Um... yeah so this is intense, sorry for those of you who didn't want any more whump, I just couldn't resist.

Be sure to check the author's note at the bottom, I'm going to let you guys decide how a couple things play out!

Merlin had been sitting in his cell, frantically trying to think of a way to escape before Morgana came back, when he felt something brush against his consciousness. At first he'd retreated, throwing up barriers to protect himself from what he'd assumed was a mental attack. Physical torture had obviously been ineffectual so he wouldn't put it past Morgana to start in on his mind next; Mordred had been noticeably absent since that day in the woods but his skill at telepathy would make him an ideal psychological weapon in the witch's ongoing effort to break him.

He balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the attack; if they thought he was going to let them in without a fight they were gravely mistaken. He would do everything in his power to keep them out because, if they gained even the smallest foothold, there was little telling what would happen.

After a few minutes of tense silence he cautiously lowered his defenses, reaching out tentatively to search for the thing that had touched him. It wasn't in his immediate vicinity so he stretched further, ready to pull back at the slightest provocation. But, when he found it, he was surprised to discover that it didn't feel threatening at all, in fact it felt… familiar.

The thing, whatever, no whoever it was, didn't want to harm him, but rather, to help. More confident now that the threat had dissipated, Merlin explored the mysterious entity more thoroughly; there was something so comfortable, so extremely ordinary about it that it was almost as if he were investigating his own mind. He thought he should know who it was, that he should be able to tell, but, try as he might, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

He almost didn't notice all the little details pooling together as he carried out his inspection but, finally, it dawned on him. The reason that it felt so familiar, the reason he knew it hadn't been a threat, was because there was only one person in the entire world that it could possibly be. "Arthur?" he asked hesitantly, hardly daring to hope that, after all this time, the king was finally coming for him.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway and he realized that he was out of time, he had no plan, no way to escape, and Morgana was just feet away from him, directly outside the door. In a last ditch effort he screamed "Arthur help! She's coming!" as loud as he could with his mind, pushing his consciousness out as far as it would go, hoping desperately that it would be enough, that Arthur would get the message and come to the rescue.

The door creaked open and Merlin stared Morgana down defiantly as she stalked into the room. "I'll never break," He vowed, eyes never leaving her face, "and Arthur is coming for me, just wait and see."

Instead of answering she raised her hand, clenching it into a fist as her eyes flashed gold, and Merlin screamed. He screamed and screamed until he had nothing left to scream with. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before and it was far worse than anything Morgana had tried previously; it filled his body coursing through his veins and setting his nerves on fire, but it wasn't just physical, it was mental and emotional as well. It felt like someone was trying to tear him apart from the inside out, like his body would explode if he didn't hold it together. It ripped his soul open, taking all the hurt and grief he'd ever felt and flinging them back in his face. It had been hard enough dealing with the loneliness, the guilt, and that awful emptiness that left him feeling drained and hollow after Freya had died, and then again after his father died; but now it was unbearable.

Tears leaked from beneath his tightly closed lids as he gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw to stop himself from giving in; he couldn't break, no matter what, he had to protect Arthur and Camelot. Soon he was beyond coherent thought, his world narrowed until all that mattered was the pain, it dulled his senses and left him incapable of begging for relief, even if he'd wanted to. He lost his hold on his magic and it rushed to the surface, desperate to help him, but it didn't know how to deal with the assault and so it alternated between trying to protect him from the invasion and lashing out at the source of the enchantment, which only served to magnify his suffering.

The triple threat was too much for his magic, which had been locked away for weeks, to deal with and he could feel it fading under the force of Morgana's spell, disappearing at an alarming pace as wave after wave of agony washed over him. He writhed helplessly on the floor, trying to relieve the pain, arching his back and lashing out with his arms and legs in a desperate attempt to feel anything but the burning fire that consumed every inch of his being. His body shook violently, all the half-healed wounds from before opening as he fought for relief. He heard Morgana's low chuckle through the red haze that surrounded him just before he fled from the conscious world, retreating into the comforting dark that had become so familiar.

…

Morgana stared at the boy on the floor before her, shuddering and moaning, his body unable to stay still even in the oblivion of unconsciousness, quite pleased with the effects of her newest trick. If this didn't break him, nothing would and, in the event that he still refused to bend before her there was always the other, albeit far more dangerous, option.

"Won't be long now Merlin, you will give me everything I want!" she muttered then, leaving him to his misery, she strode regally from the room.

…

Arthur galloped wildly through the woods on his horse, he had to find Merlin before it was too late. The boy's voice had sounded so strange, filled with fear instead of its usual enthusiasm. He didn't know exactly where to go but every few minutes he called out using both his mind and his voice, searching for something that would direct him to his missing servant. Finally he stopped and dismounted his horse, peering into the silent woods around him; he could keep going but he didn't want to waste valuable time searching in the wrong direction. He needed a sign, some clue to guide him.

