Finally! I think I was channeling my inner Gwen with this chapter. I hadn't planned for it to be this long... it just wrote itself that way. If the train of thought seems jumpy, it's just my ADHD leaking into my writing again. That and the *one* cup of coffee I had at work. Which kept me awake. And allowed this update.

On a somewhat unrelated side note: You know how coding software can check for incomplete parentheses? I wish word processing could do that with quotes. I keep missing those little buggers.

Thanks for keeping up with this story :) Let me know what you think!

He couldn't stop himself from touching everything again, just to make sure it was real. It felt too much like a dream and it made him scared all over again. What if he was just asleep and when he woke he would find himself back in his cell? Or maybe he was sick again and the fever was making him dream all of this? It would break his heart if this all turned out to be a dream. It would be too much for him.

But no, the sheets and pillows were real, softer than he would have imagined. If he moved too quickly, he hurt and the pain was real. He let his fingertips trace the small chess knight that Arthur gave him. It was real too – more real than anything he had ever imagined in any escape fantasy. Gaius had been real. Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen were real. This had to be real.

Besides, in all of his dreams, his mother had escaped with him and stayed with him. Now, she was gone, gone away to lead them away even though they still found him. He hoped she was still alive but... He knew what Arthur thought – that she was dead – and in his dreams he remembered how much blood came out of her leg. They're following my trail. A trail of blood. He shuddered. They had followed his trail too. He remembered how close they had been, the pain of the bolt hitting him. Use your magic if you have to. He did. His magic had hurt too, burned inside him and burned under the collar.

Across the room, Arthur tapped his quill against the ink well and the sound cut through Merlin's memory. He looked at Arthur in the soft grey light from the window. He looked much more real now than when he found Merlin. He can still remember it, through the haze and the pain. Arthur had just appeared in the forest in front of him saying he wanted to help. His eyes had blurred through the night and it made Arthur look more menacing and slightly unreal. He had spent the night imagining Master's men popping out of the trees and he was just so tired. He could see metal glinting near Arthur's belt and he was scared that Arthur worked for Master. But Arthur had put away his weapons and sat with him until he was ready to trust him. This whole time, all Arthur asked was that Merlin trust him. He took care of him and never brought up repayment. He didn't seem interested in using Merlin. He had only mentioned his magic once – to tell him not to use it. It was that more than anything that Merlin clung to. Master had talked about using his magic from the beginning yet Arthur was the opposite. Arthur was hiding him in Camelot even though magic wasn't allowed here. Arthur trusted Merlin too.

Maybe he really was safe now.

If only that voice would stop calling him. It was deep and ancient; that voice carried more power than Merlin had ever felt. It compelled him to answer but he clamped down on the urge desperately. What if the voice belonged to Master or one of his men? He didn't dare answer, but every day he heard the call. He didn't trust it. Emrys it called. That wasn't his name. He never wanted anyone to call him that name again. Merlin. His name was Merlin!

Emrys.

There was a knock on the door and he froze with fear before he could help it.

"Enter." Arthur looked up to see who came in. The same curtains that hid Merlin from view also prevented him from seeing who entered. Arthur kept them that way. Just in case, Arthur had explained, anyone unexpected enters. No one will hurt you, but it's for the best that few people know you are here. He remained tense until he heard Gwen's voice and saw that Arthur was relaxed too.

She chatted with Arthur as she set out his meal. Merlin watched her carefully. He always looked at the servants when they came in. They were so different to Master's servants! They looked healthy, happy even, and not once has he seen any chains or cuffs. But Gwen was different. She was the Morgana's servant and when they were alone together they acted like friends. Morgana was different too. If Morgana had her own servant, she must be noble-born too, but like Arthur, she was kind to Merlin. They were both kind to the servants, commanding but not intimidating. Arthur was treated with even more deference but he waved it aside without a thought.

