Thank you so much once again for all of those lovely reviews, they really mean the absolute world to me, thank you!
Another huge thanks to my amazing beta, MerlinStar - I really couldn't do this without you honey!
Before long, prince and servant were deep within the forest. Reining his horse to a stop, Arthur heard Merlin clumsily try to do the same.
"Shh," the prince hissed sharply, suddenly not quite so pleased to have the old Merlin back. At least the new one seemed to have times of quietness, something that would have been handy during the hunting sessions. This one seemed to have no idea at all about the importance of stealth.
"It's not my fault, Drift…"
"Merlin, shut up," Arthur warned quietly, smoothly drawing his crossbow from behind his saddle. He knew without having to look that Merlin would be frowning, if not pouting by now; he really didn't seem to enjoy the hunts at all, though it was a mystery to the prince why. With a rustle of the bushes, a young buck suddenly shot from the safety of the trees, eyes rolling in terror as it leapt past them, causing Arthur to grin and Merlin to groan.
"Stay with the horses." Shouting the order over his shoulder, Arthur leapt from his horse in one swift movement, tensing his knees to allow them to take the impact of the fall. Crossbow in one hand, sword in the other, the prince sprinted into the thick undergrowth gleefully, feeling more alive than he had done for weeks. This was definitely the kind of lifestyle he was more suited to.
Climbing more slowly down from his own horse's back, Merlin caught his foot in the stirrup and landed with a soft thud on the ground, rubbing the sore ankle.
"Great," he muttered to himself, climbing to his feet and grabbing hold of the reins of Arthur's steed, knowing the war horse was close to bolting into the forest after his master.
"He drags me all of this way, and for what? To stay with the horses." Tugging on the rope to make the stubborn animal move, Merlin lead the black horse over to his own, both sets of reins held loosely in his hand. Knowing he was not going to join in the hunt, Arthur's horse had calmed down and was now more than content to just nibble at the grass by the warlock's feet, his constant training making him no trouble to handle. If only the same could sometimes be said about princes...
Tapping his foot on the ground, Merlin couldn't help but cluck his tongue impatiently as the seconds became minutes and the prince had still not reappeared. Occasionally, the warlock could just about hear the trampling of the bushes nearby, but due to the thick undergrowth, he wasn't sure whether it was the prince, or simply some poor creature trying to evade the hunting-crazed man.
Just as Merlin was beginning to get really bored, he felt the air temperature suddenly drop dramatically, causing the servant's breath to begin to steam in front of him. Frowning in both confusion and concern, Merlin let go of the reins, noting with dread how the horses had begun to stamp their feet and shake their heads nervously. He knew magic had that effect on beasts, and with Arthur off gallivanting, the servant was becoming increasingly anxious his master had once more managed to get himself into trouble; he did seem to be a magnet for it, after all. As Arthur's horse let out a shrill neigh of distress, Merlin made a split second decision and let the magic fill him up, ready to shoot out of his fingertips with just a mere flash of his eyes.
The second the power began to pump its way around his body, the scar on Merlin's chest exploded in a flurry of pain. Letting out a hoarse cry of surprise and pain, Merlin dropped to his knees, pressing his palms against his chest in an attempt to stop the pain, any thoughts of magic immediately driven from him. As the burning sensation rose in intensity, getting stronger with every second, Merlin felt like it was on fire and that any moment, the warlock himself was going to explode. Thrown onto his back in a desperate attempt to escape, Merlin felt himself begin to lose his grip on consciousness, the magic slowly ebbing out of him as he lost control and succumbed to nothingness.
As the magic drained from him, the burning slowly receded to a low throb, allowing Merlin to catch his breath, shaken. It was clear it had somehow been linked to his magic, yet he had managed to retrieve the training shirt with no difficulty at all. Trying to ignore the slow throb pounding through his skull, Merlin gradually pushed himself upright again, closing his eyes for a second to stop the world spinning. The horses were still fretting, making the warlock frown as his head gave another throb. A loud laugh suddenly echoed through his skull, making him wince in discomfort and stare around the small clearing, determined to try and find the source of whatever this was.
The laugh sounded again, and Merlin couldn't help but notice how eerily familiar it was. His eyes resting on his nervous horse, Merlin gasped as another consciousness suddenly overwhelmed his own, driving the warlock back within himself. Struggling for control of himself, Merlin called upon his magic, thankful when nothing else happened but the rush of energy immediately trying to spring to his aid. Fighting with every fibre of his being against the onslaught within his mind, Merlin somehow managed to realise that it had been within himself where the laugh had come from, not the surrounding area. Which meant, he couldn't help but think as he felt himself slowly being forced back, that Arthur would not have heard a thing and have no idea what was happening. With a final surge of power, the strange consciousness drove once more into his skull, causing the already weakened warlock to slip with his stream of magic. The second Merlin's defences were down, it attacked once more, this time completely overwhelming the boy.
