It took Arthur two days before he could pluck up the courage to leave the Knights. The rest of them couldn't return as well, it would draw too much attention if they all came thundering back in like the devil was on their heels. But Arthur couldn't throw of the feeling that something was very wrong. He had only got a glimpse of the nobles that had been standing either side of his servant as he had left, but it was enough to send shivers down his spine. One, he knew would not bode well for Merlin, he knew what Bromley was like. The other, however, was the problem. Arthur had only caught a sideways glance of his face, and by the time he had blinked the shock out of his vision, the man had moved out of his eye line. Still, Arthur was sure he wasn't going to forget the face of the man who had poisoned him. Was Acrotus really here in Camelot, or was Arthur just being paranoid?

Despite knowing it would drive them mad with worry, he left the Knights in the middle of the night, using the cover of darkness. He left Leon a note, knowing their minds would go into overdrive about what could have happened to him otherwise, but had slipped onto his horse alone. As Arthur cantered away from the camp and back towards Camelot, his mind a mixture of fear and concern, a thought lodged itself in his mind. This was the first time he had been on his own since they had found him. He wasn't sure whether again, it was him imagining things, but the burn had been affecting him more on the camping trip. Part of Arthur knew it went back longer than that, it had been affecting him ever since Merlin had begun to distance himself slightly. What was it about his servant that stopped the burn paining him as much?

His mind plagued and distracted, Arthur gave the horse her head, knowing that she knew the way home and urged her into speeds he knew was potentially risky considering he wasn't up to his full strength. He wouldn't be able to hold on the way he used to be able too, and if she took anything at a leap, he knew he would be off. But there was something driving him, a feeling deep within that he couldn't shake off. He knew something was wrong. What was annoying him was that he didn't know what that something was.

By riding hard through the night, Arthur made Camelot by the morning. He was breathless and flushed, sweating as he almost dropped from his horse and more than exhausted, limbs trembling with the effort of standing up. But he was back.

Handing the reigns to the stable boy, Arthur forced his weary legs into jogging up the steps. Once he reached the top, he had no choice but to pause, bending over as he tried to ease the cramp that had taken up residence in his left leg. He wasn't up to this yet, but knew that he had to keep going. Hearing someone coming, Arthur straightened up, lifted his head high and set off slowly, nodding to the guards as they shot him looks of confusion. It had been made known that Arthur was to spend a few days away hunting, but there was no way they were about to question what he was doing back in the castle. They were better trained than that.

Even so, Arthur kept his footsteps light and stayed close to the wall as he made his swift way through the castle, knowing precisely where he was going. He still wasn't completely happy with dealing with strangers on his own, and didn't want anything to distract him from reaching his destination. Eventually, though, the door he had been making a beeline towards came into view. Arthur raised his hand to knock, shrugged with a slight smirk and backed up a pace. How much of his strength he had regained? Arthur lifted a foot and slammed it into the door.

Even he couldn't hide his grin as it went crashing open. It seemed Leon's strict training regime had been paying off after all. The occupant of the room jumped up in surprise, but before he could say anything, Arthur had entered. Grabbing the man by the collar, he slammed him back into the wall.

"Where is he?"

"Arthur? What the hell are you doing?"

"Give it up, Bromley! I saw you eye up Merlin, what have you done to him?" Realising that the man was struggling to breathe, Arthur loosened his grip slightly with satisfaction, but didn't let go. It was nice to know that despite everything that had happened, he could still make a man tremble.

"Nothing." Arthur raised an eyebrow in disbelief, his hand automatically going to his belt. He still wasn't carrying a sword yet, the metal rubbing against a slow healing wound on his leg. But he did still have his dagger, and was preparing to put it to good use. Bromley saw the movement and knew what it meant. "Okay, okay, so I tried. I might have attempted to force him when he resisted, but I never did it, I swear. Someone threw me off and I haven't see the boy since. I swear, Sire, I swear!"

Arthur's grip had been slowly tightening as he registered what Bromley had been saying, but at the same time, he could see the truth in the man's eyes. Merlin wasn't here. Letting go, he backed up until the bed hit the back of his knees and he sat down heavily. He was exhausted.

"Are you alright, Sire?" Bromley moved forward, watching Arthur in genuine concern. The prince offered him a weak smile.

"Since when have you called me that?"

"Since you were about to pull a knife on me." The noble said with a shrug, pouring out a goblet of water and handing it to Arthur. "Sorry, but you look like crap." Arthur huffed slightly, but took the water with a genuine smile of gratitude.

"You have to learn Camelot isn't you estate, Bromley. We don't just bed whoever we want here." The man bristled slightly in anger.