"MERLIN!" he cried, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be too late to save his friend; that the ominous silence didn't mean what he feared it did.

After several minutes with no answer he turned to mount his horse again but found himself paralyzed, unable to move as the tortured screams of his manservant filled his mind. Grabbing his head he sank down into a crouch pressing the palms of his hands into his ears with all of his strength to block out the sound of Merlin in pain. Tears streamed unnoticed down his cheeks as he waited for the cries to fade, unable to think or even function while they continued.

After what seemed like hours the screams subsided, giving way to pitiful whimpers that were somehow worse. Forcing himself to his feet Arthur mounted his horse and followed the moans to a small clearing. Pausing at the edge he scanned the open space for signs of movement but saw nothing. He drew his sword and walked hesitantly into the open, thinking there must have been some mistake; this was where the connection had led him but the boy was nowhere in sight.

"Merlin?" He called in confusion.

As if in answer the tortured screams began again but this time they weren't only in his mind, he heard them with his ears. Swinging around wildly he ran to a large outcropping at the edge of the clearing, the connection pulling him inexorably towards its craggy face. As he reached it he thrust out his hand feeling for something, anything that would help him reach his manservant and gasped as his arm disappeared to the elbow into what should have been solid stone.

Pulling back in surprise Arthur stared at his hand, then the rock before finally holding his breath and plunging through the enchantment, into the darkness beyond. Pausing to let his eyes adjust Arthur realized that he wasn't in a cave as he had expected but rather a large, underground dungeon.

He moved more cautiously now that the screams had stopped, inching along the dark corridor with sword drawn. There were moans coming through the open door of a cell at the end of the hall and, carful not to make a sound, Arthur edged down the corridor until he could see into the small room. Merlin was lying on the floor, his wrists bound with chains, curled in a fetal position, shaking and muttering something under his breath.

…

"P-p-please… please st-t-op… Mor-gana st-t-op… no more… p-please." Merlin gasped out from his position on the floor, unable to stop the tremors that were wracking his thin frame at the memory of the pain.

Morgana raised her hand again; venom in her eyes "Not until you join me Merlin."

"N-never" Merlin vowed with a shudder, closing his eyes in preparation.

…

Morgana clenched her fist and Merlin's screams once again broke the stillness of the dungeon. Arthur watched in horror as his servant arched his back and stretched his arms out, clenching and unclenching his hands, legs scrabbling across the ground in a futile attempt to escape the witch. The king had to consciously restrain himself from charging to the rescue as Merlin lifted his head and began to slam it violently into the stone beneath him until Arthur felt sure that the boy would knock himself out.

…

Merlin wanted desperately to escape the pain but he couldn't, his body clung to the tenuous hold it had on consciousness, refusing to give him even a brief respite from Morgana's torture. The witch finally released her hold and Merlin drew in short shallow breaths, focusing on stilling his trembling body, but it jerked restlessly, trying to escape the phantom pains the spell left behind. He knew that his body, frail as it was from weeks of captivity, couldn't take it much longer and he feared that, if she didn't stop soon, he would die; apparently she had tired of trying to break him and was now focused solely on making his death as painful as possible.

Morgana raised her hand again, clenching it tightly, and the pain began once more; each time was worse than the last and Merlin didn't have the strength to fight it anymore. All the muscles in his body tensed but this time he didn't move, didn't try to get free, just lay there back arched, mouth open in a scream, feeling the life drain out of him onto the floor below.

He was preparing himself to die, content in the knowledge that he had defended Arthur with his last breath, when the pain was cut short. Confused, Merlin pried his eyes open and turned his head towards Morgana, despair settling deep in his gut when he saw her throw Arthur against the wall and hold him there as chains snaked down to bind him in place.

Arthur had come, but it was too late, Merlin was as good as dead and now Morgana had the king in her clutches as well, Camelot was doomed.

…

Arthur watched in horror from the hallway as Morgana raised her hand again but this time was different, he could tell. Merlin's screams had a finality about them that hadn't been there before and the boy didn't try to escape, just froze, locked in that rigid position on the floor.

He was dying, Arthur realized, and that was all it took to for him to throw caution to the wind and charge headlong into the room, murder in his eyes. He swung his sword at his half-sister with all the force he could muster, it would only take one well-aimed blow to bring the witch to her knees, but before he could touch her, she had turned, eyes still glowing and thrown him across the room like a rag doll, calling chains from the wall to hold him in place.

He had failed.

**IMPORTANT** Please review or PM me with your preferences on the following items...

1. Do you want Morgana and/or Mordred to be killed later in this story?

2. How do you want Arthur to react to Merlin's magic? (I could write a really angsty reveal or make him accept Merlin with little to no angst, up to you)

Let me know what you want me to write, I'll do whatever gets the most votes! ;)