Merlin's first thought was that his head hurt.
He felt fairly justified in this being his first thought, as he was disoriented and, well, his head bloody hurt.
After this thought though, his brain seemed to catch up to the more pressing matters at hand.
He sat up, observing that he was in a bleak, dark cell, which was completely empty save him. He noted this with relief, as he remembered that sudden burst of magic that he could only hope had gotten Arthur and the others to safety.
He grimaced. Of course, explaining how he had transported his friends was something he would have to worry about later.
"The prisoner's awake."
He glanced up to the small grille in the door and saw two beady eyes staring through at him. They swiftly disappeared and he heard the sounds of footsteps hurrying down the corridor.
Moments later the returned, this time accompanied by lighter footsteps - Merlin felt he had a pretty good idea as to whom they belonged.
The door swung open, and Merlin looked up from his rather undignified position to recognise the entrants.
"Merlin," Morgana said. "This is a surprise."
Merlin smiled somewhat wryly. "Actually," he said. "It really isn't."
No one had said anything for about five minutes. Gwaine was beginning to become slightly worried that Lancelot wouldn't actually come up with an excuse for this one.
"Well," said the Prince, still looking expectantly at a completely gob smacked Lancelot. "I'm waiting."
"So are we all," muttered Gwaine. And then, louder, "Well, what Lancelot obviously meant was… was…" Damn, coming up with an excuse for this one was harder than anticipated.
Arthur turned his glare on Gwaine, his confused eyes flicking between the two as he said, "You cannot seriously be telling me that… that… that Merlin has…"
"Well, sire," said Gwaine jovially. "It looks like you're not quite as stupid as he says you are."
"Wait," said Lancelot. "Do youknow?"
Gwaine paused. "Knowledge," he said. "Is a tricky thing. I might know something. I might have guessed something. I might have thought that everyone in the castle was completely oblivious and thick. I might have done all these things. But if I had," here he fixed Lancelot with somewhat of a glare. "I would not have said anything about aforementioned possible knowledge."
Lancelot looked thoroughly confused. And then guilty.
"Wait," said Arthur. "What?"
Right, thought Gwaine. When all else failed, go for confusion. "What, what?"
"What?"
"Exactly."
"Look, I don't know what's going on here. But I do know exactly what I do care about. Which is this: number 1: How on earth we ended up here. Number 2: What Merlin has to do with it. And number 3: Where on earth is my idiot of a servant and what did you mean about him getting killed?" Arthur's voice rose until it was a shout and, looking into blue eyes which seemed simultaneously to be icy cool and on fire with anger, Gwaine thought that it would take a much stronger man than himself to not be a little afraid of the Future King.
Gwaine could therefore only imagine how Lancelot must be feeling as the Prince's fury was turned on him.
Lancelot sighed. "Well," he said slowly. "It's like this…"
"Actually," continued Merlin. "It's kind of predictable if you think about it. I mean the whole kidnapping thing that is. After all," he smiled sweetly. "You have done it before."
Merlin felt a full stinging slap across his face without Morgana moving from her position.
"Well," he put a hand up to his cheek. "You have advanced."
"I meant," said Morgana through gritted teeth. "That it is a surprise to see only you here."
"Oh," Merlin smiled. "Did the others get away then? Thanks for letting me know."
Merlin thought vaguely that antagonising Morgana was probably not the smartest thing to be doing in this situation.
At the present moment, he thought that he didn't much care.
Morgana's face twisted into a sneer. "Yes, Merlin. They did get away. Or should I say: they seemed to vanish into thin air. Any idea how that may have happened?"
Ah.
"That-" Merlin swallowed. "That sounds like it could be magic."
Merlin honestly didn't know why he talked sometimes.
"Exactly," came a new voice, and Merlin looked up to see Morgause stepping through the door of his cell. His heart sank. "And that is most curious, isn't it, Merlin?"
"Oh," said Merlin. "You're fine then? I was worried that after being thrown into a wall you might be-"
"Dead?" Morgause threw her head back and laughed.
"Well," muttered Merlin. "I was hoping for at least incapacitated."
"Well you see Merlin," Morgause continued without giving any indication that she'd heard him. "It all comes down to this: we had Arthur and his Knights captured and about to be subdued and then… they disappear. And you're the only one left. Do you know what that reminds me of?"
Merlin shook his head mutely. Morgause's voice had become deceptively and dangerously soft as she leant down so her face was no more than a few inches from Merlin's.
"You somehow foiling all our plans over the years. You emptying the cup of life. You escaping from magically imbued chains." She paused, straightened, tilted her head, "Somehow, Merlin. It is always you."