"That wasn't the prince I used to know. What happened to the Arthur I used to meet behind the stables?"

"He grew up." Arthur said slowly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Those days had seemed like a lifetime ago now. He had been young and desperate to prove himself, and Bromley had been more than happy to play along with it. Now, however, Arthur was even more aware of how headstrong and arrogant he had been then. If there was one thing his tormentors had managed to strip from him, it had been his arrogance. He couldn't be that person now, not any more.

"What happened?" Bromley's voice was softer this time as he pulled around his chair so that he could sit in front of Arthur. He wouldn't act like this in front of anyone else, but he could see the genuine pain in Arthur's eyes. Something had happened to the confident young man, and as bad as he looked now, Bromley could tell this was him recovering. He knew that he was being too familiar with the future King of Camelot, but he had been Arthur's first. There was something about that which seemed to break down the normal boundaries.

"You don't want to know." Arthur muttered dismissively, meeting the man's eyes for a moment before glancing away. He didn't want to be brushing off someone who had been a friend to him, but neither did he want to go into it. "What did you do, Bromley? Merlin's my servant, you should have known you wouldn't have been able to get away with it."

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Arthur rolled his eyes slightly, not surprised the man had seen straight through him. Considering how Bromley used to see him, completely open and practically begging, his act was fooling no one.

"He's my friend. He saved my life. More than saved my life. He stopped me from being destroyed, Bromley. And you tried to do the same to him." This time, the noble had nothing to say and Arthur handed him back the goblet and slowly got to his feet. It seemed Merlin truly wasn't here. But why hadn't the feeling something was wrong not go away in the slightest? Something was very wrong, Arthur could just feel it.

"Who took him?"

"Some swarmy git."

"Bromley. Who took him?" Bromley sighed, also climbing to his feet. He had never seen Arthur act like this before, and knew that he had possibly tried to mess with a bond that he had no understanding off. He wasn't sure if he had ever heard Arthur admit to having a friend before, but there was something in his eyes that warned the noble not to say anything against this servant again. It was clear that Arthur wasn't going to stand for it, not as the boy's master, but as his friend.

"Ac...Art...Acr..."

"Acrotus?" Arthur's whisper was barely even heard, and Bromley was forced to push Arthur back down on the bed for fear that the young man was going to pass out. All the colour had drained from his face, and as the noble watched, his hands were screwed up, his knuckles turning white with the effort.

"That might be it. Arthur, what is it?"

"Nothing." Arthur took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't let the sheer terror he could feel rising up grip him, knowing that he would be no good to Merlin if his own fright got the better of him. "I'm fine." Standing up once more, Arthur paused.

"One more thing."

"What?"

There was no verbal answer to Bromley's question, just Arthur's swinging fist. The man was knocked back by the force behind the punch, toppling onto the bed and nursing his jaw.

"That's for hurting Merlin." Without another word, Arthur strode from the room. Where should he go now? Straight to his father, warn him that one of the people behind Arthur's abduction and subsequent torture was here in the very castle? The prince took one step towards the throne room and changed his mind. If Acrotus had Merlin, that could potentially just put the servant into more danger, for Arthur knew his father wouldn't care if the boy got hurt in the process. Arthur couldn't do that to him, not after everything Merlin had gone through for the prince. No, this was something that Arthur was just going to have to deal with by himself. But where to look?

He had only known where to find Bromley because the man had been such a frequent visitor to Camelot, they kept him his own rooms now to make it easier for everyone. But where would have Acrotus be housed? Arthur hated the fact Leon had taken him from Camelot as the changeover was happening. It meant Arthur had no idea whatsoever as to where he should start looking.

As it happened, he hadn't needed to look very far. Arthur had just started walking the corridors, hoping that fate would somehow reveal which chambers Acrotus was staying in when he caught sight of a familiar black head about to vanish through a door.

"Merlin!" His yell made the servant jump, and as Merlin turned to face him, Arthur closed the distance between them. There was a bruise around his servant's neck and his eyes looked slightly haunted, jumping about anxiously until his gaze settled on Arthur. And then a broad grin spread across his face.

"Arthur? What are you doing here, I thought..."

"I came back. Are you hurt? What's he done? Come away with me now, Merlin, it's okay, you won't have to be near him again..."

"I'm not." Merlin responded, looking confused as he stared at Arthur.

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" Arthur shot back, also frowning. Why wasn't Merlin more relieved to see him, why wasn't he desperate to get away from Acrotus?

"Bromley. I thought...what you said, I thought you knew..."

"I do know." Arthur responded gently, making to put his hand on his friend's shoulder and then stopped himself at the last moment. He knew what he had been like with contact after Dunran, even if that had been multiple times over several months. He still knew what Merlin would be feeling. "But you aren't safe here..."

