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

Author: Lamiabellascrittore

Rating: T+

Warnings: Some light Violence and kissing- 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 more. Sorry for any errors, it becomes difficult after editing it so many times. It becomes a lot like a word repeated over and over again until it no longer makes any sense.

I hope you enjoy...

Chapter Nine:

To Love the Thing you Hate Most

Merlin's world had become a blur of bloody chaos. Nothing was held back as Morgana's assault kept coming. Only each time she came back to visit him, it was more bloody and brutal than the last. Almost like she was taking out some kind of frustration on him. He could easily guess. It was driving his very own thoughts amuck too.

How very destructive it was to love the thing you hate.

His head lolled to the side as he slowly regained consciousness. He lifted his head to see who had just entered the hut. Morgana, of course. With her she carried an old ancient looking chest. On it ruins of the old religion were carved into the black tare colored wood.

First it was whippings and burning salves. Then it was daggers. After that fire and branding. But out of all of that, none of it prepared him for what he had planned next he was sure.

He watched her with hooded eyes. She shut the door softly and cross the small room to her shelf of torture instruments. Quietly she put the chest down and turned to him. She wore the same black ratty dress wrap over her old silks skirts with a small dagger strapped at her hip. Her green eyes still rimmed in black shinned at him menacingly. The black around her eyes were thicker as if smeared from sleep, but the air of danger and instability never diminished.

"Hello, Morgana." Merlin rasped. His accent twisted her name on his tong with a deliciously dark lilt. "What do I owe the honor of your presence this fine day?" He asked sarcastically.

"I found something that might help with that attitude of yours, Merlin." She said happily. Stepping up in front of him.

"Oh, goodie!" He exclaimed. "You found more toys! You know I was getting a little bored with the other ones." He stressed the word toys because he found out that the more he acted as if this didn't faze him, the more angry she got, and the more desperate she became to erase him.

She leaned in and glared at him. He felt her breath on his lips, she was close enough to touch.

"One day, Merlin, I will find a way to make that infuriating light of yours die."

"I think you believe that you want that light to die, but I think that you would miss me as I am, to much." He smiled, an idea breaking through his pain filled fog. It didn't even really make sense, but if it let him stay alive, and out of pain for even a little while longer, it will be worth it. Maybe.

"Admit it. You'll miss me." He leaned forward, straining against his bonds. "You'll miss my voice." He said huskily, and licked his lips. "You'll miss the taste of my lips." He said lightly brushing them over hers. His eyes watched her closely. He smiled when her pupils expanded, and her breath hitch slightly. "You'll miss my touch." He breathed, letting his breath skim over her face. "You'll miss the feel of me inside you." He purred, each word brushing his lips over hers in light tempting caresses.

He smiled wider when she didn't pull away, and against better judgment he leaned into the kiss, straining against his bonds even more, drawing blood. He felt the warm liquid seep down his arms. He ignored it, and ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. Surprising them both, she opened, welcoming him. Her tongue darted out seeking his.

Without anymore prompting he swept his tongue inside like a tidal wave, taking and dominating her with strong, sure strokes. They battled for dominance, tongs thrusting and retreating in a frenzy of dark and dangerous passion.

Without warning she disengaged herself from his lips, panting, both wildly out of breath. They stared at each other for a long while. Neither of them moving, or speaking.

It was never butterflies with them. It was always fire. And it still was , no matter the anger, hatred and distrust between them. That fire always burned hotter than they could control.

She was flushed and her eyes shined brightly. Her lips slightly parted as she panted. The hatred was still there, but that fire? That passion and love? It was there shining at him as real and raw as any ragged wound.

His eyes were riveted to her. He was out of breath and even more drained than before. This had hurt him as much as any other torture session. Only it was his heart that was bleeding, not just his body. However, he felt a small victory. She wasn't as immune to him as she seemed. She was just as fucked up as he was, if not more so. He saw it in those minefield eyes of hers.

They stayed like that watching each other quietly for a long moment. Her glowering and him trying not to throw up. She gave him one harsh chaste kiss on the lips. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, and bit down so hard he hissed and pulled away. She smiled, and licked her lips, tasting his blood. Merlin licked his own and then spit at her feet. He hated the taste of blood. It tasted all coppery and stale.

"This changes nothing, Merlin."

"No. Nothing has changed." Merlin agreed painfully, he fought to keep his face from crumpling. As much as he wished it other wise, she was the darkness to his light and the hatred to his love. They were a fiery mess and nothing but destruction could come from their love.

She turned away and walked back to the chest she had brought in. She caressed it with a light hand, as if in reverence.

"What is that?" Ha asked softly.

She grit her teeth, molars grinding together. His voice was alluring and hypnotizing. She was shocked by the ferocity she responded to him. She trembled. His firm but soft lip and sweet taste had her craving for just one more kiss. She couldn't shake it. She wanted him. Badly. She felt her core quiver and her breasts tingle and tighten in need. She needed him in a way she had forgotten she could ever need someone.

She hated it. Truly and utterly hatted the power he wielded over her. She felt the need to destroy him. She wanted him to disappear, yet, the thought of him dead made the old her cringe. However, he didn't have to die, as long as he surrendered to her will.

"What's in the box, Morgana?"

"What will it take to break you Merlin?" She asked instead, ignoring his question.

"What is in the chest, Morgana." He asked forcefully. He didn't like it when she ignored him. He was nervous about what it could be. He knew that she brought a new torture device, but he at least wanted to know what it was so he could prepare, as best as he could.

"It's a Nathair, from the mountains of Asgaard. Harmless enough most of the time, but with a little persuasion, it can cause a man pain beyond all imagining." She said absently, not bothering to look back at him as she traced the ruins with sharp one finger, running one sharp nail over the spell work.

He noticed her hands still had his blood on them from when she bit him and had wiped it off on her hand. He shivered, remembering the feel of her lips on his. It was a long uncomprehensible feeling that he loathed to admit he missed.

"And what do you plan on doing with the Nathair?"

"I hope that this little beauty will help me break you."

"You can't break me, Morgana." There was nothing she could do that would. The only one, Merlin thought, that had that kind of power over him was Arthur. "I wont let you." He said boldly.

She visibly tensed. Her hands resting on the ancient chest clenched into fists. "Don't be so Naive, Merlin." She said mournfully. "Every man breaks." She squeezed her fists tighter, leeching her knuckles of color before shaking them out at her sides. "I know from experience," She released a breath she didn't know she was holding and opened the chest. Reaching one hand in she grabbed the hissing serpent in a gentile grasp and turned around.

"Everyone has a breaking point." She walked over to him slowly, the snake in her hinds hissed at him the closer she got. Gaius told him stories of such creatures and he had no desire to learn any more about them. He strained back away from her as the snake came precariously close to his neck. She smirked at him, amused, seeing his panic. "Lets see what yours is."