Title: The legend of a Warlock who Served the Once and Future King

Author: Lamiabellascrittore

Rating: T+

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, or any of the characters. If I did there would be a season six, seven, eight, and so on, and a movie, of course.

Spoilers: Possibly.

Summary: Merlin and Arthur go on a mission that was supposed to be strictly reconnaissance. However, nothing ever goes as planned, and they get separated. Merlin is kidnapped by Morgana and Arthur must find a way to rescue his ever loyal servant. But, will Arthur still save Merlin after he learns Merlin has magic? This story is building up to the battle of Camlann. The sequel to this one.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first Published Fan Fiction. Please read and review, if you liked it I will continue. Please be kind. ;) The more you review the more likely it is that I will continue this story and more.

I hope you enjoy...

Chapter Five

Captive of a Lost Love

A sharp pain in Merlin's wrist drew his attention as he jerked awake. His hands were tied to a thick rod above his head, wrists encased in shiny silver cuffs with gold ruins of the old religion engraved into each one meticulously.

It was supposed to block him from accessing magic. Or rather he felt it try to block his magic, but it barely was able to restrain it; however, he was to tired and in to much pain to access it, anyhow.

Merlin turned his head surveying the room he was in. It was dark and damp, and had only one strangely cut circular window on the wall behind him giving off a dim glow of pail light. It looked like someone crudely attempted to make a window. He craned his neck and felt a shock of pain shoot up his neck. He tried to look down to see what it was but only felt more pain. He swallowed, feeling the tight band around his neck. A magic caller. That was what really restrained his power.

He noticed someone had removed his shirt and shoes, leaving him only in his dark, nearly black trousers. It made him feel extremely vulnerable. He shivered, and cold, he added after a moments thought. As his eyes adjusted to the room he could make out a small unlit fireplace in the corner and a small desk with a shelf filled with potions and weapons that screamed pain, death and darkness, but otherwise the room was empty except for the shadows for company.

He groaned as nausea overwhelmed him. He remained still, waiting for the feeling to pass. Merlin was tempted to use his magic to break free of his restraints, he's done it before, but was hesitant. The fear of keeping his secret from Morgana kept him from breaking out of them, hell from breaking apart the room and going free entirely. He wasn't going to use his magic unless there was no other option remaining, Merlin decided. He was going to wait for Morgana to play her cards before he played his. His eyes crossed and his breath came in short sharp gasps, creating small clouds of white before his lips and noes, like dragons smoke, he thought dimly as he struggled with oblivion.

But try as he might he couldn't focus and soon darkness nearly swallowed him whole. His head lulled to he side. He stayed like that, half awake, half unconscious. Half dead and half alive. Only snippets of activity registered. The flash of red lips, black hair and green cats eyes. Pain. A flash of bandages and potions. More pain. Mumbled words, and then nothing.

Slowly, Merlin came back to himself. He groaned. He shifted as much as he could while cuffed to the ceiling. He stretched his neck to look at the window, ignoring the searing pain that shot down his spine. It was dark. His heart fell. It was morning the last time he saw.

Merlin sagged in his cuffs letting his already damaged wrists to take his weight. He didn't move. It must have been hours, but only felt like a few minutes, the time seemed to be standing still for him, when Morgan decided to make an appearance. Merlin was feeling incredibly thirsty and his arms were nearly at the point of snapping but he was no where near his breaking point. He has survived worse. Morgana now stood in front of him. A satisfied smirk lingered on her perfect blood red lips.

"Your looking comfortable." She smiled wider.

Merlin glared at her. Letting the silence stretch until the room was filled with noise.

"Cat got your tongue, or rather, High Priestess got your tongue?" She said, and reached out and traced her thump slowly over Marlin's lips. Merlin resisted the urge to bit her thump as she still lingered on his lips.

Defiantly, he stared into her laughing, smirking strangely feline green eyes refusing to play into her games.

