There you go.. third chapter~
As for me, OP tomorrow. Cheers for anesthetic; but keep your finger crossed for me? :] Meanwhile: enjoy the fic and do let me know what you think~

~.3.~

"I can't watch this," Arthur said with disgust, and turned to leave his father as he stood on the high wall looking down at the gathered ones. Uther looked after his son with furrowed brows, making a mental note to talk to him about this later. After all, a prince cannot show weakness when casting judgment on sorcerers.

Death. It was just one word and anyone being marked a 'sorcerer' was justified to hear it sentenced upon them.

What Uther didn't know was how that opinion started to change in his son's mind.

And neither of them knew of the guest that was standing around in the crowd, getting suspicious glances for his looks (and his smell). For none knew Merlin has been dropped off by Kilgharrah in a clearing nearby, and he set foot in Camelot at sunrise, just in time to witness an execution of a man accused of using magic.

The king announced the verdict and the executioner did the rest. People gasped and cried out and turned their heads, only one person couldn't take his eyes off the horrible scene, and he lacked the voice to say anything. He just started backing off, bumping into anyone that was behind him, eventually hitting the guards and from there on he didn't know what had happened, but there were fists and pushing and shoving and next thing he knew he got grabbed and dragged off and tossed into a dark cell.

.

'Well, you did it now, Merlin..' he thought, and curled up in the corner of the cell; and waited. Gods know what he waited for, but he knew for a fact that he could not use magic to get out. Kilgharrah had made him promise that no matter what happened, he mustn't use his magic, for anyone to see; especially not in front of Uther Pendragon.

But where was Arthur in all this? There were so many people between the walls, and now he was in this dark cell, and no idea why and how he would get out. How would he find the prince? If all seemed lost; he would just break free and make a run for it, he figured. But those walls looked mighty thick, and the bars seemed pretty strong, and he wouldn't even know which way to run. There weren't any windows either, through which he could glance at the world outside his prison.

Time stretched on and no-one came. He could hear distant voices, but no-one came to see him.

'Kilgharrah.. Kilgharrah… why have you done this to me?'

He felt abandoned, looking into the darkness as no answer came to his call; not throughout the day, and not that evening. He didn't want to risk calling out to him aloud. But he continuously called out to him in his mind's voice. They always talked like that. There was no need for words. It even hurt his throat whenever he did use his voice to chant a spell.

Merlin kept calling the dragon, but his pleas were left unanswered. Maybe he was out of his reach, maybe he was trying to help.. or maybe, he was far gone, as at last he had managed to get Merlin back to be amongst people, and finally rid himself of the human companion..

The warlock curled in on himself. The cell was getting even colder as night settled over the land. He realized he's been in the dark cell for a good while, and no-one came. No-one heard him. No-one cared. He kept calling and calling, and not minding the tears that were streaming down his face, but silence was his only answer. Eventually, he lost track of time.

Eventually he fell into a restless sleep.

.

Arthur was starting to have the feeling his father took him to be a simpleton, as he strode across the hallways, making his way to the training grounds, from yet another long and pointless lecture about the dangers of magic. It was starting to annoy him.

He had his own ideas now, but gave up on trying to hint to his father that there might be a different side to it all; that an old woman might just want to enchant her potion to ease the pain in her aching legs; that a man would cast a spell on his crops to make them grow faster just so he could feed his family; that.. not all that was magic, was always bad. But he lost his patience and gave up, and the king would get over worried and call for Gaius to check if his son was well or had been enchanted. It was enough that Uther ordered him bed rest after he returned, despite Gaius saying he was perfectly well. A fact that the old physician marveled at, looking at the scars the prince bore.

Now, he started to see the difference; started to notice that what up until then he perceived as cautiousness on his fathers side, was rather bordering paranoia and madness at times. But he knew better then to voice it. However, since refusing to watch executions, his father made sure to fit in his schedule for them to have daily talks about the values on which the kingdom was built and the threats that magic represented against all that.

And truth be told, Arthur was getting bored of it. Really bored. But he had to feign an interest and swallow his anger, every time his father made remarks on magic users that he knew for a fact that – at least for one person - were untrue. And each time, his mind wandered to the cave where he had spent those days healing and being tended to by none other than a magic user; a kind and caring one too.

