A/N: I don't own Merlin. That was the luck of the BBC.

Ok so I've now run out of pre-written chapters, which I was dreading because I've just rethought the second half of this fic and was worried I'd have no story and hundreds of people baying for my blood. Fast-forward to today, and I was in the shower (tmi?) when literally the entire plot hit me out of nowhere. So I'm thinking that there's at least 9 more chapters if everything goes to plan.

The only downside is I've had to take out one of the most emotional scenes I've ever written, which I'm gutted about, but I realised that it just wasn't where I wanted to take the story. I might post it as an outtake, or maybe work it into a one-shot, because I'm so miffed it's had to be scrapped.

"W-what?" Merlin's voice was surer of itself when he spoke, but there was still a trace of a slur in his words. His eyes scanned the room to try to understand what was happening.

"Don't worry mate, it'll be alright." Gwaine did his best to appease the panicky warlock from his restrained position.

Merlin's gaze was still darting around the room, but landed on a certain blonde figure, who was looking anywhere but at his servant and had been doing so ever since he entered the room.

"Arthur?" Merlin squinted, and then his eyes widen, memories of the fear in his monarch's eyes flooding back into his head. "I'm so sorry I-"

A hard thwack to his face silenced his apologetic ramblings.

"Shut up and listen to me. I'm going to explain this all very carefully for the benefit of your intelligence-challenged friends." Drin ignored the very vocal outcry from Gwaine at being insulted in such a way. "I am going to ask you one simple question one more time, and this time you are going to agree without hesitation, and do you know why? Otherwise, my men are going to take their very sharp swords and starting disfiguring your friends."

"Don't you dare!" Merlin growled, his voice still shaky as he attempted to resist the manacles but he was just too exhausted to fight. Still he tried, he wouldn't knowingly let anyone he cared about get hurt, no matter how they presently felt about him

He didn't know how the others had reacted to news, whether they'd banded with Arthur and branded him an evil monster, or if they'd forgiven his lies and saw him for who he really tried to be. Judging from Gwaine's protectiveness since he'd arrived, Merlin hoped that at least his friend had sided with him. The warlock had no idea just how much the shaggy knight had really fought in his corner.

"You need an example to go along with that explanation? That can be arranged. You," he pointed at Gwaine, "you seem to be awful chatty with Merlin here. You'll do."

Before anyone could raise their voices in protest, one of the few guards with a voice came barrelling through the door.

"I'm sorry sir, but…" The man was unable to finish, his body too concerned with drawing more and more oxygen into his lungs.

"What the hell is it you useless oaf? If you haven't noticed, I happen to be a little busy right now, so this better be worth my time." Drin glowered at the man, currently doubled over. How a man built like an ox could be winded by a few staircases, Drin would never know.

"There's a convoy outside, they say they're looking for you." He breathed out, bowing his head slightly.

"A convoy?" Drin eyebrows raised as his eyes squinted, peering curiously at the guard.

"Yes sir. They appear to be from Cenred's lands." He nodded, recalling the insignia they bore on their robes and weaponry.

"Damn those blasted idiots! If they're back already this can't be good news." Drin's hand flew to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he attempted to regain some composure. "Are all the prisoners secure?"

"Yes sir, I made sure of before they were brought up." The guard smiled proudly, looking immensely pleased with himself, despite the fact that that he was only doing the one job Drin kept him around for.

"Very well, show me to them." Drin grumbled, motioning for the guard to turn back around. He glanced briefly over his shoulder. "I'll be back for you lot in a moment."

As soon as he'd left the room, Gwaine took the opportunity to scan his eyes over Merlin, mentally cataloguing his injuries, so as to know where to inflict them on Drin once he finally got a hold of him.

"How are you mate? Really?" His voice was low and his eyes held flickers of worry.

"I've been worse. The hospitality's a bit naff, I wouldn't recommend we stay here again." Merlin croaked, a half-smile ghosting over his lips.

"We're going to get you out of here." Gwaine returned the small smile, making sure his voice conveyed every word as a promise.

"I've told you, we're not." Arthur shot back, keeping his glare fixed on Gwaine, still unable to even look at his servant. The sudden outburst from the king seemed to hurt Merlin more than Drin's knife had, his heart clenched as jolts of fear stabbed through him.

"Arthur, please-" Merlin was tired. So tired. He just wanted to go home, to see Gaius and Gwen. He wanted to do his chores. Oh how he'd missed simple tasks like polishing and cleaning. Arthur needed to listen to him, to understand.

But Arthur's anger and hurt had been building up to a point where it could no longer be contained, and he couldn't stop it from being unleashed onto Merlin.

"No. You know what Merlin? I don't want to hear your half-baked excuse for why you would be such an idiot as to practice magic when you knew it was forbidden and how it corrupts people. I don't want to hear you swear that you're not evil, or planning to overthrow Camelot, or how you've been wrongly persecuted because I know-"

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice was suddenly angry. Angier than Arthur had ever heard the manservant before. Merlin didn't get angry. Not like this. He got whiny, or pissed off, or grumpy, but never the full on rage he was now hearing in Merlin's voice. "Look at me!" It was a command, not a suggestion, and finally Arthur did.

His jaw tightened and his breath hitched at the sight of his manservant. The king didn't understand his reaction, he already knew the boy had been hurt and his betrayal was still all too recent, but his heart clenched in fear when he saw Merlin. Merlin, who had secretly given Arthur the strength he needed to be king, looked broken, and Arthur couldn't help him. Arthur didn't know if he wanted to help him anymore.

"If I'm really the traitor to Camelot that you believe me to be, why do I look like this? Why do I hurt so much?" His voice was quiet and broken, like he'd only just realised what had happened. His head dropped low, his body began to tremble more violently and his legs seemed to give up supporting him and he almost dangled from the manacles biting into the raw flesh he once called his wrists. "All this… is for Camelot. For you." Despite the softness of his voice, there was still an undertone of strength running through it. "Please don't leave me here."

Just a quick thank you to those who review, follow, favourite and read. You guys really keep me going.