Hi guys and sorry about the long wait! I kept meaning to update but life kept getting in the way. It tends to do that and honestly, it's rather annoying. So I'm really sorry and it shouldn't happen again if everything goes my way. So here is chapter 4 of Nightmares, and I just want to warn everyone that I've been a bit depressed these last few weeks and this chapter reflects that and I don't know if it's really what you are expecting.

To everyone who reviewed/favorite/followed: I really do appreciate it more than you know and it really helps me lift my spirits so thank you to all of you.

So I'll stop rambling and get on to what you really want to read.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, but I do own Mirabelle so score 1 for me and about 2,000 for Merlin, so yeah, not great odds I guess.

Nightmares

"He hasn't moved. At least, not that I've seen. I know he eats when Hunith brings him food, but other than that, he just sits there."

"What do you think is wrong?"

"Broken spirit I heard. Apparently he believes he has nothing to live for."

The two ladies continued walking after they passed Merlin's house, leaving their conversation to linger in the air for the young warlock to mull over.

It had been nearly two months since Merlin was banished from Arthur's side and those weeks had not been kind to the poor warlock. He had gone home to Ealdor after Arthur discovered his true self, not quite sure where else to go. His mother had greeted him and allowed him to come back and live with her.

Merlin didn't know why though. His mother should be ashamed. Ashamed of the sorry excuse she had for a son. She shouldn't welcome him back with open arms. She should close the door and force him to live on the streets, like the disgusting pig he was. It was what Merlin deserved.

He had thanked her of course, she was still his mother after all, but had then locked himself in his room and had preceded to not move for days.

Finally Hunith realized there must be something wrong with her son and used her spare key to enter Merlin's room. They had long since agreed that that key should only be used for drastic emergencies, however Hunith needed to know what was wrong with her son that instant and she wasn't getting any answers from his locked door.

When she got inside she found Merlin sitting with his back against the wall, staring off into space.

"Merlin?" she said tentatively.

Merlin brought his eyes up to meet hers, then suddenly burst into tears.

Hunith's eyes widened in surprise then grew wet with her own tears as she held her sobbing son in her arms, while he kept whimpering words such as "destiny" and "failure" and "hatred" and most of all, "Arthur". She began to stop listening to his words and just concentrated on soothing her sad son. She may not have done that had she realized that those were the last words she was going to hear Merlin say for a very long time.

Finally Merlin began to calm down a little and Hunith was able to fully look at the boy and what she saw in his eyes almost broke her heart.

He looked broken, lost, and devastated, miles away from that happy young man who had visited her awhile ago.

"What happened Merlin? What happened to make you become like this?" she asked. But Merlin didn't answer. And he never would.

After a long period of silence Hunith finally got up to get her son some water. As she returned, she realized he had not moved, so she took it upon herself to feed him and get him into bed. And that was how it went, for weeks on end, Hunith caring and talking to Merlin, and he being unresponsive to everything. She could only imagine what was going through that poor broken boys' mind.

XXX

Merlin, however, did not have to imagine. He had to live with it. His mind, day in and day out, screaming about what a horrible person he was, what a failure he was to lose his destiny.

Merlin saw it all flash before his eyes, everything he had ever heard, seen, or done, just gone in an instant, because he had failed. He, Merlin the horrible monster who deserved nothing more than to die, had failed his destiny. Arthur would never embrace magic now, and Albion is doomed, all because of Merlin.

Arthur should have killed him right then, should have tortured him until he begged for death. Because that's what Merlin was doing now, begging for death. Sitting in his room just waiting for death to carry him away in his arms and punish him in Hell. But his magic wouldn't allow that. His magic kept Merlin's life force going, even when he starved himself and dehydrated himself. In the end Merlin realized it was all for naught, so he ate and drank what he barely needed to survive.

Merlin knew why his magic did this to him. It was to punish him for failing destiny, making him live with his failure and his decisions that would haunt him the rest of his life.

