So...uh...hi...? *sheepish smile* I know it's been nearly a month since I last updated this story, but...I'm sorry! *cowers behind Merlin* Blame it on my other stories and my parents' strange policy about not bringing any electronics on road trips! (I had to write this chapter on a hotel notepad and then edit it and transfer it all onto my laptop. Gah.)

This was requested by BookLover321 - I'm sorry if this didn't turn out quite as well as you expected, but I was really struggling with this one. O.O

However, I hope you all still enjoy this!

Plot: After accidentally killing a powerful sorcerer, Merlin is cursed.

"Cursed"

Merlin knew that there was something wrong with the campsite even before Arthur started to investigate the grounds. There was an odd chill in the air that clung to Merlin's bones like icy fists, for one. And it wasn't a brisk, wintery sort of chill, either – it was thick and heavy and humid, which also brought discomfort to the rest of the knights.

And the strangest thing of all was the magic – Merlin had grown used to homing in on any traces of magic in the area, but this was of a great quantity. Someone was nearby – friend or foe, Merlin couldn't tell, but he wasn't quite sure that he wanted to find out just yet.

The entire campsite was abandoned, too, and if there was one thing that Merlin had learned from these patrols with Arthur and the knights, abandoned campsites were always a bad sign. (Did Arthur ever keep himself from preceding the grounds, though? No, of course not.)

Now, Merlin was watching Arthur Pendragon search through the tents and clotheslines of the site. Minutes later, the King's head popped out from one of the canvased flaps of a tent, declaring, "Dead Druids. They were gone for some time, too, by the looks of it."

He paused and then, with a grim sigh, added, "Carry on."

The small group nodded back at Arthur and continued scouring through the area. Merlin, however, stood very still. The existence of the Druids made sense now, but the great warlock's ears were still ringing with magic – it was a shame that the Druids had died as well, though maybe the magic was coming from a survivor…? There could be a chance of that, right?

Puffing out a small breath, Merlin turned around. Such a powerful source of magic shouldn't be too far and Merlin couldn't help but to be curious. His previous doubts slowly faded as he made his way around the campsite. The sounds of the knights died down and within minutes, Merlin was all by himself.

To be truthful, there wasn't much to see outside of the campsite except for a few trees and shrubs and a little cave that didn't look too big from where Merlin was standing. Looking over his shoulder once more and confirming that he was still alone, Merlin walked forth to the cave. If he was to find any potential sorcerer, he (or she) should be in the cave.

Immediately, Merlin was struck by the strong odor of blood and sweat. He chewed lightly on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to go deeper into the cave. He wasn't quite sure what he'd find, but Merlin figured that he had smelled worse and been in stranger, odder situations before.

The cave, which had seemed so small from outside, was proving itself to be a bit larger and therefore darker to Merlin. When it came to the point where Merlin couldn't even see the outline of his boots, he murmured a quick spell to light up the path before him and came face-to-face to an old, withered man.

Shouting in surprise, Merlin backed away and jerked his hand blindly in front of himself, pushing the poor man into the cave wall. There was a loud thud and Merlin's hand fell limply to his side as he looked down at the man with wide eyes. His mind was racing with thoughts and emotions – had he hurt the man? Was he the sorcerer? What was he doing here?

"I'm sorry!" Merlin finally said, kneeling down next to the man. The elder's eyes were staring up at the ceiling of the cave, frozen to the surface with such a blank stare that Merlin was sure that he had died. Ice poured into Merlin's veins and he stared in horror at the man's face. Surely, he wasn't –

The old man's hand suddenly flew out from underneath his garments, taking a hold of Merlin's arm with an unusually strong grip. Merlin's eyes broadened and he stared down at the elder. "I can get you help," the warlock said quietly. "I'm sorry for pushing you – I didn't mean to hurt you – I didn't think that you were –"

"That does not matter to me." The elder replied, his voice low and husky. "It does not matter if your actions were intended or by accident – the curse will stop for no one, even if it is for you, Emrys."

If Merlin wasn't chilled by the situation already, he was now. It wasn't much of a surprise that his alternate name was known – it was often repeated amongst the Druids and sorcerers, which now told the young warlock that the man before him was probably the sorcerer who he had been wondering about in this patrol.

