Wow, I am so so sorry this took me so frickin' long! :O Thank you all so much for being infinitely patient with me and for all the lovely reviews since my last update. I treasure your support so much! Enjoy the long awaited next chapter (I hope it is up to expectations!)

(Note: This chapter is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes!)


4. Night Terrors and Sinister Plots

~ Merlin ~

Paralysed in fear Merlin could only curl into a painful ball and pray for strength to make it through the night.

Merlin had always liked to think of himself as brave. Ready and willing to throw himself into danger to help others or stand up for those in need, despite the consequences for himself. Hardened now from years as Arthur's manservant he had seen his fair share of battle and had endured pain from both physical and magic means.

But as he lay there, locked away in the dark with those things above him, Merlin didn't feel brave. He didn't feel like the powerful warlock Emrys whose name inspired both worship and fear.

Right now, Merlin only felt terrified.

Hanging above him in vast clumps was the largest collection of mandrakes Merlin had ever seen. More than he had been able to count in the few moments he had lit up the room.

Their presence had the small shack feel claustrophobic and he couldn't stop himself from cowering on the ground, pressing himself as far as he could from their descending roots. In the darkness he could swear they were moving, spreading their corruptive influence into the space around him.

He knew he was panicking, lightheaded with both pain and hunger, but couldn't find anything about his situation comforting. His breathing sounded harsh in the small space, body tense against the hard-packed earth.

It would only be a matter of time before the mandrake effects would take hold and his only hope was that his magical nature and foreknowledge of such effects would help him fight his way through the visions.

And so began the longest night of Merlin's life.

.

Time passed at a slow crawl while Merlin lay slumped on the floor. He felt wretched and exhausted beyond measure but was unable to slip into sleep, his mind plagued with thoughts of what effects the Mandrakes would have on him. He could recall vividly the devastating effects a single Mandrake had inflicted on Uther's mind, driving him mad with grief and memories of past horrors.

What could a whole shack full of them do? He was stuck with more Mandrakes than he had been able to count, and Merlin knew he had plenty of horrors and regrets for the Mandrakes to play with.

.

In the end, he found brief moments of respite, when the pain and stress of his wounds had him fall into a restless sleep. But it was never long before he would jolt awake again, with the gut-wrenching fear of what torment was sure to come. The third such time Merlin jolted awake, heart thumping painfully loud in his chest, he knew something had changed.

His magical senses were prickling, giving him the sensation of pins and needles over his body. It could only mean one thing; the Mandrakes effects were starting to emerge. He stretched his awareness out to compensate for the lack of sight, feeling vulnerable and exposed out in the open with nothing to hold onto but the ground beneath him.

Long minutes passed this way in which nothing but his breathing disturbed the quiet but Merlin didn't relax, his nerves were screaming danger, the sensation of pins and needles growing stronger and the hairs on the back of his arms and neck standing up.

It was almost a relief when something happened, even as he nearly jumped out of his skin at the feel of something trailing across the back of his shoulders. Jerking away instinctually Merlin painfully turning himself to face the presence behind him, seeing nothing by darkness.

Frightened by his own helplessness Merlin forced the last of his magical strength into another weak flickering orb that strained to alleviate the darkness. Peering into the gloom he could see nothing but the roots of those damned plants.

Then he heard a noise, a scuff of something dragging across the earth, just outside the reach of his orb of light. Struck immobile with fear Merlin could only watch as a figure stepped into the light.

It was Arthur; dressed in full battle armor, the metal shining with an unnatural light that set to illuminate his form in the darkness when Merlin's weak orb of light flickered and went out.

"Arthur," Merlin breathed the name like a prayer, unable to contain the hope that ignited in his chest at seeing his King before him even if he knew this wasn't real. That this was just an illusion designed to hurt him in the most painful of ways.

"Arthur, say something…" Merlin pleaded when the man continued to stare down at him with dark, shadowed eyes. His silence unnerving and Merlin felt cut open by his gaze like he was being judged and found wanting.

"This is your fault," Arthur spoke, at last, his words cold and Merlin shrunk away at the venom in them.

"I– I don't understand."

Arthur sneered at him but said nothing more. Instead, his body started changing, morphing into something nightmarish until what stood before him was the grotesque parody of what a human should look like. Merlin recoiled, shocked at the sight of his friend so terribly injured.

Arthur's body was a horrific sight, bloodied and beaten; some areas so crushed and mangled that it was a wonder he was still standing. Worse of all was the skull; half caved in, blood and brain matter mingling with the golden hair and dripping down the side of a face that barely resembled Arthur's own.

"Look what your magic did." Arthur's voice was flat and devoid of emotion. But his eyes burned with fury.

