Another huge thank you for all of those lovely reviews, you have no idea how much they are making me smile.
Huge thanks and hugs to MerlinStar as always for being awesome! I owe you big time, honey!
Arthur sat on the floor where he had landed, his mind reeling. Part of him was unable to believe what Merlin had done, but at the same time, the prince knew he hadn't meant to lose control like that. His horror at realising what he had done was a testimony to that. But even so, the servant had still done it, and there was no telling what else he was capable of doing without realising.
Climbing to his feet, Arthur suddenly frowned. He must be tired, for the prince could have sworn he just heard a scream that sounded suspiciously like his manservant. Shaking his head, Arthur pushed the matter from his mind. With not sleeping well the night before after being perched on a stool, then everything that had happened since, it was no wonder the prince was hearing things. Crossing his room with a sigh, he made to shut the door from where Merlin had left it open when something made him pause. His hand resting lightly on the handle, Arthur peered out into the corridor. Something wasn't right.
Snatching up his sword, the prince stalked out into the corridor, the weapon held defensively in front of him. Swallowing hard, Arthur realised what was troubling him so much – it was the silence. Normally at this time of the day, something could always be heard, the oncoming evening meaning servants were normally bustling about trying to get the day's work finished. But now, there was nothing, not even a whisper. Rounding a corner, Arthur quickly pressed himself into the wall as he heard faint footsteps heading his way. Holding his breath as they drew nearer and nearer, Arthur tensed. As the footsteps reached him, he sprang from his hiding place and leapt at the figure, sword held tightly in his outstretched hand. Swinging the weapon automatically, Arthur froze when he caught sight of who the figure was.
"Leon? What is going on? Where is everyone?"
"The prince," Leon stated, making Arthur start and look towards him in surprise There was something distant and cold about Leon's normally friendly voice and Arthur had just enough time to register the far away, grey look in his eyes before a sword swung suddenly out of nowhere towards his head.
Blocking the blow, Arthur dodged out of the way. He had seen that look before; it was the same expression Merlin had been wearing whenever Claton was in control of him. Although he had not known it at the time, Arthur had come to realise all of Merlin's strange behaviour could be traced back to the sorcerer.
"Leon?" the prince gasped, ducking under the knight's arm. Darting behind him, Arthur bought his foot sharply up and knocked the man's legs from under him. Immediately disarming Leon the second he hit the floor, Arthur took in the haunted eyes with horror. There could be no denying it; Leon was, somehow, under Claton's influence. Unwilling to hurt the man if he was indeed not in control of himself, Arthur placed his foot firmly in Leon's back as the knight began to wriggle. Thinking hard, Arthur repeated his earlier actions and bought the hilt of his sword down. Leon slumped immediately, allowing Arthur to remove his foot, sighing deeply. That was the second time in a day he had been forced to knock out one of his closest friends. Seizing the knight's limp form, Arthur began to drag the body across the hallway, before unceremoniously throwing him into a broom cupboard and locking the door behind him. He may not want to really hurt the man, but Leon had just tried to kill him. There was a limit for how considerate the prince could be.
Running a hand through his hair shakily, a sudden thought made Arthur freeze mid action. If Claton was controlling other people, then what about Merlin? Perhaps he had not imagined the scream after all. Swallowing hard, Arthur noted his hand was shaking as he lowered it back to his side. With someone as sadistic as Claton, there was no telling what he would have done to the warlock, especially if Arthur's suspicions were true and he had indeed returned. For what else could it have been? The prince knew Merlin would fight hard to stop the sorcerer from hurting anyone, but who was going to protect him from Claton?
Thinking back on their argument, Arthur suddenly realised precisely what it had been about. It hadn't been about the fact Merlin was a sorcerer. No. It had been about the fact he hadn't told Arthur. Realising he had pretty much accepted what his friend truly was, Arthur smiled softly as he considered he had only been hurt because he had thought Merlin had not trusted him, nothing more. Deciding it was about time he found the servant, the prince set off, rounding the far corner just in time to see a figure disappear around the other end, one that made his heart beat uncomfortably fast with dread. Heading directly towards the throne room, there could be no denying that menacing walk. Claton was indeed back.