It was confusing to say the least. He wondered again just what Arthur's status really was. Servants always addressed him as sire, but Merlin hasn't seen him wear a crown. He couldn't be a king, he was too young! And Merlin was pretty sure that kings did not go around rescuing slaves in the forest. Kings were busy and they only interacted with nobles. Master had been like that. Arthur was different. He trained with knights so it must be that he was a knight. Maybe… maybe in Camelot, knights were also addressed as sire?

"Merlin, are you hungry?"

Lost in his thoughts, Merlin realized Gwen had left. Arthur came to stand next to the bed and looked at Merlin carefully. Yes, he was hungry. His hunger was different too. It didn't ache like it had before… before Arthur. He nodded hesitantly, still slightly awed that he could answer truthfully and not be punished for it.

Arthur watched him carefully. "Do you want to try sitting at the table today? You've been stuck in bed for a long time."

Yes! Merlin didn't want (and didn't know how) to say, but he was feeling sore. It didn't make sense that he would be sore, he didn't even move most of the day! It was worst on his back so he jumped at the chance to sit. He could sit on his own now, without being propped up like a doll. He was getting stronger, just like Arthur said, and he wanted to prove it to him. He nodded excitedly.

"Good! We really should get you moving soon. Your feet are almost completely healed now." Arthur reached to lift him. Merlin fought the urge to move away. It was confusing; he felt safe with Arthur, especially when Arthur carried him. He liked when Arthur hugged him and rubbed his back. It reminded him of his mum. He wished Arthur would always hold him like that.

But the same strength that protected him scared him too. Every time Arthur reached for him, for a moment, Merlin remembered other less friendly arms reaching for him. He wondered if that would ever go away.

Arthur carefully settled Merlin on his hip and walked to the table. Merlin cautiously rested his head on Arthur's shoulder, watching Arthur closely. Arthur only looked surprised and smiled at Merlin. Merlin looked down and saw that the chair next to Arthur was padded with cushions. For a moment, he wanted to ask if he could sit with Arthur… but, no, that was asking too much. He was grateful for everything he already had. If he asked for more, he might lose everything. He let Arthur settle him in the chair and tried to hide his shivering. Arthur wasn't fooled. He wrapped a blanket around Merlin saying, "It's chilly, isn't it?"

Dinner was fun. Arthur always talked to Merlin now. He told Merlin about training and about each of the knights. He didn't know most of the people Arthur mentioned but he liked to hear Arthur's voice. Arthur talked to him like he was grown up and it made Merlin feel normal. He listened carefully and tried to remember as much as he could. Later, when Arthur worked and became quiet, he would remember Arthur's words and imagine he was in the same places, doing the same things, and meeting the same people. He did the same with the stories Morgana and Gwen told him. It made time pass smoothly.

On a day when Arthur's training was cancelled, he had sat with Merlin to keep him awake. Merlin had been grateful for his presence. Just like he feared, when Morgana and Gwen saw him awake they had started asking questions. It wasn't that Merlin didn't want to answer them; the more they asked, the harder it was for him to fight the memories until he felt like he was stuck in them. Arthur had stopped the girls and calmly talked Merlin back to the present. Arthur always knew how to bring Merlin back. He never touched him until he was ready and he never scolded him. He didn't let the girls dwell on the situation, instead Arthur directed the conversation as if nothing happened and Merlin could have died of relief. Morgana and Gwen had followed his lead, and since then, they told him stories as they sewed.

Today, as Merlin carefully spooned his soup, Arthur talked about training.

"Bedivere is very strong but he thinks that he can relax his technique because of it. That makes him a weak opponent." Merlin looked up at Arthur curiously.

"You see, Merlin, there is much more to fighting than strength. He could easily use his strength to overwhelm a weak opponent like a soldier or lesser knight. Yet I can beat him easily despite his superior experience and despite being weaker than him."

How?