The training field proved to be a good place of escape. The only place his father rarely followed him to, and he could take his mind off the turmoil inside him and let off some steam on the training-dummies. He felt restless and the training helped him get distracted enough.

Uther noted that he was spending far too much time with his sword, to which he simply said, he had to make up for lost time and get back in shape, and keep his knights fit as well, for who knew when enemies would strike.
The king nodded in agreement and smiled proudly at his son's thoughtfulness; oblivious to the bitter taste the young man had in his mouth. Arthur wondered how long he could keep on doing this.

There wasn't really a problem that needed solving, there wasn't a threat needing to be looked out for, there was just… something missing. The prince felt agitated and restless, and he knew it couldn't go unnoticed for long. He was still healing, yet he kept pushing himself, in order to escape getting too fidgety. Sometimes he felt worn out from the training, and Leon did approach him at one point to see if there was anything troubling the prince that he would like to talk about; but as much as he trusted the knight, he brushed the question off, making up some weak excuses. He knew the knight wasn't buying his made up stories. However, he also knew that his right hand man understood him more than anyone in the whole castle, and gave the prince time to get over whatever had happened in the days he was missing; for which the young man felt grateful.

Each time he went to bed, he remembered the haystack that Merlin was probably sleeping on at that moment; and each time he ate sausages and grapes he thought of the fish and berries his caretaker would bring for him, to the cave while he healed.
Slowly, he realized there wasn't a moment of the day that he didn't think of the young man, and he found himself wondering just what he could look like without the dirt and rags on him; what his voice would be like if he could speak; what his scent would be like if he'd take a proper bath. He played out little scenes in his head, slowly shaping an image about Merlin; clean, in decent clothes, and taken care of. If he closed his eyes, he could see the warlock's clear blue gaze in front of him, his lopsided grin, his skinny arms; yet he was missing his voice. He pictured bits of him; he had the details, but was missing the whole picture, and felt the warlock was slowly slipping away from his memories. And the prince realized, as awkward as it felt, that he was missing him, and it saddened him.

After another futile effort to keep Merlin off his mind, Arthur started going through his schedule for the day (for the Nth time), while going down the last fleet of stairs, when he heard something that seemed familiar in a way and caught his attention in an instant.

Two guards were standing at the bottom of the staircase, talking and unaware of the prince's presence.

"..I swear he smelled of herbs and mud," one said, and the other one laughed. "Felt kind of sorry for him though. He looked really terrified. But the king seems to be too preoccupied to see what's to be done with him, so until further orders he's stuck there."

"Matters of the state are more important than some stinking savage." The other one nodded.

..herbs and mud..
And at that moment, Arthur felt something grip onto his chest and stepped in front of the guards, to which they both stood at attention in an instant.

"Sire!"

"At ease," the prince said. "Where is this man you talk of?" he asked, masking his nervousness by fiddling with his gloves. Could it be? Could it really be?

"In the lower dungeon, Sire," the guard replied.

"Take me to him," Arthur said, and the guard nodded and turned around to lead the young man to the cell, where said man was held. He had no reason to question the prince's request, and Arthur was secretly happy about that.

He felt that grip tightening, once they were heading deeper into the dungeons, and he felt the temperature drop slightly, as in this area it was significantly cooler then the other cells above, these ones having no windows either.
Arthur felt his mind race with thoughts, wondering why they decided to put the man in the lower dungeons. But he would have time to think about that, perhaps even ask his father, but now..

"Here he is, Sire." The guard stopped at a cell door and stood waiting for further instructions, holding the torch closer to the bars for the prince to better see the occupant of the cell.

Arthur held his breath, stepping closer as he searched the cell. In the dim light and at a first glance it seemed empty, but then there in the corner he saw a dark figure curled up. Knees pulled up and head resting on them, while he was slightly slouched against the wall next to him.

"Why has this man been locked up?"