Sprinting fast after the retreating back, Arthur skidded to a stop outside the doors, pausing in confusion when he heard nothing amiss from within. There was nowhere else Claton could go, yet there was absolutely no sound of anything wrong from inside the room itself. Slowly drawing his sword, Arthur bounced on the balls of his toes, counting down under his breath. As soon as he reached one, the prince burst through the doors, stopping suddenly when he caught sight of his enemy standing directly behind Uther.
"Arthur," Claton began, his mouth twisting into an evil sneer. "We were just talking about you. Do come in."
"Father?" Arthur called, the concern evident in his voice. What was going on? As Uther turned to look at him, the prince felt his stomach plummet. The same grey, far away look was present in the king's eyes as well. Glancing around the room fearfully, Arthur felt the roof of his mouth go dry when he took in everyone else's expression. The same. Even Gwen, still standing respectfully behind Morgana's chair, was quite clearly under the control of the sorcerer.
"What have you done with Merlin?" Arthur suddenly found himself yelling, the concern building up for his conspicuously absent servant.
"Haven't we had this conversation once before? He's dead." Claton responded silkily, pretending to inspect his fingernails whilst watching the prince's reaction. He wasn't disappointed. Instantly going pale, Arthur felt his legs tremble beneath him. He couldn't be. His mind going numb with shock, Arthur could only think of one thing. Merlin had thought the prince had hated him when he fled from his room. And if he was truly…
Suddenly squaring his shoulders, Arthur met Claton's gaze head on.
"You're lying. You wouldn't have killed him without a spectacle, not without me being around to see it. That is how you work, Claton. You wouldn't have been able to resist showing it off. He is not dead."
"All right, all right, so he is still alive. He won't be for much longer though. I have to say, I loved your little fight earlier, really got the juices flowing, if you know what I mean." Tipping the prince a wink, Claton smirked as Arthur tightened his grip on the sword. Bracing himself, Arthur watched the sorcerer guardedly as he whispered something into Uther's ear.
"Arrest him," Uther instantly ordered, and every guard and knight in the room – of which there had been a considerable number – drew their weapons as one and advanced on the prince. Before he had time to quite comprehend what was going on, Arthur felt his sword knocked from his hand as his arms were seized. Try as he might, he couldn't shake off the iron grip and soon found himself being slowly dragged backwards, despite his increasing struggles. Whatever Claton had done to the men, it was making them annoyingly hard to stop. Just as he disappeared through the door, Arthur called back to Claton.
"Merlin will stop you. He is more powerful than you know."
"No he isn't," Claton's sing song voiced floated back through the open door as Arthur was dragged away. Continuing to struggle, Arthur felt an increasing fury build up inside him, yet he could do nothing against the numerous guards surrounding him; they seemed not to notice anything the prince threw at them. Feeling a sense of hopelessness wash over him as his feet hit the hard steps leading down to the dungeons; the prince couldn't help but hope that Merlin was in a better situation his current one.
Watching the entrance blearily, Merlin hoped Arthur was safe, wherever he was. The shield Claton had summoned seemed to be impenetrable for the warlock, the glowing bands around his wrists and ankles preventing him from doing anything more than glaring. Whilst Arthur may have the power to make grown men run for cover under his glare, Merlin's was doing nothing to shift the barrier holding him prisoner.