"How?" Merlin startled. Had Arthur heard him? Arthur continued without hesitating. "I've worked hard at reading the moves of my opponents, and more importantly, anticipating them. I learn their strengths and their weaknesses as we fight. With Bedivere, he expects to either win with the first blow or shock his opponent long enough that he can press the attack until he defeats them. Leon has taught me to flow through each movement and he always stressed correct form so it is becoming like muscle memory. I act quickly, block Bedivere and immediately mount my own attack. This puts him off balance. I can take advantage of his weak defense to pick away at him. Bedivere believes that taking a few hits is a worthy sacrifice if he can use that time to mount an attack and forcibly retake the advantage. Leon taught me that that is never an option in a real fight and so it shouldn't be with training swords." He imitated Leon's voice, "Arthur, you have to train as you will fight. Do not be sloppy like Bedivere. If you truly want to be the strongest, you have to know that you can rely on your mind to plan and on your body to act. In battle, the victory goes to the fighter that can endure and keep fighting until the end. This can only be learned by training correctly." He continued talking, but Merlin dwelled on that for a while more.

Could it really be possible for someone to win simply by enduring and continuing to fight back, even if they are weaker than the other? Does this philosophy work for other circumstances?

"Merlin?"

Uh-oh. Arthur had noticed Merlin not paying attention. He didn't look angry though. He looked questioningly at Merlin. Glancing at the door quickly, Merlin let the memory of what Arthur had just said flow to Arthur. The victory goes to the fighter that can endure and keep fighting until the end. Arthur remained quiet for a while before the wrinkle in his forehead disappeared. He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"It's a bit more complicated than that in a real battle." He waited until Merlin met his eyes. "Are you wondering if this works outside of a battle?" Merlin nodded. "It's mostly the same, Merlin. The important thing is to survive and never give up. It might seem hopeless but you cannot give up hope. It may even seem cowardly to bide your time, but use the time wisely. Learn and get stronger. Watch for your opportunity. It will come. Then you can win. The people that helped you escape did the same. They watched and waited until they could act. Now you are here, free and getting stronger every day."

Merlin felt his eyes tearing up and his throat closing up. There had been times when he wondered why his mum and his guards had waited so long to help him. Now he understood and he felt guilty. Arthur drew his attention again.

"You can honor their memories by continuing to heal and living the best life you can. They would not want you to live in constant sadness."

Be brave, Merlin.

I love you very much, Merlin, never forget that.

Stay strong.

Arthur was right. Merlin nodded resolutely. He would be brave and get stronger.

They finished eating just as Gwen arrived. Merlin watched curiously as she carried in two buckets of water. "Sire, I have some help coming up. It might be best if…" She looked at Merlin, smiled and waved at him. He smiled back.

"Right! Let's sit on the bed for a few minutes, Merlin." He carried Merlin back to the bed. He settled him back and then drew the curtains. Merlin took that to mean more people were coming. He burrowed under the covers.

He heard Arthur greet more servants. There was a creak and the sounds of the fire being stoked. Then something large was dragged a short ways. A lot of splashing followed and finally the room quietened. He heard Arthur talking to Gwen again before the door closed and he heard Arthur turning the lock. When he heard the curtains move, he peeked out.

Arthur smiled. "Were you scared?"

Merlin shook his head. Arthur chuckled and drew back the covers. He picked up Merlin and brought him out into the room again. A large wooden tub, filled with slightly steaming water, was set near changing screen. He tensed before he could help it and hid his face in Arthur's shoulder. Arthur rubbed his back.

"That big tub is for me. Gwen brought a little one for you." Merlin peeked and saw the much smaller tub also filled with water. He didn't want it. He shook his head and hid his face again. He didn't want to be completely undressed and he didn't want Arthur to see him. His body was shameful. He had all the scars to prove how bad he was. Arthur would see and then he would know. Then he wouldn't help Merlin anymore.

"Merlin, what's wrong? You were getting better when I changed your bandages."

That was different. Then, Arthur could think of Merlin's injuries as separate. If he saw them all at once, he would know. On a deeper level that Merlin was desperately trying to ignore, he remembered what it had been like the last time someone other than his mum had bathed him. That was when Master had changed. What if Arthur was like that too? What if Arthur meant to drown him?

He remembered the kitten he had tried to keep. His guards, not the ones that were his friends, had found it. They had taken them to Master.

"What did you plan to do with it, Emrys?"

