Chapter Five

"Good morning, Merlin."

He gasped for breath, blinking wildly to clear his vision after a jolt of agony to the base of his skull had caused his surroundings to vanish in a blinding flash of white.

Morgana stood before him, a smile playing on her lips.

"I hope you slept well," she said sweetly. "You have a long day ahead of you."

Merlin was struggling to keep track of time. He felt as though he had been her captive for an eternity. Even as he tried to face her with defiance, his limbs trembled with exhaustion and his mind felt weighed down by a heavy fog. He thought that by the time unconsciousness had come the morning light had already begun to seep through the window and it had not risen far since then; he could only have been asleep for a couple of hours.

It was more than she had allowed him on previous nights.

Merlin tried to force words through lips that were cracked and dry. "When… are you going to… end this?"

The pleasant mask dropped away; she glared daggers at him and slapped him full across the face. "You have not even begun to suffer what I have suffered!"

The sting blossomed across his cheek and he felt fresh blood dribble from his split lip, but that was a lover's gentle caress compared to the pain her magic was capable of inflicting. He tried to brace himself.

"Forþrysman!" she snapped.

An invisible hand closed around Merlin's throat and began to squeeze. He attempted to choke air down into his lungs but it was impossible to breathe. He writhed helplessly, trying to dislodge the assailant. Spots danced in his vision. His chest heaved, desperately, futilely.

"Ádloma!" Morgana added.

Fire erupted in his veins. Unable to scream, his eyes rolled madly, arms twisting and jerking against chains that would not yield.

"When you poisoned me, Merlin, this is what it felt like. I couldn't breathe. Pain spread to every inch of my body. But your betrayal! It seared my heart. You poisoned me and then cradled my body in a perversion of comfort as I lay dying."

Darkness was creeping in from the edges of his mind; blissful unconsciousness trying to pull him into the depths, but Morgana wouldn't let him.

"Líhting."

The band of constricting pressure around his throat abruptly lifted and he heaved in a huge, desperate breath, only to begin coughing violently.

"I thought you were my friend," Morgana said in a wounded tone.

Merlin glared up at her. He had once thought the same, and it had nearly killed him when he had been forced to poison her in order to save Arthur and the whole of Camelot. But none of it would have happened if Morgana had not gone to Morgause. "You… betrayed… us first…"

"No, you're wrong! It was you. I came to you when my magic first awoke within me, desperate for someone to believe me, to understand, to help. I needed a friend, and it turns out that you understood what was happening to me better than anyone else ever could. But you stayed silent. You knew what I had to be feeling, you knew how alone and afraid I was. You could have offered me hope, reassurance, guidance. You could have let me know that I was not the only one. But you said nothing!"

A blast of emotional, unrestrained magic slammed into his chest, blasting him backwards until the chains yanked him to a jarring halt and swung him back into place.

Morgana's eyes shone with furious tears.

Guilt weighed heavily within him. Her words were true. He often wondered what would have happened if he had reached out to her then. He could have shown her that magic was not a curse, that it could be used for good. He could have let her share in his hope for a future where magic was no longer outlawed. He could have helped her keep her secret, and been the support she needed when times were hard. Instead, she had been forced to turn to her sister, and Morgause had corrupted her. Now the good, beautiful woman who had fought at Merlin's side to defend his little home town, who had spoken up so passionately for the rights of the people, who had been a friend to Gwen and like a sister to Arthur… now she was their enemy, filled with bitterness and hatred.

Merlin couldn't help but feel that he was partially to blame.

"I'm sorry, Morgana," he croaked out hoarsely.

But he had been afraid, too. He had never told anyone his secret – those who knew had only found out by accident – and starting with Uther's ward did not seem a wise idea. Besides, ultimately Morgana's choices were her own. He could not be held responsible for her decision to plot against the crown and to kill hundreds of innocent people in her quest for power.

He pitied her, certainly, and he was sorry for the way things had turned out between them. The Morgana he had known was gone now, though, and all that remained was a threat to Arthur and to Albion. If Merlin ever got the chance to stop her, he would.

"Now you're sorry," Morgana sneered. "Now that I have you at my mercy. I can assure you, though, that I will show you none. Your insincere words are meaningless to me. But I will have you sobbing your apologies long before I am through with you. Pínnes hrycg!"

His back arched as pain shot down his spine, but he clenched his teeth, determined not to scream. He didn't want to give Morgana the satisfaction.

Morgana smirked at his efforts. A flash of gold appeared in her eyes, magnifying the spell ten-fold.

He held it in as long as he could, until his body was shuddering and his teeth felt like they would shatter. The desperate need for release built up within him and he could bear it no longer; a ragged cry tore from his lips.

