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

Author: Lamiabellascrittore

Rating: T+

Warnings: Violence and stuff- Don't like it- Don't read it.

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 probably many more.

I hope you enjoy...

"Do you know why people like violence? It is because it feels good.

Humans find violence deeply satisfying.

But remove the satisfaction, and the act becomes...hallow.

- Aaron, from The Imitation Game.

Chapter Seven

Confidence is Everything

Morgana wanted to wipe that ridiculous grin off his face, permanently. Insufferable, she grumbled internally. How could he still smile when he was in such a quandary?

"My men will find Arthur, and when I do, I'll make him watch as his beloved manservant is beaten within an inch his life. Then I'll kill Arthur as you watch, hopeless and helpless, to do a thing." She said hopping to swipe that ever charming grin off his face.

"You wont find him." Merlin said, still smiling softy to himself, knowing that the spell he used to obscure their tracks would hide the king until he was well within the walls of Camelot.

Unless the idiot came back to look for you, a voice supplied.

"You are awfully confident for a servant, Merlin." Morgana murmured nastily.

He only smiled. A knowing glint in his lazuline eyes. She once liked that he was a servant, and not some rich arrogance prat. He knew what she liked, and she hated him all the more for it.

With a flick of her wrist, before he could brace himself, she brought the whip down, hard, on his unblemished back. He grit his teeth against the pain, refusing to utter a sound. It was unlike anything he could have imagined.

Silent tears coursed down his cheeks, his eyes held tightly shut against the on-slot of never ending lashes. One, after another, after another they rained down on his back. Oh, it hurt. It was unlike any pain he has yet to experience. How was it that pain invaded every inch of his body when the lashes only met with his back, he wondered dizzily. His very being ached.

Merlin grit his teeth and his throat emitted a deep groan that would have been a scream, had his jaw not been tightly clamped shut. He was not going to give Morgana the satisfaction by hearing his screams.

Something stirred inside him, as if waiting for him to allow it lose. His magic was giving him a small thread to cling to, grounding him in reality, when that pain wanted to drown him in darkness. He grabbed on to his magic tightly, it could not be reveled, no matter what. He groaned as the whip came down harder than the rest, slicing further than any of the others.

No matter what, he chanted in his mind, determined to beat her at her vicious game. Merlin was now in a silent war to keep his magic under tight control, barely surviving the battle that was Morgana's brutal torture.

Morgana stopped to admire her handy work. Merlin's back was covered in long, bloody slashes all at different angles, not one lash the same.

She smiled, obviously proud of herself. She ran her fingers down his back, getting no response from Merlin. She put the tip of her finger under his chin and raised him to meet her gaze, wondering if he had passed out.

His once clear azure eyes clashed with hers. They were cloudy and distant, but that persistent defiance still stayed strong. With a slow smile, making sure Merlin's eyes stayed on hers, she brought a finger, still covered in Merlin's blood, to her lips and licked it off slowly. At that Merlin's eyes turned black and he shuddered with disgust. Morgana's smile only grew with his reaction.

"Luckily I brought you something to help keep your wounds from being infected." She said, proud of herself.

Merlin tensed. Alarm bells going of in his head like a dragons roar. Morgana would not be treating any wound of his. What was she up to? He wondered, nervous. Panting with the burn and sting of his many open wounds, he braced himself for what she had planned next.

Morgana lathered on an ivory salve.

At first he felt nothing, and then the pain hit, and he screamed, his pride be damned, did he scream. It was like he hit a whole new level of agony. His back arched and despite having no energy, he still managed to lift himself by his wrist trying to get away from her. It was a burning that he felt all the way to his bones, that spread to his face, that made him want to grab a sword and run himself through just to make it stop.

"Salt," Morgana said with a proud smile. "And lemon." She added, breathless. She looked flushed and feverish, as if Merlin's pain gave her unexpected pleasure.

"You know, I will break you Merlin." She said joyously. She didn't just want him to suffer, she wanted him to crumble. To burn. To feel as much pain as she did when she had first confided in him about her fears, and about magic.

"I will bend you to my purpose, and you will be helpless, unable to resist my every whim." She said brushing her lips gently over his. "You will help me destroy everything you have been trying to protect." She smiled radiantly, carefully looking into his pain glazed eyes. "Starting with my brother, King Arthur."

With his remaining strength he turned his head away from her. She gave a short bark and stepped back. She turned on her heel and left him with her laughter ringing in his ears. He had barely even registered her words over the frantic beat of his heart.

Merlin's tears and sweat were now mixed together in a salty sheen. He sobbed silently, his movements, his reactions, no longer in his control. His back was on fire but the pain was slightly more tolerable.

Still his face twisted in utter agony. He shook as his body tried to adjust to the shocking pain. His bones felt like jelly and his arms refused to hold him up any longer, and he could only hang limply, his shackled wrist the only thing keeping him up. The cuffs cut into his wrists causing blood to start leaking down his arms, mixing with his sweat and tears. His bare feet hung limply a few inches above dirt floor.

Suddenly he bent over as much as he could and retched. Nothing came out as he hadn't eaten for what could have been days. He couldn't remember. Still, his body made a decent attempt to vomit his lungs out.

At last it stopped, and he started to feel himself get lost to unconsciousness. It was so tempting, but he couldn't. He couldn't, he chanted, trying to stay focused. But he didn't remember why he needed to fight anymore. He couldn't...something. He couldn't... give in to something...He couldn't pass out! He shouted at himself.

He had already lost his pride and dignity to her the moment he gave into his pain and screamed, he wasn't going to lose his life too, let alone let her use him to kill Arthur. But fight as he might the darkness swallowed him whole.

Not even the swirl of his magic coming to his aid could keep his eyes from closing. He just hopped they would open again...