A/N: Here we are again. Thank you very much for all your reviews, favourites, and alerts. I was particularly overwhelmed by all those favourites this week, so thank you to all of you guys! I hope you continue to enjoy this chapter - and, as promised, Merlin and Arthur interaction features in this chapter :) Dunno if you can call it happy fluffy 'bromance', but enjoy regardless :)

Disclaimer: I still don't own Merlin.

3

When Merlin heard the door to Gaius' chambers open, he shot up from his lying position on his bed, and groaned uncomfortably when he realised his left shoulder and leg had tensed up from lying in the same place for too long. He muttered a quick spell, just to ease the discomfort and allow himself to walk without an odd limp in his step.

He opened the door from his own little room to see his mentor putting away some odd ingredients for potions he'd taken just in case Arthur had needed them.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, trying not to sound too worried, but after the tiny slip of the conversation he'd heard, he wasn't really sure whether this was still nothing to worry about, like Gaius had first presumed. "Is he okay? What was wrong?"

Gaius kept a straight face, as per usual, and replied in a calm tone. "He's had a few nightmares."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at the physician now, gesturing for him to keep going. "I heard that part. What else?"

Gaius frowned, "I'm afraid I can't say."

Merlin huffed in frustration, exasperation. He knew this was coming. "He told you not to tell me, didn't he?"

"He instructed me not to tell anyone, Merlin." Gaius emphasised, looking apologetically at his ward.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to betray him and give away the information to Morgana, is it?" Merlin kept his temper under control, because he didn't want to yell at Gaius, but he didn't like being in the dark. Especially when it came to Arthur. He wanted to know everything he could, at all times. It was, after all, his destiny to keep Arthur safe so that, one day, they could unite Albion together. He doubted he could achieve this destiny if he'd lost sight of Arthur for one second and the young Prince had ended up dead, or on a different path to the one destiny planned for him.

"I don't think that's what he is worried about, Merlin."

Merlin sighed, "He's too worried about his pride, isn't he?"

"I think he's trying to keep it as low-down as possible." Gaius enlightened gently. "He doesn't want his father to find out - probably in case there is magic involved."

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in desperation. "That doesn't help me at all." He muttered, "I need to get ahead of whatever's happening. I need to find out what is going on, or Arthur could be in danger." The warlock began pacing, just a little. He paced aimlessly up the room, and then back down again, before turning back to his carer. "What did you tell Arthur to do? Did you give him a sleeping draught?"

Gaius shuffled a little, almost as if he was ashamed that he hadn't considered it. "I told him to report to me if he had another dream in case-,"

"In case of the sorcerer?" Merlin prompted. "I heard that part too." If Gaius was feeling any anger or irritation at Merlin's eavesdropping, he didn't show it. He stood, watching the boy, remaining completely stoic. So Merlin calmed himself down and instead talked to his elder in a pleading tone. "Gaius, whatever is going on, magic is involved. Please, I need you to tell me what is going on, because while we're sitting here just waiting, a sorcerer could be out there plotting Arthur's demise. You know I can't let that happen. Please."

Gaius watched Merlin for a good few moments. The look on his face was indecisive and questioning – betray the Prince, or save him?

He shook his head after a few moments, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Merlin, I can't. Not until I'm certain of what is going on." Merlin's shoulders dropped noticeably.

"And while you do that," Merlin mumbled, "the sorcerer will be planning Arthur's destruction. And there's nothing we can do to stop him."

Hours later, and Merlin was far into his list of chores. Chores which, on a normal day, he would despise, but he was glad that today they were distracting him from his thoughts. Though the menial nature of the tasks allowed his mind to wander, at least he was polishing Arthur's armour as oppose to reading page after page of useless spells.

That's how he felt. Useless. Usually he'd have a plan by now, or at least a vague idea of what was going on and a hint of an idea of how he was going to stop the enemy's plot. But, as he watched the sun rise into the sky and then sink below the forests as the day went by, he felt more and more like the worthless servant Arthur claimed him to be.

He just wished Arthur had confided in him, rather than Gaius. He understood why he spoke to Gaius – not only was he the Court Physician, but he had know Arthur since the day he was born – but if Arthur had chosen to confess about his dreams to Merlin that morning, when he'd woken him up, then Merlin could be working on a plan right now, helping Arthur with whatever was going on, and getting rid of this 'sorcerer' that had supposedly entered Arthur's dreams. And, if these dreams had been an ongoing thing, like Gaius said, for how long? How long had a vengeful sorcerer been driven on possessing the Prince of Camelot's dreams? And what had he said, or done, to stick so strongly to Arthur's mind?

