THIRTY-NINE: CONCENTRATION (239 days)

A collar.

They put him in a damn collar like a dog!

"Nice of you to finally show up," a familiar voice said, from somewhere behind Merlin. The king. Merlin knew him well enough to know that the derision in his voice was somewhat forced. He was trying to appear calm, unconcerned, in the face of their enemies. Which really wasn't the best sign. Arthur could be quite arrogant, and usually didn't feel the need to act unconcerned - he usually just was unconcerned.

Merlin glanced behind him, where he was sure to find Arthur. He hoped that he would only see the king. Because if he saw only the king, that meant the other knights were probably hidden away somewhere, and that meant there was a chance of a rescue.

Damnit.

All of the knights were sitting behind him, cuffs of cold iron - no collars, though; that seemed to have been reserved just for Merlin - around their wrists. Why would the villagers put them all in cold iron? Mordred was the only other sorcerer of the group, and that wasn't exactly a known fact. There was no reason to put the rest of them in restraints that blocked magic.

Merlin had no idea how they were going to get out of this one. Well, he had an idea. But there was a possibility that it wouldn't work. And it wouldn't be an immediate solution.

He smirked at Arthur. If the king could act calm and taunt him, he could do the same back. "You know me, sire. I'm always late." Then he looked at the villager closest to him, the one who seemed to be acting as their leader. "Take the collar off," he commanded.

The man - he was tall and thick-waisted, with a bald head - snorted derisively. "I don't take orders from animals."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, but he didn't rise to the bait. "That would be clever, except that it's not. Take the collar off."

"You're acting as if I should be afraid. But you and I both know that there's nothing you can do. Not without your magic."

Merlin remained silent. Had he been a mere sorcerer, Bald Head's statement would have been true. But Merlin was no mere sorcerer. He was a warlock, born of magic. Not even cold iron could truly separate him from his magic. Scathach's spell had been the only thing to truly work, but she was a goddess. A goddess of magic. It was only to be expected that she could render his magic useless.

These were just men, and they didn't have Scathach's spell. And even if they did have a spell like that, he doubted they would use it. They claimed to hate magic, so why would they use it, even against their supposed enemies?

While his magic had recoiled at the cold iron, it hadn't been separated from him, not like it was supposed to be. He wasn't like most other sorcerers. It would take a bit of time, but he was fairly certain that he could coax his magic back out. It wouldn't be easy, but it was possible.

He hoped.

"Not yet. But I will."

Bald Head just laughed again. Merlin had known that he wouldn't believe him. It was just as well.

The next thing that Merlin knew, the backs of his legs had been kicked with enough force to push him to his hands and knees on the ground. And then the villagers just walked away. They were still within sight, but barely. They didn't even leave anyone to guard their prisoners. They didn't seem worried about the men trying to escape.

And why would they? Without magic and hopelessly outnumbered, there was no chance of escape.

Gritting his teeth at the indignity of the position he was in, Merlin pulled himself up so he was sitting cross-legged. They hadn't cuffed his hands like they had the others, but even then, there was nothing he could do to help his friends. Not yet, at any rate. Cuffs of cold iron couldn't simply be picked open, not that Merlin knew how to do that, anyway. That was Gwaine's area of expertise. He would need the keys, or…Well, he'd have to work on that.

He looked at the others. As far as he could tell-from a brief glancing over - none of them were injured too severely. Mostly scrapes and bruises. It was clear that they'd each put up a fight, though, which was nothing less than Merlin would have expected. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly. The villagers weren't close enough to overhear them, but that was no reason not to be cautious. Just in case.

Gwaine shrugged, smirking slightly. "Nothing serious. I've had worse."

"What happened?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "We were caught, somehow. You were seen teleporting, by one of the villagers, apparently. They probably overheard part of our conversation, either right before or right after you left. So they knew that we knew about Alined. I thought you put spells around the camp, to keep unwanted visitors far away," the king said, his voice accusatory at the end.

