Sorry this is a late chapter, I have had a lot of stuff on in the past few weeks. I had exams and then my German pen-friend stayed for a week, and we were out every night showing her the sights of England and the countryside :)

This is a re-post from this morning and is replacing the chapter, as I was in a massive rush to get the bus and didn't have time to give you a proper AN :)

Well here it is anyway :)

Ceara's guards approached him. Their hands were clenched and veins were prominent on their foreheads. Merlin was sweating all over, for hours now he had been stuck in this tent. The torture instruments were hanging on hooks and ropes on the walls. They looked unstable but they didn't need to be stable. After all they were used frequently, so wouldn't need to hang for long.

Merlin wasn't the not the only one who was sweating. Karl the main 'torturer' was having no luck with Merlin. No matter how much blood was spilled onto the bench. He would say nothing. That was the depth of his unwavering loyalty.

Merlin had a strong will, even without his magic. Also the torture, although terrible, wasn't affecting Merlin in the way it would a normal being. His magic had been suppressed, yes, but it was not still. It was protecting him even now. It was like putting a lid on a boiling liquid. The liquid flows and bubbles underneath but can't escape, can't be poured or released.

No matter how hard Karl tried, none of the usual methods would shatter the wall of Emrys' magic. Occasionally he may make a crack or a dent in the shield but never completely destroy it.

"Well Merlin," Karl growled into his ear, "Are you angering me on purpose? Why won't you answer my questions eh? It would save you from more... Pain. " Karl pushed his fingers onto the partially healed wound in Merlin's shoulder. The muscles gave way beneath his fingers and Merlin's eyes bugged out. A small bubble of sound pushed its way up his throat. He didn't want to release the entire stream of his pain. He would not give him the satisfaction.

Karl pushed deeper. The tide of his pain was released and he was sure that he saw a candle burn brighter than was normal. It rose up and licked at the air for a few seconds and then shrank back to its normal height.

"How would you like to try something slightly different? I cant do this one, but I'm sure watching is just as fun." He grinned, "have you felt her presence before? Isn't she just... electrifying."

A shiver ran along the warlocks spine, manifesting itself as a shudder. There was no doubt in his mind who she was. Karl first walked to Merlin's head and gagged him and then strode over to the tent flap and summoned another guard. A few words passed between them and they both laughed.

Not five minutes later the tent flap danced open again. The small girls blonde girls danced behind her as she skipped across the small room. The perfect embroidery on the course dress glittered in the soft candlelight.

"Hello Merlin. It's so nice to meet you again. I understand that you have been a little tied up lately. I also hear that you have been causing some problems in giving me the information I require from you." she laughed. It was a shrill sound, like breaking glass. "Shame-" she skipped over to Merlin, touching his bare torso. "I liked that shirt-" Her icy fingers trailed across Merlin's cuts; he shivered. Merlin shot her a glare.

"Don't frown Merlin the wind might change and your face will be stuck."

Gradually moving herself to his head, Ceara stood above him. This was a moment Merlin would never forget. Her eyes glowed like red hot coals and his gag fell away.

"Now Merlin. I need some information and you will tell me; in one way or another. The information I want, you must understand this, has no importance to me. But my sister... she will find it most useful. I have never met her but her reputation proceeds her. And Grandmother spoke highly of her."

"What do you want Ceara? Not your sister but you. I will never give anything up that will betray r Arthur or Camelot."

"Maybe not willingly, no." Merlin shuddered again. "You will have no choice as to what you will say. In fact you may not even say it. I have gifts...and since you enjoyed their effects last time..."

Merlin flinched violently, the nightmare coming back to him in a flood. Ceara was the only one who could break his wall.

"Even you won't be able to fight me."

"I will fight you until my last breath. Or I will find a way to stop you!" he shouted feebly.

"Brave, brave words Merlin."

Her hand reached back to his wounds and all went black.

"Arthur! Arthur wake up!"

"Merlin?" Arthur said blearily. Leon's face loomed through his cloudy vision. "Uh." It was only then that Arthur realised he was lying on something soft.

Another face became focused and it was vaguely familiar to the King. Where did he know him from? Arthur's mind began to connect the dots. Mordred. Morgana. The druids. It was the druid who he had handed Mordred over to. The one they had visited for the Cup.

Arthur grunted and reached around to his waist, feeling for his sword. He winced. As he had twisted he had pulled the careful stitching of his wound. Hissing slightly in pain, Arthur lifted his shirt. A raw looking hole was buried in the muscles of his shoulder. Jagged edges of thread blew slightly in the breeze his breath was creating. The wound looked about a month old. However it was still deep. It was a hard wound that would take months to heal normally.