He fell for the trick. He tried to answer and fell to his knees as the collar punished him. He looked up at Master, trying to plead with his eyes.

It only made him angrier. He strode over to Merlin and hit him. He fell sideways, jostling his bruises, and started to cry.

"I tried to be nice to you. If you had obeyed me from the beginning, I would have given you what you wanted. It's too late for that now. You chose to be difficult and even now you still cannot learn your place. You defy me at every turn, Emrys! Trying to speak, looking me in the eyes, keeping secrets! This is the end of my patience. Do you know what it means to die, Emrys?"

Merlin was so scared. Dying meant you never woke up. He didn't want to die!

Mordred appeared with a bucket. He glared at Merlin as he deposited the bucket in front of Master and left again.

"I will show you now, with this kitten. If you displease me further, Emrys, this is what I will do to your mother."

Master snapped his fingers. One guard held Merlin and the other dunked the kitten in the bucket. He saw it scratching the guard's hand and biting as it struggled. He tried to go to it but the guard shook him and held him back. He tried to plead with Master and the collar burned and choked him. It was over quickly. The guard left the kitten in the bucket. When he was released, Merlin crawled over and pulled it out. He held it close but it didn't move.

Master came to stand over him. "Your mother will suffer greatly before she dies. Think carefully, Emrys, is that what you want? Obey me or she dies."

He was sobbing now and shaking. Please, he thought. Please don't.

Arthur's hand stopped rubbing. Merlin felt his panic rising. Arthur would be mad now. He wouldn't be so nice anymore. Everything was ruined.

He felt Arthur's voice more than he heard it as he clung tighter. "Merlin, you are safe now. I won't hurt you. I won't look if you don't want me to. This is necessary. If we don't keep you clean, you could get an infection and die. Please, Merlin, look at me."

Arthur pulled Merlin's chin up. "Do you remember when I found you?"

Of course! He would never forget that day. He nodded. "Do you remember when I washed you? In the river?"

He stopped breathing. No, no, no. Arthur had seen? It came to him now, the memory seemed distant. Arthur had seen! Arthur was going to drown him? He… he had even showed him about the kitten. Arthur hadn't drowned him. He hadn't done anything more than clean Merlin.

"Breathe, Merlin!" Arthur was shaking him. He gasped in air desperately. "Do you remember, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded. There was no point in fighting it now. Arthur already knew. Then why was Arthur still so nice? He searched Arthur's eyes.

"It will be the same, Merlin. I won't hurt you. I won't let you drown. I just want to help you. Trust me? Like you did at the river?"

He trusted Arthur. He nodded.

Merlin kept his head down while Arthur washed him. He was being gentle but Merlin still didn't understand why. He almost looked up when Arthur stopped washing him with a sigh.

"Merlin, are you ashamed? Is that why you won't look up?"

He couldn't answer. He held his breath to stop the tears that rose.

"You have nothing to be ashamed about, Merlin."

How could he believe that? He was marked. Permanently. His disobedience and weakness was written all over his body. He resisted Arthur's hand on his chin. He couldn't ever look Arthur in the eyes again.

Suddenly, Arthur crouched down and placed his forehead on Merlin's. "Please look at me."

Merlin closed his eyes as a sob escaped. Arthur didn't move. "Merlin. You have nothing to be ashamed about. Do you know why? None of what happened is your fault. It's not your fault, Merlin. Do you hear me? It's not your fault."

It was his fault. He defied Master, even fought him. That's why Master hurt him. That's why Master… That was…

"It's not your fault. When I look at your scars and injuries, when I think about what you have suffered, Merlin, when I look at you, do you know what I see?"

Merlin tried to turn away. He didn't want to hear this from Arthur. Arthur held his face gently but firmly.

"I see a little boy that has survived torture and abuse of the worst kind. You are a survivor."

His eyes snapped open and met Arthur's eyes. What was he saying?

"I see a little boy with a spirit so strong, that even after someone tried to break him, he finds a way to trust again. I see someone who has lost everything but continues to try to live. You are strong, Merlin."