But then, what if Gaius was right? Merlin hadn't completely ruled out the possibility that, maybe, the sorcerer was doing this for good. Or maybe it was just Arthur's mind messing with him.

But really, when did that ever happen before?

Merlin knew that, though he hadn't let go of the possibility that, this time, nothing was threatening the safety of his future King, he wasn't going to let his guard down either. He made a self-set oath that he would keep an eye on Arthur whenever he was around him and make sure he remembered everything that seemed off about the Prince's behaviour. He'd also make sure that, whenever he could, he'd try to prompt Arthur to tell him what was going on, just so that he wasn't so much in the dark.

And so, when twilight approached, and when Merlin was dressing the Prince in his night clothes, he made sure he did just that. He tried to not make it too obvious to Arthur of his plan, because he knew then that the Prince, considering his previous reaction to Merlin's eavesdropping, would be furious should he realise what was happening. Merlin really wasn't up for Arthur's wrath tonight, and he was sure that Arthur would be less than happy to deliver a punishment. After a hectic day, he was clearly exhausted; he would not show it, but his slow movements and the way he rubbed his eyes as Merlin tried to help him out of his boots suggested that these nightmares hadn't done just mental damage to the Prince but also deprived him of his usually undisturbed sleep.

"You alright, Sire?" Merlin asked, hiding a laugh as Arthur yawned, looking younger than Merlin had ever seen him.

"I'm fine, Merlin." Arthur snapped, but his body betrayed him and another yawn escaped his mouth, causing Merlin to grin in victory.

"Uh, really?" The warlock pressed. "Because, you seem so tired that you can barely stand."

"I am not tired." Arthur whined, almost like a child protesting against bedtime.

"It's okay," Merlin continued regardless, helping the Prince shrug on a shirt, "I understand; you've had a busy day, and you're exhausted. We all get days like those, sometimes."

"Not me." Arthur growled under his breath, emphasising each word.

Merlin was relentless. "Well, I only usually have a bad day if I've had a bad night beforehand." Arthur seemed to tense at the words, only slightly, but his expression was smooth and he did not seem to be playing along with the game his manservant was so desperately playing. "You know; those horrible nights when you can't sleep?"

"My sleeping habits are like that of a hibernating animal." Arthur grumbled. Merlin shrugged as he turned to the wardrobe to find a pair of breeches.

"Well, you got the animal part right." The servant mumbled, quietly enough so that one could only hear from a few feet away. Unluckily for Merlin, his Master was stood right beside him.

"I heard that." The Prince snarled. Merlin raised his hands in surrender, "But as I was saying," Arthur continued sharply, "I haven't had a restless night since I was a child."

"Well, anything can spur a restless night." Merlin said, seeming to be, for the first time, throwing in the towel at whatever game he was playing, in Arthur's eyes. However, Merlin knew he was not one to give in so prematurely. The silence from the servant was short-lived and he spoke again, "You could've had something on your mind. Maybe about a meeting?"

Arthur sighed. "No." He answered shortly.

"Were you thinking about someone, maybe? Worrying about your father? Or Gwen?"

"No."

Merlin had had enough of throwing bait now and eagerly went in for the kill. "Then it must've been about those dreams you've been having."

Almost instantly Merlin knew he'd made a mistake. Arthur may have not been in a fully alert condition, but Merlin saw his fists clench and shoulders hunch at his words. Arthur took in a sharp intake of breath, span around to face his servant, who had been stood right behind him while he put on his breeches, and charged towards him. Merlin, out of pure instinctual fright, backed up until he collided loudly with the wardrobe. Arthur raised his fist, pressing his free hand onto Merlin's chest to keep him in place, and Merlin hoped it was just for effect.

"I told you not to mention that." The Prince warned coldly.

"No, you told me not to tell anyone else, and to not listen in to any more of your conversation." Merlin corrected, though his hands were shaking a little. He didn't know whether his shaking hands were doing so out of just normal human fear or if it was his magic trying to push itself out in protection, but he gritted his teeth behind his lips and tried as hard as he could to suppress his magical urge in front of his unknowing Prince who was mad enough as it was. He swallowed, "And I didn't."

Arthur's face was screwed up in anger and he was breathing almost violently. He glared furiously at his manservant, before lowering his fist, removing his hand from the boy's chest. He let out a long sigh, before poking his finger sharply to Merlin's chest.