"I did!" Merlin protested. "I think I did." He frowned, thinking back. Had he forgotten to put up the spells? He was fairly certain that he had put them up. But it was possible that he'd forgotten, or that he hadn't made as strong as he should have. He had been rather tired lately.

Arthur crossed his arms, pursing his lips. "And you still think you haven't been stretching yourself too thin lately? I told you, Merlin, that you needed to slow down and rest more. But of course, you chose to ignore me like you always do."

Merlin shrugged. He refused to admit that Arthur had a point. He had been stretching himself a bit too thin, and he'd ignored everyone's warnings. "I'm fine now. Kerenza made me take a nap." It wasn't entirely true. He certainly felt better than he had earlier in the day, but he was not fully rested and he knew it.

"Fat lot of good that will do, seeing as we're all wearing cold iron. You can't use that wonderfully powerful magic of yours."

Merlin smirked.

Arthur stared at him, his eyes widening comically. The others were staring at Merlin as well. Mordred was the only one who didn't look as least a bit surprised at the possibility of Merlin being capable of breaking cold iron. "Wait…Can you?"

Merlin's gaze flickered to the villagers. They were far enough away that he doubted they would be able to overhear him and anything that he said, but he didn't want to risk it. He would really rather they didn't know about his one possible advantage. Not yet, at any rate. "Don't be ridiculous, sire. No sorcerer could do that." Merlin had tried to explain to Arthur that he was more than just a sorcerer; he was a warlock. A warlock being someone who was born with magic. He was the only one, that he knew of. Arthur had seemed to realize the difference, so he hoped Arthur understood what he wasn't saying now. Ever since he had become Court Sorcerer, the king had actually gotten rather good at reading between the lines of what Merlin said.

But Arthur was still Arthur, and could be an idiot at times.

The king gave a nearly imperceptible nod, looking a bit relieved and extremely surprised. So he did understand. Good. "Do we know what their plan is, then?" Merlin asked, looking at the others again.

"They want to replace Arthur," Percival explained quietly, "with someone who will put the laws against magic back in place."

Merlin arched an eyebrow, absently scratching at his neck, digging his fingers underneath the cold iron. The collar chafed. "How do they expect to do that? They have no legal right to the throne. Even if Arthur were to die, Gwen would rule until his son came of age."

"I don't think they particularly care about legal rights, Merlin," the king said dryly. "Besides, they would probably force me to name one of them as my heir, and then have me abdicate my throne, instead of killing me outright. Otherwise, I'm fairly certain I would be dead already."

The sorcerer shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. I understand Alined and Trickler riling up the villagers to the point of them revolting. A war with your own people would be very beneficial for Alined. And it would leave Camelot vulnerable to other attacks, from other kingdoms. Attacks that Alined could also find a way to profit from. But how would he profit from simply having you replaced?"

"That's a fair point," Leon mused. "Replacing you doesn't guarantee any sort of war. In fact, this is probably the least likely way to start a war. If they killed you, and found a way to keep Guinevere from ruling as regent until the prince could take the throne, there would be a civil war for a new king. But this…It's too clean."

"Maybe Alined isn't aware of just what the villagers are planning," Mordred suggested.

"What do we do?" Elyan asked, looking at Merlin expectantly. In fact, they were all looking at Merlin expectantly, even Arthur, which didn't make any sense whatsoever. It was like they thought he was the brilliant tactician, when in reality, he wasn't. He just the sorcerer. He was powerful and valuable, he didn't doubt that, but he wasn't a strategist.

"I…" He scratched at the collar again. It was going to leave a mark, at the very least, because of course it had been fastened directly onto his skin, right above the neckline of his tunic. He just hoped it wouldn't scar. If it did, he was definitely going back to wearing the neckerchiefs again. Although, considering the fact that the spelled one he was currently wearing was also below the collar, he supposed they wouldn't cover any marks made by it. If only Kerenza's protections had hadn't been made ineffective by the cold iron.

