Sorry, everyone, for taking so long. I hope none of you gave up on us. We swear we don't have writer's block... yet. We suffer from a serious case called 'life.'

So, a few weeks ago, Morgana (not Katie McGrath, but Morgana herself) charged into our room and demanded that we give her more scenes in our spoof. The little turkey trashed our room before explaining herself. And out of fear for our lives, we have taken up the policy of appeasement. Mentioning our room was not necessary, Fern... neither was lying. "Lies do not become us." (And, seriously, why did you have to mention our room!) As I said, we had to get past life before this chapter could be posted.

Anyway, please enjoy and review.

The Legend of the Seeker crew, in disguise, slipped through the physician's door. Inside, they were confronted by a labyrinth and Gaius' snores. They picked their way through the tables and sundry objects.

Thunk!

In panic, the group scrambled to escape.

"Wait," Cara hissed suddenly, "he's still asleep."

The rest of the group looked back to see the physician still snoring. They released sighs of relief and resumed sneaking through the room. They tip-toed up the steps once they saw for certain that Merlin wasn't in the main room. Richard opened the door at the top of the steps. There was the target. With an exchange of nods, they silently agreed on taking positions. Kahlan and Cara stationed themselves at the door. Zedd strode to the bedside while Richard followed, preparing the burlap sack.

Merlin stirred slightly, but didn't change position. He laid on his back with his arm slung over his eyes. The kidnappers stood with baited breath for a moment.

Finally, Zedd hovered his outstretched hands over Merlin. Zedd began muttering incantations. Just before Zedd finished, Merlin groaned. He slightly shifted the arm over his eyes and flung his other arm over his body. Suddenly, the cupboard burst open. What few belongings Merlin owned attacked the intruders. After regaining their composure, Richard, Kahlan, and Cara stared at Zedd for an answer.

"The magic is keeping him asleep now," Zedd whispered, indicating that now wasn't the time for questions and explanations.

Five minutes later...

A Camelot guard walked to one of the small fire pits to warm his hands. Just another boring, routine night. Maybe the warning bell would sound. That could make this dull evening somewhat interesting.

A group of four people strolled through the street. They helped each other carry a large burlap sack. Whatever was in it was oddly shaped. Something poked at one end that strangely reminded the guard of a face. At the other end was something that bizarrely resembled a foot.

The guard shook his head. These people were probably just lugging rocks. Why they would want to do that at this hour was beyond the guard. Eh, whatever worked for them. Pity there wasn't an attractive lady in the group. The guard would have stopped and asked the contents of the bag as an excuse to talk to her. Seeing as there was nothing remotely interesting going on...

The guard decided to play dice.

Disoriented, Merlin awoke. His head and chest throbbed mercilessly. His muscles shrieked a protest to the events of the past two days. Merlin could hear two shrill voices yowling at each other. He caught the words, "training" and "footprint." Merlin moaned. Whomever they were, couldn't they just stuff it? Between Merlin's injuries and exhaustion, what had happened had not quite sunk in. As the unpleasant voices became even more shrill, Merlin found the will, but not the means, to clap his hands over his ears. His hands were tied... behind his back. It was actually putting quite a strain on his shoulders. As he tried to wiggle free, Merlin realized something even more peculiar. His fingers had been individually wrapped and bound together. "Why are my fingers tied?" Merlin heard himself say. As the world came into focus, he registered that he was on the ground... in the dirt. The screaming stopped. The screeches were replaced by a volley of hushed voices.

"Is he supposed to be awake?" said an edged woman's voice. Merlin felt a tremor of fear course through him. He wasn't sure where he had heard that voice before. He was just certain it meant bad things.

"No," an older voice replied, "The spell should have lasted for hours yet."

Merlin groaned. That voice was also unpleasantly familiar. Who were they? Their identities dangled just at the edge of his mind. If only he could get a good look at them... With a start, Merlin realized that his eyes were clamped shut. They were swollen from the irrational weeping from the day before. Merlin cracked his eyes open and immediately crunched them shut again. It was too painful.