"What is going on is none of your business, Merlin." He said, the anger in his tone a lot less than before, but still present enough that Merlin felt that the Prince would probably be tempted to hit him at any moment, should he give him reason to. "You are not to mention it, and that is an order."

"But, maybe I could help!" Merlin offered desperately.

"An order, Merlin!" Arthur repeated, his voice rising dangerously.

"Arthur, I only want to help you." Merlin said, his voice low. His expression was soft and he was still; the complete opposite to his Master, who was now pacing in front of him.

Arthur was scowling. He snapped his body around to face Merlin again. He let out a hollow, callous snort of derision. "Can you never do as you're told, Merlin?" The Prince asked, "I am your Prince and your Master and you will listen to me when I give you an order!"

"Arthur…" Merlin spoke quietly, so as not to provoke the fuming man who, despite being a little shorter, was now towering over him. He inhaled carefully. "You're not just my Prince, or my Master. You're my friend. I want you to be safe, happy; whatever has happened, it's obviously upset you, and I want to help you."

Another derisive laugh. It was cold and empty, and it made Merlin shudder.

"This is out of your hands, Merlin." The Prince barked, coming dangerously close to his face. Merlin's magic bubbled inside of him, but he kept it down. "This is too far out of your power for you to be of any use." Arthur turned on his heels, scoffing, "You're just a servant!"

The Prince kicked angrily at his shirt, which had been abandoned on the floor in a fit of rage, his breathing jagged. Merlin himself took a couple of deep breaths, not yet ready to give up on the Prince. He approached Arthur, who was stood by his bedside now, in the same way that an animal enthusiast would approach a rare and beautiful, but anxious, member of a species. This was just how Merlin saw his Prince – rare; maybe even one-of-a-kind. Yet, in this state, he was easily agitated and the slightest wrong move on Merlin's part could be fatal for his cause. Merlin didn't dare to put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, in case he recoiled and shut him out for good; rather, he stood just behind him, comforting, his presence inviting but not demanding. Arthur seemed to calm down, if only just a little.

"Arthur," Merlin spoke again, this time, though calm, with a determination in his voice. "I'm not going to let you get hurt." And he meant it. He really, really did. He had for years and he wasn't going to stop now.

Arthur was silent.

"Whether I'm just a servant or not," Merlin continued, "I will always be here for you. I will always lay down my life for you, be here to help you… but I can't help you if you don't tell me the problem."

Arthur seemed to be combating something inside his head. He twitched a couple of times, he shook his head, he paced backwards and forwards… he stopped finally and Merlin hoped he would turn to face him with a small smile and confide everything in his servant.

"Get out." It was a whisper, but the harshness in it was clear.

Merlin's heart sank. "Arthur-,"

"Out!" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, and Merlin recoiled back a step. Arthur's uneven breathing slowed and a look of guilt flashed across his face. Whether it was for scaring his servant or at the thought that he could have woken people in neighbouring rooms, Merlin was unsure. But the next look that crossed Arthur's face was… almost pleading. A silent message of 'please leave me alone' passed through the Prince's eyes as he looked up at the warlock. Merlin's feeling of hopelessness only climbed at this. Arthur never begged. Arthur was never so desperate unless he was desperate for a good cause. And he certainly never gave off a look that was so pathetic, so pitiable; it was like he just couldn't do this right now and was pleading Merlin to realise that.

And he did. Without so much as a respectful nod, the servant was out of the room and down the corridor, though reluctantly, as fast as he could.

But what he didn't see was the Prince watching the door long after his servant had left the room, before collapsing onto his bed and letting his head fall limply into his hands as he shook it from side to side, a sigh of desperation fleeing from his throat.

"I'm doing it." Merlin concluded as he strode into Gaius' chambers, slamming the door behind him. Gaius looked up from a book he was reading to see his ward pace straight into his room, only to emerge a few seconds later with the magical spell book he'd given him in his first week in Camelot clutched in his right hand. "I don't care if you tell me to not get involved – I'm sick of waiting."

The physician looked up at his ward but did not reply or reprimand him in any way; rather, he bowed his head back down with a sigh, clearly knowing it was no use questioning what the warlock had in mind and for that, Merlin was grateful. He didn't want to argue with his carer, like he had that morning.

With that thought a curl of guilt spiked at Merlin's chest like a stab in the gut. He looked softly at the man across the room.

"Gaius?"

The physician looked up again, replying patiently, "Yes, Merlin?"

The warlock bit his lip, "I'm sorry. Sorry for arguing with you, this morning."