"I never… I wouldn't…" Merlin stammered.

"But you did."

"I was only trying to help." His words came out feeble and choked and the Arthur in front of him laughed, the sound cruel.

"And what a great job you did!" Arthur flung out his arms out, revealing more damage, stepping closer as he did. Merlin scrambled painfully back as Arthur continued to press forward.

"Who will rule Camelot now? Now that I am dead at your hands Morgana will take the throne and destroy my home." Merlin felt a jolt of pain run through him as his back hit a wall but he barely paid it any mind, his attention fully focused on Arthur who loomed above him, leaning closer into his personal space. Merlin squeezed his eyes closed to block out the horrific sight, hunching over himself and bringing hands to cover the sides of his head.

Not real not real not real not real

He repeated the mantra to himself, but it didn't dispel the horrific sight in front of him or shut out the poisonous words being spoken.

"But that was your plan wasn't it? You wanted to see Camelot fall. You're just as bad as Morgana. A filthy magic user. A monster." Arthur spat the word and Merlin flinched at the pure hatred in his voice. He hunched down further, chanting not real over and over again until his voice was hoarse and the illusion of Arthur had disappeared back into darkness.

Barely a few minutes past before the prickling sensation returned and Merlin looked up in trepidation, terrified at what else could be in store for him.

It was his mother this time, glowing like a ghost in the gloom. She looked terrible, her face drawn and pale, painful sores marring her features like they had when she had been struck ill by Nimueh.

"Mother." He croaked, reaching out feebly in hope of some kindness. But instead of offering comfort she avoided his touch, stepping back with a sneer - an expression that was normally ill-suited for her soft features.

"You were always such a burden Merlin. A freak of nature sent to curse me. My punishment for laying with a disgusting magic user," She sneered at the term, looking at him with cold indifference. "I should have abandoned you are birth, left you in the cold to die."

"You don't mean that," Merlin said, shaking his head. "You're not real."

"Why do you think I sent you off to Camelot?" Hunith continued as though he had never spoken. " I hoped you would be caught and burnt at the stake. A fitting ending for a monster like you."

"None of this is real." Merlin whimpered as fresh tears slide down his cheeks, the words hitting him harder when they came from his mother's mouth. He knew she wasn't real, just a horrible vision but the words struck something deep within him and he couldn't deny the truth of each word spoken.

He was a freak, a burden– a danger to everyone close to him. Sometimes he felt that if it wasn't for his destiny hanging heavy over his head he would have given up long ago, withdrawn from the world and lived as a hermit where he could not endanger anyone he cared for.

Perhaps if he was brave enough he would have ended his life. Taken himself out of the picture entirely. Let his great destiny wither away and become another unfulfilled prophecy.

When he finally pulled himself from his own self-destructive thoughts, a new figure was waiting for him. Gaius loomed over him, his hunched and elderly appearance not making him appear any less threatening when his expression was as cold and hard as stone.

"It would be better if you died here, boy." Gaius' sneered, "you were only useful to me as an errand boy and even then you were next to useless. I gave you my food, space in my quarters, and what did I get in return? A lazy, incompetent boy, not worth the space he filled. I should have sold you out to Uther the minute you walked through my door."

A small part of Merlin couldn't help but agree. He had been a burden on Gaius, bringing nothing but misery and pain to the old man who had taken him in only because of the pleas of his mother.

Then Gaius was replaced with a new figure, perhaps the most painful for him to see. Freya stood before him and Merlin choked on fresh sobs at seeing her again. She looked as beautiful as he remembered but he could bare stand to look at her, having never forgiven himself for failing her.

"Did you ever truly love me?" She asked, and Merlin looked away, unable to hold her accusing gaze. "Or was it all lies? A mere game to keep yourself amused; playing hero and save the poor defenseless girl?"

"No! It wasn't like that!" Merlin's head shot up and he stared up her pleadingly. "I loved you, with everything I was. Please… you must believe me." He dragged himself away from the wall until he was kneeling before her, praying for her forgiveness even when he knew he deserved nothing but her hatred.

"Then why am I dead!" She shrieked at him and her body started warping, the shape twisting into something beast-like, her cursed Bastet form towering over him and voice turning into a growl. "You are the most powerful sorcerer, yet allowed me to die at the hands of your friends. I died in agony, never knowing the freedom you promised."

Before he could even try to defend himself, to explain or apologise, she was gone. There was barely a pause until he was faced with more apparitions, the knights of the round table looking down on him with undisguised disgust.

Worst of all was the figure of Lancelot who stood at their center, looking down at Merlin like he something awful he had just scraped off the bottom of his boot. Merlin bowed his head, unable to stand the combined weight of their hateful stares.