Feeling himself slip into the black, Merlin knew only one thing. Claton was back. And this time, Arthur wouldn't be able to kill him. For this time, the sorcerer had returned by possessing his servant.
Arthur steadied the crossbow with his other hand, his sword tucked firmly under his arm. Taking in a breath as he had been taught, the prince tightened his finger on the trigger, his eyes locked on the young buck in front of him. He had followed the animal in circles, but this, finally, was his moment. Gently beginning to squeeze, Arthur began to pull back the trigger as a loud crashing sounded through the undergrowth. The buck looked up in alarm at the sound and took off into the trees, Arthur's arrow landing precisely where it had been the moment before. Cursing, Arthur spun around the face the noise and was surprised when he had to suddenly throw himself to one side to avoid being trampled by his own horse. Throwing his arm out to one side, Arthur somehow managed to catch hold of the flying reins and gently bought the creature to a stop.
"I tell him to do one thing," Arthur grumbled, leading the horse back towards the clearing, quickly working out what he was going to say to his useless lump of a servant. No doubt the boy already had some lame excuse ready.
Entering the clearing, Arthur frowned when he saw Drift, Merlin's trustful steed, gently nudging the boy at her feet, as if trying to rouse him.
"Sleeping again, Merlin?" Arthur commented dryly, as he rounded the horse, one eyebrow raised as he realised Merlin was indeed stretched out in front of Drift. However, when he stopped in front of the horse, any sarcastic comments were driven immediately from his head as he let go of Thunder's reigns in horror. Merlin did indeed appear to be asleep, if it wasn't for his chest.
The shirt was burnt, and without having to look any closer, Arthur knew it followed the exact pattern of the scar on his servant's chest, the one showing who the boy was servant to. The material flapped in the breeze from where the "A" had burnt through, revealing the nasty welt beneath. Arthur dropped to his knees, concern flowing through him as he took in Merlin's ashen complexion and the trickle of blood running from his nose as the boy refused to stir, despite Arthur's pleading.
Horrified that he hadn't been around to protect the servant, Arthur stared about him wildly, looking for whoever had done this to his friend. No one was in sight, and the horses appeared to be calm. The prince knew from experience that if there was still the threat of magic hanging about the air, the beasts would know, and there was no way they would be this relaxed.
"What the hell has happened to you, Merlin?" Arthur whispered into the silence. The very air around him seemed to be holding its breath as the prince grabbed hold of Merlin's wrist, frantically feeling for a pulse. There. Weak and unsteady, but definitely there, the pulse beneath Arthur's fingers had never felt so welcoming. Unsure of whether he should move the boy, Arthur bit his lip in anxiety, staring frantically at the still form in front of him. He should have known that Merlin was in no state to return to work, yet he could be so damn stubborn! It didn't matter to Merlin that he had practically half the kingdom warning him not to push his luck. No. Merlin did what Merlin wanted, and Arthur couldn't help but feel the consequence of that was the motionless boy at his feet.
Not knowing what else to do and hating himself for feeling useless, Arthur quickly secured the horses and drew their provisions out of some of the saddle bags. Lighting a small fire, he then shrugged his jacket off and, rolling it up, placed it under Merlin's head, knowing he could do no more until the warlock awoke. As a low grumble sounded through the air, Arthur glanced down sheepishly. If Merlin was going to stay unconscious for a while, then it made sense for the prince to at least keep his strength up. Pulling out a loaf of bread, Arthur tore a chunk off and sat back against a log, chewing, eyes never leaving his still servant.
Merlin couldn't help but groan as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. Cracking his eyes open, the warlock immediately winced as they were met with bright sunlight. Squinting against the light, the boy carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position, gasping as his chest stung with the movement. The instant he moved, he was aware of Arthur rushing over, the haste in which the prince moved an indication of how worried he had been, which seemed to imply to the warlock he had been out of it for quite some time now.
"Merlin? What happened? Are you all right? What hap-,"
"Arthur, shut up," Merlin groaned, the prince's naturally loud voice penetrating within his head and making it pound uncomfortably. Stunned into silence, Arthur offered Merlin his hand and gently pulled the boy to his feet. By the way his eyes were screwed up against the light; the prince could only guess his head was troubling him, providing an explanation for the servant's demand. As soon as he got to his feet and felt himself returning to full alert, Merlin was instantly aware of the lingering presence within his soul. It was like a bad itch he couldn't reach to scratch, yet at the same time, it was so much more. He could physically feel Claton, the darkness the sorcerer possessed trying to spiral its way into Merlin's own magic. Looking down, the warlock gasped as he took in the state of his shirt. He knew that the pain had felt like a burn, but it had never crossed his mind it may have actually burnt the fabric.
"What happened, Merlin?" Arthur questioned again, his voice much softer than before. Whilst he was thankful for the lowering in volume, Merlin knew the tone too well. He was not going to be allowed to get away with not answering again, not after what he had put the prince through in the last few days.