After an age had passed the pain lessened enough for Merlin to regain the use of his senses. Morgana wanted him to hear her cruel laughter.

"So weak," she taunted. "The mighty Emrys. To think I actually feared you, believing that you could somehow bring about my doom. But you really are nothing but a useless servant."

I'm not useless, Merlin thought. Arthur said that I was brave, and loyal, and not at all cowardly. Arthur himself had once admitted that he was afraid of pain. Merlin had nothing to be ashamed of and he cared not what Morgana thought of him.

"You do not deny it," she sneered. "How pathetic you are."

Merlin levelled a dispassionate stare at her. "I don't have to deny it. We both know the truth. In a fair fight you are no match for me."

"I nearly bested you once!"

Merlin snorted. "When I had the strength and reflexes of an 80-year-old man. Admit it, Morgana, you're still afraid of me."

And she was; Merlin could see it in her eyes. She had hated Uther, she was jealous of Gwen and she craved Arthur's throne, but when it came to Merlin, or Emrys as she had known him, she wanted him dead because she feared his power. The thought might have given him comfort if his magic wasn't shackled and if he didn't know that Morgana had no intention of letting him go. As it was, he had no doubt that when she grew bored of playing with him she would kill him. He would have no chance to use his magic so his words might as well have been empty bravado. But at the moment words were all he had.

Morgana leaned in close. "When you lie dead at my feet and all of Camelot bows before me, we shall see who was more powerful," she hissed. "But do not think that you can provoke me into granting you a quick death. As vengeance for my beloved sister, yours will be slow and painful. "

"Oh good," Merlin replied cheerfully. "I'll have plenty of time to think of a way to defeat you, then."

"You will not defeat me!" Morgana shrieked indignantly. "You cannot win, Merlin. You will not win!"

He offered a smile filled with confidence he didn't feel. "We'll see."

He couldn't see a way out of this, though. He was going to die here and it was going to hurt.

"Forebrædan scaðan!"

ooOOoo

Gwaine burst through the doors of the council chamber. "Arthur!"

Painfully aware of the outraged expressions worn by the majority of his councillors, Arthur stood slowly and tried to radiate regal displeasure. "Sir Gwaine, you would do well to remember your station. Court proceedings are not to be interrupted except in the case of an emergency."

Gwaine glanced around the room, picking up on the vibes, and he schooled his expression to one more apologetic. "I apologise, sire." He even added a small bow of his head, which was out of character and had to mean that what he had to say was important enough that he did not want to risk being thrown out before he could say it.

Arthur made him wait a few moments in an attempt to appease the councillors, but Gwaine had been gone for three days and Arthur wanted to know what he had found out. "What is it?"

"Merlin is not in Ealdor, sire."

Arthur's heart sank. No. This couldn't be happening; not again.

"We found the site where Merlin made camp on his first night out from Camelot," Gwaine reported. "His bedroll, his horse's saddle, his bags and the sacks of grain you sent with him were all still there. There was no sign of a struggle, but tracks leading from his bedroll suggest he was dragged unconscious into the forest."

"By whom?"

"The footprints we found belonged to a woman. And… all traces of their passage vanished completely after a few paces. The tracks were not covered, they were simply gone. It was not natural."

Whoever had taken Merlin had magic, then. It made sense; Arthur had only thought about attacks by bandits or beasts, and had not worried because Merlin was capable of handling those. But Arthur did not know how Merlin's magic stacked up against others, and if he had been sleeping it was possible he never even had the chance to defend himself. The footprints were from a woman, which led Arthur to only one logical conclusion.

"Morgana."

"I believe so, sire."

"Morgana has Merlin." Saying it out loud somehow made it even worse. It was unlikely that Merlin was dead; if she wanted to kill him she could have done it while he slept, and that thought was frightening enough. But she had taken him instead, and Arthur dreaded to think what that could mean for Merlin. "Do we have any idea where she could be keeping him?"

"The tracks exited to the east of the clearing. Beyond that… none."

They could be anywhere. "Send out patrols-"

"Your Majesty!" Lord Baldor protested. "Surely you do not intend to waste precious resources on a hunt for a missing servant."

Not this argument again. "Merlin is no mere servant."

"Fine, then – a missing sorcerer. I say good riddance!"

Arthur glared. "You border on insubordination, Lord Baldor."

"And you, sire, show no propriety. You are the king of Camelot. You should not be concerned with such petty matters. A servant getting lost in the woods is of no interest to the court and does not warrant the valuable time of numerous soldiers and knights of the realm!"

"Merlin is not lost; he has been taken by an enemy of Camelot!"

"So he has led you to believe. Isn't it more likely, sire, that he has joined forces with the Lady Morgana and is plotting to overthrow you even as we speak?"