Gaius' gaze was soft, and Merlin felt comfortable; his guilt was washed away like rubble that had quickly rushed to the shore before being dragged back to sea again. "Don't worry, Merlin." He assured him, "You were only doing what you felt would be best for Arthur. I cannot blame you for defending what you believe to be right."

Merlin was smiling now; a large, bubbly smile that most of the castle residents would recognise as Merlin's personal smile.

"Thank you," Merlin replied.

"Oh, and Merlin?"

"Yes?"

Gaius gave him a caring smile, "Whatever it is you're planning now… just be careful."

Merlin forced a reassuring smile onto his lips, because, though he believed that he would be fine as he had gotten himself into far worse scraps than this in his time in Camelot, he didn't really know what he was even doing, or if there really was even a spell for it.

"I will." He promised, not allowing the promise to sound hollow, before shutting his door behind him and striding towards his bed, dropping onto the bed and opening the book at the page he had left at that morning.

After the argument with Arthur, Merlin was even more determined now than he had been before to come up with a plan. It was clear to him now that the Prince would not change his mind on keeping his dreams as closed-off as possible to the likes of Merlin, and though the warlock knew his plan was an invasion of Arthur's privacy and that he could get into a large sum of trouble if he was caught, he also knew he had no other option and had to do it – for Arthur. For the Prince's protection and his protection only. He knew that he wouldn't dare such a task if the circumstances weren't so impossible.

The task being that he planned to find the spell he had been searching for – the one used to enter one's dreams, that is – and use it himself to enter the Prince's dreams and see with his own eyes what was truly going on inside his head.

Merlin just hoped the spell wasn't a difficult one – one that took days, weeks, months, or maybe even years to master. He didn't have years. He had a few mere hours, maybe two or three, to make sure that Arthur was deep enough into sleep for there to be dreams to view.

And he hadn't even found the spell yet.

Groaning, the warlock collapsed onto his bed, holding the book over his face a few inches away. He sighed as he flipped another useless page.

He had a couple of hours.

And he hadn't even found the damned spell.

Time passed slowly. Of course it did. Trawling through spell books purposefully was hardly a way to make time pass quickly, and it was really only this sense of purpose raging in Merlin's chest that kept him awake. But then, it was only really when he was just about falling asleep on himself when he spotted it.

His eyes scanned across the paper and he sighed in relief – the spell was simple enough, for someone of his level. He'd had enough practice that he knew he could probably perform it without a hitch, and, though he sometimes had difficulties with his pronunciation of the ancient language, he didn't see it as his biggest worry in the mission.

To Merlin, his greatest fears lay after the spell was cast. What would he find in Arthur's mind? Would Arthur realise that Merlin wasn't just a figment of his imagination? And in how bad of a state would the Arthur be in? That was what he feared the most. Was he being tortured? Was he in jail in a faraway kingdom run by evil sorcerers? Merlin dreaded to think what was poisoning the Prince's mind so deeply.

Merlin firstly checked that Gaius was asleep before he cast his spell, just so the physician couldn't suss out what he was doing and then tell him that he shouldn't. But his carer was sound asleep – where he usually dozed off; at his desk – and so Merlin got to work with psyching himself up for the spell. He reached inside himself, and his magic responded almost eagerly. It had been locked away for a good few hours; desperately suppressed during his fight with Arthur. Merlin knew that his magic was certainly, after being so ready to respond earlier, going to cooperate with his plan.

The warlock sat on his bed, cross-legged, and his hands in his lap. He read the spell in the book a few times until he had it memorised. He closed his eyes, urging his magic up further and further until it felt like a bubble of power within his chest. Now all it required was for Merlin to say the words.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin spoke;

"Ábeþecest þá swefn sylfum Arthur Pendragon." (Find the dreams of Arthur Pendragon.)

Merlin pictured the Prince in his mind, recalling that the spell needed every little detail of his subject he could deliver to make it as successful as possible. He remembered the colour of his hair, his eyes. His nose, his mouth, chin, cheeks. His height, his size – his stomach, which was most definitely not getting fat no matter how much Merlin joked that it was. The clothes he wore – armour, ceremonial robes, night-time clothing. His boots, which were far too tight, too tough to remove.

His personality – his rudeness, his sarcasm, his arrogance, confidence. The power he put into swinging a sword. His kindness and gentleness despite everything on the exterior. His potential, growing every day, to become the greatest King Camelot had ever known. His likes and dislikes. His idolising of his father, regardless of his numerous mistakes. His fondness, his love, for Gwen. His despair at losing Morgana, his anger at the woman for her betrayal, and, at times, his anger at himself, because at his weakest points he would consider just what had turned Morgana to the ways of evil and then berated himself for not doing something to help the girl he had considered a sister before he'd even known that she really was one.