He was strong?

"It's not your fault, Merlin. You have nothing to be ashamed of. The only person who should be ashamed is the person that did this to you."

Master? No, it couldn't be. He shook his head. He couldn't think like that. Master had only hurt him when Merlin gave him a reason. Except… That was how it worked, right? It couldn't be that… Arthur never hurt him. Mum… It was only Master. He remembered the kitten. He couldn't stop the sobs anymore. He reached for Arthur, reached for this person that had only ever helped him.

And Arthur held his hand tightly. "It's not your fault. Believe it, Merlin."

He did. Deep down, he always had. He trusted Arthur. He trusted him to be right. He nodded. Arthur wiped Merlin's face.

The water had cooled. Merlin shivered and Arthur squeezed him one more time before he reached for the washcloth. "We better finish this bath before you freeze!"

Arthur didn't let him dwell. He tickled Merlin gently until Merlin giggled and said a silly rhyme about his toes. Before he knew it, the bath was over. Arthur gently dried him before wrapping him in a warm blanket and settling him in front of the fire to warm up. "I'll let you warm up while I bathe quickly. That way they can clear the tubs before dark and you can get warm before we put you back in your nest!"

Merlin was amazed at how drained he felt. He started to drift off when he heard Arthur splash in the tub with a gasp. He risked a quick glance.

"Sorry, Merlin. The water's just cold."

Merlin realized that Arthur's water would have been warm if they had hurried Merlin's bath. But this was something he could fix! He let his magic rise within. He asked it to warm Arthur's bathwater and let it loose.

"Oh- Oooooooooh." Arthur sank into the water and smiled widely. "Merlin, you are the greatest. This may be the best bath I have ever had!"

Merlin smiled shyly back before turning away to give Arthur his privacy. He dozed off.

He was groggy when Arthur bandaged and dressed him. It was only when the tubs were taken away that he woke up a little- just in time to be settled into bed. It had been a long day for both of them and Merlin could tell that Arthur was tired as he snuffed the candles around the room. He watched by the light of the last candle as Arthur stretched. His bones popped and he groaned lightly as he settled on the cot next to Merlin. He roused a little. Arthur hadn't put him in the cot because it was uncomfortable yet he slept in it every night since Merlin came to stay with him. This was Arthur's bed but Arthur let him have it to himself because Merlin had been afraid of him. He wasn't afraid of Arthur anymore, not really. He looked at the bed around him. It was huge! They could both fit on the bed and there would still be more space. He tried to wave at Arthur but his eyes were already closed. He opened his mouth –

Suddenly his heart was racing. His throat felt tight and he had to touch his neck to make sure the collar was gone. He couldn't speak!

This felt important somehow. Arthur was uncomfortable because he made Merlin comfortable. That wasn't fair. He had to fix it, like the bathwater.

But his voice would not come. He was choking on air. Arthur's words echoed in his head. He had to be strong. He repeated it in his head. He took a deep breath and –

"Ah- Arthur." It was barely a whisper.

Arthur snapped upright on the cot. He looked around and then glanced at Merlin. He started to grin. "Merlin! I heard… with my ears… you – you said my name! Did you say my name?"

He nodded. Arthur looked so happy – because he spoke? Merlin smiled shyly. Then, remembering his purpose, he patted the bed next to him.

Arthur's grin became a small smile. "No, that's alright Merlin. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Merlin shook his head and frowned. He trusted Arthur, didn't he know that? He patted the bed again.

Arthur studied him carefully, his face serious. "Are you absolutely sure, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded. He sent Arthur a memory of how comforted he felt by Arthur's gestures. I trust you.

Arthur's face softened. "Let's try it then. But if you feel nervous, tell me. I won't be insulted, I promise."

He watched as Arthur settled under the covers next to him. Arthur looked very happy now and Merlin felt cozy inside his bundle of pillows and blankets. Arthur reached over and ruffled his hair. "Thank you, Merlin. Good night."

He fell asleep as Arthur rubbed his back. Not even the voice disturbed his rest that night.