Almost absentmindedly tugging on the bonds around his wrists, Merlin pulled as hard as he could, previous attempts meaning he knew it would achieve nothing, yet he couldn't just sit here, knowing Arthur was in danger. When nothing happened, Merlin sighed deeply. Pulling was obviously having no effect, he was going to have to try something different. He couldn't do nothing. In a vain attempt in the hope his own magic would overcome Claton's, Merlin decided he would resort to magic to try and free himself. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he watched the entrance with narrowed eyes, biting his lip as he tried to work out what the best course of action would be. He knew from prior experience what using magic against the bonds could do, but considering the position he was in, the warlock didn't feel like he had a lot of options. Taking a deep breath against what he was almost sure was coming, Merlin braced himself.
"Solvo mihi ex meus vinculum."
With a sudden exclamation of surprise, the young warlock felt himself shooting backwards a few paces, hitting the wall behind him, hard. Trying to focus on something solid rather than his spinning head, Merlin took a few calming deep breaths, the way Gaius had taught him for whenever things became too bad. Knowing Claton had not slipped up in any way, Merlin sank down the wall, his head resting on the top of his knees, trying to stop tears from leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He felt utterly hopeless, something Claton seemed to be gifted at making him feel. As if knowing his thoughts were on the twisted sorcerer, Merlin subconsciously scrubbed a hand across his chest. The burn, whilst it had stopped hurting, had begun an insistent itch.
More irritating than the damaged flesh was not knowing what was going on up in the main part of the castle. Not knowing what Claton had planned for Camelot, Merlin wasn't sure whether he would be trying to hide his return or let everyone know. In a strange way, the warlock hoped it was the latter. At least that way Arthur would know what was going on, and with any luck, come looking for his servant. Merlin knew he had handled it badly with the prince; he should have tried to reassure Arthur he would never use his magic to harm him, or anyone for that matter. Instead, he had just let his built up frustration come bursting forth, and probably ruined any chance of Arthur truly accepting who he really was. A small part of him realised that Arthur must have accepted the truth to some extent by the fact he hadn't killed him or had him arrested. Maybe there was hope yet…
Watching the protected entrance, Merlin sighed deeply, trying to ignore the fact his stomach was beginning to growl in protestation. If someone didn't find him soon, then any small flicker of hope he was imagining now would certainly be gone.
Pacing in frustration, Arthur watched the figures outside of his cell guardedly. To start with, he had thought Claton was having another of his twisted jokes when he had led Morgana and Gwen into view, both ladies armed. With a mocking smile, the sorcerer had instructed them to guard the prisoner, whatever it took. As they had both snapped to attention, Arthur knew without a doubt they were both under his control, his instructions meaning they would do anything to prevent him from escaping. As he turned to face the wall again, the prince's hand suddenly shot to his belt, smirking with satisfaction as it closed around his keys. Claton seemed to have forgotten the fact that, as Crown Prince of Camelot, it was pretty awkward to lock Arthur in the dungeons, especially if no one took the keys from him. It was just a matter of whether Morgana could still be goaded.
"Sooo," he drawled slowly, taking up a stance of indifference on the far side of the cell, but prepared to spring at any moment. "He can't think I'm much of a threat if it is you two guarding me. I mean, a girl? I'm actually offended."
As Morgana stiffened slightly, Arthur smirked. She always had been easy to wind up, especially when it came to jibes about her being a woman and therefore weak. There was too much of her father in her, and no doubt she had been around a certain prince too long. Whilst they may not have been blood relatives, Morgana certainly possessed the Pendragon pride. The only problem was how to rile up Guinevere.
"Like you two would be the slightest match for me if I wanted to leave," Arthur continued, noting with delighted how Morgana's hand had tightened around her sword. It was now only a matter of time.