But the word curse was what made Merlin uneasy. He knew that curses were not meant to be taken lightly – and if a warning such as this came from another sorcerer, then Merlin was sure to become apprehensive about what was to come.

"I have lived long, Emrys," the elder continued, his voice growing quieter by the moment. "And now, for you have brought me upon my death bed, my hardship will travel to you – and you will suffer just as I did."

The soft-spoken words didn't match the old man's eyes, which were now glittering with a new emotion – not sadness or weariness, but a new kind of cold, determined fierceness that sent another series of shivers up Merlin's spine. And then, before Merlin could protest or try to get himself away from this man, there was a flash of gold and Merlin's world darkened around him.

xXx

"He's not dead, is he?"

"He's not – see, his chest is moving! He's breathing!"

"Calm down, princess. I was just asking."

"Why would you ask that?"

"Why are you giving me that look? I'm just as worried as you are!"

Merlin couldn't take in much when he first opened his eyes – he managed to make out rays of sunlight filtering through the green leaves of trees and feel his head on something soft – perhaps a blanket…or an arm. His eyes traveled around his surroundings – he was no longer in the strange, dark cave, but was now outside, surrounded by many pairs of feet and –

"He's awake!" A loud, familiar voice boomed overhead and Merlin immediately cringed at the sudden sound. Not long after, Gwaine's face filled Merlin's vision. "Are you alright? We found you in there," Gwaine pointed in a certain direction to which Merlin was certain was at the cave, "and it gave us all a nasty shock."

There was a small pause and then Gwaine continued in a not-so-quiet whisper, "It gave the princess the nastiest shock of all…"

Despite the situation, Merlin couldn't help but to snort in laughter. Everyone knew who Gwaine was referring to and sure enough, Arthur was heard barking, "Gwaine!"

Gwaine made a show of rolling his eyes and standing up. "Fine, fine," he said. "I'll leave you two alone – we'll be heading back to Camelot soon, anyways." Gwaine cast Merlin another look, which was associated with a mocking, sympathetic head-shake. "Prepare to be attacked with questions and trips to Gaius."

Merlin grinned in response and Gwaine walked away, searching for God-knows-what. (Possibly a different source of entertainment or teasing.)

"For the record, Gwaine was very worried, so you don't have to think that I was alone in all of this." Arthur said gruffly, seating himself down next to Merlin. The warlock simply smiled to himself and gave a halfhearted shrug of the shoulders. A small silence passed between the two young men and then –

"What happened in the cave? It really was…shocking to find you there by yourself." Arthur said quietly, turning to Merlin. "We found another person next to you, but he was dead."

Merlin's smile slowly slid off his face. His head been temporarily wiped of the memories of the events that had happened in the last few hours – and now that Arthur had brought it up again…

Curse, Merlin thought to himself, feeling himself go still and numb with anxiety. What was going to come in the next few days? Did Arthur know anything? Maybe Gaius or Kilgarrah knew something about this –

"Merlin?" Arthur nudged the warlock with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Are you still here?"

Merlin blinked and turned back to the King with wide eyes. "Yes," he replied quietly. "I'm just tired." (That wasn't really a lie – Merlin was beginning to grow rather sleepy and worn out from the excitement of today.) Arthur, for once, didn't seem to be quite interested in letting Merlin go with that answer. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin and the warlock in return did his best to look as exhausted as possible.

A few seconds of silence ticked by and finally, Arthur said, "Fine – you should be tired. But I want you to check on Gaius as soon as we're in Camelot."

"Checking on Gaius is inevitable for me, Arthur," Merlin replied, forcing his voice to take on a lighthearted manner. "If there was anything wrong with me, he'd be the first to notice." He managed to smile again as the two made their way to the horses. "Your concern for me is touching, though."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What have we said about you being funny, Merlin?"

"That I shouldn't?"

"That's right. I'm glad you didn't forget."

It was Merlin's turn to roll his eyes at the blonde as he mounted his horse. All seemed to be going well until Merlin suddenly felt a pain bloom in his chest. He made a small gasping sound as it traveled from his chest to his torso and shoulders and suddenly, Merlin couldn't breathe or move.