"Why are my fingers tied?" Merlin muttered thickly again.

"We know what you're trying to do. You can stop now," said an arrogantly exasperated third voice.

Merlin cringed. He wasn't sure why, but with every new voice Merlin was more certain that he was in danger. All of these voices were familiar, but he just couldn't place them. Merlin scrunched his eyes tighter.

"Who—what-do-you-want?" Merlin's words slurred together, "Why-are-my-fingers-tied-together?" Merlin persisted. His mind wouldn't let him focus on anything but this strange fact: his fingers were individually wrapped and tied.

"You are aware it's a precaution." Merlin's eyes flew open at the sound of that chastising and sickly sweet voice. The light stabbed his eyes. He began to blink erratically. "We can't risk you attacking us with your magic," Kahlan finished.

The words barely registered. Terror welled inside Merlin. With sudden clarity Merlin realized he had been kidnapped—while he was weak. At least one of his captors had the power to bend others to her will. Merlin began to hyperventilate.

"Why are we wasting our time playing nice with him!" Cara's voice rang out snidely. "I'm going to train him!"

Merlin heard her step toward him. He turned his head to face her. He struggled to keep his stinging eyes open. He had to escape. Cara drew her agiel. Merlin's mind reeled. He would wait until she was about to strike. She inched closer. Merlin tried to edge away. His rib sent a wave of pain through his body.

Suddenly, Zedd spoke, "Cara, no. We might be able to reason with him."

"How can you say that?" Cara snapped, "You've heard how he idolizes that prince!"

Merlin snorted and his eyes widened. He did not idolize Arthur! Arthur may be his friend, but Arthur was still a pompous dollophead.

"You saw that bruise on him. It looks as though his rib as broken," Richard said as though Merlin wasn't within earshot.

"He punted me!" Cara shouted.

Merlin racked his brain. He couldn't remember using magic so blatantly on any of them. And he was certain he couldn't punt her without magic.

Cara began shouting again, "If we untie his fingers, he'll try to use magic against us."

Merlin let out a snort of laughter that promptly turned into a grunt of pain. Did they really think that? He could use this to his advantage. Merlin focused on his pain to hide his amusement.

"Merlin," Kahlan, ignoring Cara's protest, said in her sickly sweet voice, "You can help end this. No one else has to be beaten the way you have."

Merlin pursed his lips. As much as he hated to admit it, the injuries were entirely his own fault. If Arthur and Gaius hadn't intervened, Merlin would have suffered an imminent death of starvation and/or exhaustion. A broken rib was a small price to pay for his life—especially considering that Merlin had made it all but impossible for anyone to help or save him. Merlin was grateful Arthur. He would have never thought he could be so grateful to someone for using brute force on him.

"I'm—I'm glad of my injuries!" Merlin declared assertively and with a slur. As he spoke, Merlin was certain his words came out wrong. His mind was too hazy to locate where the error was.

His captors stared at him coldly. Cara's eyes glinted with cold triumph. The other three gave him icy looks of shock.

"I deserved it," Merlin babbled incoherently. His captors' faces curled with disgust.

Richard turned to Kahlan and said, "You need to confess him." Kahlan gave him a slight nod. She stretched her arm.

"Wait! I want to train him!" Cara protested bloodthirstily.

"Cara!" Kahlan patronized, "That's inhumane. We are not committing such an act of unnecessary act of cruelty." That set off another argument.

Merlin squirmed, trying to loose his bonds. He didn't know what "training" was. They seemed to think it was worse than "confession." If confession was what Merlin thought it was, he didn't see how that was possible. He tried to comprehend the idea of something worse than being controlled. But, between his aching body and din of arguing voices, he couldn't fathom it.

Why was he trying to figure this out, anyway? These are the same people who think he needs his fingers to use magic! His fingers. The thought struck him strongly. Without knowing exactly why he began to desperately pretend to focus on freeing his fingers. Meanwhile, Cara began to scream louder and more emphatically to be allowed to train Merlin. Amongst the shouting and screaming Merlin was able to catch snatches of the arguments. Cara at one point shrieked, "He'll be controlled either way!"

