Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthur wished he had never had to step foot in the dim, crowded, hot den. The air was thick with the stench of waste, mingled with the sweat of the captive souls packed within its suffocating walls. Torches flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows that danced across the faces of everyone present. 

It had been a year of tirelessly searching the Kingdom before Percival and Gwaine got word of a slave ring in a remote corner far from the citadel. Arthur had wasted little time rounding up the other knights to go investigate, hoping within himself that Merlin hadn’t been taken and reduced to a hollow-eyed slave. His heart felt like it was going to burst at the mere idea of Merlin being present in the hellish environment. 

Traders, buyers, and sellers all mingled together, pushing through the crowded aisles between cages that held the slaves. 

The cages were filthy and crowded, holding far too many people, all of who wore the same hollowed, despair-filled expressions. 

If Arthur were able to, he would liberate every poor soul locked in the cages, and get them to safety. 

As it was, he only had enough gold to purchase the freedom of one man. 

“See something you like?”

Arthur jumped at the wheezy voice that suddenly filled his ear, and turned to see one of the slavers standing at his shoulder. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Not yet.”

“You have something in mind that you’re looking for?”

“I guess you could say that I have an image in my head of a particular...slave.”

“Ah, I see. You’re one of those, are ya? Tell me what you have in mind?”

“Uh...well, male, tall, lanky but still fit, raven hair, distinct cheekbones.”

The slaver thought for a moment. “You know, I think we have that in stock. Come with me.” He turned and led the way, pushing a path through the crowds of people. “Why so specific?”

“No reason,” Arthur replied casually. 

“There’s always a reason for such specifications.”

“I had a servant once, that looked like those, and after he left I realized that no other look would do.”

The man chuckled and cast a look over his shoulder at Arthur. “I see.”

Arthur wanted to throw up at the implications in the man’s gaze. 

“Here we are.” The man stopped short at a cage that held only one man kneeling with his head bowed. “Looks like you’ll have to bid for him. Others have expressed interest.”

Arthur’s heart ached at the haggard look of the man. 

There was no denying his identity. Arthur would know it anywhere. 

He was smaller, thinner, and paler than he’d last seen him, but it was him. 

“When...uh...when will the auctioning for him begin?”

“An hour, or so. We’re going to let a few others get a look at him before we start the bidding.”

“Why do we have to bid for him?”

“He’s one that has been trained in all aspects of servitude. See the marks here?” He pointed to the markings on the cage. “The slaves over there are only trained in one or two aspects - labor, pleasure, battle, et cetera. But this one here?” He reached his hand through the bars of the cage and forced Merlin’s head up. “We spent a good year getting him ready for anything his future masters could desire.”

Merlin stared at Arthur and the slaver with eyes full of guarded fear. The once bright and spirited young man was now a shadow of himself, broken and weary. Arthur's chest tightened at the sight. 

And then there was the matter of the thick, black, metal collar around his throat. 

Arthur’s throat tightened. “I see. What’s the purpose of the collar?”

The slaver grinned wickedly. "It’ll bind him to whoever purchases him, and force compliance.”

Arthur’s blood turned cold. “I see.”

“We had it put on him when we realized what he is.”

“What he is?” Arthur asked. 

“A sorcerer.”

Arthur stared at him, not quite sure he had heard him correctly. “A sorcerer?”

“That’s right. A powerful one too.”

The ground slipped out from underneath Arthur. There was no way that Merlin, bumbling, clumsy Merlin was a sorcerer. It was impossible. 

“Anything else?”

Arthur forced himself back to the present, filing the shattering information to the back of his mind. “When you say bind, what exactly do you mean?”

“It, itself, is made of magic, and when it is bound to the master, the slave will be forced to comply with any and all orders. Any resistance causes him to be in indescribable pain. It also removes his ability to eat, sleep and talk until his master wills it.”

Horror, mixed with nausea was all but consuming him. How could one person subject another human being to such torture? Especially Merlin. Of all the people in the world, loyal, kind, goofy Merlin deserved this kind of treatment the least.

“Is there any way to remove it?”

“I can’t imagine why you’d want to.”

Arthur forced himself to shrug. “I am just asking.”

“No. The only one who can remove it is the one who put it on, and they’re long gone.”

Any hope that Arthur harbored was immediately crushed. “I see,” he managed to get out. 

The slaver released Merlin’s head, which immediately returned to a bow. “Put a coin on the cage, and you’ll be admitted to the bidding ring.”

Arthur nodded and pulled a coin from the pouch at his waist, setting it carefully on the top of the cage next to several other coins - each signifying a person who wanted to purchase Merlin and (more than likely) continue his torment. 

“Take a walk,” the slaver said. “Peruse the merchandise. Perhaps something else will catch your eye.”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Arthur said. “I know what I want, and I intend to have it.”

The slaver shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

Arthur watched him walk away, before bending down to look through the bars properly. “Hey,” he whispered. 

Merlin flinched slightly and lowered his head further. 

There wasn’t much for Arthur to say or do in the moment, so he straightened and took a small step back, positioning himself close enough to the cage to keep Merlin in sight. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. 

An hour passed, during which several others stepped forward to get a close examination of Merlin, with the help of slavers. Some put a coin on the cage, and others didn’t. 

“Alright, time to take this one to the ring,” a slaver said. 

Arthur, despite wanting to step forward and snatch Merlin when the door opened, took a step back. He needed to keep a low profile if he had any hopes of his plan working. 

The man attached a chain to the collar around Merlin’s neck and gave a tug. “Come on.”

Merlin immediately obeyed, crawling through the open door of the cage and following the man as he lead him through a hidden doorway into a small ring-shaped arena. 

An announcement was made for everyone interested in him to follow. 

Arthur took a calming breath, attempting to calm the anxious pounding of his heart, and walked through the doorway. He had to be strong in his resolve. He’d come too far to risk losing Merlin again. 

The tension in the ring was thick and suffocating. 

Merlin was forced to kneel in the center of the room, well within the site of all those interested in him. 

“This one had fight when he was brought in,” the auctioneer said. “But we eventually beat it out of him. He’s a hard worker and quick to obey all orders given to him. The collar you see on him reinforces your will and binds his magic. That’s right, he’s a magic user. But no need to worry, he is unable to use the magic unless you will it.”

“Give us a demonstration,” a man from the crowd shouted. 

The auctioneer shrugged and stepped in front of Merlin. “Use your magic against me.”

Arthur found himself holding his breath as he watched. 

Merlin lifted his head and stared at the auctioneer in fear. His mouth moved, forming a soundless word, and his eyes flashed gold. 

Shock washed over Arthur, lasting only a few seconds before horror took over as Merlin doubled over and began to convulse in pain. 

“Satisfied?”

“Take off the tunic!” Another voice yelled. “Let us have a look at the goods.”

Arthur was half tempted to cut down every single person in the room. 

“On your feet,” the auctioneer ordered sharply. 

Merlin immediately got to his feet, tremors of pain still running through his body. 

“Take it off.”

Arthur curled his hands into fists and squeezed tightly, as he watched Merlin pull the tattered tunic over his head and drop it to the ground. 

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as a myriad of injuries were suddenly revealed, covering his entire torso, abdomen, and back. If it wasn’t blood that covered him, it was dirt. There wasn’t an inch of unmarked skin. 

“Circle.”

Merlin turned himself in a circle, allowing everyone in the room to observe him. 

Arthur closed his eyes, unable to look at the state of his friend. 

“Anything else?”

“How’s his mouth?”

“To die for.”

A wave of chuckles and dark murmuring shifted throughout the room. 

Arthur nearly threw up right then and there. The nausea was only abated by the pure rage that burned through him, fueling his determination to get Merlin as far from this hellhole as he could. 

“Let’s start the bidding at 50 gold coins. Do I have 50?”

Arthur watched and waited as the bidding jumped in numbers, his attention jumping to a rival bidder who was eyeing Merlin with a predatory hunger. 

There was no way in hell, that he was letting Merlin go with that man. 

“500 gold coins,” he called, jumping the number by nearly a hundred. 

A tense silence fell over the room, as everyone turned their gaze to Arthur. 

“550. Do I have 550?”

“600,” the rival called. 

“800,” Arthur countered. 

The air in the room thickened as everyone else watched the two in anticipation. 

“900.”

“2000.”

A collective gasp echoed through the room. The auctioneer’s eyes widened, and he stared at Arthur for a long moment, before turning to face the rival. 

Time seemed to stand still for a brief moment as the man considered his options.

Arthur held his breath. 

The man finally lowered his gaze in defeat. “You win,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. 

Relief flooded throughout Arthur as the Auctioneer announced his success. He had done it. He had located Merlin and was bringing him home. 

“Come forward,” the auctioneer beckoned. 

Arthur pushed through the crowd until he reached the center of the room. 

“Down.”

Merlin obeyed and folded himself on his knees, bowing his head and waiting. 

The auctioneer turned to Arthur and held his hand out. “Payment.”

Arthur pulled out four pouches of divided gold and passed them over

The man accepted them and tossed them in an open chest. “I’m going to need a drop of blood.”

“What for?”

“To bind the collar to you.”

The idea was repulsive, but Arthur had little choice but to pull a knife out and prick his finger with the end of it, drawing a drop of blood. 

The Auctioneer grabbed his wrist and brought his hand down to press the bleeding finger to the metal of the collar. 

Merlin hissed in pain and convulsed, as the collar suddenly glowed a bright red. 

“And done.” 

Arthur immediately pulled his hand away, as Merlin slumped to the ground and curled slightly around himself.  

He was trembling and breathing raggedly. 

Guilt tore at Arthur’s stomach. 

“He’s all yours,” the auctioneer said. “I’m mildly curious why you would pay such a high price for him.”

“My reasons are my own.”

“Hmm.” The auctioneer grabbed a set of shackles and locked them around Merlin’s wrists and ankles. “I must say that I am going to miss him, especially his mouth. I put a lot of my own time into molding him into the perfect slave.” The man attached the chain to Merlin’s collar and held the other end out to Arthur. “Enjoy him.”

“I intend to,” Arthur heard himself say.

The auctioneer smirked and ran his hand through Merlin’s hair, before leaving the room. 

Arthur felt a weight lift from his shoulders and chest. “Okay.” He lowered his gaze to Merlin, who hadn’t moved from his bowed position. “Come, we have a bit of a ride to the camp where the knights are waiting.”

Merlin immediately lifted his head and moved to his hands and knees, ready to crawl wherever Arthur led him. 

“Can you walk?”

Merlin tilted his head slightly and stared at Arthur in confusion. 

Arthur suddenly became aware of the darkness and depth that he was in. His hopes of finding Merlin and immediately going back to how things had been, were fading quickly. 

“I need you to walk,” he ordered softly. 

The order worked and Merlin immediately got to his feet. His head remained bowed, and he seemed to be attempting to make himself as small as possible. 

Arthur longed to remove the chain and shackles, but he couldn’t risk dropping pretenses until they were in the safety of the forest. “Let’s go.” 

Merlin followed two paces behind him as they passed through the den and out into the open air. 

