I've received applause for little Bedivere, who I also think is adorable. Don't worry, he's safe from me.
Here's a little tidbit: I took a cue from J. K. Rowling, and mentioned something a few chapters ago that will become VERY important later on. See if you can guess what it is...
Merlin really isn't mine (of course, that's what I have to tell you...)
And...what you have all been waiting for...Merlin!
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Merlin returned to consciousness with a groan. What had happened? Was there another assassin?
Carefully he cracked open his eyelids, trying to ignore what felt like stones pinging off the walls of his skull.
He was in a one-room cabin. Furnishings were sparse, with no personal touches anywhere in sight. He was in a corner, to the left of the doorway.
Merlin looked around in confusion. Why was he here? Where was here? What had happened? Why did it feel as if something vital was missing?
Merlin's heartbeat quickened and he closed his eyes. Is Arthur in danger?
Panic threatened to bury him, looming on the horizon. Merlin breathed deeply, in and out. He had to remain calm, no matter what. If he panicked, he didn't know if he could remain rational. He needed all the facts before jumping to conclusions.
It took several seconds to realize that there was something missing. Something that was part of him, something he used to define his entire being. The headache redoubled as he caught his breath.
His magic was gone.
It wasn't out of reach, or pushed out of the way. It was simply gone, as if it had never existed, as if it hadn't run through him like the blood in his veins since the moment he was born.
It had simply...evaporated.
Merlin could hardly think through the headache raging inside his head, seeming to originate from somewhere on the back of his skull. Bells were clanging and booming discordantly while his thoughts shrieked where is it where is it WHERE IS IT growing increasingly louder and louder as panic threatened to close in and it tried to be heard over the bells that were pounding and what is going on where is Arthur...
Arthur.
Desperately, Merlin grasped on to the one thing he knew to be stable, solid ground in an endless ocean determined to pull him under.
Stay sane. You need to stay sane for Arthur. He might need you.
Merlin took deep, measured breaths, repeating it in a mantra, linking him back to stability.
It was a few minutes before he was calm enough to open his eyes again. This time, he looked at himself.
He was relatively unscathed. Save for the lump on the back of his head, there were no more injuries, other than a few scrapes and bruises. Those were most likely from being moved while he was unconscious. He knew from experience how unwieldy someone who was incapable of movement could be. Only then did Merlin notice the cuff around his right wrist.
His first thought was, Wonderful. Deeper scars.
His second thought was, Why is it so small?
Indeed, in Merlin's experience, manacles were usually large and thick, obviously to prevent prisoners from escaping their chains by force alone. If this cuff was put on someone like Percival, he would be out with one rush of adrenaline.
You're not Percival, so it doesn't really matter if it's smaller, a part of his mind noted.
He looked closer, and saw the cuff was covered in runes.
Goosebumps rose on Merlin's skin as he realized that the cuff was the thing that had separated him from his magic. He grasped it with his left hand, and attempted to pull it off. No luck.
He tried twisting it a few more times until he gave up. Only then did he notice his left ankle had a manacle on it, a real one, with a short chain attached to a bolt in the floor.
"Alright," he said aloud, deciding to gather his thoughts in order, "I need to figure out...whatever's going on."
He took another deep breath. How to do that?
Well, when all is lost, start at the beginning. What did he last remember? There had been the tense...conversation with Agravaine...then Gwaine pulling him into the room and telling him oh-so-casually that they had all heard that particular verbal duel - thanks for that, Gwaine, nearly made my heart stop - and subsequent questioning...unthinkingly revealing his scars...and...a deer...
Merlin blinked. Some of his memories were jumbled, and he wasn't sure what he remembered was real. There was a very clear memory of a deer with one eye, and for some reason he felt it was important. But hadn't he been in Arthur's chambers with everyone else, asking what the plan was to deal with Agravaine?
Merlin rubbed his hand against his forehead. He wondered, rather guiltily, if this was what Arthur felt like every time he woke from being knocked unconscious, by Merlin or otherwise. Probably. He told himself sternly that he really should find another way of getting Arthur safely out of the way, because over a dozen blows like this would negate the term of 'safely'.
Again, the thought of Arthur sobered him. He needed to get out, because if Merlin was a prisoner it was usually to clear the way to Arthur. Merlin decided to make a list of facts to make it easier on his pounding head.
One: I was kidnapped.
Two: The person who did it knows about my magic.
Three: They found a way around that.
Four: They are clever.
Five: If I do not get out, Arthur will die.
Six: I cannot get out.
Merlin's head jerked around at the sudden sound of the door opening.