A/N: I forgot to post this yesterday because I left for a road trip and didn't think to post before I left. But if it makes you feel any better, I also forgot to pack pajamas, so…

Also, a lot of this chapter is the same as the last but from Gwaine's POV.

Gwaine rode his borrowed horse into the courtyard of the strange castle. He would return it. Eventually.

The castle stretched long and grey into the cloudy sky. Rumor had it Merlin and Arthur, long missing, were somewhere in this castle.

The guards had gladly let him in when they saw his ragged appearance. For once, being a mess worked in his favor.

He swung off the horse. Arthur and Merlin were unlikely to be within sight, but he checked anyway. Hunched over filthy servants trudged through the courtyard. No sign of his friends.

"Slave! Come take care of this fine gentleman's horse!" one guard called.

A filthy man with bloodstained clothes so ragged they were ready to fall off limped over and grabbed the horse's reins. His head hung so much Gwaine couldn't see his face, hidden by his long dirt-encrusted hair.

Gwaine's heart squeezed. He'd seen a lot of misery on his wanderings, but this slave took the cake.

The slave tugged the horse away from Gwaine's grasp.

"Mate, I've still got—my stuff's still on the horse." Gwain had learned from experience that letting servants carry your bags away usually ended in stolen bags. He had just acquired stuff, like changes of clothes and a whole bag of apples. He didn't want to lose his stuff just yet.

The slave mumbled something, but the only words Gwaine caught were "carry" and "master."

Gwaine winced at the title. "You don't need to do that, mate, it's my stuff, I'd rather handle it myself."

The slave just pulled the horse to the stable. Gwaine followed him. If only the slave would hold the horse still long enough, Gwaine could unstrap the bags.

The slave pulled the horse into a stall. "I can get it, master."

"No, no, it's not—" Gwaine started. He didn't want to shove the slave around, but if he had to…

Unheeding, the slave unstrapped one of the bags.

"Give me my bag!" Gwaine jerked the bag away from the slave.

The slave cringed back. Gwaine's shoulders dropped. The man was waiting for a blow. Gwaine worked himself up for an apology—sincere apologies weren't exactly his forte—but the slave glanced up.

"Gwaine?"

Gwaine's stomach dropped. That face was too familiar. "Arthur?"

Arthur's cheeks and eyes were hollow. A bruise purpled his left eye. He trembled with minute shakes. He stank of pigs, horse manure, sweat, and human waste. Most telling of all, he had called Gwaine master, showing acceptance of his new status. The prideful prince Gwaine had saved would never have willingly called someone master.

Then again, Arthur's current appearance spoke volumes about how unwilling he was to be in this situation.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to see you." Arthur leaned against the stall wall.

"You look terrible, mate," Gwaine said.

Arthur just nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you and Merlin," Gwaine said. "Everyone's talking about your capture and the failed ransom. Saving your life has become a bit of a hobby of mine, so I figured I'd drop by and see what I could do."

"Hurry up, slave!" the guard from before barked.

Arthur flinched. "I have to go," he whispered. "You can request I serve you during your stay so we can plan our escape."

Gwaine nodded. "Is Merlin as bad off as you?"

Arthur shook his head. "They hate nobility. They just put Merlin in the dungeons because he didn't want to put up with them abusing me."

Hated nobility. Hopefully they'd never find out Gwaine was the son of a knight. "That's good, at least."

Arthur limped off. That limp would make escape difficult, but now that Gwaine had seen Arthur's state, he wouldn't rest until he'd rescued the enslaved prince.


"Is there another way out of the castle other than the front gate?" Gwaine dug into the lavish luncheon Arthur had brought him.

Arthur had consumed two entire plates without breathing in the peace of Gwaine's guest chambers and now leaned back in his chair. "There's a back gate they bring supplies through that isn't well-attended. I rarely see it open though."

Gwaine stroked his chin. "We could watch for a period of low activity, and sneak out one of the gates, but Merlin being in the dungeons hinders that."

"Leave that to me," Arthur said. "I can get him out. We'll have to escape in the day, though. They lock me up at night."

"We'll probably have to fight our way out," Gwaine said. "So we'll need horses to outrun them. I can handle that. You get Merlin out of the dungeons, then I can keep you nearby until we have a window."

"Sounds like a plan," Arthur said.