Sometimes the warlock would wonder if he was ever really needed by Arthur or Camelot after all. Maybe it was all destined to crumble anyway. Destiny had most likely used him as a cruel pawn in its game of life and death, seeing how long Merlin could hold Camelot on his shoulders before it all came crashing down on him, breaking him under its heavy weight. It was just some sick game for the fates to play and Merlin had fallen for it.

Merlin hated himself.

And the Great Dragon made it even worse. It had started a few days after Merlin had returned to Ealdor. The Great Dragon's voice echoed in his head, over and over wondering why he wasn't at Camelot. Merlin never answered, just let the voice continuously repeat itself, reminding Merlin of his failure. Eventually it morphed into the Great Dragon yelling at him and ordering him to return home, return to his destiny. The Dragon had never helped him, never truly cared about him, and was always pulling Merlin back when he defied Destiny's wishes. And now he was trying again, screaming at Merlin whenever he got the chance. Merlin knew that as a Dragonlord he could command it to stop, but he never did. After all, it was only what he deserved.

Of course the villagers talked, wondering what Hunith's son was doing back and why they had never seen him. There were rumors, but the only people who could confirm them were Hunith, who would never say a bad word about her son, and Merlin, who most certainly was not going to say anything.

XXX

That was how those two ladies had come to speculating about Merlin's condition passing his bedroom window.

Merlin heard them and concluded that they were right. He had a pathetic, broken spirit and didn't have anything left to live for. Honestly, Hunith could probably get on without him. She had for all those years he was away at Camelot and he was nothing but a burden to her now.

Merlin was mulling over these thoughts when suddenly he heard horses approaching the town, fast. He didn't really pay much attention to them though, that is until he heard the yells. People of his village were in pain and scared. And for the first time in a very long while, Merlin felt that feeling that used to be a constant in his life for years. Selflessness.

Merlin needed to save those people.

It took a minute for the thought to fully register in his head after months of convincing himself of his uselessness. And when it did fully form, he almost dismissed it as a stupid thought. He couldn't save anybody. He couldn't even save himself. But something stopped him from dismissing it completely. Suddenly he realized what that was. His mother. His mother was one of the yelling voices. And she was calling his name.

For the first time in two months, Merlin sat up by himself and walked out of the door and into the light of the outside world.

The sight that greeted him was quite a surprise. There were about 20 men in black clothes and on black horses, all standing in a circle in the middle of the square. Some had villagers who tried to fight locked in their arms so they couldn't escape, but no one seemed to be dead or gravely injured. And none of the food supplies had been stolen or toppled. This intrigued Merlin, for this was not normal bandit behavior.

Another thing that was certainly not normal behavior was the fact that the bandits and the villagers all seemed to be focused on one thing.

Merlin.

What sort of bandits are these? Thought Merlin, although a few seconds later he got his answer.

The bandit who had his arm around Hunith's throat took off his hood and revealed his face.

Odin.

Odin smiled a bloodthirsty and unnerving smile. "Well if it isn't the man everyone's been talking about? Merlin, the great warlock himself."

Merlin didn't quite know what to say to that, so he just settled for looking at the man defiantly.

Odin kept talking. "I am here Merlin, to offer you a proposition. One that I think you'll be very pleased to hear about."

Odin released Merlin's mother and began walking closer to the young warlock. "I'm prepared to offer you half Camelot's land in return for your services as Chief Warlock in my conquest of Camelot."

"Why would I do that?" Merlin asked, his voice scratchy from months of disuse.

Odin laughed. "Why wouldn't you? You are the one man who bested Arthur Pendragon! You brought him to his knees! Honestly Merlin, you are somewhat of a legend in England. Everyone wants you on their side. Well, except Arthur I suppose." He then burst out laughing again at his own joke.

After a few seconds Odin became serious. "Merlin, I am ready to take down this king and this kingdom once and for all. I am amassing an army and I want you and me at the front of it. This is your chance to finally defeat Arthur. You set the stage for all of his enemies. You broke him and now he will stand no chance when we attack him. We are indebted to you Merlin, so I want you there with me at the battle."

Not only had he broken Arthur, he also became a valuable asset to his enemies. Just add that to the long list of things Merlin couldn't stand about himself right now.