Arthur inhaled deeply, relishing the fresh air. “Thank the Gods.” He turned to glance at Merlin, who seemed to be breathing deeply as well. 

How long had it been since he’d been outside?

Arthur pushed away the guilt and pain and kept walking, ensuring that there was plenty of slack in the chain. 

He couldn’t focus on all the things that were wrong with the situation, and all the mountains he was now facing. 

All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and get Merlin to the safety of the camp. 

Chapter Text

Arthur felt dirty. 

There was no other word to describe the feeling of his skin crawling. He could hardly believe that he had actually entered the slave traders den and walked out after purchasing Merlin. 

He had never been naive to not think that slave trade was an actual occurrence that took place in the world. The practice of slavery was strictly outlawed in Camelot, but that didn’t stop slave traders from existing and practicing their trade. 

It disgusted him beyond no end, especially now that Merlin had been dragged into the ring and tortured into compliance. 

Merlin was unnervingly silent - unnaturally silent. 

In all the years that they had traveled together, Arthur could always count on Merlin to fill the silence with endless rambling and babbling. He had come to rely on the banter that the two of them often shared - even look forward to it. 

But now, as the two rode into the forest, there was only silence. 

Every moment he had told Merlin to shut up, suddenly forced themselves to the front of Arthur’s mind and twisted his gut with even more guilt. 

“We’re almost there,” he found himself saying. 

Merlin had no response. 

He was sitting tensely in front of Arthur, with his head bowed and shoulders hunched over. 

“We’ll probably rest for a bit at the camp before starting back to Camelot. It’ll take us a couple of days to reach the city and citadel. From there Gaius will see to healing your injuries and getting you fixed up. It won’t be long until...” Arthur failed to think of how to finish the sentence. There would be no returning to normal for them. If it wasn’t the trauma that was more than evident, then it was the fact that Merlin had magic. He was a sorcerer - one that had planted himself in the very heart of Camelot. 

He’d been taught his entire life that magic was evil, and that those who chose to use were corrupt, filled only with the desire to destroy Albion. Merlin didn’t fit into that category. Arthur knew he didn’t. There wasn’t a corrupt bone in his body. 

And yet...

Merlin had lied to him. 

He’d hidden his true self from Arthur, and more than likely told hundreds of lies. Every interaction the two of them shared began to flash through Arthur’s mind, and he suddenly began to notice moments when Merlin had clearly used magic right under his nose. 

Anger began to brew within him, as his mind grappled with the fact that the foundation that had been their friendship was fractured. Merlin had not only broken the laws of Camelot but had also kept a monumental secret from him. Part of him understood Merlin’s reasoning for keeping the secret, but the other part roared in anger at the deceit and manipulation. 

He gave in to the anger. 

It wasn’t anger that he could vocalize at the moment, so he instead let it brew within his chest. 

He was so caught up in the anger, that it took him a long moment to realize that Merlin was trembling and breathing raggedly. 

“Merlin?” He adjusted his grip around the man before his eyes drifted to the collar around his neck. 

It was glowing. 

“What’s happening?”

Merlin didn’t respond. 

The collar continued to glow. 

“Stop!” Arthur pulled the reins, prompting the horse to stop, and allowing him to scramble off. “How do I make this stop?” 

Tremors were coursing through Merlin’s body, as the collar continued to glow. 

Arthur suddenly had the sickening realization that the collar was reacting to the rage that he was currently feeling. “Damn.” He closed his eyes and focused on breathing through the heavy emotion that was coursing through his veins. “I’m not angry,” he murmured. “I am not...” the anger refused to dissipate, as he continued to focus on the fact that Merlin had practically betrayed him. 

Merlin suddenly jerked off the horse and fell in a heap to the ground, where he curled into a tight ball. 

“I’m not angry!” He practically shouted. “Stop!”

It didn't. 

He had to let it go - at least for the time being. 

While his anger was real, his friendship with Merlin was more important, and he would do anything to stop the pain that he was experiencing. 

“I am not angry.” He closed his eyes again and breathed deeply until the tightness in his chest began to loosen. “I am not angry.” He opened his eyes and looked at Merlin, who was still curled in a ball with his face hidden beneath his arms. The collar had stopped glowing, but the trembling continued. “I am not angry.” He cautiously approached his friend, and slowly knelt down next to him. “I am,” he admitted. “But not so much that I want to cause you pain. We will simply have to talk things over...eventually.”

How was he supposed to do this? 

How was he supposed to explain any of it to Gaius? To Gwen? To Morgana?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I did not mean to cause you any pain.”

Merlin shifted his arms to look at Arthur, before shifting from his side to his knees and pressing his forehead to the ground in a bow. 

Arthur glanced around the area they were in, mentally calculating how far they still had to travel before they reached the camp where the knights were waiting at. They were close, but not close enough. “We have to keep moving.” He glanced up at the sun, which was getting closer to the western horizon. “I need you to get back on the horse, Merlin. We don’t have far to go.”

Merlin obeyed the order and rose to his feet. His head remained bowed and his tremors shook his hands as he approached the horse.

Arthur stood by, ready to assist, in case his strength failed as he mounted, before mounting behind him and grasping the reins. 

Silence fell again as they resumed their journey, and this time Arthur focused his effort on keeping his mind clear. He would deal with everything later when was in the safety of his chambers with Gwen. 

A few long minutes passed before his horse broke through the familiar clearing that held the makeshift camp the Knights had set up.

 Leon and Percival were on the parameter keeping watch, Gwaine sat next to the fire stirring the contents of a pot, and Elyan and Lancelot were busy feeding and watering the horses.

Arthur couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief as he entered the safety and familiarity of his comrades and friends. 

Leon noticed their arrival first and immediately alerted the others. 

Arthur slipped off the saddle of the horse, and gently helped Merlin down, setting him carefully on his feet. 

“Well, aren’t you a site for sore eyes,” Gwaine stated. 

Merlin glanced up at the group of men approaching and immediately fell to his knees. 

The knights froze in their approach and stared at Merlin in shock for a moment before they turned their gaze to Arthur and stared at him questioningly. 

Arthur shook his head and gestured for them to back up. He would give them an explanation once Merlin was settled. 

They nodded, their expressions morphing into ones of concern and horror, as they backed away. 

Arthur crouched down and placed a hand gently on Merlin’s shoulder. 

Merlin tensed and inhaled sharply. 

“It’s okay,” Arthur soothed softly. “No one is going to hurt you. You’re safe here, Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t reply. 

Arthur began to truly wonder how much of the reality of his situation was getting to him. “Let’s get you closer to the fire, and warm you up again.”

Merlin didn’t move. 

Arthur closed his eyes and resisted the urge to march back and kill every single slaver in the den. “Get up, Merlin,” he ordered gently. “We’re going to the fire.”

Merlin obeyed and got to his feet, allowing Arthur to guide him towards a turned-over log next to the fire. 

“Nice and easy.” Arthur lowered him down and smiled encouragingly at him. 

Merlin averted his gaze and lowered his head into a bow. 

Arthur could feel the gaze of all of his knights on him. “Stay here. I’ll be back shortly.” He stepped away from the fire, moving a few paces into the trees in order to have privacy to explain everything. 

“Start with the damn collar,” Gwaine said, the second the knights were all gathered in a circle. 

“It binds Merlin to me, and forces compliance to every order. If he disobeys then it causes him pain. I also discovered that the collar reacts to my...emotions and punishes Merlin if it perceives me to be angry. The auctioneer also pointed out that it will not allow Merlin to eat, speak or sleep without my permission.”

A choked sound came from Lancelot. 

Gwaine swore. 

Percival curled his hands into fists. 

Elyan looked sick. 

Leon swayed slightly and gripped the hilt of his sword. 

“How do we get it off?” Elyan asked. 

Arthur shook his head. “Apparently it can only be removed by the person who put it on and they’re long gone.”

“Then we search the whole of Albion for them,” Gwaine said. 

“I agree,” Arthur said quickly. “But we have to get Merlin to safety first. Perhaps Gaius will have another solution, given his knowledge of magical artifacts.” He hedged for a moment on the next detail, heavily debating in his mind on whether or not to reveal Merlin’s secret of being a sorcerer. It wasn’t his secret to tell, and if he told it then it would be real. The Knights - his men - his friends would expect him to make a decision on what to do, and he didn’t know the answer to that yet. 

“There’s something else,” Lancelot spoke up softly. “Isn’t there.”

Damn, Lancelot’s intuitiveness. 

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes. “Merlin is...he has...he’s...well...he has magic,” he finally blurted out. “And the collar binds the magic to my will.”

At least two of his man gasped in surprise. 

Arthur raised his head and looked first at Leon, who seemed to be contemplating the revelation with mild curiosity. He then looked to Elyan and Percival who seemed genuinely shocked. Gwaine shrugged. And Lancelot...it was abundantly clear that Lancelot already knew of Merlin’s secret. 

“Merlin’s a sorcerer?” Leon asked. 

“Warlock,” Lancelot responded. “There’s a difference.”

“You knew?” Elyan asked. 

Lancelot maintained Arthur’s gaze for a moment, before nodding. “I did.”

“What’s the difference?” Elyan asked. 

“Warlocks are born with magic, while sorcerers train to become users of magic. Merlin is one of the most powerful warlocks to walk the earth."

Arthur was too stunned to do anything, besides nod. His mind couldn't grasp Lancelot's words. 

How could Merlin be the most powerful warlock? 

He was Merlin. 

“So if he uses his magic against your will...?” Leon asked. 

Arthur nodded, forcing himself to focus again. “The collar punishes him.”

“Damn them,” Gwaine muttered. 

“Did you gain any knowledge on what they did to him?” Lancelot asked. “Besides collaring him.”

“Not a whole lot,” Arthur responded grimly. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I talked to one slaver who explained that Merlin was trained in all aspects of servitude.”

“I don’t like how that sounds,” Gwaine said. 

“You’re going to like it even less when I tell you that ‘all aspects’ included sexual.”

Immediate rage flared through all of the knights. 

Gwaine swore the loudest. “I’m going back there and I’m going to kill them.”

The others grunted in agreement. 

Arthur held his hands up. “I’m as angry as you,” he said patiently. “And I intend to shut this ring down. But first, we have to think about Merlin. We need to get him out of these woods, and back to the castle where Gaius can take care of him.”

“He’s right,” Lancelot said. 

The others sighed in agreement and glanced through the trees at Merlin, who hadn’t moved. 

“What other aspects?” Elyan asked. 

“Uh...labor, battle...servitude. Most of the slaves in the den were trained in just one or two of the aspects, but Merlin was trained in all.”

“Damn them,” Gwaine repeated in a whisper. 

“They hurt him,” Arthur said. “Tortured him into submission and silence. It’s going to take a while for him to recover. And that’s without taking into consideration the ramifications of the collar.”

Silence fell among them. 

Arthur ran his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “It’s going to be a long journey back. The best we can do is keep him safe and calm until we get him to Gaius. We all want Merlin back, but the faster we accept that that’s not going to happen, the better. It’s going to be hard, but we have to try.”

None of them spoke for a moment.

Arthur knew that he wasn’t the only one holding out hope that Merlin would be able to return unscathed and resume life as he had left it. 