"Merlin?" The warlock heard Arthur call from behind him. "Are you feeling alright?"

Merlin couldn't even bring himself to answer. He brought his hands to his chest (as though it would cease the pain), only to tumble off the horse and hit the ground. It only took a few seconds for Arthur to call for help and come to Merlin's side, though by then, the warlock was beginning to see dots of yellow and black from lack of breath.

Suddenly, Arthur's hands were over Merlin's neck and he was screaming at the warlock to remove his hands. None of Arthur's demands made sense to Merlin's ears – why would Merlin need to remove his own hands? They were on his chest – and Merlin wouldn't be able to move his hands, anyways. The pain was too great and he couldn't breathe and he was sure that he only had seconds left –

"Merlin, your hands! You're strangling yourself!" Arthur shouted frantically and with a painful jerking and popping sound, Merlin felt his hands fall lifelessly to his chest. Everything sharpened quickly before Merlin and the young man slowly became aware of how closed up his neck felt and how his hands were red from squeezing something too tight.

But how is that possible? They were never holding onto something! Merlin wanted to say, though he couldn't find his voice. He heaved out a few coughs, taking in as much air as he possibly could after the ordeal. Merlin heard some of the knights murmuring in the background and he felt someone pushing him into a sitting position.

"What was that all about?" Merlin heard someone ask quietly. "Looked like dark magic."

"Dark magic – Merlin doesn't practice magic of any kind." Another person snorted – Arthur. "But I agree – that wasn't Merlin. He'll need help."

All this time, Merlin couldn't do much except think to himself and fret over the meaning of all this. That had been a close call – if Arthur wasn't able to pull Merlin's hands away…

Merlin took in another shuddery breath and shakily stood himself up, leaning against the horse for support. He slowly mounted himself over the saddle again and waited patiently for Arthur and the rest of the knights to finish their discussion. When the murmurs continued for another few minutes, Merlin didn't have much of a choice except to clear his throat and stare pointedly at Arthur.

"What are you doing on the horse?" The King asked, narrowing his eyes up at the younger man. Merlin shrugged his shoulders and after clearing his throat several times, he replied, "Isn't it obvious? We have to ride back, don't we? Or has something changed since the last time I was awake?"

Merlin had meant the last bit of his comment to be a joke – or at least to get a few laughs, but no one seemed to find his words amusing. Arthur shook his head and pointed at the ground. "That won't do – what if you try strangling yourself again? I don't like the look of those odds. You'll ride with me."

Merlin blinked and gripped the reins of his horse. "Why?" He asked suspiciously.

"Because I said so." Arthur replied, a bit of his old smugness returning. He paused. "And also because I'm the only one who can put up with you."

"You put up with me?" Merlin asked dubiously. "What kind of joke is –"

"Come on, Merlin." Arthur interrupted quickly. "We don't have all day."

A few embarrassed mutters and mumbles and murmurs later, Merlin was safely fastened in front of Arthur on the saddle. The King's arms were in front of Merlin's torso, holding onto the reins and therefore leading the horse in front of all the knights, who appeared to be struggling between amusement and sympathy for Merlin's current situation.

Merlin himself was feeling rather conflicted inside in this muddle. The curse and its doings was a constant threat that hung in the air and everyone knew it. Merlin simply hoped that Gaius or Kilgarrah knew of this mysterious magic before it could ruin anything else.

xXx

The very second Merlin was finished explaining everything to Gaius, he was sent to his bedroom and lulled into sleep right away. Merlin wasn't quite sure what was happening around him after that – every few hours he would wake up, gasping for breath and come to a realization that he was trying to strangle himself in his sleep.

Eventually, Gaius (with Arthur's help) had to tie Merlin's hands to the bed. However, it was quickly realized that that wasn't much of a help, for in Merlin's state, his hands would break away from the bonds and return to Merlin's neck.

"What's wrong with him, Gaius?" Merlin heard Arthur finally ask in one of the late hours of the night. Merlin had finally drifted into some form of sleep in which he was just barely hovering between deep sleep and consciousness. Not once had Arthur or Gaius left Merlin's bedroom.

"A dark magic had taken a hold of Merlin, sire – this is something that I hadn't seen since the days of the Great Purge." Gaius replied quietly.