Suddenly, Merlin realized that none of his captors were paying the slightest attention to him. Merlin muttered a spell under his breath. Suddenly, a loud rumbling noise drowned out the argument. The combatants scrambled to avoid being squished by a falling tree.

After nimbly dodging the tree's path, Cara turned just in time to see Merlin pull himself up. He used a nearby tree for support. His hands were no longer bound. His face bore a mask of defiance.

Cara charged. Merlin lifted his hand and muttered a spell. Fool! She thought as she lifted her hand to deflect the spell back at that miserable pipsqueak.

Thud!

Both Cara and Merlin slammed into the ground. Cara panicked. Why had her powers failed her?

Merlin's heartbeat rattled his whole chest. His spell didn't work right. Cara should have gone flying through the forest. Merlin scrambled to his feet. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he fled back to Camelot.

Arthur again woke earlier than he would have liked. For a moment Arthur expected to hear Merlin's usual "Rise and shine." When nothing but silence greeted him, Arthur opened his eyes. The sight of the room was an instant, wretched reminder of the past few days.

Arthur pulled himself out of bed. He sleepily shuffled to the wardrobe. As he opened the wardrobe, Arthur realized a terrible fact. He had no clean clothes. The only fabric in the room that wasn't coated in mud was the clothes Arthur wore yesterday. He could wear them again. However, they were beginning to stink and need a good washing. He would just wear the stinky clothes until he could get rid of the mud.

Now, how was Arthur going to arrange for his clothes to be cleaned? Merlin couldn't do it; he needed to rest. Arthur didn't want a random servant to know the slightest bit about this. That only left Gwen. Arthur was not going to have her do it. Arthur stared at the fabric that was stashed behind the screen. Arthur figured he could clean one of the shirts. He certainly didn't want to. But what other choice did he have? Besides, it couldn't be that hard. Merlin was just a whiner.

Arthur snatched one of the shirts, sat at the end of his bed, and started scrubbing. (Unwittingly, he only rubbed the stains in deeper.) After several minutes of toiling, Arthur heard the bedroom door open. Panicked, Arthur dropped the filthy shirt. He looked up to see his father enter.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Uther asked, staring at the soiled shirt.

"Uh, I was just wishing Merlin was here to clean it," Arthur rambled, wishing he had an excuse that didn't sound so dumb. He scooped up the shirt and walked toward the fireplace. Arthur tried to look casual. He only wanted to draw his father away from the possibility of seeing behind the screen.

Uther gave an odd look. "Shouldn't he be here?" Uther's eyes trailed around the room, noting the muddy walls and floor, and the lack of drapes.

"He's ill."

"I saw him in the halls. He looked fresh from the stables. I would have thought even he would realize what needs are more," Uther paused indicating the room, "pressing."

Arthur felt the blood drain from his face. Merlin fresh from the stables? Was the effects of the potion not completely gone?

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Uther asked.

"Yes," Arthur answered quickly, "What was it you needed?"

Uther left his son's messy room. Sometimes Uther wondered why Arthur didn't replace that stupid, lazy, and incompetent servant... or at least punish him!

"You," Uther said commandingly to a passing servant.

"Yes, your majesty," the man immediately bowed.

"Prince Arthur needs a temporary replacement for his manservant. See to his needs," Uther ordered. Maybe this servant would be at least somewhat competent. Then Arthur might see sense.

As the king left, the servant knocked on on Prince Arthur's door. The door cracked open. The prince stuck his head out.

The servant bowed. "The king requested that I tend to your needs."

"That won't be necessary," Prince Arthur replied, "I don't wish to be disturbed."

"Yes, Sire," the servant bowed again. He resumed walking down the corridor to his usual, everyday tasks. If the prince didn't want to be disturbed now, then the servant could always carry out the king's order later.