“How close is supper?”

“A couple minutes,” Gwaine answered, with a shrug. 

“Great. I’m going to try and coax some food into him, before some rest. I know you guys want to reunite with him, but it’d be best if we didn’t crowd.”

“We understand,” Leon said. 

“Yeah,” the others agreed. 

Arthur nodded. “Okay.” He walked back out to the clearing and cautiously approached Merlin. “Hey.” He crouched down next to him and noticed the shivers running through his body. “You need a blanket.” he glanced around. “Perce, grab a blanket will you?” 

Percival nodded and pulled one from a pack. “Here.” He stepped closer to Merlin and carefully draped it around his shoulders. “There you go, Merlin,” he said softly. 

Arthur nodded gratefully to him and adjusted the blanket slightly. “Gwaine’s got some food cooking. I’m sure it’ll be nothing compared to your cooking, but hopefully, it’ll be at least somewhat edible.”

“Oi, watch it, Princess,” Gwaine quipped, half-heartedly. 

His heart wasn't in it. 

Merlin remained silent and frozen. 

Gwaine’s expression fell slightly. He focused intently on stirring the soup in the pot, his hand gripping the spoon slightly tighter than usual. 

Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s knee. “I need you to listen to me. You are allowed to speak if you want. You are allowed to eat, and you are allowed to rest.”

Merlin raised his head slightly and looked at Arthur. “Please don’t hurt me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll be good.”

Arthur hadn’t been prepared for that. 

His stomach dropped and his heart ached. 

Merlin didn’t recognize him, or at least that he wasn’t truly out of slavery. He had watched Arthur exchange money for him, and talk about how he intended to enjoy him. The collar had punished him because of Arthur’s anger towards him. 

Arthur felt dirty all over again. 

He wanted to throw up. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured softly. 

“I’ll be good,” Merlin whispered again, his shoulder hunching over slightly. 

“You don’t have to be.”

“Here.” Gwaine poured some soup into a bowl and held it out. “See if this helps him.”

Arthur accepted the bowl and held it out to Merlin. “I want you to eat if you feel up to it.”

Merlin’s eyes widened and turned glassy slightly. His hands shook as he accepted the bowl, and his eyes widened as he stared down at the soup. 

“It’s okay,” Arthur said. “You can eat.”

Merlin lifted the spoon and slowly began to eat. 

His hands continued to shake, and he seemed to be expecting Arthur or one of the knights to snatch the bowl from his hands. 

“Here.” Gwaine held a bowl out to Arthur. 

“Thanks.” Arthur accepted it and did his best to eat casually next to Merlin. 

It took everything in him to not throw up, as he felt the waves of fear and anxiety coming from Merlin. He was half aware of the other knights accepting bowls from Gwaine and spreading out around the clearing to eat. 

By the time Merlin had finished the bowl of soup, the sun had completely set. 

“Here, I’ll take that.” Arthur held his hand out for Merlin’s bowl and waited for Merlin to timidly give it to him, before handing it over to Gwaine. “Alright. How about some sleep? You look like a small wind could knock you down.” 

Merlin shuddered and hunched down again. 

Arthur licked his lips nervously and stepped away from Merlin to give him space. “You can lie down if you want.”

Merlin lowered himself to the ground and laid on his back. He pushed the blanket away and raised his arms above his head. 

Arthur exchanged a confused look with Gwaine, before noticing that Merlin was also spreading his legs. 

Understanding slammed down on him. 

He swallowed past the bile that suddenly burned his throat, and inched forward in order to place a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. 

Merlin tensed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said softly. “I am not going to do anything like that. I just want you to sleep.”

Merlin remained frozen in the position for a long moment before slowly shifting to his side and curling around himself. 

He was out in moments. 

Percival walked over and replaced the blanket over him. 

No one spoke, but Arthur knew that they were all thinking the same thing. The tension gave it away. They were all furious and plotting the death of every single person who had had a hand in breaking their friend.

Chapter Text

Arthur immediately broke away from the camp and disappeared into the dark fold of the trees, where he drew his sword and began to swing it aggressively at a gnarled oak. His mind was clouded over with anger, and instead of a tree, he pictured the faces of the slavers and auctioneer. He even allowed himself to imagine cutting down the rival bidder who had viewed Merlin with such predatorial lust. He longed to march back and destroy the ring, cutting down every single monster that presided there, but he knew that they were easily outnumbered. His knights were the best in Albion, but it was too big of a risk. They weren’t focused and it would be better to return with more force. So, he continued to take his anger out on the poor tree. 

Leon was standing beside him, with a torch, when he finally lowered his sword and turned to head back to camp. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly.”

Leon nodded and glanced around him at the tree. “Gwaine set off in the opposite direction to do the same.”

“Naturally.” Arthur sheathed his sword and puffed out a breath. “Who’s on watch?” 

“Well Percival and Elyan have the perimeter and Lancelot has Merlin.”

Arthur nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“Do you think he’ll be in well enough condition to begin traveling tomorrow?”

“I think so. I didn’t see any outstanding injuries that would prevent him from riding. They beat up, yes, but nothing permanent. They probably kept him in better condition as the time came to...” his mouth went dry at the mere thought of the next word. “Sell him,” he finished softly. 

Leon grimaced and nodded understandingly. “Probably,” he agreed softly. 

Arthur sighed and ran his hand over his mouth. “This is a nightmare. In all the ways I thought we’d find him, this was...I almost wish he had been killed,” he muttered bitterly. “Death would have been a far kinder fate than this.”

Leon didn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re right,” he said softly. “But we have him back, and that’s what matters. We can get him better.”

Arthur wanted to believe him. More than anything he wanted to believe and adopt Leon’s optimism. But...“I don’t know, Leon,” he murmured. “They shattered his spirit, collared him like an animal, and completely removed his autonomy. I don’t see how he recovers from this. I really don’t.”

“We’ll get him there,” Leon said. “Getting him home to Gaius will probably be the best balm for him. For both of them. You know how much pain Gaius has been in.”

He had a point there. 

Arthur would never be able to forget the empty sorrow in the old physician’s eyes as the months passed without any sign of Merlin. He could even hear his own voice promising that he would stop until he had searched the whole of Albion to know for certain that Merlin was still out there. 

“We have him,” Leon repeated. “Which means we can heal him. Gaius will have a way to get the collar off, and if he doesn’t then we will search for the one who can.”

Arthur found himself nodding, even as his mind drifted to the time that he was taking away from being with Gwen, and being a monarch. Merlin needed him, yes, but he had responsibilities.

The kingdom was in Gwen’s capable hands, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t needed. 

Leon seemed to be reading his thoughts. “Let's start with getting him home. We’ll go from there.”

He continued to nod and heaved a sigh. “Okay.”

Leon stepped forward and grasped his shoulder. “Okay. Now I’m going to give the same speech to Gwaine.”

Arthur chuckled weakly and began back to the fire with him. “Good luck.”

Leon patted his shoulder and disappeared into the trees. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s just a dream. It’s over.”

Arthur frowned at the sound of Lancelot’s voice and looked to where Merlin was lying, cowering and writhing in the throws of a nightmare while Lancelot tried to offer as much comfort as possible without actually touching him. 

“It’s over, Merlin,” he continued to soothe. 

Merlin curled into a tight ball, while whatever torture his memory was reliving continued to wrack his mind. 

Not a sound was escaping his mouth. 

Not that it was needed. 

Arthur could hear his screams loud and clear. 

His limbs refused to move. All he could do was stare in shock and horror as his best friend jerked on the ground. 

Lancelot wasn’t having any success. 

Arthur finally gained control of himself and dropped to his knees next to Merlin. “Merlin, stop.”

Merlin froze, his body going completely rigid. 

Horror slipped into Arthur’s stomach as he realized what he had just done. 

“No, no, no. Not like that. Not like that. I just want you to wake up.”

Merlin’s eyes opened on command, and shifted to Arthur, staring at him in terror. 

“I just wanted the nightmare to stop,” he said softly. “I swear I...” He realized that Merlin was still holding completely still. He wasn’t even breathing. “You can move. You can breathe. Please, God, breathe.” How many times had the slavers ordered him to hold his breath? To hold completely still? 

Merlin moved. His chest rose with a hitched breath before he scrambled away from Arthur and immediately slipped into the bow with his forehead pressed against the ground. His body was shaking again. 

Tears pricked Arthur’s eyes. “Merlin...”

“I’ll talk him down,” Lancelot said softly. His expression was as broken as Arthur felt. 

“I just wanted him to wake up,” Arthur said helplessly. 

“I know.”

Arthur had never felt so helpless and useless in his life. 

“Try and rest,” Lancelot suggested. “You’ve had a trying day. I’ll continue to sit with him. One of us should try and get some sleep.”

Arthur wanted to protest. He wanted to yell and scream. But that wouldn’t help, and he knew that Lancelot was right. “Okay,” he relented. “Just...wake me if...well if anything happens.”

“I will,” he promised. 

Arthur took a long glance at Merlin, his heart shattering even more before he walked around to the other side of the fire where his pack was resting. He yanked the blanket out, and folded it into a pillow, before laying down and staring blindly at the sky. 

He doubted sleep would come. 

But he had to try. 

. . . 

Merlin was no better the next morning. 

He flinched at any sudden movement, near him or not, darted his eyes anxiously around the camp at every sound, and seemed to be bracing himself for some kind of attack. It was abundantly clear that any fight had been beaten out of him, and that he would take whatever came at him. 

The knights noticed as well and were taking extra care to be gentle around him. Each of their steps were deliberate and thought out. They ensured to maintain a wide perimeter around Merlin, only stepping near him when no other option presented itself. 

Even Gwaine was subdued. Something they all rarely saw. His jokes, when he had one, were toned down and almost muted in comparison to how they usually were. His gaze continuously darted to Merlin throughout the routine of making breakfast, and Arthur knew that he longed for a simple solution to fix him. 

Lancelot seemed to be the only one able to get anywhere near Merlin. Arthur wasn’t sure what he had said last night, but it helped. Merlin seemed the slightest more relaxed with him in his space than all the others. It was he who was able to approach Merlin with a cup of water. 

Merlin shrunk into himself and glanced anxiously at Arthur. 

“You can drink,” Arthur said. 

He was getting more and more curious about how the collar worked. Would he have to renew the permissions for Merlin’s basic needs every day? 

Merlin accepted the cup with a shaking hand and took a tentative sip, before quickly setting it down again. 

“You can have more,” Lancelot said. 

Merlin chewed his lip nervously for a moment, before picking the cup up again and taking a longer drink. 

“Well done,” Lancelot praised. “Now, how about some breakfast?” He accepted a bowl of porridge from Gwaine and held it out to Merlin. 

Merlin stared at the porridge in shock.

Arthur could almost read his thoughts. 

Two meals so close together? 

They must want something. 

What do they want?

Merlin glanced fearfully at Arthur.

Arthur curled his hands into a tight fist and attempted to take a calming breath. “You can eat, Merlin. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Merlin swallowed nervously and shook his head. 

He didn’t believe Arthur. 

He probably couldn’t. 

