all the people in this story. Hope it doesn't ruin the story for you, though!

Merlin

Sudden, hot pain splashes against me, jolting my body into consciousness. The burning feeling is gone too soon, however, as the cold wind attacks my frame once again. I splutter against the unwelcome sensations, shaking my head to regain my focus. My eyes fall on the bucket in Morgana's hands, which is steaming slightly. She must have heated water and attacked me with it.

"So, Merlin," Morgana's voice sneers, "how was the night in the cold?"

I blink the lasting sleep from my eyes, gaze resting on her face. "Cold."

"Yes, well, there's a reason for that."

"What do you want?" I ask, tired of hearing her snide remarks.

"You begin your new job today!" She responds, false excitement in her voice.

"If you remember, I don't take orders from you-"

With surprising speed Morgana fills the bucket again, and my skin burns with the sudden presence of the boiling hot water. Luckily I looked away at the last moment, so it strikes the side of my face instead on head-on. Still, it hurts. A lot.

"Yes, you do," she says with force. "And as you have already seen, if you don't, you get punished."

I laugh shakily in the cold, breath visible. "I've kind of grown used to punishments already. I don't see how you expect me to obey you, because I never will. I'm not a dog who can be taught new tricks."

"No," Morgana responds, looking at me intently. "But you see, dogs and humans have something in common. After enough pain they begin to plead, and then obey."

"Yeah, well," I say stubbornly. "I'm different."

Morgana motions to a group of guards that I hadn't noticed earlier. Two of them come up behind me, shoving me down onto my stomach. I fight back, but my body feels so weak right now that I am not surprised when a few punches subdue me.

Another man comes in front of me with a long metal rod, ending in a disc with intricate designs cut into it. I am no fool. I know exactly what this is.

I glare daggers at Morgana, renewing my attempts to pull away from the guard's grasps. With a flash from the witch's eyes the brand heats to become white hot. My left arm is forced forward and instantly pinned down, inside up.

The man with the rod brings it towards my arm, a little below my hand.

I don't hold back the scream that rips through me as my arm is branded. I can't pull my wide eyes from the sight. The skin where the rod touches is red and white and black and it hurts like fire.

When my magic was taken from me it was as if a claw had dug into my very soul and ripped it apart. The branding feels like my arm is on fire. In actuality I know it is better than the former incident, but the pain is blinding.

The brand is taken off and the pattern left is all too noticeable.

And just like that, I'm marked as property to the woman I hate the most.

Gwaine

I found a small hole which must lead up to the outdoors, because I can feel lovely, cold air blowing on my face when I stand under it. The opening is only big enough for a hand to fit through. Still, I enjoy sneaking away from the slave work they shove upon all the men stuck in the mines.

Percival doesn't share in my break times with me, rather deciding to take the 'safe route' and stick to working. Boring.

Suddenly through the hole I hear a scream of agony. It's far-off, and the picks being struck on the cave walls in the nearby tunnels almost drown it out. But I heard it.

Who is Morgana torturing now? The witch. She's got dozens of people working in the mines, even those who can hardly lift their tools. I remember the first time I saw a child down here. I was so furious I attacked the guards nearby and was rewarded with a black eye and many bruises. These people are sick.

My heart goes out to whoever uttered that scream. Whatever they're going through it cannot be pleasant. Maybe if they're lucky Morgana will just kill them and not drag it out too long.

I internally kick myself. Since when did I begin thinking like this? Too much time in captivity. Stuck in this stinking, awful mine.

I let one last blissful breeze blow through my hair and then return to work before I'm missed.

Merlin

I'm led inside the fortress. Morgana got that awful chain off of me, though the collar remains. I also have a new shirt now, a black, decently warm one. I hate how the end of the left sleeve has been cut so my brand is completely visible. It's a reminder of my position that I would rather no one see, much less myself. Not that I could forget it's presence with the pain it's causing stabbing at me every few seconds.

We stop walking, and I fix my eyes straight forward, not in the mood for talking or listening to Morgana.

I start when a bucket of water is shoved at me, and instinctively take it.

"What is this for?" I ask icily, forgetting my wish for silence.

"Like I said, Merlin," Morgana says slowly. "You are beginning your work today. First you are to scrub these floors. Goodness knows when the last time they were cleaned was."