He pictured the King that he knew Arthur would become; tough, brave, and headstrong, but wise and gentle, a good listener; a King who would value the opinions of others, as Arthur did as a Prince. He would be the Once and Future King, the King who would unite the land of Albion.

His magic was bubbling, almost cheering, for its target. It glowed around Merlin, a blue glow which sparkled, looking like a bubble of protection for the sorcerer.

Now smiling at the thought of his Prince, his Once and Future King, Merlin continued the spell.

"Scéawungmé þá swefn. Ásetemé æt se blædsylfum Arthur Pendragon." (Show me those dreams. Transport me to the mind of Arthur Pendragon.)

And then he opened his eyes again and they flashed a brilliant golden colour, and everything changed amongst him. His bedroom walls faded, like the whole castle was dissolving in front of him. It faded in, and out, like it couldn't really decide – like eyelids fluttering open and closed.

Then everything was gone. The surroundings were a blurry mix of grey and red - the Camelot red. He could hear muffled speech and see the rush of people charging past him, eagerly chatting about something that was happening, but as of now Merlin could not make it out.

But the blur was soon interrupted by a figure crashing into him. The figure mumbled something rudely about Merlin being drunk and Merlin was shocked at how detailed Arthur's dream was – as there was no doubt in Merlin's mind that this man's belief of Merlin being drunk was probably down to Gaius' countless claims of Merlin being in the tavern; Merlin resented these accusations, as whenever they were made, Arthur was particularly irritable after these days, and making many crude jokes about how he didn't think Merlin was the drinking type and that any mistakes he made were down to his drunk state and that he deserved extra work just for letting himself get so intoxicated.

Merlin found his eyes and ears adjusting. He was glad the blue bubble was no longer present as it was clear that he was somewhere very public. He blinked a couple of times, twisting his head from side to side. He was in the courtyard, he realised.

He caught faces. He caught sight Gaius, of the Knights – Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and Elyan, most recognisably. He saw Lancelot in the front of the crowd of Knights and his forehead creased with confusion when he saw Gwen cuddled against Lancelot's body, her chest rested on his shoulder. Merlin stepped forward, pushing himself towards the familiar faces, shoving past the crowds and muttering apologies that he was sure they couldn't hear.

It was only when he got close enough that he could see the anger and hatred and malice on his friend's normally kind and pleasant expressions. Even for a second, Gwen looked up, and she looked angry, terrified; like she had been crying. There was also that determination he was so used to seeing on Gwen; the determination that shone through, even in her darkest moments, where she would put on a brave face and never let her sadness and desperation devour her. Her strength was admirable, to both Merlin, and clearly Arthur, too.

And then Merlin heard them. The drums. The drums that certainly hadn't been there before – or perhaps he hadn't tuned into them before. But now they bellowed over the chatter of the people; deep, heavy. Merlin's eyes rested on the gallows and he realised this was an execution. Before he could begin to question whose it was, a figure came into view upon the gallows, and a pair of blue eyes well above the others caught onto his, desperate and, if it wasn't very rare occasions Merlin had witnessed before, unrecognisable.

His heart sank as he took in the figure that stood above the others; the people who looked up at him with true malice and disgust.

Arthur's eyes darted around at each malicious glare, before they rested, finally, on Merlin. The desperation did not go away; rather, it increased, fuelled with something new; maybe some kind of useless hope. Merlin watched, feeling helpless as his heart sank down to his boots. He swallowed, but his throat stayed dry as a desert. There was a thumping in his chest; a thumping he feared would never disappear.

He watched, unable to move, as guards led Arthur towards the rope. He couldn't break eye-contact with his Prince and he tried his hardest to give him the softest, kindest look he had probably received in the whole dream. He wanted to reassure the Prince; he wanted there to be some normality in this nightmare, whatever it was. He wasn't sure whether or not it was wise to intervene and he expected probably not, but that didn't stop him from staring longingly back at Arthur, not with fury or frustration like everybody else, but with care and kindness and, above all, an apology.

And that was when the Prince snapped. In a rage of anxiety and pain, he began yelling, uncharacteristically, hysterically.

No one could stop him.

A/N: Yay cliffhangers :P I realise you're probably all super confused right now, but don't worry, all will be explained next chapter! Make sure to review, and I will see you then! :)

~Amy x