A year’s worth of conditioning and torture wasn’t just going to magically go away after one night. 

He chewed his lip for another moment, before seeming to make up his mind. He peeled his tunic over his head, and lowered himself onto his back, raising his arms above his head and spreading his legs again. 

Arthur was too stunned to do anything. 

Thankfully Percival acted quickly and tossed a blanket over Merlin, covering him. 

Merlin flinched. 

Lancelot adjusted the blanket. “We’re not going to do that,” he explained gently. “You don’t have to do that ever again.” 

It was probably going to happen again, but one could hope. 

And hope they did. 

Arthur hated the idea of giving an order, but he couldn’t bear the sight of Merlin lying on the ground waiting to be raped. “Sit up, Merlin.”

Merlin obeyed, his movements jerky as his limbs trembled. His eyes were filled with unshed tears and confusion. 

“All we want you to do is eat,” Lancelot said patiently, adjusting the blanket again so that it covered Merlin more fully. He looked at Arthur and gave a small nod. 

The message was clear. 

Arthur cleared his throat and looked down. “Eat your breakfast, Merlin.” It was revolting to have such power over another human being, but if it was what Merlin needed to get some proper food in him, then he would do it. 

He looked up to accept a bowl from Gwaine and watched as Merlin ate. 

His eyes were glazed over and dull, as he mechanically brought each spoonful to his mouth. 

Arthur felt dirty. 

In the span of 12 hours, he had given a total of four orders, exercising the power of complete control over his friend. 

What sort of messed up hell had they found themselves in? 

. . . 

They let Merlin sit by the fire while they packed up camp. 

Lancelot had helped him put his tunic back on and then had left him alone to stare quietly at the fire. 

Arthur did his best to focus on doing his part in getting everything ready to leave. Being busy prevented his mind from dwelling on the horrific reality they were now facing. Instead, he thought of who was waiting for him in Camelot, and how anxious he was to be with her again. 

“Alright,” Leon said, once the packs of supplies were all loaded on the horses. “Let’s get him up.” 

They all turned to look expectantly at Arthur. 

Arthur hated himself. 

He walked over and carefully crouched down next to Merlin who, of course, flinched. “It’s time to go, Merlin. We’ve got a bit of a ride ahead of us. I need you to get up.”

Merlin obeyed and got to his feet, before following Arthur to his horse. He stepped behind Arthur’s horse, pressed his wrists together, and held them out expectantly. 

It took Arthur a moment to realize what he was expecting, and his heart dropped slightly when he did. “You’ll be on the saddle with me,” he said, working hard to keep his voice even. “I should have brought a horse for you, but you know me. I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached. Come on,” he coaxed gently. 

Merlin frowned in confusion but obeyed, and slowly mounted the saddle. 

Arthur climbed on behind him and gripped the reins. “Alright then. Let’s get out of here.”

The knights didn’t need to be told twice. 

Gwaine took the lead, with Percival behind him. Arthur fell in behind Leon, with Elyan bringing up the rear. 

Arthur gripped the reins, mentally psyching himself up to survive the journey ahead.

Chapter Text

Percival knew that Gwaine was close to the edge. He knew how much hope the man had been holding for the possibility of finding Merlin safe and unscathed, and he knew how much his heart had been crushed by the state of Merlin’s mind. 

Which is why it wasn’t a surprise to him when Gwaine stormed into the forest at their break for lunch. 

Merlin’s silence had been deafening on the ride. 

Elyan was getting food ready, Leon and Lancelot were watering the horses and Arthur was coaxing Merlin to walk around and stretch. 

Percival swept his gaze around the clearing for any obvious threat, before stepping into the trees to follow Gwaine. 

“I’m fine, Perce,” Gwaine said when Percival got within a few feet of where he was leaning against a tree.

“How’d you know it was me?” Percival joked lightly. 

“I know you, you big oaf,” Gwaine responded tiredly. 

“Just like I know you’re lying about being fine.”

Gwaine sighed heavily, his shoulders heaving slightly before he turned to face Percival. “Yeah,” he murmured.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of nature embracing their presence. Percival let it be, knowing that when Gwaine was ready he would speak. 

“I can’t stand seeing him like this,” Gwaine finally said, his voice mixed with both anger and sorrow. 

“I know,” Percival said. 

Gwaine shook his head and turned away angrily. “He doesn’t deserve to be like this.”

“I know.”

“He is too good. Too kind. Too...”

Percival took a small step forward and brushed his hand against Gwaine’s. “Too pure.”

“Yes.” Gwaine closed his fingers around Percival. “He was the first man to treat me like more than just a drunk.” He turned to look at Percival, the anger abated slightly and was replaced with deep sorrow. “He was my first friend in Camelot.”

Percival squeezed his hand gently, offering as much comfort and solace as he could. “I know.”

Merlin had been the first friend to many of the knights of the round table. 

His quiet strength and friendship were probably what held the entirety of Camelot together. 

“I need him back, Perce.”

“I know.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Yes,” Percival replied simply. 

Gwaine shook his head, but Percival caught the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Percival shrugged easily. “You tell me often enough.” He reached out for Gwaine’s other hand. “Don’t give up on Merlin. He’s still in there. Buried, yes, beneath months of pain and anguish, but he’s there. If he’s resilient enough to practice magic in the very place that it is banned, then he’s resilient enough to recover from this.”

Gwaine nodded and looked down at their hands. “I could have used you last night,” he murmured. 

“Leon handled it, did he not?”

“He did. But I would have much rather it had been you.” He looked up and met Percival’s gaze. “I wouldn’t have survived any of this without you,” he said softly. 

Percival smirked gently. “I know.”

Gwaine scoffed and shook his head. “Oaf,” he muttered under his breath. 

“You got me through it as well,” Percival said seriously. “You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Percival stepped closer to Gwaine and bent down to press their foreheads together. “Every beat,” he murmured. 

“Belongs to you,” Gwaine finished in the same murmur. 

They remained in the quiet moment of reprieve for a second, before Percival pulled away. 

“You’re hungry,” he said softly. “Come eat.” 

“You go ahead, I’ll be along.”

Percival nodded and forced himself to release Gwaine’s hands, before walking back along the path to the camp. 

The horses were watered and fed, which meant that Leon and Lancelot had joined Lancelot on the log across from where Arthur was sitting with Merlin. 

Merlin was sitting tensely, with his shoulders hunched and head bowed. 

A thought suddenly occurred to Percival, making him slightly queasy. “He hasn’t relieved himself yet, has he?”

Everyone’s head popped up. 

“No,” Arthur said slowly. 

“The collar probably won’t allow him without your permission,” Leon said. 

“Damn.” Arthur turned quickly to face Merlin, causing him to flinch slightly. “You have permission to go into the trees to relieve yourself.”

Merlin glanced up nervously and stared at Arthur with wide eyes. 

“Go, if you need to.” 

Merlin shot to his feet and disappeared into the trees. 

“Good call, Percival,” Arthur said. “I didn’t even think...” He shook rested his elbows against his knees and gripped his hair. “This is a nightmare. I can’t even fathom all the things that the collar refuses to let him do without permission.”

No one said anything. 

Percival lowered himself next to Leon, just as Gwaine emerged from the trees. 

“Where’s Merlin?” Gwaine demanded. 

“A few steps in the trees,” Lancelot said. “Relieving himself.”

“Oh.” He sat next to Percival, their shoulders pressed against each other. 

While their relationship was by no means a secret to the other knights, it also wasn’t something that was outright talked about. 

Elyan passed around the bowl of dried meat and fruit he had prepared, clearing hoping to act as normal as possible for when Merlin returned. 

They ate in silence. 

Something that had become more frequent ever since Merlin was taken. 

Percival had come to loathe it. 

Several minutes passed before Merlin returned and sat down on the log again. 

“Here you go. I made you a plate.” Arthur held the plate of meat and fruit out, close enough for Merlin to grab, but far enough that he would have to reach for it. 

Merlin frowned at it, before hesitantly reaching out and taking it. 

“You can eat,” Arthur prompted gently. “And talk, if you want to. And if you need to relieve yourself later, you can do that as well.”

Merlin shrunk into himself, clearly overwhelmed. 

It was clear as day that he was beyond confused with how he was being treated. He seemed to be waiting for everyone to snap and begin to treat him in the same manner that the slavers had treated him. 

It was up to them to patiently prove to him that that wasn’t going to be the case.

. . . 

Arthur was exhausted. 

It was barely midday, and the lack of sleep he had received the night before, doubled with mentally processing everything that he now had to think about for Merlin was draining him of all energy. 

The thought of giving Merlin permission for the menial act of relieving himself hadn't crossed his mind, and he found himself thanking God for Percival. He dreaded thinking about how things had gone if the man hadn't spoken up. 

His mind began to make a list of everything Merlin no longer had control over: speaking, sleeping, eating, relieving himself, moving, breathing. Everything any normal person took for granted had been stripped from him.

It was hell. 

Leon suddenly stood and looked into the trees. "Someone's here."

"What?"

The knights all shot to their feet and drew their swords. 

Arthur stood as well and placed himself in front of Merlin. "Are you sure?"

Leon nodded. 

Arthur gripped his sword and pulled it from its sheath. "Whoever's out there, come out."

A few tense seconds passed before a man emerged from the trees, holding a long chain that was connected to the collar of another - much smaller and weaker - man. 

"Oh. Wow. Hello. Sorry for intruding on you lot. I'm just passing...through..." he caught sight of Merlin and his eyes widened. "I see you got that one, eh?"

Arthur shifted slightly to cover Merlin from the man's gaze. "Yes."

"I would have liked to have left with him, but the price got too high. Had to settle for this one." He jerked the chain, sending the smaller man to the ground, where he immediately cowered. "Don't suppose you'd like to trade? I'd compensate you handsomely."

Arthur clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I'm quite settled with my purchase."

"Hmm." The man looked around at the knights, sizing them up. "Who are you lot? Assassins? Soldiers?"

"Mercenaries," Lancelot said. 

The man tsked his tongue and nodded. "I see." He glanced in Merlin's direction for a moment, before shrugging and smiling.

His smile made Arthur's skin crawl. 

"Well, we best be on our way. Sorry, again, for barging in." 

Arthur forced himself to shake his head. "No problem."

"On your feet, you miserable imbecile." The man yanked the chain again, forcing the man to his feet. "Just you wait until we get where we're going." 

The two of them disappeared into the trees.

Arthur released a low breath and sheathed his sword. "We need to get home. I have a bad feeling about these woods." He didn't know what he was feeling, but he couldn't shake the thought that danger was lurking in the trees, waiting to pounce. 

Chapter Text

The journey back to Camelot was one of the most trying journeys Arthur and the Knights had ever done. 

All because of Merlin.

No, that wasn’t right. 

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that he no longer had any control over himself, and had to rely wholly on Arthur for permission to do such simple tasks. 

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that he had spent the last year being tortured into terrified submission. 

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that every time he slept horrific nightmares plagued his mind and caused him to writhe and cower, subsequently making everyone else afraid to sleep in fear of leaving him behind to face the memories. 

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that he existed in confusion, unsure of how to act around his former friends and brothers. 

