Gingeraffealene: It was tough being a protagonist in the original show, but then fan fiction writers came along… hehe.

Aaronna: Thank you, and yes, this story begins directly after The Disir so nothing from after that episode has happened.

mersan123: You're welcome:)

myrosedream: Don't worry, once this is all over I'll be sure to give him a few days off!

And now that I've plunged half my characters into blissful unconsciousness I guess I had better go wake them up.

Arthur was floating pleasantly on the edge of consciousness. He wasn't sure if he was imagining the feeling of scratchy ropes being drawn tight around his wrists, but he ignored it anyhow and folded himself back into the pleasant blackness. He had almost drifted fully away when a strange thought shook him. Why weren't his knights with him? What happened to Percival and Elyan? Where was Merlin? Ah yes, there had been a fight… A fight! Arthur remembered struggling against the soldiers, there had been too many to see Percival or Elyan. They had been separated... I need to find out if they're alright! Arthur tried to kick through the layers of blackness surrounding him. He could see light above him and struggled to reach it. Arthur could feel himself moving upwards when a soft, crooning voice wrapped itself around him. Your friends are fine. Stop worrying and stay here. Enjoy the sweet blackness! Rest! Arthur shook himself free of the voice and kept pushing upwards. No, there's no time to lose! They're in danger! We're all in danger! Sunlight burst in his eyes as they blinked open. Arthur heaved one great shuddering breath after another. He realized he was lying across something warm and tried to push himself up, only to find that his wrists were bound behind him. Quickly, Arthur realized that he was, apparently, moving. He was lying strapped across the back of a horse. He craned his neck, scanning side to side. Arthur could see Elyan and Percival, dripping sweat, stumbling along behind him, their bound wrists attached by a long cord extending to their own horses. Merlin! Where's Merlin? Arthur saw, with partial relief, that Merlin was also bound to a horse, and that he was unconscious. Arthur tried to wiggle out of the ropes binding him, but to no avail. However this mouvement alerted the knight riding in front him.

"The King's awake!" His loud cry echoed painfully in Arthur's ears. He heard a deep voice respond, but couldn't see the face it belonged to.

"Good! You didn't squash him too flat then." Another voice added,

"We're nearly to the camp, it should only be a few more minutes." Arthur vaguely wondered how far they had already come and where they were going. Would Sir Leon and the rest of the knights be there? It was hard to concentrate through the light headedness that was creeping back over him.

It had probably only been a couple minutes but to Arthur it felt like an hour. His head ached and his ears rang from having been upside down for so long. He fought to keep control of his senses; he needed to be awake once they arrived.

The king, knights, and servant perked up a little when the sounds of men's voices, horses, and the smell of boiling stew floated over to them from around the corner of the road. Merlin had woken up only a minute after Arthur, albeit still feeling a bit groggy. The group turned a corner and Arthur caught glimpses of a host of green cloaked men standing, eating, talking and laughing with one another. Tents were pitched all around the road and multiple firepits had been constructed for cooking supper. Unfortunately Arthur's view of the camp was obstructed by the boot and stirrup hanging near his face, as well as the horse's shaggy mane. Although he tried he wasn't able to see any of the other knights of Camelot as they ride into the camp.

Grondin proudly lead his band back to the camp. The horses cantered forwards, heedless of the men frantically jumping out of their way. Grondin slowed and dismounted when he spotted one of his commanders. The man strode up to greet his captain, saluting.

"Make sure these men are watched carefully, or it will be your hide I'll drag back to the throne of the Sarrum." The man nodded. Grondin knew that all his commanders were excellent and would never slack off an order, but he liked to maintain a healthy fear in them. "Same rules apply as for the others. No one is to lay so much as a finger on them, and they will be given minimal food and water. Keep the two groups separate, I don't want them to think they can start scheming together." The commander nodded stiffly, and summoned another group of soldiers who grabbed hold of Percival and Elyan, and hoisted Arthur and Merlin off their horses. The captives struggled but hunger, thirst, and the day's constant exertion had finally caught up to them. They were wrestled towards a few trees growing close to the road, and a cord extending from their wrists was wrapped around the trunks. Five stern men stood guard around them.

Arthur was feeling much more awake than he had been minutes ago. He glanced at Merlin, Percival, and Elyan, thankful beyond belief that they were all still alive. He also knew that there were other prisoners being held in the camp, that much had been clear from what the deep-voiced man had said. Arthur suspected it was Leon's group. He realized that Merlin was eyeing him worridley. He tried to smile a bit for his sake.

"I'm fine, really." The words grated more than Arthur thought they would have.