"Neither of you could fight to save your lives," Arthur was struggling not to laugh out loud, for Morgana looked angry enough to kill him. Unfortunately, Gwen shot her a calming look and the Lady breathed in deeply, relaxing. Deciding it was time to change his target, Arthur racked his brains for something he could use against Gwen. There was only one thing that came to mind, but the prince was reluctant to use it, as it was indeed a low blow. But every moment he was stuck in here, Claton was controlling more and more people. Not to mention whatever had happened to Merlin. The prince was sure the warlock was still alive, but his absence was worrying Arthur more than he would ever admit. The boy could use magic, meaning if he had yet to show back up, something bad must have happened to him. And whilst the thought of Merlin being powerful unnerved the prince somewhat, he knew he couldn't go up against Claton without his servant at his side. As Morgana fidgeted once again, (Claton may have had control, but it was clear they were still there somewhere), Arthur took a deep breath, hoping Gwen wouldn't remember this.
"It is not as if it is hard to get out of here. I mean, honestly, if even a peasant blacksmith could do it, how hard could it be?" As soon as the maid froze, Arthur knew his taunt had worked. Hating himself for doing this to the sweet girl, the prince continued.
"But I suppose he didn't get very far. But that was being guarded by people who could fight, not girls."
That did it. Morgana spun around, her eyes flashing dangerously, but this time, Gwen didn't try to stop her. Instead, the maid watched with impatience as her mistress pulled out the keys and unlocked the door, both of them rushing in, their swords raised, the second it was open.
Immediately tensing, Arthur watched with calculating eyes at the rushing women. Ducking under Morgana's arm, he grasped Gwen's wrist and wrenched the weapon from her hand. Throwing himself at her, Arthur sent the maid flying, crashing straight into Morgana and sending them both sprawling. Plucking the sword from Morgana's hand, Arthur sped out of the cell, pausing only long enough to grab the keys from where they had fallen. As the two struggled to their feet, winded but unharmed, Arthur slammed the door shut. Locking it with his own keys, he then pocketed the spare ones and strode from the dungeons, knowing the two of them would now be safe.
Climbing the steps almost silently, Arthur paused when he reached the top. He may be free, but the prince had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do next. He couldn't go up against Claton, not on his own at least, and he couldn't turn to any of his knights, nor his father. Coming to a decision, the prince crept from the shadows and stole down the corridor, ears straining for any approaching guards. There was one thing he could do. He could find Merlin.
Creeping down the corridor, Arthur felt his heart was going to jump through his chest when he heard approaching footsteps. Glancing around frantically, the prince had just enough time to jump behind a tapestry before Claton came striding into sight, a band of knights following obediently at his heels. Cursing himself for not thinking of a better hiding place, Arthur held his breath as they walked past, listening intently for any clues towards Merlin. To his astonishment, he got more than that.
"You, tall man. I need you to go down to the lower levels and set off the trap in the first cave. I don't want anyone finding the whelp; it is too obvious where he is now."
"Sire," the man bowed deeply, causing Arthur to grind his teeth in silent fury, and marched off. As the remaining party moved off in the opposite direction, Arthur slipped from his hiding place. Bingo.
Following the knight, Arthur stole along, slipping between the shadows, barely visible. He knew exactly who Claton had been referring too. Little did the twisted man know he had just made a massive mistake. Hoping it would be Claton's downfall, Arthur waited until the knight had started descending the stairs before springing on the unexpected man. Propelling himself forward, the prince crashed headlong into the man's back and sent them both tumbling down the stairs. Anxious not to be discovered, Arthur quickly clapped his hand over the knight's mouth, seeking out the pressure points in his neck. Ignoring the struggles, Arthur concentrated as he slowly exerted pressure, only letting go when the man slumped in his arms, unconscious. Knowing he had a good few hours before the man came round, Arthur dragged him away from the bottom of the steps, before sneaking forward, seeking out the caves.
Peering into the first one he came across, Arthur knew without a doubt this was the one Claton had been referring too. The very air seemed to tingle with the presence of magic; something powerful had taken place down here. Stepping forward, Arthur approached the entrance, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light. After a few moments of squinting helplessly into the dark, the prince eventually made out a shape huddled against the far corner, his position defeated. Sighing in relief, Arthur couldn't stop a small smile crossing his face. Merlin was all right.