It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that he reacted so violently when they broke through the familiar clearing that was nestled a few miles from the city. 

. . . 

They were so close. 

After a tortuous 2 day and 2-night journey, they finally were within a couple of hours' ride to the citadel. 

Everyone was exhausted and subdued. 

“Let’s take a break,” Leon suggested. 

Arthur nodded his head in agreement and pulled his horse to a stop. “Alright, Merlin. You can go relieve yourself if you need to. We’ll get some food going, and you can eat. You can also rest if you want to.” He slid off the saddle and helped Merlin down. 

Arthur and the Knights were exhausted, but their exhaustion paled in comparison to how Merlin looked. Dark circles had taken up permanent residency under his eyes, starkly standing out in contrast to the abnormally pale pallor of his skin. His eyes were dull, his cheeks were gaunt, and he seemed to be constantly attempting to make himself as small as possible. 

“Let’s sit you down.” Arthur guided Merlin over to a log next to a spot that had been used as a fireplace at one point. 

Merlin stilled as they got closer, going rigid and staring at the log and hearth in fear. 

Arthur immediately stopped and stared at the hearth, wondering what about it was making Merlin so afraid. “Merlin?”

A branch suddenly snapped behind them, and Merlin fell to his knees, cowering away from Arthur. 

“What’s going on?” Leon asked. 

“I don’t know,” Arthur responded. “I don’t...” he stepped closer to the log to examine it. 

“Oh shit,” Gwaine suddenly said.

“What?” Leon asked. 

“I know where we are." He looked around for a moment, before scoffing. "This is where he was taken.”

"Damn," Lancelot said softly. 

“This is where Gaius sent him to get that special herb he needed," Gwaine finished softly. "I...I came here to look for him."

They all collectively looked at Merlin, who was curled up and cowering, his hands covering his face and his body trembling. 

“We need to get him out of here,” Leon said firmly. 

Arthur nodded and stepped closer to Merlin, only for him to scramble away. "Merlin."

Merlin lifted his head, and Arthur watched in shock as his eyes flashed gold. 

He was trying to use his magic to defend himself. 

The collar reacted, immediately glowing a bright red. 

Merlin opened his mouth in a silent scream and began to writhe on the ground, his face contorted into one of pure agony. 

“Stop!” Arthur fell to his knees and reached for Merlin. “Stop, stop, stop!” His hand stopped inches from Merlin’s shoulder. “Oh, God, stop! Please!"

The collar continued to glow, thoroughly punishing Merlin for his attempt to use magic against his master. 

“Please stop,” Arthur begged. “I’m not angry. It’s okay.” He didn’t know who he was talking to. “Please stop.”

The collar finally began to fade, after what felt like an eternity, and Merlin’s limbs fell limply to the ground. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving with uneven breaths. 

A heavy silence fell on the clearing, as each of the men felt the horror of what had just occurred. 

“He hasn’t cried,” Elyan suddenly said softly.

It took a moment for Arthur to realize what his friend had said. “What?” He turned to look at Elyan. “What do you mean?”

“In the days we’ve had him, we’ve seen him react to pain and horrors, but not once has a tear been shed. I don’t know about you guys, but if I’d gone through even half of what Merlin’s gone through, I’d be crying.”

Horror settled on all of them. 

“They took it away,” Leon said. 

Arthur wanted to cry. 

The urge to throw up nearly overwhelmed him, but instead he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Merlin, you can cry.”

The word had barely left Arthur’s mouth before tears began to well up in Merlin’s eyes and spill down his cheeks. Moments later his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. 

Arthur sat back, giving him space to release the emotion that he had held for...he didn’t want to think about how long Merlin had been restricted from being able to express his grief. 

. . . 

Merlin was making good time with arriving at the clearing Gaius had directed him to. It was quiet and serene when he arrived, with the chirping of birds being the only sound for miles. 

He was, well and truly, alone. 

A sigh escaped his lips, and a brush of magic rushed from his fingertips, dancing along with the wind. 

He smiled softly and closed his eyes, a physical weight seeming to lift from his chest. 

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

Merlin opened his eyes and turned sharply to face a man in dark clothes, leaning lazily against a tree. “Who are you?”

“That’s of little importance. What is important is that you just used magic, didn’t you?”

Merlin laughed nervously and took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Two other, larger, men emerged from the trees, flanking the first. 

“You’d fetch a pretty penny.”

Slave Traders. 

“Bit bold of you guys to be this close to the citadel, don’t you think?”

“Well, it’s worth it, if we manage to leave with you in tow. Get him.”

The men stepped forward, and Merlin immediately brought his hand up to send them back. 

The lead man brought his hand up as well, creating some kind of shield to block Merlin’s magic. 

Merlin stared in shock for a moment. “Well, this has been interesting. Uh...bye.” He turned and took off, running the path back toward the city. 

He was going to make it. 

He had to make it. 

He-

Something suddenly pierced his neck, and before he could comprehend it, he descended into darkness. 

Merlin’s head was pounding when he regained consciousness. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt 10x its normal size. There was no question about him being in some sort of trouble. His arms were pulled above his head, with his wrists chained together, and his ankles were shackled and connected to something else. A pole probably. 

“...he’s a powerful one. Are you sure the collar will control him?”

“This collar was made by a high priestess of the old religion. It’ll do whatever we want it to do.”

Collar?

Merlin focused on the feeling of his neck and was startled at the feeling of cold metal pressing against his skin. 

His heart rate quickened. 

What was going on?

He reached for his magic but found it to be just out of reach, just past his fingertips. 

“He’s awake.”

“Ready to see this in action? Release his arms.”

Merlin began to struggle to break free. 

If he could only reach his magic. 

“Oh no you don’t.” A knee settled on Merlin’s chest, keeping him down as the chains around his ankles and wrists were released.

“You can let him go,” the lead voice said. 

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

The man holding him seemed just as confused as Merlin, as he released his hold. 

Merlin immediately shot to his feet and turned to run. 

“Stop.”

A feeling washed over Merlin, bringing with it a weight that settled in the back of his mind, prompting him to obey. 

Merlin ignored the feeling and kept going. 

He got another step in before the collar around his neck began to burn, sending waves of pain throughout his entire body. 

His legs gave out from underneath him, and he hit the ground. 

The pain continued, raging over and through him, drawing a hoarse scream from his throat. 

The man walked over and loomed over Merlin. “You disobeyed. I know you felt the weight of the order. This could have been avoided if you had simply done as you were told.”

Merlin continued to scream.

“That’s such awful noise your making.” He closed his eyes and murmured a spell under his voice. “Silence.”

Merlin’s voice suddenly shut off. 

His mouth was still open and the air was still rushing from his throat, but his voice was gone. 

“Much better. The pain will stop, once you give into the weight that is prompting you to obey.”

Oh, God. 

Why was this happening?

Where was Arthur when he needed him? 

“Give in. You need not suffer so unnecessarily.”

Merlin could still feel the weight, bearing down at the back of his mind, compelling him to submit. 

He wouldn’t. 

The pain seemed to magnify. 

His vision wavered and darkness came close to enveloping him. 

“Uh, uh, uh. No. You do not get to sleep. You do not get to escape unless I allow it. You do not get to rest unless I allow it.”

The darkness retreated. 

What was going on?

The pain was unbearable, and now he had no escape. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, ad focused on the weight. 

Fine. 

Oh, God, fine. 

The pain immediately receded, as the weight settled down. 

His entire body was trembling, completely out of his control, his throat was raw and his cheeks were wet with tears. 

“Let’s try this again, shall we? Get up.”

The weight sank down, and he gave into the compulsion to stand. 

“Remove your clothes. All of them. Starting with the pants.”

Hell no. 

Merlin resisted the compulsion, and the collar began to burn. 

His hands scrambled to his waistband, and soon enough he was standing completely bare, the skin of his neck and chest burning with shame. 

“Hands at your side.” The man began to circle him. “You will learn, soon enough, boy, that your body no longer belongs to you. Nothing belongs to you, because you are nothing.”

Merlin’s heart began to sink, and tears continued to leak down his cheeks. 

Why was this happening? 

The man glanced around at the other two men, who were watching in amazement. 

“What shall we have him do next?” He reached out and touched Merlin’s shoulder, running his fingers down Merlin’s spine. “We have all night.”

Merlin shuttered. 

The man walked around to face Merlin. “Go kneel by the fire.”

Merlin found himself obeying without even thinking about it. He knelt down in front of the log, a few feet from the blazing fire, his heart beginning to pound wildly in his chest. 

He needed to escape. 

The man followed and sat behind him. 

“Bend over. Forehead to the ground.”

Merlin knew what was coming, and lunged for his magic. 

The collar reacted, sending fresh waves of pain throughout him, and sending him down to his side, where he writhed in agony. 

The man tsked his tongue. “Well, you were bound to learn that lesson sooner or later.” He leaned back, waiting out the minutes that passed, as Merlin writhed on the ground. 

Merlin was sure he was going to go insane. 

Oh, God, please, stop. Please. 

“Ready to try again?”

No!

Yes!

Yes.

The pain receded, leaving him limp and trembling. 

“Sit up.” 

A sob propelled itself from Merlin’s mouth. 

The pain began to build up. 

Merlin hurried to obey. 

“Stop crying.”

The sobs stopped abruptly, and his eyes, while still aching, stopped leaking tears. 

Merlin choked, feeling suspended in the air, as another part of his autonomy was taken. 

“Much better. No one wants to fuck a blubbering mess. Now bend over.”

Merlin’s chest tightened, as he found himself obeying the command, and bending so that his forehead was pressed to the ground. 

He heard the man rustling before he felt a hand run down his flank. 

He squeezed his eyes shut.

He wouldn’t feel this. 

He did feel it. He felt every pull, push, slap, and tug, sending fiery pain radiating throughout his body. Pain that seemed to be amplified by the collar. 

He knew he was screaming. 

Noise refused to leave his lips, but he could feel the rush of air past his throat.

The man bore down on him, yanking his hair with each of his thrusts, before finally - finally pulling himself out and moving away. 

"Stay put."

Merlin's limbs stilled at the order. 

He longed to curl around himself, but his body refused to move. 

"You're in for a long journey, boy. It's at least a 3-day journey to where we're going, and we intend to start your training before we get to the facility. It's not up to us what they use you for, but we'll certainly have our recommendations."

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, and bit down on his lip.

Why was this happening?

What had he done wrong to deserve this? 

This couldn't be what destiny had in mind for him. 

"Alright boys, who's next?"

The men took turns using Merlin, throughout the entirety of the night, switching off from sleeping, keeping watch, and assualting him. 

Merlin was numb by the time the sun was starting to rise. 

His mind was torn between dwelling on what had happened to him, and refusing to even think about it. 

They ordered him to arrange his body in a variety of positions, each one more degrading than the last. 

"Oi, someone's coming."

Merlin perked up slightly, at the sound of hooves approaching. 

He was saved.

There was no way in hell that the men were going to get away with what they had done. Not while they were this close to the citadel. 

The man currently abusing him pulled out quickly. "Get up," he whispered harshly into his ear. 

He refused. 

Whoever was coming needed to see him, if they were going to save him. 