"I-,"
"Tell him and I kill him."
Jumping in surprise, Merlin stared blindly around him, looking for the source of the voice. Taking in Arthur's puzzled frown at his latest behaviour, Merlin felt his brow crumple in confusion. It was almost as if the voice had come from within him.
"I'm waiting, Merlin."
"Well-,"
"I mean it. One word and the prince dies." Swallowing hard, Merlin bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying out in horror. It seemed he could do more than just feel Claton's consciousness; the sorcerer really was alive within the boy.
"I fell asleep," Merlin responded bluntly, cursing himself for not coming up with a better excuse. Arthur's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he stared at his servant. After a moment, the look of disbelief morphed into one of hurt and disappointment as the prince seemed to realise he was going to say no more.
"Very well," he said coldly, ignoring Merlin's flinch. He had had it with the boy's lies, something major was obviously happening to the servant, yet he was refusing to allow anyone to help. First the strange zoning outs, then the attack during the training sessions, and now this?
"Prepare the horses, we're returning immediately to Camelot."
"Yes Sire." Feeling his eyes begin to sting at Arthur's tone, Merlin did as he was bid.
"Good boy," the mocking voice once more spiralled up from within his soul, causing the warlock to grind his teeth in fury. Unfortunately, not knowing how much control over his magic Claton had, Merlin didn't feel like he could risk warning Arthur without putting him in immediate danger. And if his enemy was going to use his own power against him, then there would be nothing Merlin could do to protect the prince either. Perhaps it was just better to play along for a little while whilst he established what it was Claton wanted.
"Revenge." Starting in surprise, Merlin paused with one hand holding Drift's saddle, preparing to swing himself onto her back. It was almost as if…
"Yes, I know what you're thinking. I'm part of you now. And you will do as I command or I will kill your princely friend, as well as everyone else in that God forsaken kingdom."
His breathing coming in quick breaths, Merlin found the terror beginning to build within him at Claton's words. If he did indeed know what the warlock was thinking, then there would be no way he would be able to trick him into either revealing himself or allowing Arthur to know what was going on.
"Any time today, Merlin," Arthur's bitter tone bought Merlin out of his musings and onto Drift's back. Nudging her into a trot, master and servant began the journey back home in a stony silence, Arthur furious, Merlin terrified.
As the horses were slowly bought to a stop, Merlin couldn't help but notice that his hands were shaking as he climbed down. Handing the reins to a waiting stable boy with a smile of thanks that didn't reach his eyes, Merlin silently followed Arthur back to the prince's chambers, worried about the conversation that would inevitably follow. He could tell by Arthur's posture that the prince was utterly livid, and if he was honest, Merlin couldn't blame him. He had given the prince absolutely no reason to trust he was fit to return to work judging on his recent behaviour, and part of him was just thankful Arthur hadn't yet had him arrested.
"I'll ask you one more time, Merlin," Arthur began the moment he had set foot in his chambers and gestured for the servant to shut the door. His voice was deathly quiet; the anger could be heard shimmering under the surface.
"And I want an honest answer. What happened?" Feeling a warning throb begin behind his eyes, Merlin knew without having to think about it that Claton was listening to every word and was not going to give him the chance to let anything slip.
"I told you," Merlin muttered, not able to meet the prince's accusing stare. "I just fell asleep." His eyes fixed on the floor, Merlin missed the muscle clench in Arthur's cheek as the prince fought to control his temper. Merlin had been through a lot, he was clearly still suffering. However, not knowing what was going on, Arthur couldn't help but wonder whether the boy was becoming a liability with the lack of information he was being so forth coming with.
"Return to your chambers, Merlin. I don't want to see you until you are called for."
Walking silently out of the door, Merlin waited until he had rounded the first corner before breaking into a sprint. Pelting his way through the twisting corridors, the servant found his vision was blurred by the tears trickling down his face. Flinging himself onto his bed, Merlin let out his emotions in one hoarse scream, muffled by his pillow.
"Poor Merlin. The prince doesn't trust him."
"Go away," Merlin growled, his teeth gritted in frustration and anger.
"I don't think so," Claton responded with a sneer, sending another throb into the warlock's head and causing his eyes to screw up in pain. Sitting up, Merlin shut his bedroom door with a flash of his eyes.
"Go. Away," he snarled, sending a stream of the most powerful magic he could muster into his soul. Immediately, he felt his breath catch in his throat as Claton didn't so much as flinch, but instead let the boy cast the magic upon himself.
"Ow," Merlin whimpered quietly as he felt the effects of his own magic, yet knew it had done nothing to rid him of Claton.
"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, have you not got it by now? I AM you. Anything that you try to do to me simply affects you."
Allowing his exhaustion and pain, as well as emotional strain, overcome him, Merlin buried his head in the pillow and cried, ignoring the voice mocking his every action.
So? Any thoughts?