"Merlin has proven his loyalty more times than I can count, and certainly more than you have, Lord Baldor. When was the last time you risked your life to defend this city?"

"This Merlin is dangerous, sire. He has magic."

"And he has proven that not all magic is evil."

"You have allowed him to get too close to you, sire. Can you not see how he is corrupting your thoughts, influencing your decisions? Perhaps his absence should be considered a blessing; it will give you a chance to clear your head. And if he does not return, then this debate over magic can be laid to rest. Everything can go back to the way it was."

Arthur had not realised how deep these prejudices ran. "Listen to me very carefully. I will not abandon my manservant – nay, my friend – to die at Morgana's hand. Each of us in this room – in this city – owe him our lives many times over; I alone have been saved by his magic a hundred times or more. Even if I were to disregard my personal relationship with him, I would be putting this kingdom at risk if I did not see to it that our most powerful protector remained alive and healthy to defend us."

Lord Baldor shrugged. "If the Lady Morgana is able to kill him, it would seem he would have been of little help to us anyway."

"How dare you speak of Merlin's death in such a callous manner! He is a hero who deserves respect!"

Up until this point Gwaine had held his tongue, but now he stepped forward, eyes narrowed at Baldor. "Perhaps Lord Baldor wishes to see Merlin dead, sire. Perhaps he even helped to arrange it."

The councillor spluttered indignantly. "That is an outrageous accusation!"

"How else could Morgana have known where Merlin was? And why would she have chosen to go after him now, if she did not know of his importance? Someone in this court has betrayed him. And in doing so, they have betrayed us all."

Arthur felt cold. They never had identified the traitor in their midst. Suspicion had been diverted onto Gaius and when his name was cleared the matter had fallen to the wayside. But Gwaine was right. For Morgana to have found Merlin and successfully taken him captive, someone must have told her his location and revealed that he had magic. Otherwise Merlin would have escaped by now.

"We will get to the bottom of this," Arthur said. His voice was very quiet, but the deadly threat in his words could be heard loud and clear. Camelot had been left vulnerable to this traitor for far too long. "In the meantime, Sir Gwaine, send out those patrols immediately. I want Merlin found."

"Yes, sire."

"And have someone inform Gaius," Arthur added.

"I'll see to it right away." Gwaine bowed slightly. "Don't worry sire. We'll have Merlin back safe and sound before you know it."

I hope so.

ooOOoo

Breaking the news to Gaius was not easy.

Gwaine remembered how distressed Merlin had been when his guardian was kidnapped, and now that their roles had been reversed it was clear that the emotions Gaius felt for his ward ran equally deep. Of course, the physician tried to hide it by complaining that Merlin was always getting himself into trouble, but Gwaine could tell he was worried.

"We'll find him," Gwaine promised. "I won't rest until he is back home safely."

"I appreciate that. But you must be careful. Morgana is dangerous."

Gwaine nodded seriously, knowing the truth of his words. Magic was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and Morgana was merciless. He was lucky that he had not had to face her directly during the fight to reclaim Camelot from her immortal army, because it was likely he would not have survived the experience. No one had gone up against her, as far as he knew… And yet somehow she had been defeated.

Merlin, Gwaine realised. Of course – he and Lancelot never did take out the warning bell. They must have gone after the cup, and they had succeeded. How powerful was Merlin anyway?

"Gaius? Is Morgana's magic stronger than Merlin's?"

Gaius pondered the question, eyebrows drawn close together. "It is hard to say. I do not believe so, but she has been able to devote far more time to studying and practicing magic than Merlin has. She learned from a priestess of the Old Religion; Merlin has had to teach himself. And Morgana has no qualms about using the darkest of the magical arts to get what she wants."

"So Merlin's in trouble," Gwaine surmised. "But we don't even know where to begin looking for him."

"Morgana is living in a hovel somewhere in the forest," Gaius revealed. "It is within a day's ride of here, I believe."

Gwaine raised his eyebrows. "You know where she is?"

Gaius sighed heavily. "Unfortunately no. Merlin does, but I never thought to ask him the exact location." Noting Gwaine's surprise, Gaius explained, "Morgana has captured him once before. It's a long story, but she cast a spell on him and he had to go back to break it at the source."

"So if Merlin was here he could tell us exactly what we need to know to save him."

"I'm afraid so."

Gwaine blew out a breath. "Well, at least we know what we're looking for now. I'm sure we'll find him in no time."

Gaius nodded, though it seemed more a gesture of wanting to believe rather than true confidence. Gwaine understood; he felt the same. But he had meant what he said – he was not going to give up until he rescued his friend, not the least because he knew Merlin would do the same for him.

I'm coming, buddy, he promised silently. Hold on.

ooOOoo