He sighed. "It's going to take some time," he murmured. His magic seemed to be quivering, almost, curled in on itself deep inside him. At least he would be able to access it, eventually. He was confident that he could, anyway.

Gwaine practically growled, glaring at the collar around Merlin's neck. "I'm going to kill them," he announced softly, though the quietness of his words did nothing to detract from the venom in them.

The sorcerer shook his head. "They don't deserve to die. Not for a piece of metal. We don't know how much they're being influenced by the spell. Just…don't, Gwaine. Please."

The knight pursed his lips. He didn't disagree, but he also didn't agree.

Arthur nudged Merlin's calf with his foot. "What do you need in order to…you know?" he muttered, his lips hardly moving at all, his voice barely a whisper.

Merlin shrugged. "Concentration. I should be able to…I just need to concentrate."

The king narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Then he kicked Merlin onto his back on the ground - after making sure none of the villagers were looking in their direction - and whispered, "Pretend to sleep." Amazingly, the villagers hadn't seemed to spare a single glance in their direction. They had to know that they would be plotting escape.

Then again, they also had to know just how impossible escape would be.

Merlin didn't know what the king had up his sleeve, but he relaxed into the ground as much as he could, slowing his breaths down. He closed his eyes.

He heard Arthur sigh heavily and practically yell, "Useless sorcerer!" He was certain that it was loud enough for the villagers to overhear. Even if they couldn't make out the exact words, they would probably understand the general idea of what Arthur was saying. "Falling asleep on the job again, Merlin? Look at that, Leon, not even a twitch! He does this all the time. Just falls asleep. He could sleep through a battle with bandits with hardly a twitch…"

Merlin tried to hide his smirk as the rant continued. Most of it was untrue, of course. But the insults were falling readily - and rather loudly - from Arthur's lips. Anyone who knew anything about the king and his former manservant, and the way they often bickered, would believe the small farce, allowing Merlin the chance to concentrate on pulling his magic closer to the surface where it would actually do him some good.

If he didn't actually fall asleep in the process, though…


They never really stated in the show if women were allowed to rule. I'm assuming yes, for several reasons. When Morgan took the throne, no one said anything about it not being appropriate for a woman to rule. If there was some law against it, I'm sure Geoffrey would have mentioned it. Also, Queen Annis seems perfectly able to rule after her husband's death. Now, with a child on the way, I would assume that Gwen's right to the throne would really only be a temporary thing. Without a child, she would be the ruler if Arthur died (as happened in the show). That's how I see it all working in my mind.

And I formally apologize if any of the strategizing doesn't make sense. As I said before, I'm not very good at writing war stuff. At least, I don't think I am. Maybe it's coming off better than it seems? I hope. So, yeah. It is what it is. I do my best. I wasn't all that thrilled with this chapter, to be honest, which is one of the reasons it's taken a bit longer to update. I don't know why. Maybe it's just the fact that I don't really enjoy putting Merlin in the collar, even though the whole idea of the cold iron is intriguing to me. But I certainly wasn't going to let him be crippled by it. In the show, when he lost his magic, he seemed really terrified by some things. But I think that, having gone to the Crystal Cave (in this fic), he's so much more comfortable with himself and his abilities - all of his abilities. And he hasn't been totally separated from his magic.


Hachiko33200: He would be adorably amazing (and don't think that I haven't imagined it).

SisterOfAnElvenWannabe: Unfortunately, the decline can be crazy fast sometimes. I've seen it, and heard about it, often enough. My aunt works in hospice, and I do adult in-home care. So, yeah. I had one client who was doing really well, and then just took a downhill dive one night. We lost her the next morning. It's insane.

mersan123: I know. I'm sorry. I love and hate the collar. It is disturbing to see it on Merlin. But he's just so damn powerful that I'm not left with many options, especially when the enemies hate magic and wouldn't use it themselves.