"He was causing commotion the other day at the execution, my Lord," the guard replied and Arthur gasped inwardly. 'Oh no… Merlin saw that?' He quickly figured the imprisoning must have taken place after he left the royal terrace, refusing to watch a man getting his head chopped off.
So the young warlock had come to the city, and he managed to pick the time to witness a magic user being executed. It wasn't the way the blonde would've wanted him to see Camelot for the first time.

"Did he say anything?" he asked.

"No, Sire. He mumbled something but nothing coherent."

"Was he injured?"

"No, Sire. Not that I know of.." the man frowned. It wasn't like they looked at the well-being of whoever they toss into the dungeons.

Arthur hesitated for a moment, then stepped even closer to the iron bars; putting a hand on the cold rod and scrutinizing the occupant of the cell.

"Merlin," he called out, to the guard's surprise, but the prince ignored the man looking at him oddly. However the figure didn't move. Arthur couldn't help but feel a wash of worry run through him. It's either not him, or..

"Merlin!" he called out again, this time a little louder, and the messy flocks started to shift and a pair of scared and sleepy blue eyes looked at him, reflecting something of the torch's light. Arthur smiled with relief as he recognized his savior. The warlock sat up straight from the wall he was leaning against. He looked at the blonde man with a mix of surprise and a little relief, but didn't move from where he sat, glancing at the guard.

"Release this man," he said.

"I'm.. sorry, prince Arthur, but the kings' orders were.." the guard started, but Arthur cut in.

"I know this man." His words came out a sort of snarl; not quite how he intended, but he couldn't help it. Merlin was a magic user and he feared what might become of him, should his father get to him first and become suspicious. And let's face it, his looks alone drew enough attention. "Release him. You can tell my father I have taken him into my custody."

Arthur was in the cell as soon as the guard opened the door. Merlin still hadn't moved. He just sat looking at the approaching blonde with eyes somewhat shining; a little uneasy and a little surprised that this was actually happening; that Arthur had come for him.
He couldn't move however, he felt cold. It numbed him and his body felt like it was disobeying when he tried to shift from his position; the same one he'd been in since he got thrown into the cell.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said softly and held his hand out. The warlock looked at it, then grabbed it, and as the prince pulled him to his feet he noticed the dark haired man was shivering. His hand was cold - incredibly cold - and Arthur wondered if the cold cell had any other effect on him, considering he always had a dragon to keep him warm up until now. He was secretly happy the man was smart enough not to use magic to make fire in the cell.

Merlin looked at him in awe, and still felt like he was dreaming as the young man pulled him to his feet. Keeping a hand on the wall, he looked at the blonde with a wary and questioning look.

"I'm taking you out of here," he said in a barely audible tone. However, once urged to walk, the warlock's numbed feet refused to co-operate and the very first step made his knee buckle. Arthur quickly grabbed his arm, putting it around his neck and grabbing Merlin's waist to support him.

There was a certain panic the dark haired boy could sense on him. The young warlock wanted to tell him that he was fine, his feet only having fallen asleep as he was crouched, but he knew the prince wouldn't be able to understand him anyway.

"I'm taking him to the court physician," Arthur said to the guard, and led the young man away from his captivity.

As soon as the circulation started to get back into his feet, Merlin felt it like knives and needles, and tried to motion to Arthur to stop and wait a little, but the prince took it the wrong way, thinking the warlock was trying to get away.

"It's alright, Merlin. No-one's going to harm you. We're almost there," he said reassuringly, and picked the pace up to get him to the physician as soon as possible. Merlin only let out a pained moan as response.

"Did they.. did they do anything? Did they hit you?" Arthur swallowed. He feared the reply but Merlin just shook his head. He himself didn't know what really had happened, only knowing that what he saw was a shock for him. The memory made him tremble again.

The little trip towards the court physician's chamber went smoothly and Arthur was secretly happy they didn't run into anyone, not even a servant, but just before the last turn, his joy was short-lived.

"Arthur? What are you doing?" An all too familiar voice called out, and the prince stopped and turned slightly to see his father looking at him; no doubt surprised at the scene in front of him.

"I'm taking this man to Gaius."

"I can see that. But what of him?" Uther asked and stepped closer, rolling up the parchment he had in his hand and stopping to stand akimbo in front of his son and the messy figure he was supporting.