Once the servant was out of sight, Arthur walked briskly toward Gaius' chambers. Arthur had to be certain whether or not his father had seen Merlin.

Arthur barged into Gaius' chambers.

"Where is he?" Arthur shouted.

Gaius scowled, "If you bring Merlin into work today, high treason or not, I will kill you."

Arthur stared, taken aback. He had never known Gaius to make such threats.

"I want to see Merlin," Arthur insisted matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry, but he's resting," Gaius countered.

"Are you sure?"

Without waiting for an answer, Arthur marched past Gaius. He opened Merlin's bedroom door. Arthur stared in surprise. Merlin was resting in his bed on his stomach. However, he was covered in dirt, leaves, and burs. Merlin's feet, which hung far off the bed, were cut and dirty.

Gaius entered, prepared to flame Arthur with the evidence that Merlin needed to be left alone. Whatever Gaius had planned to say morphed into this:

"Merlin, what happened?"

"I was kidnapped under your nose!" Merlin moaned.

"Who kidnapped you?" Gaius asked without thinking. What if Merlin said something that gave away his secret?

"The crazy people. They wrapped each of my fingers. They think that can stop a sorcerer from using magic," Merlin tried to use his hand expressively.

"How would you know whether or not that stops magic, Merlin?" Gaius tried to hint to Merlin. That boy might as well be confessing to Arthur.

"What? Gaius—"

"You're still asleep aren't you, Merlin?" Gaius hastily cut across Merlin's words. However, it might be too late to salvage the situation.

"I am NOT asleep!" Merlin tried to shout.

"Yes, we can all see that, Merlin," Arthur said sarcastically.

"Arthur," Merlin's head snapped up an inch. Good, Gaius thought, he realizes what he almost did. Merlin then buried his head back into the mattress, which muffled his voice. "I'm not going to work! I'm not!"

"I don't want you to. In fact, why would anyone kidnap you? You're not even a good servant," Arthur prodded for more of a reaction from Merlin.

Merlin groaned. He babbled incoherently. Arthur caught only small snatches, including: "I don't know," and something about screaming, "training" (did he hear that one right?), mind control, arguing, and tied fingers. Then:

"And they think I idolize you. They think I idolize a condescending, self-absorbed clotpole!"

"You idolize me?" Arthur smirked. Merlin walked right into this one. "We all thought it was the potion. You were actually idolizing me on purpose," Arthur taunted.

"Merlin needs to rest," Gaius intervened. He scowled at Arthur to leave.

"Alright," Arthur turned to leave. Just as he went through the door Arthur shouted, "Once you're well, my boots need cleaning."

Arthur strutted through the halls, feeling pleased with himself. But he was bothered by the fact that Merlin was kidnapped. Why would anyone want to kidnap him? And how did he escape? Merlin feeling well and escaping would have been a wonder. But this... it seemed impossible. Arthur couldn't decide whether Merlin being kidnapped or Merlin inexplicably escaping was more bothersome.

"Guinevere," Arthur said delightedly at the sight of the loveliest woman he knew. Seeing that no one was around, he pulled her aside. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. You were right. Something was wrong with Merlin. It's been taken care of... mostly."

"Mostly?" Gwen raised her eyebrows.

Arthur explained that Merlin dumped a potion on himself and about the struggle to make Merlin drink said potion. He then added, "We're going to need a cover story. I don't want everyone to think I beat my servants. How do we explain the broken rib and rope burns?"

"Why does Merlin have rope burns?" Gwen asked incredulously. She couldn't imagine that Arthur would actually tie up Merlin.

"He was kidnapped last night," Arthur paused. He considered telling her who the kidnappers were. However, he worried that her knowing would cause her unnecessary worry. On the other hand, thinking random bandits had kidnapped Merlin could be just as worrisome. Frankly, Arthur hadn't planned on telling Gwen about the kidnapping anyway. He would rather simply catch the nuisances and end this issue entirely. Gwen would no longer have reason to worry. However, if this was going to drag on, then Gwen had every right to know all the details.