The pain returned with a vengeance, radiating over his broken body and hitting and attacking every single one of his raw nerves.  

"Get him in the trees!" 

"He's not moving!"

"Make him!"

Merlin barely felt something attach to his collar before he was being forcibly dragged into the trees, sending even more pain through him as his skin was scratched and bruised by the rocks and trees.

"You're going to pay for that later."

He already was paying for it. 

The pain of the collar had yet to subside, causing his muscles to lock and tremble from pure agony. 

His mind was beginning to crumble.

He could feel himself losing his grip on reality. 

He was starting to feel sorry for disobeying. 

Please. 

He would obey. 

He would be good. 

Please.

An eternity passed before the pain finally subsided. 

"...haven't seen him."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. It's just been me out here. I'm traveling to see my daughter."

"Huh."

Merlin knew that voice. 

Gwaine had come looking for him. 

"Well, keep an eye out, will you?"

"Of course."

He was leaving.

Gwaine was right there, and he was leaving.

Merlin screamed. He shouted. He begged. He cried.  

Gwaine heard none of it. 

Merlin's chest tightened, threatening to explode. 

"We're clear."

Merlin was dragged back to the clearing. 

He didn't have it in him to resist. 

The men dropped him in a heap, and shoved his head to the ground. 

"We need to get a move on," the leader said. "Pack up camp, while I get him ready."

"Yeah, boss."

The lead man walked over and towered over Merlin. "On your feet."

Merlin obeyed. 

"Wrists together and out."

Merlin obeyed.

Something within him had broken. 

The man secured a length of rope around his wrists and used it to pull him towards a horse. "You're not going to like the consequences for slowing us down."

Merlin barely had time to comprehend what was going to happen, before the man was mounting his saddle, and tying the other end of the rope to the horn. 

He was still naked and shoeless.

The man seemed to be able to sense his thoughts, as he looked down at him. "You have to earn back the privilege of covering yourself. So far, it's going to be a long while before that happens."

Merlin's eyes ached with tears that he couldn't shed. 

"Ready, boss."

"Let's go."

The horse began to move, and Merlin had no choice but to follow. 

He glanced over his shoulder at the path that lead back to the city and prayed for Gwaine to return. 

He didn't. 

It wasn't long before the path disappeared. 

Chapter Text

It had been 10 days since Arthur had kissed Gwenivere on the steps of the citadel, and left with his knights in search of Merlin. 

10 days since she had looked into his eyes and felt her heart break slightly at the despair that was beginning to shine in his eyes. 

He was giving up hope of ever finding Merlin alive. 

Yes, they had a lead, but it was mostly just rumors. 

“One last time,” he murmured, as he hugged her. 

She closed her eyes, feeling the finality of his words in her heart. 

It was time for them to move on. 

Her heart ached. 

And now it had been 10 days, without any word. 

“Say ah.”

“Ahh.”

Gwen turned from gazing out the bedroom window to look at Tristain who was holding his mouth open for Gaius to look into. 

“Healthy,” Gaius declared after a second. He looked at Gwen and smiled kindly. “You have two healthy children.” His eyes drifted to her stomach. “Soon to be three.” 

“Can I listen to baby?” Ayila asked. 

Of course.” Gwen moved to a comfortable chair and smiled as her daughter approached. 

Gaius came with her and handed her the horn. “Do you remember how to use it?”

“Wide end against the stomach.”

“Good girl.”

She handled the horn reverently and pressed it gently against Gwen’s stomach. 

A few seconds passed before she gasped excitedly and looked up at Gwen. “I heard it!”

“What did it sound like?”

“A horse galloping.”

“May I have a listen?” Gaius asked. 

“Sure.” Aiyla handed him the horn and stepped back so that Gaius could kneel in front of Gwen. 

Gaius listened for a second, before nodding. “Like a horse.” 

“I listen!” Tristan, ever one to be included, hurried over and held his hand out to Gaius. 

“I will hold it,” Gaius said patiently. “You press your ear to it and listen.”

He nodded and did as Gaius instructed. “Whoa! Is there a horse with the baby?”

Gwen laughed softly and ran her finger through her son’s curly hair. “No. That’s just their heartbeat.”

“When will baby come?” 

“Not for a few more weeks,” Gaius answered. 

“Will daddy be home when baby comes?” Aiyla asked. “Will he bring Uncle Merlin home for the baby?”

Gwen’s met Gaius’s gaze and felt her chest tighten with sorry at the amount of pain suddenly filling his eyes. “I don’t know,” she answered softly, turning her gaze to her daughter. “I hope so.”

Tristan tried to climb onto her lap. “I don’t fit,” he pouted. 

“You don’t do you?” Gwen pulled him up to the small space left on the chair, allowing him to lean against her chest. She closed her eyes and continued to steadily stroke her son’s curls, while her mind wandered to Arthur. 

She needed him home. 

She was by no means alone in handling the children and royal affairs, but she knew that Camelot benefited more with Arthur in the citadel. 

The baby suddenly kicked sharply. 

She inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ow.”

“Baby kicking?” Gaius asked. 

“Yes,” she replied in a tight voice, before forcing herself to exhale slowly. 

“Gwen!” The door of the chambers opened and Morgana rushed in. “It’s Arthur. He and the knights have been spotted.” 

Gwen sat up, carefully moving Tristain to the ground, before standing. “How far?”

“A half hour, maybe an hour out.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “They have Merlin.”

Gaius stumbled back and fell into a dining table chair. “He’s alive?”

Morgana nodded. 

“Take your brother to the nursery, Aiyla,” Gwen said. 

“I want to see Daddy,” she complained. 

“I know. I know. I will ensure he comes to see you as soon as possible. Please, Aiyla, I need you to do this. Take your brother.”

Aiyla sighed, but did as Gwen said, and left the room with Tristain. 

Gwen covered her mouth, the second they were gone and fell back into the chair. “You are sure?”

“Yes,” Morgana said. “Sir Alfred reported seeing them while scouting.”

Gwen’s heart immediately began to pound. “They have Merlin?”

Morgana nodded, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. “They have him.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “He’s coming home.”

. . .

Arthur had never been more thrilled to see the familiar towers of the citadel. 

They were home. 

“Thank God,” Gwaine muttered. He glanced back at Merlin and attempted a smile. “We’re almost home.”

Merlin remained silent. 

Arthur had given him permission to speak, but no words came from him. 

“You’ll sleep in your bed tonight,” Arthur said quietly. “Gaius will attend to your injuries, and then we’ll start figuring out how to remove the collar.”

More silence. 

Arthur urged his horse forward. 

It wasn’t long until they were passing the guards at the gate, who both stared at Merlin in shock, before hastily bowing to Arthur. 

“The Queen has been alerted, sire,” one of the said. 

“Thank you.” Arthur looked up at the eastern parapet and smiled at the site of Gwen standing with Morgana and Gaius. 

The urge to move faster consumed him, and he urged his horse to move faster. 

They passed through the streets, which steadily became more and more crowded as the people realized that the King had returned. 

Arthur didn’t think much of their presence, other than it being slightly annoying until he heard Merlin’s ragged breathing. His head was in a low bow, with his shoulders hunched over. “Merlin? What’s...” He suddenly realized that the crowds were making Merlin flashback to being in the crowded den, where people were allowed to touch and examine him at all times. “Breathe,” he murmured. “We’re almost there. I’ll keep you safe.”

They finally reached the courtyard. 

“Close the gates,” Leon ordered. 

Arthur dismounted as fast as he could and helped Merlin down. “We’re here. We’re safe. You’re home.”

Merlin lowered himself to his knees and entered a low bow, his limbs trembling as he did so. 

“Arthur!”

Arthur glanced up and held a hand up to Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana, who were all moving quickly toward them.  “Merlin.” He knelt in front of Merlin, whose eyes were wide and filled with the same empty look that Arthur had seen while he was in the cage. “I am sorry about that. I didn’t think about the crowds, and how they would affect you.”

Merlin moved his mouth slightly, but no sound came out. 

Arthur placed his hand gently on his shoulder. “You can speak, remember?”

Merlin swallowed and licked his lips. “Please don’t send me back,” he begged softly. “Please. I’ll be good.”

Emotion squeezed Arthur’s heart and tears pricked his eyes. “We’re not going to send you back. We’re home.” He glanced up at Gaius, who was staring at Merlin with the same heartbroken expression that the knights had all worn at one point. “Gaius is here. Is it okay if I allow him to come closer?”

Merlin frowned in confusion and began to fidget with the hem of his tunic. 

“Just Gaius, okay? I’ll keep everyone else away.” He looked up and gestured Gaius forward. 

Gaius nodded and slowly approached. “Oh Merlin, my boy, I cannot express how glad I am to see you.” 

Merlin hunched further into himself and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Gaius’s expression fell slightly, but he merely took a breath and placed a gentle hand on Merlin’s arm. “Why don’t we go to my chambers where I can get a proper look at you.” His eyes lingered on the collar, and his gaze darkened with understanding. “Come on, up you get.”

Merlin didn’t move. 

Arthur exhaled lowly and cleared his throat. “Get up Merlin. We’re going to go to Gaius’s chambers now.”

Merlin obeyed. 

Gaius wrapped an arm around him, to keep him up and moving, and led the way. 

“I will give you all an update at dinner,” Arthur said to the knights, who had all gathered in a small semi-circle. “Go clean up and rest. Thank you all for your hard work.” He turned immediately to Gwen, who was standing arm-in-arm with Morgana. 

Morgana took one look at his expression and nodded. “I will go with Gaius, and meet you there.” She unlooped her arm from Gwen’s and stepped away. 

Gwen held her hands out for him.

He took them, and pulled her into a hug, carefully pressing his face into the crook of her neck and breathing in. “Gwen...” his voice broke, and tears immediately began to slide down his cheeks. 

She wrapped her arms around him, moving one of her hands to the back of his neck, where she gently scratched his scalp. “You found him.”

“In hell.”

“He’s alive.”

“I wish he would have been killed.”

She pulled away and looked at him. “What?”

He shook his head. “It’s...they...” he closed his eyes, and told her as much as he could, as fast as he could. How they collared him, took his autonomy, bound his magic - oh, by the way, he has magic, beat him, raped him, starved him, caged him. 

She was in tears by the time he was done and swaying slightly. 

Arthur dashed away his tears angrily and sniffed. “You should be resting.”

“I am fine,” she assured. 

He looked down at her belly and placed his hand on it. “I don’t know how to help him,” he murmured. 

She placed her hands on his cheeks and wiped away the tears that continued to leak from his eyes. “I think we take this a day at a time. We cannot rush healing, especially after something so catastrophic as this. It will take some time.”

He nodded and moved his hands around until he felt the pressure of the baby. “Yes,” he murmured. 

“We will give him everything that he requires.”

He nodded again. 

She tilted his head gently, prompting him to shift his gaze to hers. “But we also allow him the space to deal with everything. We cannot crowd him.”

“I know,” he said softly. 

She nodded and leaned in to kiss him. “Good.”

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I should go to Gaius’s chambers.”

“Yes, you probably should.”

“Where will you be?”