"I should have never sacrificed myself in your place. I knew what you were, knew of the abomination you were, but kept your secret. And all it gave me was pain and torment. I wish I had never met you. I would still be alive now if it wasn't for you."

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered.

"Apologies won't bring him back," Elyan spoke up from Lancelot's right.

"But maybe your death would make things right," Percival added.

"But– my destiny." Merlin stuttered, "I've only done good things with magic! I helped Arthur make Camelot a better place!"

"And how many had to suffer? How many had to die on your oh-so-noble quest?" Leon spoke for the first time, his words bringing back all the guilt Merlin held for everyone he had never been able to save along the way.

"I never meant for anyone to die. I never wanted any of this!" A small part of him was still urging him to remember that this was not real but the longer his torment drew on the less he was able to distinguish truth from the lies. He was cold, scared and completely at the mercy of his own demons. His body still agony from Morgana's earlier treatment and now his mind being mercilessly torn apart by his worst fears and insecurities.

"Oh, how convenient. So you are not to blame. It was all destiny's fault huh?." Gwaine stepped forward and leaned down to spit his next words into Merlin's face, who hunched under the continued assault.

"I always knew there was something off about you. And now it all makes sense now. That wrongness I sensed around you."

"Please, I'm sorry." He begged, just wanting the torment to stop but there was no relief.

"You better hope you die here, or we might just have ourselves a good bonfire when you get back." Gwaine grinned, and suddenly all the knights were holding burning torching in their hands, the firelight casting flickering shadows across their faces.

Merlin pushed himself back against the wall, feeling the heat of flames as they surrounded him, his body already feeling as though it was on fire as the Knights continued to spit insults at him.

"Evil!"

"Freak!"

"Abomination!"

Merlin started screaming, trying to drown out the Knights with his own voice. He screamed until his voice gave out, but it never made a difference.

Not when it was all coming from inside his own head.

~ Morgana ~

Morgana stood in the door, watching as Agravaine dismounted from his horse and walked towards her.

"My lady." Agravaine bowed in respect in front of her and Morgana had to hold back a sneer at his sycophantic ways. Instead, she nodded her head regally back at him attempting, despite the surrounds and her state of dress, to appear regal and composed. She needed him on her side, so, unfortunately, that meant playing nice when she would rather rid herself of him completely.

"Agravine, my loyal friend," she greeted him, drawing him further inside and seating herself at the small wooden table. He hesitated just inside the door. His eyes took in the interior of her hovel, widening slightly when he saw the bloodstained ground where Merlin had been hanging. She smiled at his discomfort.

"What news do you bring me of Camelot?"

"Arthur is restless. The loss of his manservant has hit him harder than I had anticipated. He has sent patrols out to the woods multiple times and even rode out himself this very day."

The information gave Morgana pause. "He truly cares for the boy that much?"

She had known the two were unusually close, but Arthur's loyalty and tenacity was a surprising development. Something she could very well twist to her advantage.

"It surprised me also, my lady. But we could use this. Arthur is distracted, chasing breadcrumbs. Now is the perfect time to strike."

"Indeed. Which is why I have a very important task for you. " Agravaine sat up a little straighter.

"Anything you ask, my lady."

"I have need of my previous handmaiden, Gwenivere. She is the key to my new plan to rid Camelot of Arthur."

"I don't see how–"

"It is not your place to question me in this." Morgana interrupted him sharply, "all I require of you is for you to ensure she ventures into the woods and I will take care of the rest. You have a cover to maintain after all."

"I have been careful." Agravine rushed to reassure.

"Not careful enough!" She interrupted him again, more fiercely, and he leaned back in his chair in alarm. "Merlin has boasted to me himself of your duplicitous nature. If he had been anything but a servant you would have suffered a traitors death by now."

"The boy still lives?" His eyes were drawn back to the blood-soaked ground not far from where they were sitting.

"For now." She smiled, wondering how he was enjoying the company of her Mandrakes. "I rather enjoy the idea of letting him live long enough to see Camelot fall."

"Your victory will be most glorious my queen," Agravine promised, standing from his chair and edging back toward the door. It seemed his stomach was even weaker than his backbone.

"I will do what you command." He swept from the house and this time Morgana didn't hold back the sneer as she watched his retreating back. He really was quite spineless, content to stick to the shadows and manipulate those around him for his own gain. There was the distinct possibility he could betray her to save his own skin and she welcomed the thought. She would enjoy ridding herself of his presence if he proved himself untrustworthy once she got the throne.

But for now, he had his uses. Once she had Gwen her new plan could be put into play and Arthur would die at the hands of the one he held most dear.