"Why would anyone kidnap Merlin?" Gwen rolled the idea over in her head. Whoever did it was not picking a random target for slave trade. A slave trader wouldn't need or want to search past the lower town for victims-if they even dared to enter the city. Merlin lived in the court physician's home which was in the castle itself. Whoever targeted Merlin was after more than a simple slave trade profit. But why else would someone want to kidnap Merlin? What could Merlin have possibly done to deserve such attention?

"They must be insane. They're also incompetent, because Merlin managed to escape," Arthur side-stepped the question. If they truly were so incompetent, then catching them shouldn't be too hard. Arthur could stop them before they had the chance to give Gwen anymore cause to worry. "Merlin's alright, but we need an explanation for the rope burns. For some reason they tied his individual fingers, so..." Arthur trailed off. He decided it best to not mention the reasoning behind the finger binding. Arthur was appalled by how many people were stupid enough to believe Merlin could possibly be a sorcerer.

"I've got it!" Arthur clapped. "I didn't realize Merlin was ill. He was scrubbing my drapes—which would explain the finger rope burns. He was carrying them away, at some point, and he fell down the stairs. The drapes ended up getting tangled around him—his wrists especially. If anyone asks, you could say you witnessed this. You could even say that, before he fell, you heard him insist he was fine when I tried to ask if he was feeling unwell."

"Arthur, I..." Gwen didn't want to burst his bubble but... "I really don't think this is a good idea."

"I'd love a better idea. Please tell me you have one," Arthur responded hopefully.

Gwen hesitated, hoping to be suddenly struck by brilliance, before answering, "No, I don't."

Morgana wandered about her room wishing Morgause would contact her. Morgause always had the most glorious plans to overthrow Camelot. Morgana was eager to implement another one. Maybe Morgana could cook up her own plan. No... She couldn't do that because she couldn't think of anything. There was no obvious machination for her to tamper with. And even if Morgana could come up with something elaborate, she wouldn't carry it out without consulting Morgause. She spent another five minutes pondering what schemes she could concoct before finally giving up. As her mind drifted to the virtues of brushing her hair, Gwen returned.

Gwen's face was a poorly concealed mask of worry. Morgana's heart leapt. Maybe she would get a chance to bring Camelot to its knees after all. Morgana suppressed an unwarranted smirk.

"Whatever is the matter, Gwen?" She inquired fakely.

Gwen hastily babbled, explaining that Merlin was hurt. Morgana turned away to hide her glee from Gwen. Between Gwen's babbling and Morgana's exhilaration, Morgana didn't hear much else. She caught snatches about "illness," and "a terrible fall down the stairs." Morgana forced her face into a fake mold of concern.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Morgana's eyes grew wide and her lower jaw twitched as she lied. She placed her hand on Gwen's arm as a sign of comfort. Inwardly, Morgana was formulating a plan that would give Gwen cause to weep.

Gwen gave Morgana a taunt smile. Quickly, Gwen resumed her duties to avoid anymore chat on the unpleasant subject. Surprisingly, Morgana seemed to buy Arthur's ridiculous story. How Gwen had made that story sound plausible, she had no idea. She just didn't want to destroy the effect by overdoing it.

Morgana moved to a window. As she stared out the window, a nasty plan began to lay itself out before her. It was an opportunity to inconspicuously kill Merlin. The idea was too wonderful to pass up. Sure, it wouldn't get her any closer to overthrowing Camelot, but it would be fun. The revenge, and Gwen, Arthur, and Gaius' reactions to Merlin's sudden death would surely be priceless. Morgana couldn't help it—she smirked.

We promise the next chapter will be up soon. Proof: we know its title already. (We usually pick it two seconds before posting the chapter.) Didn't you just point out that "Lies do not become us"? :P (By the way, kudos if you know what that's from). We usually pick the name while you're transcribing it into the computer. That takes anywhere from a few hours to a few days. However, Zab is right that we have the chapter name: Murphy's Law.

But we digress. Back to the point.

Please review. And please don't give up on us.