However, no matter how low he got or how angry Arthur was at him, he would never stoop to the level of attacking Camelot. He would just continue to attack himself.

Merlin slowly shook his head and backed away from Odin.

"Merlin, you will not get a better offer than this, I assure you. Take it now." Odin said.

Yet Merlin continued to shake his head until finally the King was forced to get back on his horse. "Fine, but just remember the golden opportunity you missed. You will not get a second chance."

Odin and his men turned and galloped away, but not fast enough for Merlin to miss Odin's parting words. "No matter. Camelot will fall, with or without you."

Hunith ran to hug her son and congratulate him on being so brave when the villagers suddenly realized that they were not alone. Some of Odin's men had not left yet.

"What are you still doing here? He said no." said one of the villagers, a man named Lankin.

"You don't think Odin would let him off that easy, did you?" One of the men said. "Burn all their crops." He ordered his men. "That'll teach you not to disobey Odin."

The men set out to burn the crops, much to the dismay of the villagers, but they never made it.

Merlin threw up his hands and as his eyes became gold, the riders fell in front of their horses and were trampled underfoot.

"Merlin," Hunith said, approaching her son. But Merlin shook his head at her and ran away, into the forest.

After running for about 10 minutes, even though he was worn out his magic allowed him to run far, Merlin stopped by the edge of a stream, sat down, and put his head in his hands.

What had he been thinking, sitting there in his room for all those weeks! He had been so caught up in self-hatred that he never even stopped to consider an alternate possibility, one of Arthur maybe needing him even though he didn't know it. Merlin must warn Arthur of the impending attack of his enemies.

The Merlin's twisted sense of logic returned. Arthur doesn't need him, he could handle his enemies on his own. Couldn't he?

At that moment Merlin knew that the seed of doubt had been planted. That one small question would haunt him for the rest of his life, wondering if there was anything he could have done to stop the misfortune befalling Camelot should it come to that, and Merlin didn't think he could handle anymore guilt before he grabbed a knife and stabbed it in his heart, forcing his magic to stay back and let him finish the job.

Suddenly a sound to his left caught his attention.

Merlin jumped up and put his hand out defensively, thinking it was Odin's men coming back. But what finally came through the trees was a woman, a little older than Merlin himself.

Merlin found himself taken aback by her appearance. She was very beautiful, he could see that, but it was hard to tell considering how beat up she looked. There were cuts and bruises dotting her skin, and blood was matted in her hair. She was breathing heavily, as though she had just run a long distance.

She regarded Merlin with fear in her eyes until Merlin held out his hand and said, "I'm Merlin from Ealdor. Who are you?"

She stood still for a few seconds until finally reaching her hand out and grasping Merlin's with her own. "I'm Mirabelle. From Camelot."

"Camelot?!" Merlin exclaimed.

"Yes, it is where I am running from." She said those words looking over her shoulder, as if someone was behind her, waiting to strike.

"Why are you running from Camelot?"

"Don't you know?" said Mirabelle with fearful eyes.

"Know what?" Merlin said.

"I can't go back to Camelot! The fires, the blood, the drownings!" she was screaming and crying now, looking terrified for all she was worth.

"What? What does that mean?" Merlin asked, desperate for answers.

"The Purge. It's beginning again."

And Merlin took off, running as fast as he could. However he was different from Mirabelle, he was running towards the kingdom, his magic supplying him with all the energy needed for running that distance. He was going back to Camelot, destiny be damned.

What has Arthur done? Merlin kept thinking to himself. What have I done?

These thoughts accompanied him until he finally reached the place where the beautiful white stone towers came into view. However this time, they seemed more menacing than beautiful, because of the yells that could be heard resounding from inside the kingdom.

Camelot was screaming.

A/N: So what do you think? I hope I did well capturing Merlin's feelings. He believes he has failed his destiny and is therefore a failure at life, and he couldn't believe that Arthur would ever welcome him again. It drove him mad.

I promise the next one will have a bunch of Arthur in it. See you next time!