"You really scared us there Arthur. You too Merlin." Elyan whisphered. "One second we were separated during the fight, and then the next they were strapping you to the back of a horse. Then they brought up Merlin a minute later and did the same to him. We were starting to wonder if either of you were going to wake up."

"I think the others are here Arthur." Percival spoke up and Arthur nodded.

"I heard him too."

"What do you-"

"Shhh!" One of the guards had heard their whispered conversation. The captives fell silent.

Thankfully for Merlin the drug he had been shot with had had the desired effects. It was perhaps the first strike of luck he had experienced so far. Merlin had woken up a half hour after he had been shot, and he wasn't experiencing any side effects. By now it was late, although none of the captives were asleep, and thoughts of escape whirled through Merlin's head. He was pretty confident that he could escape by himself, but he would never leave the others behind. Even though Merlin was sure his magic could blast through the guards standing vigil he wasn't confident all of them would be able to escape. None of the captives were armed, the dogs were still at the camp, and Merlin wasn't sure how he would manage to keep his magic hidden from Arthur and the knights if he did try to free them. What if someone put a knife to one of his friends's throats and forced him to surrender? Then the Sarrum would find out he had magic! Merlin had to fight the fear that crept up at these thoughts. Even though he had told himself over and over again that as long as Arthur was safe it didn't matter what happened to him, Merlin still felt sick whenever he thought of falling into the Sarrum's clutches with his secret revealed. He was paralyzed. He couldn't see any good way out of their situation. But, the thought struck him, there at least was one helpful thing he could do.

Mordred? Are you there?*

Emrys!* Merlin felt Mordred's excitement and then stricken realization. *You were captured as well? Is the King with you? And the rest of the knights?*

Yes, Arthur, Percival, Elyan and I were all captured. I don't know what happened to Dernhelm, William, Ronan or Gavin. Who is with you?* Mordred paused and Merlin feared the worst.

Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine are with me. Sir John escaped, though I don't know what happened to him. Sir Hugo he… he was shot with an arrow. He's dead.*

I'm sorry Mordred.*

Hmm… So am I.*

Grondin tramped into his tent, stripping off pieces of uncomfortable armour and stuffing it into the boxes around the tent. He breathed deeply, a wild smile growing. His plan had worked. He had captured the king and his knights, and tomorrow he would present them to the Sarrum. He washed his face in the earthenware bowl in the tent and stepped out, ready to join his commanders as they prepared supper. Stewed rations would never taste so wonderful.

Gwaine and Leon were startled when they heard the commotion start at the edge of the camp. It grew louder but the men's shouts weren't of fear, they were of victory. They heard the clatter of pounding horse hooves canter through the camp, followed by a familiar, evil voice.

"Make sure these men are watched carefully, or it will be your hide I'll be dragging to the throne of the Sarrum." Leon and Gwaine both knew who the voice was talking about. Arthur had been captured.

The group would return to the castle the following day. Until then the fires burned bright against the darkening sky, the smell of stew made the captive's bellies rumble, and a few joyous shouts were heard when a bottle of ale was discovered amongst the soldiers. The men guarding the knights rotated every hour, and slowly the crowds of men thinned, as, yawning, they slipped one by one into their tents to sleep. By the time the sky was fully dark only half the number of men remained. Under normal circumstances Gwaine would be formulating a plan of escape now that so many men had left. However, he, Leon, and Mordred were all bound to a tree with thick, tight ropes, and Mordred was still unconscious. Gwaine sighed softly. He and Leon were both worried about the boy, considering that he hadn't woken up yet. Neither of them had any idea how to treat a head wound, and they had no way to do much for it anyhow. Trying to make him as comfortable as possible Gwaine had rested Mordred's head in his lap, but now all he could do was wait.

Despite their best efforts Gwaine and Leon both drifted off to sleep around one o'clock in the morning. Only the men on guard duty and the men patrolling the camp were still outside. Mordred shifted as he laid on the ground, blearily opening his eyes. His head pounded, but he managed to keep his eyes open in the dark. He realized, with surprise, that his head was in Gwaine's lap. The man had fallen asleep, his head lying on his shoulder, snoring softly. Mordred tried to sit up but the movement was too much. He slumped back down and couldn't help the moan that escaped him. Gwaine jerked awake.

"Mordred?" The boy smiled wanly up at him. Leon yawned and blinked.

"Mordred! How do you feel?" Mordred tried to shrug, but it took too much effort.

"Like I was run over by a horse." Gwaine choked out a laugh, tears forming. Mordred yawned and blinked sleepily, closing his eyes. Gwaine placed a hand on his forehead.

"Sleep well Mordred." Tears slipped down his face.