“The nursery, I expect. Aiyla and Tristain are anxious to see you.”

A rush of warmth spread from his heart at the thought of seeing his children. “I will come by as soon as Merlin is situated.”

“Good.”

He kissed her again. “I will see you later.” He backed away from her, holding her hand until she was out of reach. 

Merlin was kneeling on the ground of Gaius’s chambers when Arthur arrived. 

Arthur knew immediately that he had switched to default, too afraid to do anything else. 

“I need him to sit on the table,” Gaius explained softly. “I know that the collar binds him to you and your orders.”

“You recognize it then?”

“I have read about such collars that were used in the days before the purge. They were a barbaric way for the High Priestesses to control unwilling victims.”

“Do you know of a way to remove it?”

“Not off the top of my head. I will look once I have finished looking over him.”

Arthur nodded and turned his attention to Merlin. “You need to get on the table, Merlin, so that Gaius can help you.”

Merlin obeyed, and rose to his feet, climbing stiffly onto the table. 

Gaius took a moment to put on a clinical expression, before stepping forward. “I’m going to remove your tunic so that I can get a good look at you.” He reached for the hem of Merlin’s tunic and carefully lifted it over Merlin’s head, maneuvering Merlin like he would a doll. “Oh, my boy,” he murmured, at the sight of the cuts, abrasions, and bruises that littered Merlin’s chest and torso. “My poor boy.”

One look at Merlin, and Arthur knew that he had completely shut down. 

He had been offering himself to the Knights, whenever he felt like he had done something worth him being abused for, but that didn’t mean that being bare in front of others was comfortable. In fact, it was the exact opposite. His eyes were glazed and guarded as he stared at the far wall, and his chest was still as he held his breath in anticipation. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Morgana whispered. 

Arthur glanced at where she was standing. “It might be better if you came back after.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“If you two are going to be in here, then you are going to need to help,” Gaius said. 

“Of course,” Morgana said quickly. 

“Anything," Arthur added. 

“Pour the water from the pitcher over the fire into a bowl, and get a towel.”

Morgana grabbed the towel, while Arthur carefully grabbed the pitcher and poured the water into a bowl. 

Gaius immediately set to work cleaning Merlin’s skin. 

Arthur and Morgana helped by keeping the water and towels fresh and clean. 

A heavy silence settled in the room, as scars from the year of torture slowly began to appear. 

Morgana kept her tears at bay, but Arthur caught the slight tremor of her hands, as she handed Gaius his supplies. 

“I need him on his side,” Gaius said softly. 

Arthur could tell that he didn’t want to do the next part of his examination, but it was necessary. Guilt settled heavily into his gut, but he shoved it aside. “Merlin, I need you to lay down on your left side, and press your legs to your chest.”

Merlin’s expression shattered slightly, but he did as he was ordered, and shifted to his side, curling his legs against his chest. 

Gaius kept his examination as quick, clinical, and non-invasive as he could. 

Arthur folded his arms tightly across his chest and did his best to not put an end to it all. 

“Okay.”

“Sit up," Arthur ordered as soon as Gaius backed away. 

Merlin obeyed. 

His eyes were even more empty than they had been. 

Gaius grabbed a familiar blue shirt, and gently eased it over Merlin’s head. “You did good,” he murmured. He looked at Arthur. “Does he need your permission to sleep?”

Arthur nodded. “You can sleep, Merlin.”

The effect was immediate. 

Merlin’s body began to sway, and his eyelids drooped close. 

Arthur moved forward and lifted him from the table. “His bedroom?”

“Yes.”

Gaius followed Arthur up the stairs and pulled the blanket away for Arthur to lower Merlin down. “I will come back to check on you soon.”

Merlin’s eyes closed in response. 

“He’s going to have a nightmare,” Arthur said softly. 

“I know. That is the collar.”

Arthur frowned at Gaius. “It is?”

“Yes. It’s a way to break down the mind and punish the wearer.”

“Why is it punishing him?”

“To keep him afraid, and controlled. Fear is a weapon that can be used to easily manipulate a person.”

Arthur shook his head and gripped his hilt for a moment. “I should have killed them.”

Gaius didn’t say anything. 

The two of them walked down to the main chambers, where Morgana was cleaning up. 

“There is something I need to discuss,” Arthur said. 

“What is it?”

Arthur leaned against the table. “Merlin has magic.”

Gaius turned sharply to stare at him, but it was Morgana who spoke. 

“How did you find out?”

Arthur turned to look at her. “You knew?”

“Of course, I knew.”

Arthur opened his mouth several times, before any words managed to get out. “How long have you known?”

She shrugged. “A few years?”

“How long is a few?”

“Seven...eight?”

“And you never told me?”

“Well, given that you’re shouting at me, I know I made the right decision.”

“I am not shouting!”

“You are, sire,” Gaius said calmly. “And I would ask that you not, for Merlin’s sake.”

Arthur forced himself to breathe through the rush of emotions that was currently going through him. “How did you find out?”

“He saved my life,” Gaius answered. 

“He told me his secret when I told him mine,” Morgana said. 

“And what would that be?”

Morgana hugged herself and stared at the ground for a few seconds. “I also have magic.”

Chapter Text

“I also have magic.”

Arthur was too exhausted to say anything - too exhausted to do anything, except stare at Morgana. 

Emotion stirred in his chest - anger, betrayal, confusion. 

Silence filled the room, tense and heavy. 

“Are you going to say something?” Morgana asked after a long moment. 

What was he supposed to say? 

The woman who may as well be his sister had just confessed to having magic. She was practically Uther’s daughter, raised in the heart of Camelot, by the laws that Uther enforced. 

How could she have magic? 

How could two of the people he trusted most in the world have magic? 

“Arthur?”

He couldn’t deal with it. 

Not right then, at least. 

“I...am going to go see my wife and children.”

Shock immediately appeared on Morgana’s face. “You are? Now?”

“Yes.” He glanced at Gaius. “The collar should allow him to sleep for a couple of hours before nightmares set in. Send for me when they do.”

Gaius nodded solemnly. “Yes, your majesty.”

He looked back at Morgana, who was watching him expectantly. “I...um...I will talk to you later.”

“Arthur-”

He ignored her and left the chambers. 

His mind was racing with thoughts on what he was supposed to do with the knowledge he now had and the knowledge his father had taught him. 

Magic was evil. 

It was dangerous and corrupt. 

And yet, two of the kindest, good people that he knew had it. 

There was the chance that his father had been wrong to persecute all things magic, but Arthur was ready to think about that yet. 

His feet carried him down the familiar path of corridors to the nursery - the room that had become his favorite to be in. 

He saw a glimpse of brown hair when he pushed the door open before Aiyla’s arms were wrapped firmly around his waist. "Oh," he wrapped his arms around her, and slowly lowered to his knees so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. 

Relief washed over him.

He was home. 

“Hey there, little bird,” he murmured. He turned his head and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Daddy!” Tristan hurried over and wiggled into Arthur’s arms, essentially displacing Aiyla. 

Arthur chuckled and wrapped his arms around Tristain. “My little warrior.” He placed a kiss on his cheek as well. “Were the two of you good for your mother while I was gone?”

“Yes,” Aiyla answered. “I was on my best behavior, but Tristain put salt in the cook’s pie.”

“Is that true?” 

“No I didn’t,” Tristan answered immediately. 

“Yes, you did. I saw you.”

Arthur looked up at Gwen, who was sitting in the rocking chair across the room watching the three of them with a look of fondness in her eyes. 

God, she was beautiful. 

Aiyla and Tristain were now completely bickering with each other on whether or Tristain had put salt in the pies or not. 

“That’s enough,” Arthur said, returning his attention to the two children. 

They stopped and turned to face him. 

He took a brief moment to marvel at them. 

Aiyla, with her mother’s bronze skin, brown hair, and dark eyes that seemed wiser than their age. Tristan with his blonde curly hair and blue eyes that shined with mischief. At the moment, Aiyla stood taller than Tristain, but Arthur had the feeling that it wouldn’t be long until he shot up and towered over her. 

“Did you bring Uncle Merlin home?” Aiyla asked. 

“I did.”

“Can I go see him?”

His heart twinged slightly. How was he supposed to explain Merlin’s situation to them? How could he make them understand the depth of the pain that he was in? 

“Not right now.” He took both of their hands. “Merlin is hurt really bad right now, so we need to give him some time before we see him.”

“Wouldn’t a hug make him feel better?” Aiyla asked. 

God, how was she so pure? 

Arthur laughed weakly and shook his head. “It probably would, but not right now.” He placed his hand on her cheeks. “Perhaps later, though.” He kissed her cheek again. “Now, why don’t the two of you go with Emmaline, and clean up for dinner, while I talk with your mother?”

Emmaline, their nursemaid, stepped forward and held her hands out to the two of them. “Come along, children.”

“Go on,” Arthur prompted. “I will see you both at dinner.”

It was clear that Aiyla wanted to protest, but instead, she grabbed Tristain’s hand and followed Emmaline from the room.

“They miss you when you leave,” Gwen said softly. 

Arthur nodded, and pushed himself up, in order to cross the room to where she was sitting. “I know.” He knelt in front of her and slipped his hands into hers. “I miss them.”

She brushed a finger through his hair. “How is Merlin?”

“He’s...I don’t know. Gaius seemed content enough to allow him to sleep. I don’t know what his plan is for treatment, but I’m confident that he will think of something. He said he’d look around for a way to remove the collar as well.” 

Gwen nodded and leaned back in her chair. “How can people be so cruel?” 

“I’ve been asking myself the same question, ever since I found him,” Arthur replied softly. He rested his forehead against her stomach and closed his eyes. His eyes ached with exhaustion. All he wanted to do was climb into his bed and pass out. But he knew that his mind wouldn’t let him. There was too much to do - too much to think about. “There I something I think you should know, and if you tell me that you already know it, I might cry.”

Gwen laughed lightly and lifted his chin. “What is it?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Morgana told me that she also has magic.”

Gwen stared at him for a moment, before a small look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say? Oh?”

“Well, it makes sense.”

“How does it make sense?”

“Think about it, Arthur,” she said patiently. “The fire in her bedroom, all those years ago? The smashing of vases and plates. I can now understand more fully the depth of her relationship with Merlin, given what you told me earlier.”

“Why are you so calm right now?”

“Because I feel like I’m finally seeing the full picture. Merlin’s magic makes more sense when you think back on all the strange occurrences of ‘luck’ that suddenly began to happen once the two of you met. The night of that fire in Morgana’s bedroom is what brought the two of them together. You know how inseparable they’ve been. Now we understand why.”

“Yeah, they were both blatantly breaking the law,” Arthur muttered. 

“The law that your father put in place after your mother died,” Gwen said softly. She shifted slightly and rested a hand on her stomach. “Do you remember what you told me after you went on that quest to the Isle of the Blessed to meet Morgause?”

Arthur thought back to that day, remembering keenly the sharp feelings of betrayal that had come with the conversation he had had with his mother. No. It wasn’t his mother. It was a trick. Or so Merlin had said, to stop him from killing the King. “My mother died because of my father’s desire for an heir,” he murmured. 

“Yes.”

