I was bad. Very very bad and wrote the next chapter already. That's good for you but not for me as I'm wasting time I don't have. The next update will take longer (I do mean that this time).

Thanks for all the reviews. Thanks now to 'emerald.97', 'Jenn' and 'Cliffhanger hater' (I'm sorry!) . I'll try not to be that cruel to my readers again for a while and I have updated really quickly for you all. Hope this chapter makes up it and doesn't disappoint. More creepiness and some action. (Assume all the conversation between Merlin and the girl is telepathic seeing as Merlin is unable to talk.)

Enjoy!

Chapter 16

The girl's cold touch on his face caused Merlin to stir in his bonds and he heard a young female voice in his mind. As he regained consciousness, he began to notice his entire body was hurting and the more he noticed the more painful it became. The air around him also felt unnaturally heavy. The last memory he had was of drowning and sinking helplessly under, but he was sure the afterlife should not feel like this, so somehow he must have been saved.

Merlin opened his eyes. The world around him was blurred and distorted but he did not need to see well to comprehend the trouble he was in. The air wasn't heavy; he was still underwater and he was not alone. Around him were the bodies of the drowned, in various stages of decay up to and including bare skeletons, with weed threading its way through their bones. They appeared to have been trapped in a similar situation to him, except for the fact they were long dead. Merlin was fully aware the same fate awaited him unless he could find a way out of this.

Merlin didn't know how he was even still alive now. He should be dead. There was no dry air in his watery prison so how was he breathing? It was impossible.

Oh.

A shiver ran down Merlin's spine, which had nothing to do with the temperature. He came to the dreadful realisation that he hadn't drawn a single breath since waking. Not one. He had not even felt the need. But he would know if he were dead, surely?

Merlin shot the ghost-like figure a look of detestation. She was now floating beside him running a set of decayed-looking fingers through his short hair. There was a faraway expression in her pale eyes.

"What have you done to me?" Merlin jabbed the thought forcefully back at her. She had spoken to him in his mind so he assumed she could hear him too. Her face lit up. Apparently, she was unused to people who talked back.

"Will you be my friend?" she asked again.

"Friendship is rarely earned by trapping someone at the bottom of a swamp," Merlin countered, struggling against the weeds that bound him. The girl scowled. He winced as the she tugged roughly at his hair and his head was jerked backwards.

"You shouldn't be naughty. Naughty boys are punished." She released him abruptly and blinked purposefully.

Merlin looked down at the weed. It had coiled around him, piercing his body in several places by growing through his clothing and into his flesh. But now several tendrils of the plant were recoiling and pain ripped through him as the twisting stems, which had branched out under his skin, were forced out of him through their narrow, original points of entry. His eyes widened in fear as he became increasingly light-headed and the previously suppressed urge to inhale began to come over him. He knew he couldn't but he needed air. He really needed air.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore," the girl said bitterly.

If Gaius had been here, he could have produced a heavy volume on freshwater plant life and gone on at length about the remarkable and terrible properties of this particular species. If he'd had access to greater knowledge, he could have described in detail the mechanisms by which the weed facilitated the exchange of vital gases between itself and its host to keep its victim fresh and alive whilst it very gradually fed. All Merlin knew was that somehow these vile weeds were responsible for his present survival in this environment. How ironic that his bonds had also been his lifeline.

Now he was dying. Again. This time however, he found himself able to clutch onto the magic that flowed through him and act. He couldn't reach the surface so there was but one choice, but it was going to hurt. He recoiled as the tips of the plant stabbed back into him and his golden eyes screwed up tightly, but straight away he could feel his strength beginning to return.

The girl's face changed from anger to shear delight.

"Oooh, you're a magician," she said gleefully, despite the clear suffering on Merlin's features. "Maybe you can be my friend after all…. If you're nice to me."

Merlin looked up, glowering.

"Were they your friends?" He asked her, referring to the bodies. The girl smiled, sickly sweet.

"I invited them here. They didn't like me at first, but now they'll stay with me forever. Pretty lights at night. The night's little lights are all my friends. Flames dancing in the dark. They bring me more friends," she said in her singsong voice.

Merlin had heard stories of 'corpse candles' or 'will o the wisps' that lured travellers into marshes. Were they here, at night? Did the souls of the dead shine enchantingly in the darkness to bring more 'friends' for this drowned child? It that how she herself had got here, a victim of their call?