"Father, you had this man locked up. But the dungeon is no place for him," Arthur said.

"Why so?" the king asked with honest curiosity, however unsure if he should be amused or worried of the situation; a fleeting thought making him wonder if his son was losing his mind and carrying prisoners out of their cell.

"The patrol a few days ago. Remember, I told you about the man who saved me after I got wounded and went missing? Father, this man saved my life. He is the one that nursed me back to health," the prince said, trying his best to look confident; all the while feeling Merlin tense at his father's presence, and he had a pretty good idea why.

"This?" Uther let out a chuckle "This .. person saved your life you say..?" It seemed he had a hard time even considering the figure a "person", seeing how Merlin looked with his long, messy flocks of hair, dirt on his skin and ragged, torn clothes.

"Yes, father. He saved me. Had it not been for his courage and care, I would've just bled out like the rest of my knights."

"How do you know he didn't attack the patrol himself?" Uther stepped closer, eyeing the warlock, and the prince had to get a better grip of him as Merlin tensed even more.

Really father? Arthur sighed. "There were bandits that attacked us, father. I saw them."

"And how exactly did he save you if your wound was so severe you couldn't come back to Camelot?" he asked, and Arthur knew where this was going. His father made a mistake, but he just didn't like anything and anyone sticking out of line.

"He used herbs. He has great knowledge about healing plants. I have seen it with my own eyes," the prince said with much conviction. It was all true; he just left out the small details that consisted of enchanting the tinctures before administering them.

"And what do you intend to do with him once Gaius looks at him?" the king asked, now becoming a little amused by his son's claims.

"I want him to stay in the castle," Arthur spat out, then with a sudden idea he added, "I'll take him as my manservant."

"Your.. your manservant?" Uther laughed with his mouth open wide, and Merlin flinched at the sound, while the prince was getting irked about being delayed. He gave Merlin's wrist a gentle squeeze, just to signal for him to calm down. "Arthur be reasonable, he's a.. savage," Uther added, calming his laughter.

"A savage?" Arthur gasped, peering at the dirty warlock. "Perhaps. But he saved my life, father. It is the least I can do to repay him, to give him the honor to be my servant."

Uther let out a sigh, regaining his composure and eyeing his son, then the manservant-candidate at his side.

"Arthur, I understand you want to show your gratitude, and as future king, it is good to know when you need to be generous towards those that help you, but surely you can't want this.. person to be your servant. Reward him in some other way, then let him be on his way back to his home," the older man explained, with a slight smile still lingering on the corner of his lips.

"No." His son just shook his head, like a stubborn child not wanting to give up a favorite toy, despite his father's coaxing.

"Arthur.." The king's tone hardened, and Merlin had a feeling it wasn't a good idea to irk the man.

"He lives in a cave, father. In cold and misery, yet he still found it in him to care for me. It is the least I can do to repay him, and I will do it." Arthur lifted his chin to prove his determination. "I want him to be my manservant."

Uther sighed stepping closer, dislike clear on his face, and looked over Merlin.

"What is your name, boy?"

"His name is Merlin," Arthur interjected.

Uther looked at his son questioningly.

"He can't talk," the prince explained.

"Then how do you know his name?"

"I ..don't." The prince realized the truth was slipping. "I'll just call him Merlin."

"Merlin.. what a peculiar name. Why don't you just call him George or something? Something more common."

"He.. doesn't look like a 'George', he looks more like a 'Merlin'," the blonde explained and took another grip at Merlin's wrist as the young warlock just kept trying to pull away from the king's scrutiny.

Uther blinked. He came to the conclusion that whatever happened in the few days his son had been missing had affected him in a rather odd way, even if he seemed to be fine up until now; if not a little more determined in training then before. Nonetheless, the king made a mental note to bring this up with Gaius the next time he saw the physician.

"Alright," he said, and Arthur seemed more relieved in an instant.

"Come now, a woman was caught and is suspected of using sorcery, I'm heading to interrogate her in the dungeon and pass judgment. Join me," the king said, motioning for a guard, to step closer. "The guard will take your.. servant to Gaius."