"That's all?" I ask, trying to keep the surprise out of my tone. "You kidnap me, stick me out in the cold, brand my arm, and then make me scrub some floors?"

"I can make the work more difficult if you would like."

"I'm just surprised at you. Your plan seems pretty weak, considering you have said so often that you've 'dreamed of this moment for so long'. So," I add, leaning towards Morgana a bit. "What's the big plan here?"

"I do not have time for your insolence!" Morgana shrieks, eyes growing larger. "Believe it or not, I have more pressing matters to deal with than you and your stupidity."

"Yes, and what would those be?"

"Mordred!" Morgana shouts and it takes me a moment to realize that she is calling for him rather than answering my question. The young man comes calmly from a hallway to my right, joining Morgana. She whispers something into his ear that I cannot hear, and he gives a slight nod in response.

Mordred grabs the bucket from my hands and shoves it at one of the guards. "Come with me."

Morgana gives me one last glance before she walks purposefully into an adjoining corridor. The man who branded me shoves my back to get me moving, and I obediently follow Mordred. He leads me to a large oak door, which he pushes me through. Before closing it behind him he barks the command "Stay here and don't come in unless I call for you." With that, he slams the door.

I look at Mordred expectantly. "So, what were your orders from your esteemed mistress?"

"Watch your tongue, Emrys. Morgana has been good to me." Mordred warns, eyes cold.

"Do not call me that. My name is Merlin."

"As far as Morgana is concerned, yes."

"Why haven't you told her yet?"

"I don't want you hurt, Emrys. If Morgana does not know your true identity you will remain unharmed."

"Unharmed!" I laugh, shaking my head and holding out my branded arm. "That's a nice joke, Mordred. You see this? She branded me. She stole my magic and left me in the cold for a day! If you gave yourself the job to make sure I'm not harmed, then get better at it or find a new one."

"I cannot control what she does."

Another laugh comes from me. "You are an idiot if you believe that."

Mordred steps forward threateningly. "Do not test me. I cannot stop Morgana from doing something once she is determined, but I can make your life much worse with ease."

I cross the distance between us and grab the front of his coat, my face right in front of his. "Then why don't you?" I hiss. "Why didn't you do it long ago? Instead you stand and watch, silently, like the coward you are. Why didn't you just kill Arthur and me when you had the chance? Your mistress would have been happy if you had. Maybe she would actually have treated you well for it. What does she do to make you so loyal to her? Like a puppy, always coming back. Do you even know what you are doing here?"

Mordred grabs my injured wrist and turns me around, suddenly holding me firmly against his chest, facing out, and arm in a painful grip behind my back. I cry out as his fingers wrap around my fresh brand. "Would you rather I have just ended you, Emrys?" He asks in a low, dangerous voice. "I could have killed you and your precious king easily, you are correct. So why didn't I? Because I owe Arthur my life, and I think one day he may make life easier for people of my kind. And you, I kept around, because I thought the mighty Emrys might actually be as I was told as a child. I was raised believing you would save us all." He digs his fingernails into my burnt flesh, making me gasp loudly in pain. "Then you tried to let me die, didn't you? All those years ago. And then you led Uther's men into my camp and let them murder those I loved."

"I didn't mean to -" I grunt, but he cuts me off.

"Now here I saw you again, sword pointed at your chest and about to die. I was foolish to believe you could ever redeem yourself. I told you when I was young that I would never forgive you, and I would never forget your crime against my people."

"Mordred -"

"You cannot apologize to me, Emrys! Everything has been taken from me. Everything, because of you. I gave you a chance when I saved your life a few days ago. I will not make that mistake again." He shoves me forward with such force that I crash to the ground, instantly cradling my branded arm close to my body as it burns from Mordred's treatment.

"Arthur is a good king," I begin slowly. "And he will reunite Albion. You have not been alongside him all this time, seeing him change. He will make things right!"

"As for Arthur," Mordred says, eyes gaining a dangerous look. "I will run him through when I get the chance. I'm sure Morgana wouldn't mind, as long as he is dead."

My eyes widen in horror, and get to my feet, holding my hands up, trying to change his mind. "No, no, Mordred. You can't do that, you don't understand -"

"Guards!" Mordred calls. Instantly the door opens and the three men come inside. "Tell the lady Morgana that I was successful in extracting the information of Emrys' identity."

I can feel as my face pales. My heart skips a beat. And my hopes come crashing down around me.