Merlin looked at the girl and a small part of himself pitied her. A lonely child stuck in this dank and horrid place. But this bleak existence would darken even the lightest of souls and this was no innocent youngster; she had been here far longer than Merlin had even been alive. She may have the mind of a child, but she had learned to control the marsh itself and use it for her own purposes and she had no qualms about how many lives she took for one brief moment of companionship.

The white nightdress flowing serenely around her, the pale bare feet gliding softly across the mud without touching, she was bound in this image forever. But behind the straggly locks hanging damply in front of her pasty white skin and glassy eyes, there was blackness. Merlin was just another plaything for her. A novelty that was soon sure to wear off.

"What's your name?" The girl asked softly.

"Merlin."

"Show me some magic, Merlin. Pretty magic. Pretty please."

"I can't say spells like this."

That was not completely true. He had been practicing working non-verbal magic. For now, this involved focussing on the incantations in his mind instead of saying them aloud. After, all if he could move objects just by thinking, why shouldn't he be able to develop that ability? Unfortunately, Merlin had not progressed beyond the ability to perform routine chores without talking. Naturally, Gaius did not approve of this method of practice and pointed out that even ordinary people can manage to do work without saying anything, on a daily basis, and they don't usually set the curtains accidentally on fire in the process. The ability to polish armour, scrub floors or dry Arthur's laundry in an instant was hardly useful for getting himself out of this.

"Make magic for me." the girl pouted.

"No." She scratched his face.

"Make lights for me NOW! Sorcerers make pretty lights. One way, you will make a light for me soon."

"No, I don't think I will."

"You're no fun, Merlin. Maybe your friend will want to be my friend instead."

"Arthur!" Merlin's head screamed in panic.

The girl's mouth curled up into a grin as she began humming. The effect was terrifying.

* * *

Far above them, the waters began to rise around Arthur's unconscious form.

The prince began to stir as the water bubbled against his cheek and gurgled in his ear. He blinked. Whoa, his head did hurt. Where was he? He seemed to be lying in a pool of water.

Rising water.

He did a double take and his eyes widened in shock. He scrambled crab-like backwards onto the relative safety of the causeway and stood up but the water was still creeping towards him. It was now lapping around his feet and from out of the deeper water, a series of thin black vine-like extensions burst forth and seized him roughly by the ankle, throwing him off balance.

Arthur lashed out with his sword and the severed tips loosened from his leg while the rest flailed in the air before splashing back into the water. But the water was still getting higher.

* * *

"Alright, I'll try. Just stop it, please." Merlin begged.

"Very well. You see, all you have to do is behave. It's not so bad is it?"

Merlin closed his eyes and knowing it was almost certainly a big mistake, he concentrated on conjuring a magical flame. Upon opening his eyes, he surprised himself as he saw a golden ball of fire flickering gently above the girl's head. She was looking up at it in awe. With newfound confidence from this success, he turned his attention to finding a way out of his dire predicament whilst the girl stood transfixed.

It did not look good. He didn't know any spells that would allow him to breathe underwater and he had not even attempted teleportation before, seeing as the miniature whirlwind that apparently resulted from such magic was hardly discrete. Technically speaking, however unlikely it may be, it was possible his situation could get worse. He could, for example, end up transporting himself midair over a cliff or to the bottom of an ocean even deeper than where he was currently residing. So that was out of the question. He could free himself from the weeds easily enough, but where would that leave him? There was no way he would be able to reach the surface if he severed the weeds that tethered him to life here. If only it wasn't so far.

Then Merlin had an idea. A crazy and improbable idea that would take an incredible amount of effort, but an idea nonetheless. If he could dry Arthur's shirts and trousers using magic, then why not a swamp. If he could not swim up to the surface, why not bring the surface down to him? Sure, the swamp was a little bigger than laundry, and he was in it, but the principle must surely be the same.

The girl did not notice as Merlin silently envisioned the spell. He felt his magic surge into action as it became focused on the task in hand. It was a while before Merlin began to notice a change, but the sunlight from above was gradually getting brighter. He hoped that it would be over soon, as it was taking all his strength to maintain this spell and keep the girl entertained so she would not hurt him or Arthur. He was also sure that the weeds were sapping something from him. Presumably, they were keeping him alive so they could do just that.

Looking above him, Merlin could now see the ripples on the water's surface descending rapidly towards him. Should he make a break for it? The trouble was he was already trying to keep two spells going at once. He was not sure he could manage a third in order to break the weeds. He would just have to wait.