"Yes, but what is it? Is it a poison? A malady? A…curable thing?" Arthur asked, his voice as sharp and demanding as quiet and soft.

There was a pause. Merlin had the odd feeling that Arthur wasn't going to like the next words. Surely enough, Gaius responded in an even, calm voice, "It's a long and complicated spell, sire. This was usually used for sorcerers to curse their enemies into a state of fear and distrust. Whoever would kill the bearer of the curse would be cursed themselves."

"We found a dead man next to Merlin when we found him." Arthur said in a hushed voice. Merlin could feel the blonde turning to look at him. "Merlin couldn't have –"

"It could be possible that it was an accident, sire. These things tend to happen like this – whether on purpose or by accident, Merlin would still be cursed." Gaius replied.

There was a small silence. Finally, Arthur whispered, "How do we save Merlin?"

Gaius sighed deeply. "Your Majesty, you know as well as I do that to undo magic, you'll need to use magic yourself." He replied. "There aren't any exceptions for this case, either – magic will have to be used for Merlin to survive this ordeal."

Merlin heard Arthur suck in a sharp breath. "Do you think you can make it quick, Gaius?"

The warlock felt his heart drop in shock and surprise. Gaius' tone matched Merlin's emotions as he asked, "Are you sure you want to do that, sire? If anyone was to hear of this –"

"Please, Gaius." Arthur cut off, his voice quiet and low. "It's for Merlin. He didn't mean to kill that man and…he doesn't deserve to die this way. Not now. Definitely not now and not here. You must understand me, Gaius – he can't die."

Before Gaius could answer, Merlin felt the familiar, wretched feeling of pain take over his body once more. His eyes snapped open and a choked, screaming sound ripped out of his mouth as he panted and searched desperately for air. The silence between Gaius and Arthur was immediately broken and the next few minutes were filled with shouts and cries and heaves. Merlin felt his hands tighten around his neck, though he couldn't stop any of it. His vision was beginning to darken now and fear was closing in around his heart with a threatening promise of more terror to come.

Throughout it all, Merlin slowly lifted his eyes to look up at Arthur's. The blonde was frantically pulling Merlin's hands away, his face red with effort. Merlin struggled under the grip of his own hands and tilted his head a bit more to get a better look at Arthur. With what seemed to be great strength to Merlin, he managed to poke the palm of Arthur's hand.

Arthur looked down at Merlin, his blue eyes now shining with tears. "Merlin, let go." Arthur said quietly. "You're going to kill yourself."

Merlin smiled sadly at Arthur. His eyes started to drift from Arthur's face and darkness started to sap away the lights and colors of the world. He puffed out a small breath and instantly, Merlin was brought under into unconsciousness.

xXx

An entire week passed before Merlin was finally able to get back to work as Arthur's manservant. The week had been a hard one as well – according to Gaius, Merlin had kept drifting in and out of sleep and had a few more strangle-sessions until the physician finally found the proper spell to bring an end to the curse.

Merlin's head was still ringing with the news as well – he was aware that he had just escaped a cruel, unfortunate fate (what else was new?) but what struck him even odder was that Arthur was willing to have Gaius perform magic for him.

"You shouldn't talk to Arthur about that," Gaius warned Merlin as he started to walk out of the door.

"Why not?" Merlin asked, turning around. "He just defied Camelot's laws – isn't this good? Magic might finally be –"

"Small steps, Merlin." The older man replied simply. "Perhaps Arthur wasn't thinking about the future of Camelot and sorcerers – maybe he was thinking about a certain manservant, hm?"

Merlin took a few moments to process Gaius' words. Then, a small smile spread across Merlin's lips. "Maybe." Merlin murmured and before any other words could be exchanged, the young warlock ducked out of the room.

A/N - I'm not very good at this adventure genre thing. Really, I'm not. *sighs* I have an idea for the next chapter, but I promise I'll get to the other requests as soon as possible! Another thing, doods - the next time I update this story will probably be around the time I go back to school (Sept. 4, oh gosh!) so updates may slow down. However, I promise I'm not gonna pull a fast one on you guys and put this thing on a five-year hiatus or something like that. O.O No way.

As always, reviews are amazing! Constructive criticism is allowed, but flames are not!