"No. I'll take him." The prince turned in a way to keep his servant at a distance from the approaching man. Uther didn't know what to make of Arthur's sudden possessiveness, reminding him very much of a six year old boy instead of a crown prince, but seeing as he didn't have time for this, Uther just raised his hands in frustration and defeat, motioning he'd had enough of the situation and walked off towards the dungeons. "Fine."

.

'Interrogate and pass judgment.' Does that mean the woman will be killed too..? Just like that man the other day? The images of the execution quickly flooded Merlin's mind, and he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach. He covered his mouth to fight the feeling, but couldn't stop his eyes getting teary at the thought.

Arthur was leading him through the hall, and the young man had no idea where he was taking him. Any place seemed better then to be near the king, but he couldn't figure how he would be able to serve and protect the young man when he felt this much lost against the task.

The prince glanced at him from the side, noting that Merlin was obviously very upset about the execution. He might not be able to talk, but he was no fool; and Arthur too knew what fate awaited the poor woman. His father was going to sentence her to death, no matter the outcome of the interrogation. But above all he started to realize just what a great risk it all was for Merlin to be there.

"Gaius!" he called out, once he was stepping into the physician's chambers.

"Sire?" The old man stepped down from the ladder and put the few scrolls he had in hand aside on the table, eyeing the blonde and the shivering form he was guiding in.

"Gaius, this is Merlin. I'd like you to examine him and make sure he is well," the prince explained, letting the young warlock go and having him sit on a bench. "He will be staying in Camelot from now on."

"I understand," the old man said, a little surprised, and stepped closer to them. Merlin, who had been distracted by the various plants on display, along with potions, books and scrolls for all to see, now noticed the approaching figure and tried to back away.

"It's alright, Merlin." He found Arthur's hand in a firm grip on his shoulder, keeping him from getting off his seat. "Gaius is a good friend. I trust him. You can trust him too." The prince nodded and the elderly man came close to them. "He.. doesn't talk, and.." the blonde took a deep breath. He figured the man would find out sooner or later, as for some odd reason things like that didn't go unnoticed by him. Still, he kept his voice low. "Another thing, Gaius.." The old man looked up at him with interest. "He has magic. My father must not find out."

Merlin's eyes widened at Arthur, but the old physician nodded knowingly. He understood, oh he understood well, and Merlin thought that if Arthur was alright with the old man knowing, then he should be too. There was something in the physician that made the warlock feel calm around him, so he decided to just try and give into the feeling. After all, Arthur was there too.

"Well, Sire," Gaius spoke after some time of examining the warlock. "He seems to be alright. Just a couple of bruises here and there and a bit undernourished; I suspect his life conditions are at fault at that, and obviously a little shaken up from recent events. But other than that, he is quite well." The physician concluded and looked at the prince with an unspoken 'What now?' lingering.

Arthur stood there the whole time; answering Gaius as best as he could, when the elderly man asked various questions concerning Merlin. He was still standing with arms crossed, looking at the form of the young man in front of him. He imagined the warlock to be lanky, surely a life in a cave wasn't exactly a condition to get fattened up in, but still.. the man's ribs were showing, for God's sake! He never would've guessed he was that skinny.

"May I suggest, Sire. A bath. Before all else." Gaius spoke, noticing the prince was lost in thought.

"Of course. I'll get the servants to ready a bath, and.. I'll fetch him some clothes." Arthur snapped out of it and headed towards the door. Merlin stood quickly on seeing the prince leave.

"Stay here, Merlin. You're safe with Gaius." Arthur poked his head back, then closed the door behind him.

The warlock warily looked at the old man, and Gaius tried his best to smile. The young man looked frightened and positively worn out from the ordeal, and Gaius wondered where to start.

"I know you probably don't trust me," he said slowly, and noticed Merlin swallowed and glanced at the floor guiltily. "And I'm quite certain, from what Arthur told me, that the city must seem very busy and unfriendly compared to your previous home." The boy gave a small nod. "You should be careful, but you should never think that you are alone," Gaius said and stepped a little closer, smiling inwardly that Merlin didn't flinch away this time.

~.*.~