"You know, I came to see you two days ago." She spoke softly. Almost like she was in a light trance. Her thumb now tracing his high cheekbone. "I walked it to treat your arrow wound," She scowled. "I couldn't have you die on me before I got what I wanted from you," She said as if in explanation for her selfish kindness. "But when I walked in, you were so still." She looked at Merlin all the harder. She looked like demons were warring within her eyes and the battle was a bloody one. "I thought you were dead." She said. Her mouth twisted as if tasting something rotten. Her eyes were cold, and pitiless. No. She wasn't worried that he did die. She was irritated that he didn't. He wanted to laugh for some ridiculous reason, but refrained. He thought she wanted him to suffer? Why would she want him to die quickly? He stayed silent. He wanted to see what she would do next.

Suddenly she seemed to grow bored, not getting a reaction out of him, dropped her hand and took a few steps back, her liquid emerald eyes froze into two cold jade ponds.

"You may not speak now, but your screams will tumble from your lips in beautiful melody." She leaned in, so close he could feel her oddly cold breath on his face. She smelled of ambrosia and lavender. He couldn't help it as his eyes dropped to her glistening red lips. "And you will sing for me, one way or another, little Hawk." she called him little hawk, after the Merlin Hawk, the very first bird her Brother, Arthur had killed to please his father. She found it rather amusing.

Merlin licked his lips and swallowed, suddenly nervous. He had a feeling the screaming wouldn't be for pleasure. He watched mutely as Morgana picked up a long rod that she had brought with her and lovingly ran her hand over its tip that connected to a small whip of three leather straps with tiny little knives at the ends. Yes, he knew what was coming next.

She had magic at her fingertips but her weapon for inflicting pain was the vulgar method of whipping, Marlin thought contemptuously. He was a little insulted. Why are you critiquing her methods of torture? He thought, panic rising. He had been beaten, stabbed, poisoned, shot and put in the stock, but he has never been whipped, and he didn't know what kind of pain to expect and he was terrified. But one fear consumed him above all others. One fear that threatened him the most. Under no circumstances was the Witch Morgana to find out about Merlin being Emrys unless it was on his terms. However, he had a bad feeling that Mordred had told her already. Just the fact that Merlin was bound in magic suppressing collar and cuffs was a dead give away. He just didn't need to confirm it or give away how powerful he was. He didn't know how his magic would react to the unbearable pain that was undoubtedly on its way. His magic was currently under control, kept on a tight leash, but should his magic sense he was in danger it would react instinctively to protect him. Lashing out, it would break the hold of the collar and cuffs. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Just tell me this, Morgana, why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice husky from disuse. He knew he was stalling for just one more minute free from pain, and appealing to the sweet and innocent Morgana that she used to be would most likely be a disaster. Hopping that a little of the old Morgana was still in there.

She was silent for so long he thought she wasn't going to answer when suddenly she started speaking. "Lots of reasons," Morgana said sharply. "Lets see," Morgana smiled, tilting her head like a cat deciding what to do next to the terrified mouse in her paws. "First, you are Arthur's manservant and dearest friend, and hurting you means hurting him. Second, think of this as revenge for poisoning me while pretending to love me or how you somehow always find a way to interfere with my plans." She leaned in as it she had a secret to tell. "Don't doubt that I hate you as much as I hate Arthur," She spat him name.

She stood back to her full height and laughed, true happiness shone briefly lighting up her face before going dull once more. For a second she looked like the old Morgana. But what came out of her mouth made him realize she was gone. Truly and utterly gone, and it broke his heart all over again.

He remembered how difficult the choice had been. It was nearly impossible for Merlin to poison her, but he did, and it save a lot of people. Still, knowing what evil she would become could not stop his heart from bleeding all the more. Because as she lay dying in his arms, he felt what was left of his soul wither. That was until Morgana's sister Morgause spirited her away.

"I will enjoy watching you die. Slowly. In pain, and all alone. That's what you deserve." She hissed, the whip raised to strike his back.

"Not alone, I'll have your sparkling personality to keep me company, Morgana." Merlin said, dark mirth dance like shadows in his azure eyes, a small goofy grin on his face, just to irritate her. He couldn't help it. She was just someone he liked to antagonize. An angry Morgana was a dangerous Morgana, but a distracted one all the same.