"what happened? Why are we here?" Looking around at the worried faces of the druids and the concerned frowns of the knights.

"Do you not remember anything sire?"

"I remember the hunt and then a bandit attack. Where's Merlin?" Arthur looked around expectantly, waiting to see his bumbling manservant pop out from behind a tree.

"Do you not remember anything before the bandit attack? About Merlin?"

"What about Merlin? Is he alright? Was he injured like me?" A crease of worry joined those of age on Iseldir's forehead. The druid leader stepped forward.

"No sire. We don't know where he is. I have some of my best trackers helping your knight, Gwaine? They are performing a spell which should lead us close to his location."

No magic. Wherever he is, we can find him. We will find him. I don't trust any magic not to burn me."

"It is what helped you, Sire. And your knight. Without it you would both be dead. Merlin may also die if you won't let us help you."

Arthur's mind was swimming. If he didn't use magic they might never find Merlin. Or at least not in time. If they did, then surely there would be a consequence. There always was when magic was involved. Magic was evil. Wasn't it? He had been healed. Was that an evil thing?

"What is the price?"

"What price, Sire?"

"To save Merlin. There is always an alternative motive with magic!"

"No sire, there isn't. Why don't you trust me? I have done nothing to harm you. And this child-" he pulled forward a small boy. He had blue eyes, filled with fear. It was a sight that should never have a place on a child's face. And it was directed at him. His wild hair flickered in the breeze and his eyes widened as he met Arthur's. He looked like a young Merlin. "This boy was given the gift of healing with his touch. Not an hour ago he healed your knight, Gwaine, without him, your friend would have been crippled. The damage down to his muscle and tissue alone, would have left every step agony. I won't even begin to describe the damage to his knee-bones."

Arthur looked at the boy with new eyes. He looked tired, and he had rings under his eyes. But there was pride there too. It was a little spark that jumped behind them, a flickering light.

"Thank you"

"See, King Arthur. Magic is not bad. Neither is it good. It is like fire. And that is how it feels. A rush of warmth. Fire can be used to warm and to wound. It can be used to create or destroy. Open your eyes, my King, and see it's beauty. Your father-" Arthur flinched as his father was mentioned.

"-was a great man, in many ways. He was a strong ruler and a sturdy King. However he was blinded. Fear and pain do that to a person. When you don't want something to be true you block it out, ignore it. You believe the opposite of what is true. Your father was a thrown into a world with no light. His flame had been extinguished. He turned to magic as a way to blame someone other than himself. The magical community took that blame and paid the price in the wrath of a heartbroken king."

Arthur slowly leant his head back. Questions came back to him again.

"king Arthur, don't let your father's mistakes ruin your reign. Magic cannot be destroyed. It is in the rain, the soil and the air. All of them combined make your world. The beauties you see.

"Next time you walk with your wife, or patrol with your men; keep your mind open and notice your world

"magic is not evil. If you treat it well it will do the same to you. One day, probably very soon, you will discover something that will shake your beliefs to their foundations. Remember what I have said." Iseldir sighed.

"We will help you fin Merlin, whether you want our help or not. We will be here, assisting you. Our King." With that he left King Arthur baffled speechless.

Suddenly the reality of where he was hit him. The events since the kidnapping pounded his skull. Merlin had to be alive. He'd know if he wasn't. No he wouldn't even think it. He tried to sit up. And the his shoulder made itself known again.

"Ah!" he doubled over, pulling the would further. The knights were at his side in a flash. So was the young Merlin-like boy.

"Sire..." he stammered. Then he pulled himself together and opted a look strangely akin to Gaius'. "Stay down sire. You already have pulled out the stitches. Lay back down for a moment."

Arthur pulled back as the pale hand reached for his wound, he saw, for a moment a girls face with glowing eyes, and the he came back to himself and saw the boy.

"Relax, Sire." He soothed, much like the calming tones used on a wild horse. The boy touched his side and closed his eyes. A faint glow of gold shone through his eyelids. Then he opened his eyes and the sun spilled from them. But Arthur was watching his side.

Slowly but surely, the sides of his wound pulled themselves together. Muscles re-knitted themselves back together and blood seeped from the wound as it replenished itself. The boy sat back, an exhausted look on his face. The only sign of the wound was the puckered edges of the fleshy wound, no longer the gaping hole. Even though the wound was not completely healed, Arthur was free of pain. The magic hummed in his blood, and it was warm.

Arthur Pendragon, slowly, was changing his view of magic.

So what did you think? I am going to try and do the next chapter soon so it is a continuation for Merlin as this chapter was meant to end with a Merlin bit but I was running late :)

Please review, they cheer me up and make me post faster :)

Phoenix