"Sister you cannot possibly be suggesting-"
"I am not suggesting anything, sister. I am merely asking Merlin to offer us some enlightenment on the subject. So: why does a servant boy continually risk everything for Camelot?"
"I believe in a fair-"
"Oh, don't tell me this is based on principle!" Morgause exclaimed, frustrated. "There is something else," she said, her voice dropping again. "But what?" She began to pace the cell - which was no mean feat given the width of the place - "You're not in this for glory or recognition - if you were, I am sure you have been severely disappointed - so what?"
Merlin shook his head. "You would never understand."
"And then," Morgause continued as though he hadn't spoken. "There is the question of how? How is it that you come out of this unscathed every single time."
"It is a mystery," Merlin agreed. "Would you like to speed up the process and just let me go?"
"Oh no," Morgause said. "Not this time. You are not getting away now." She brought a finger up to her chin and tapped it against her face thoughtfully. She muttered an incantation which Merlin didn't recognise but he didn't have much time to muse on this; the words had barely left her lips before he was abruptly doubled over in pain.
It felt like he was being torn from the inside out, like his very soul was trying to break free. The fire spread from the centre of his body outwards until he was on fire and, oh God, why wouldn't it stop? How could he still be alive? Just kill him now, please, please…
And then, abruptly as it started, it stopped.
As did the screaming, which, Merlin realised belatedly, had been coming from him.
"Sister?" Morgana sounded troubled, Merlin registered dimly. And as he looked up, she was staring at him with an unfathomable expression, her face paler than he had ever seen it.
He became aware of a sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead as he craned his neck to see Morgause's face.
"Interesting," she said. "Interesting."
"Sister?" Morgana inquired again, and Merlin wondered if she actually knew Morgause's name.
"I just turned all potential magic that he possesses on to himself. Most people have a latent ability, but none as strong as that."
OK, Merlin wasn't being arrogant (he left that to Arthur) but, as painful as that had been (and it had been indescribably painful) there was no way that that had been all his magic.
Interesting, indeed.
It wasn't until he registered Morgana's shocked gasp that he realised what had just been revealed. He looked back down and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, his teeth gritted.
"Yes," Morgause said, almost smugly. "It seems as though Merlin has been keeping quite a secret. It doesn't explain why I couldn't detect it of course - he seems to be almost as powerful as me."
Almost. Merlin snorted.
He was ignored.
"Merlin?"
It was the tone, rather than the voice that had his head shooting up. It would have been unfathomable to most; Morgana's tone was commanding, imperious… but it was also familiar. It reminded him of all those times before… before everything changed. When Morgana would shoot out orders to all and sundry. He wondered if he was the only one who could detect the vulnerability behind them.
He hadn't heard Morgana like that for a long time. And he did now.
His eyes met hers and he almost could bear to look into those eyes, accusatory they may be, but - as with the colours within them - there was something lurking under the surface.
Something like sadness.
Arthur couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it.
"You're telling me," he said slowly. "That Merlin has magic."
"Hallelujah!" Gwaine threw his hands up in the air. "He's finally got it."
"No. I do not 'have it'. It's impossible."
"Not impossible," Lancelot said quietly, his head still bowed. "Just a little improbable."
"Certainly, sire. You must have noticed that he is a very secretive person."
Three men all turned to look at Percival with equally shocked expressions upon their faces; they were fairly justified – it was the longest sentence they had ever heard him speak. Arthur shook his head; this day was getting stranger and stranger by the second.
"See," Gwaine said. "Even Percival has noticed. No offence, mate." He said as an aside. The larger Knight waved his hand dismissively.
"But I don't understand-"
"Sire, with all due respect, there will be time to explain later once we have ascertained whether he is still alive." Lancelot said through gritted teeth.
Arthur shook his head and whilst he did it merely to clear his thoughts, from the sharp intake of breath from Gwaine, he surmised that there could have been an alternate meaning construed by the Knight. He sighed. "You're right, of course. I-" he stopped. He didn't know what to say; he couldn't quite accept the idea that his idiotic servant had magic. But he couldn't ignore the fact that the same servant was currently captured and in grave danger.
"Right." Arthur said. "Let's get back to the castle. We can formulate a plan to rescue Merlin there."
A sigh of relief went round the Knights and Arthur wondered if any of them had actually thought he would give up on Merlin. It didn't matter, he thought. Merlin was in danger. He would deal with that first.
He could have a mental breakdown afterwards.
Lovely.
Well, I bet you thought I'd given up on this story, huh? *insert awkward laugh here* Anyway, I'm sorry for the wait. I had a lack of inspiration to write it combined with computer issues. But, I've sorted computer issues and, with Merlin looming ever closer I am somehow inspired! Please review if there's anyone still reading this story.