Hey guys I'm back! Sorry, I've been neglecting this story to devote myself to another Merlin fanfic on my account, "You Are My Friend, Now and Forevermore" I'm actually very proud of that one :) Anyways, here's a new chapter!

Arthur lay on his bed, too weak to pull himself into it. He was still fully dressed, and wow did his chest hurt. Actually, everything hurt. He'd never tell anyone, though. How could he? His father was the king, it wasn't as if anyone could actually help him. Plus, the closest thing he had to a real friend was Merlin, and he had yet to notice anything was wrong. Besides, he should be strong enough, he told himself. He should be able to handle the pain.

Yet at the same time, he knew he couldn't. It wasn't just the physical pain, it was seeing the surge of bitter hate in his father's eyes, making him want to retreat further into the dark recesses of his mind, just so that perhaps he could find some brief escape from the thoughts and pain… all that pain… that tormented him.

There was a knock at the door. Arthur looked over, struggling to pull himself up straight up into a sitting position. He took a deep, painful breath before speaking. "Enter." To his surprise, Merlin came through the door. "What are you doing here? I dismissed you." Arthur casually moved his hand to his bruised temple, attempting to hide it. Merlin already knew it was there, he had seen it the moment he entered, and again the rage began to build up inside him.

"I know, I just thought you might want me to get you ready for bed." Arthur thought about it for a moment, and realized that there was no way he would be able to do it on his own.

"Alright then. Fetch my nightclothes." Merlin did so, carefully watching Arthur's every move… or rather, lack of movement. The prince hadn't even come to his dressing curtain. Instead, he sat rather uneasily on his bed, and it didn't look as if he planned to move anytime soon. So, Merlin brought the clothes to him. Now that he was looking, Merlin couldn't believe he'd missed how much pain Arthur was in.

In fact, Arthur could hardly stand up. His breath labored and he shook terribly, holding onto the bedpost. Whatever training he'd done with the knights that day must have aggravated his condition to an almost unbearable point. Still, Merlin didn't want to jump into it straight away, so he eased it onto him. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine." Merlin sighed, pulling the shirt over Arthur's head. He winced in pain when he raised up his arms, Merlin acted like he didn't see it. He went to take off Arthur's undershirt, but the prince resisted. "It's alright, I'll just sleep in this." He insisted.

"But, I have a perfectly good shirt here."

"I don't care, it's fine."

"Are you hurt?" Merlin asked him. Arthur's heart began to race.

"No, no, I'm fine."

"You can't even stand properly!" Merlin sighed. "Arthur, you can tell me what's wrong."

"There are things you cannot understand! You are just a servant. I am a prince! What I do, how I act, affects the future of Camelot. You cannot understand how it feels to have so much to be responsible for. You cannot understand what it's like to let my father down. Not only is he my father, he is my king." Arthur looked down.

"Is this about your father? What's going on?"

"No! I just…" Arthur looked up at him, desperate for help yet knowing Merlin couldn't give it to him. He bit his lip. "You can go, Merlin."

"Let me help you into bed. I may not know what's wrong, but at least let me help with what I can." Arthur agreed, albeit reluctantly, knowing that without Merlin's help it was unlikely he'd ever get to bed. "You can tell me what's troubling you, Arthur." Merlin said as he left. "Perhaps I'll be able to understand more than you think. And, even if I can't, I'll be there for you. You can count on me." And then he slipped out the door, before Arthur even had the chance to say thank you.

Merlin felt so lost, even in the hallways he'd walked so many times. He forgot about his foot. He had never felt so helpless, wanting nothing more than to help Arthur. Perhaps he should go to Gaius… but then, Arthur would be upset at Gwen. Maybe he could tell Gaius without giving her away…

He pushed open the door and made his way inside. Gaius had dinner ready on the table for him, and Merlin took his seat. "Smells good. Thank you."

"You're quite welcome." They sat in silence, Merlin forgetting to eat, zoning out. He could do nothing but think of Arthur. His spoon slipped out of his hand and hit the table beside his bowl, pulling him out of his reverie.

"Oh, my bad." He began to clean up the drops of soup that had spilled.

"What's wrong, my boy?" Gaius asked, looking at him worriedly, noticing his sluggish pace and tired eyes. Merlin sighed.

"Nothing, Gaius."

"You know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

"Not this time. Not yet." Merlin looked up from his bowl. "I really wish I could, Gaius, I wish I could. But Arthur would be so upset... I can't do that to him." He closed his eyes for a moment, turning his head to the side.

"It'll be alright. I trust you to make whatever decision you believe is right."

"I don't trust myself, and Arthur certainly doesn't trust me."

"Merlin, you are tired. Finish your food and go to sleep. You will be well-suited to face whatever comes at you in the morning." Merlin nodded, finishing his stew with Gaius back in his seat. His thoughts had been drifting to possible beatings Arthur had suffered, wondered how long it had been happening. His mind took him to the thought of Uther murdering Arthur out of blind rage, Arthur's face as he lay dying at the hands of his own father, and it was too much. Merlin's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Gaius." His throat was tight, his voice betraying his emotions. The old man looked up, ready to comfort, to listen, to help. Merlin swiped his arm over his eyes, not allowing his tears to fall. "It's Arthur." His voice was not nearly where he wanted it to be, despite how hard he was trying to remain controlled. He rested his right elbow on the table and let out a single sob, unable to stifle the visualizations running through his mind. Gaius was by his side in an instant, resting a hand on his shoulder, allowing Merlin to regain himself. "Uther-" He choked out. "Uther…" Gaius could not quite make the pieces fit.

"What is it, Merlin?" The boy sat up straight, taking a deep breath, his mind working furiously to determine the best way to say this.

"Uther… is beating Arthur. I just found out today, I didn't know, but he's hurt! He could hardly move, but after the meeting, Uther hit him, and I don't know what else he might have-" As he spoke, the words became more rushed.

"Merlin! Slow down!"

"Uther is abusing Arthur. He's injured, Gaius. I don't know how long it's been happening." It was plain to see that a quiet, calm, well-deserved anger was rising up in Gaius. It was quickly masked by his professionalism as he went to gather his medical supplies together. "Wait-Gaius." Merlin said, and the old man turned around to face him. "Arthur hasn't come to me himself. Give me another day so that I can get him to confide in me, maybe learn details. If you go now, he'll be upset. Please, just a day." Gaius sighed.

"How badly is he injured?" Merlin bit his lip.

"I can't be sure. If it is very bad, I will come get you. I promise." Gaius still remained uncertain.

"You know I value Arthur's life far above my own. I was born to protect that man, and I intend to do just that until the day I die. When I say that I'll come get you, I mean it." Gaius hugged Merlin.

"I am so proud of you, Merlin. You've grown so much, you've become strong. I am so, so proud." Merlin buried himself deeply into his uncle's shoulder, all of the tension of the responsibility melting off of him for that sweet moment. His body trembled as exhaustion overtook him. Gaius held him tightly, knowing he needed the comfort. Then, he sent him to bed and cleared the table, beginning to make a pain draught for Merlin to slip into Arthur's drink the next morning.