"Nooo!" came a sudden shriek from the girl, as Merlin realised in horror that the light she was now staring at was not the glowing ball he had made for her, but rather the blurry orb of the sun. She knew what he was trying to do. He had been caught.

* * *

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as the water began receding around him. As he clutched at the back of his head, he tried to remember what was going on. Then it all came flooding back.

Merlin.

Merlin was drowning. How long had he been under? Arthur didn't know how long he had been unconscious but the sun had moved noticeably across the sky during that time. There was no sign anywhere and Arthur wasn't even certain where Merlin had vanished anymore. The swamp was huge. How could he possibly find him? The memory of blue eyes looking up at him out of the water was haunting.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out to him. Maybe he had managed to get out of this on his own, useless idiot though he was. Maybe he was around here somewhere. "MERLIN!" But there was nothing.

"NO!" he shouted, throwing his sword down with a clatter and circling restlessly. He kicked a stone into the water and clutched at his mud-tangled hair. Merlin was surely dead and it was all his fault. He had brought him here. He was the one who couldn't save him, because of a horse.

Even so, part of Arthur still expected Merlin to creep up behind him and ask him casually why he was staring at the water whilst trying to conceal a knowing smile – badly. He would have turned round in amazement as Merlin stood grinning widely at his bemused expression. This did not happen, however, nor was it going to. There was no illusion this time. This Merlin had really been Merlin, not another in disguise and the swamp was real; there were no figments here.

But hadn't the water been deeper than that to begin with? Why was the level sinking back so low? There were stones and dead branches lying in the mud that had not been visible before. Arthur picked up his sword again. He did not know what good it could do him, but he felt safer with its weight in his fist. This wasn't natural, hence it wasn't good. He had already lost Merlin. Whatever lay in store, he was not going to allow himself to be killed here so Camelot could be lost too.

Out of nowhere, more of the weed sprung forth. Arthur swiped at it. One. Two. Three. A flash of black reflected in his sword. He spun round. Four. The fifth latched onto his leg and sent him flying forward. Fighting back against its pull, he managed to draw his leg closer to himself and cut it just in time to roll away from the sixth. He picked himself up again, breathing heavily and whirled round to make sure there was no more.

Satisfied, but slightly dizzy – his head now felt a whole lot worse – he looked ahead at the swamp. It was now almost completely drained. Scattered across the vast mudflats were bodies, their limbs all snared by the weed, now limp. There were men, women, children, several horses and… Merlin.

He leapt down from the path and struggled towards him, the mud slowing down his swift progress. The remaining weed wriggled pathetically on the ground. Arthur stepped on it. He was just splashing through the last remaining puddles to get to Merlin when… whoosh. A pale hand shot out of the water, grasping. He jumped back, but the small fist evaporated from her fingers down her arm. Arthur stared. He saw a young girl's face staring menacingly from the puddle, before it too dried away.

Going over to Merlin's body, he crouched down, knees sinking beside him. Merlin's clothes were ripped and round lesions covered his skin. He lay surrounded by the same weed that had attacked him, but it was now lifeless – lifeless like Merlin, Arthur thought. But wait…was that a pulse he could feel in Merlin's neck? The stubborn–

"Come on you idiot, breathe! For once in your life follow a simple order."

Merlin gulped in a lungful of air, and another.

"Yes, sire!" he grunted. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the sunlight. It was pleasantly warm against his face. He took another long breath relishing every last particle of it.

"Ha!" Arthur laughed in relief. "You…. You…. Ha ha!" Arthur punched Merlin gently in the shoulder.

"Ow," he moaned.

"Sorry," Arthur frowned. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, Merlin." Merlin coughed.

"It wasn't exactly intentional," he said weakly. He inhaled again deeply. "Mmm, that smells good."

"Err, we're in the middle of a festering swamp, surrounded by corpses. The smell is revolting," replied Arthur beginning to wonder if Merlin had suffered brain damage. Merlin sniffed again and grimaced.

"Ew. Actually, you're right. It is."

Arthur sighed as he carefully helped his servant to his feet. Merlin was back.

I have no idea when I'll next be able to update. I'm about to start my final term of my final year at uni and I'm failing miserably at the moment. I hope you'll understand and can be patient. I will definitely be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, thanks so so much for all the lovely feedback especially as it's my first story. I really do appreciate it and I can't believe I'm nearly at 100 reviews. I love you guys!