"It's okay, Arthur, he..." The prince, however, was barely listening to his servant. He was close on hyperventilation, knowing that Acrotus was just behind that door.

"Arthur? Arthur, what's wrong?" There was a sharpness to Merlin's voice that hadn't been present to Bromley's. He knew something was happening that was causing Arthur to panic, but for the life of him, he couldn't work out what. Part of him had known that the prince would be angry when he found out what Bromley had done, but this? This was not the reaction Merlin had been expecting in the slightest, nor had he thought to see Arthur for a few more days at least. "Where are the others? What's happened, Arthur?"

"Nothing!" Arthur practically yelled, his eyes sliding past Merlin and onto the door behind him. "You have to come away, now. Come on, Merlin!" Reaching out, he grabbed Merlin's wrist in an almost vice like grip and began walking away. Even weakened, Arthur had recovered enough of his strength to take Merlin by surprise, successfully managing to drag his servant a few steps before Merlin managed to think straight again and fought against Arthur's grip.

"You're not making any sense! Arthur, stop it, you're hurting me. Just let go, talk to me. What's wrong?" Struggling against the hold on his wrist, Merlin's eyes were wide and slightly scared as he took in the expression on Arthur's face. The prince looked nothing short of terrified, and Merlin knew that made him dangerous.

"Merlin?" The door had opened, and Arthur immediately let go, almost springing away from Merlin as if burnt, eyes locked on the figure had who dragged him to the brink of death and back painfully numerous times. "Prince Arthur! What a surprise. You are looking well, my Lord. Was there something you needed my servant for?"

Fog was descending on Arthur's mind now, he couldn't think straight, didn't notice Merlin take a step closer in concern.

"Merlin, come away, he looks positively dangerous like that. I don't want you to get hurt." Arthur could hear the words, but it was if they were muted, muffled somehow. The voice was drowning out all senses. How could he just stand there, bold as brass, and even hint that he thought Arthur was looking well? Compared to the last time he had seen the prince, Arthur looked wonderful, but for him to even think of making any type of reference to Arthur's hell?

"Sire, look at me." Merlin had got closer again, ignoring Acrotus's words as he put his hand on Arthur's shoulder, letting his fingers rest against Arthur's neck in a comforting gesture. He couldn't help but frown at the erratic pulse he could feel. "Was it the nightmare again?"

Arthur shook his head, unable to talk, unable to say a word. He couldn't even look at Merlin, his eyes fixed on Acrotus. With the servant's back to him, Acrotus smirked in satisfaction, something for Arthur's eyes only. Arthur's hand reached blindly for Merlin, and he just held on to the first thing he came in contact with. Taking a step backwards, he pulled Merlin with him, not realising that he had his friend by the front of his shirt.

"Arthur, let go! Talk to me, just let go!" Trying to prise the grip away, Merlin felt a flash of fear. He didn't know how to deal with Arthur like this. With the knights around, it was fine. They tended to be able to hold him down whilst Merlin spoke soothingly to him, banishing the prince's demons, occasionally with the odd spell when Arthur was particularly bad. But despite not reacting, Arthur was almost on hyper-alert, there was no way Merlin could use magic. And Arthur simply didn't seem to be hearing a word he was saying.

"Guards!" Acrotus' call brought two men around the corner. They were not wearing Camelot's colours, but were Acrotus' own personal guards. "The prince is having a funny turn, escort him back to his chambers and fetch the physician." He ordered, pretend concern in his voice and eyes when Merlin glanced at him. Arthur shook his head, holding on tighter to Merlin, but the guards moved forward. Gently but firmly, they prised him away and Acrotus immediately took Merlin's arm – far more gently than Arthur had and pushed him towards the door.

"Go in there, Merlin, you'll be safe. I'll let you go to him when he has calmed down, but it isn't safe to be around him at the moment." Merlin took one glance at the look in Arthur's eye, and nodded. Much as it pained him to not be with Arthur right now, he knew that if the prince was to hurt him by accident, it would set them right back in Arthur's recovery. He had only just begun to trust himself again. Merlin couldn't let that happen, and with a sorrowful gaze, he ducked through the door. Acrotus closed it behind him.

"Get rid of him." His voice was cold and he simply watched as one of the guards sunk his fist into Arthur's stomach. Doubled over, winded, and terrified for his friend's safety, Arthur could offer very little fight as they dragged him through the corridors and dumped him unceremoniously in his room.

As the door snapped shut behind him, Arthur screamed in frustration. Acrotus would be keeping Merlin close now, and the prince had seen the look on the boy's face. Merlin had been almost scared of him.

How was he supposed to get him away from the sadistic noble now?