“Merlin said it was a trick,” he murmured. “That I didn’t really see her. Why would Merlin stop me? He had the chance to put an end to the ban against magic, and he stopped me.”

“You were young, Arthur, and unprepared to live without your father. Think about it. Would you have wanted the stain of Uther’s blood to tarnish your ascension to the throne? Merlin sacrificed his own freedom to save you from killing your father.”

“He knew it was true,” Arthur murmured. “He knew that I had seen my mother and that what she had said to me was real.” A sudden emptiness consumed Arthur. “My father killed my mother, and blamed it on magic,” the words tasted bitter in Arthur’s mouth. “He was too obsessed to conceive an heir, to continue the Pendragon dynasty, that he didn’t even hesitate to offer up my mother as the price to pay.” His eyes drifted to her pregnant stomach, and a sudden fear gripped his heart. “Was I just as desperate?”

“No,” Gwen said quickly. “Arthur, how could you even think that? Our children are born strictly from love. They are beautiful, pure, and healthy. I am happy to have been a vessel in which to continue the Pendragon Dynasty because it is your dynasty. They are your legacy. Your future. They are magic in and of themselves.” She placed her hand on his cheek and thumbed away the tear that leaked from his eye. “I wish your mother had not died the way that she did, but I promise you that her story and mine are vastly different.” 

Her words lessened the grip of fear around his heart. He turned his head slightly and placed a kiss on her palm. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

He rested his head against her stomach again, and closed her eyes, relaxing slightly as she began to run her fingers through his hair. “That wasn’t the only time that Merlin had the opportunity to show the truth about magic,” he murmured. “He has lived by my side - same as Morgana, for years, hiding secrets that would have them executed.”

“Are you so surprised that they would rather stay with you than leave here?”  Gwen asked softly. 

“Yes.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m not.” She bent down and kissed the back of his head. “Not in the slightest.”

They remained like that for several minutes, before the sound of someone knocking at the door pulled them out of their reverie. 

Arthur lifted his head. “Enter.”

Morgana pushed the door open and stuck her head in. “It’s Merlin.”

“Already?” 

She nodded grimly. “It’s bad,” she whispered. 

“Go,” Gwen said. “I will tell Aiyla and Tristain that you will tuck them into bed. And save you some dinner,” she added with a smile. 

“You are an angel.” He pushed himself up, bent down, and kissed her, before following Morgana from the nursery. “What happened?”

“It was like you said, he woke up in the throws of a nightmare. Gaius and I managed to wake him fully, but he panicked when he realized that he was on the bed. At least I think that’s why he panicked. He scrambled off at it as fast as he could and is currently kneeling with his head to the ground.”

“Oh, damn it.” Arthur picked up his pace, and the two of them all but ran to Gaius’s chambers. 

Merlin was kneeling, just as Morgana described, with his forehead pressed to the ground and his body trembling. 

Artur’s heart felt the familiar ache. Merlin was home, he was in the familiarity of his chambers, and yet the nightmares of the past year were tainting his perception of his situation. 

Gaius looked at Arthur when he entered, his expression drawn and stricken. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Arthur said. “Please, give me the room.”

Morgana gave Merlin one last heartbroken look, before leaving the room with her hands over her mouth. 

“Gaius,” Arthur prompted softly. 

Gaius stared at Merlin for another moment, before leaving as well. 

Arthur sighed and studied Merlin. 

How was he supposed to do this? 

“Merlin,” he said softly. 

Merlin flinched and shrunk into himself. 

“Merlin, I need you to listen to me.” He slowly lowered himself to the ground. “You are not going to be hurt. I know you're confused and scared, but I need you to understand that everything is okay now. You are home. You are safe. No one is going to touch you or hurt you.”

Merlin didn’t move. 

“You can sit up.” 

A long moment passed before Merlin sat up. He raised his shoulders, but his head remained bowed. 

“How can I help you?” He asked softly. “What do you need? I will do anything to make this as easy for you as possible, but I need to know - I need to understand what you need.”

Merlin slowly lifted his head and stared at Arthur, his eyes shining with fear and mistrust. 

“You can speak,” Arthur prompted. 

Merlin licked his lips nervously. “I’ll be good.”

Arthur was starting to hate those words. 

“I know,” he said. “But you don’t have to be.”

Merlin’s eyes shined with confusion. 

“You are probably still tired.” 

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he shook his head fervently. 

“You’re not?” Arthur asked, despite clearly seeing the evident signs that pointed to the fact that Merlin was exhausted. “They didn’t let you sleep that often, did they?”

He shook his head. 

“Right.” They more than likely punished him for the mere thought of sleeping. “And the nightmares probably don’t help either.”

Another, fearful shake of his head. 

Arthur was at a complete loss for what to do. “I need you to help me out here, Merlin. There has to be a way for you to rest without being tormented.”

A sudden look of nervousness suddenly washed over Merlin. He bowed his head and hunched his shoulders slightly. 

Dread seeped into Arthur’s stomach. “What is it? Tell me.” 

Merlin flinched at the order.

“No, I didn’t-”

It was too late, the order had been given. 

Merlin suddenly tipped his head back and opened his mouth, before putting two fingers in and sliding them out. 

The dread turned to nausea, at the stark clearness of what Merlin was showing. 

“You’re telling me that the only way for you to receive relief from the nightmares is if you are abused like that?”

Merlin lowered his head and nodded. 

Instant rage burned through Arthur. “No. Absolutely not.” He shot to his feet. “I will not stoop to their level and do that to you.”

Merlin shrunk into himself and returned to the bowed position, his limbs resuming their usual tremble. 

Arthur’s own limbs were beginning to tremble as well. 

He could barely think straight. 

“There is another option, and we will find it. I will find it before I do anything like that to you.”

Merlin remained silent. 

Arthur’s heart was pounding, and his breath was coming in heavy gasps. “Morgana and Gaius are down there. They will look after you. I will send a servant with some food for the three of you.”

Merlin didn’t move. 

“You are allowed to rest, speak, cry, move, relieve yourself, whatever. I-I don’t care. Just...I will be back.”

He needed to get out of the room - out of the moment, he had suddenly found himself in. 

“We will find a way to remove the collar,” he found himself saying, as he realized that Merlin was crying. “I promise, Merlin.” He took one last look at him, before leaving. 

He needed to think. 

He needed to breathe. 

He needed to exist in a world where the only way to allow his friend to sleep peacefully wasn't to rape him. 

Chapter Text

Arthur paced most of that night, too worked up and agitated to do anything else. 

Gwen sat in the chair by the fire and quietly watched as his feet carried him from one end of the room to the other, and back again. 

It had been that way since she had returned from tucking the children in, after dinner. 

He hadn’t said a word, and she knew better than to pressure him. 

He would speak when he was ready. 

“The collar is tormenting his mind.”

Gwen opened her eyes, lifted her head from the back of the chair, and looked at Arthur. “What was that?” She yawned involuntarily and rubbed her eyes. “Arthur?”

Arthur’s back was to her, as he stared moodily into the dying embers of the fire. “I don’t know, and I don’t know why, but something about the collar is refusing to let him rest properly until...he-he fulfills some sort of...I don’t even know what it is...but...” He shook his head angrily and started to pace again. 

Gwen leaned back again and waited. 

“The collar won’t let him rest unless he is...” Arthur stopped again and licked his lips. “Unless he is...”

Gwen suddenly realized the words that he was unable to say and felt her heart sink. “Oh, Merlin,” she murmured. Nausea settled into her gut. She placed her hand on her stomach, and closed her eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths.

Arthur slowly turned to look at her, seeming to see her for the first time since he walked in. “He can’t rest, Gwen. The collar only allows him a couple hours of sleep, before it forces horrors onto his mind. And the only way to stop it is to...to...” He covered his mouth and looked down. “I can’t even say it.”

Gwen nodded slowly, the very idea of the word tasting sour in her mouth. “What do we do?” 

Arthur shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know.” He fell into a chair and put his face in his hands. “This is a nightmare.” 

Gwen didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent and rested her head against the back of the chair again. 

Several minutes ticked by. 

A heavy silence had fallen between them, broken only by Arthur’s occasional muttered cursing. 

“It’s late,” he finally murmured. 

Gwen opened her eyes and looked at him. “It is.”

“We should rest.”

“Probably," she agreed.

His gaze met hers and softened. “I’m sorry for keeping you awake.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Arthur. I’m just as angry and worried as you are. There’s a way to help Merlin, and we’ll find it. You found him, after all, and brought him home. We’ll figure it out.”

He shook his head and looked down. “I don’t know,” he whispered. 

Gwen’s heart broke at the despair that was weighing down on him. “I sent a rider to Ealdor to bring Hunith to Camelot.”

Arthur’s head shot up. “I hadn’t even thought about her.”

He had sent word to Hunith two days after Merlin had disappeared. She had shown up in Camelot a day later, insisting on joining in the search for him. She remained in the city for one heartbreaking month, before resigning herself that he was truly gone, and leaving. 

Arthur did his best to maintain contact with her, but as the year lengthened he found it easier to let the communication drop. 

“I know,” Gwen said softly. “Which is why I took care of it.”

“Thank you.” He could hardly imagine what her reaction was going to be and was already preparing for the response that was going to come when she saw the state of her son. 

She smiled softly at him. 

Arthur massaged his hands down his face and pressed his fingers into his eyes. 

It was a mess. 

He knew things were going to be hard once they returned, but his mind was struggling to comprehend the actual depth that they were in. 

Yes, Merlin was home. But he was far from being comfortable or even remotely himself. 

Arthur still didn’t know if that version of Merlin even existed anymore. 

“You’re tired,” Gwen commented softly. 

Arthur removed his hands and nodded.  “I’m exhausted,” he muttered. 

He nodded again, and pushed himself to his feet, to cross the room and hold his hand out to Gwen. “Here.”

She accepted it and allowed him to pull her into a standing position. Her balance wavered, and she swayed slightly, prompting him to wrap a firm around her back. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. 

She leaned heavily against him, as the two crossed the room to their bed. “Tomorrow is a new day,” she said softly, as the two climbed under their covers. “We’ll take things as they come and figure out the best route of helping him through all of this.”

“I hate seeing him like this,” Arthur murmured. “I feel helpless.”

“I know.” Gwen settled on her left side and placed her hand on Arthur’s cheek. “Try and sleep,” she said softly. 

Arthur rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 

The bed felt too soft beneath him, and the blankets too heavy. 

He doubted sleep would come. 

Not when his mind insisted on dwelling on Merlin’s expression of pain and fear. 

. . . 

Hunith arrived at dawn. 

One moment Arthur was in a restless sleep, the next he was being shaken awake by Leon, who had crouched next to him. 

“Mmmph. What is it?” Arthur rubbed his eyes and lifted his head. “Leon?”

“Merlin’s mother is in the council hall.”

“Merlin’s mother...” Arthur frowned as his mind struggled to put together the situation. And then he remembered. Everything. “Right.” He sat up and swung his legs over the edge. “Right.” His mind was still struggling to grasp the situation. “Uh...tell her I will be with her shortly.”

Leon nodded and swept from the room. 

“What’s going on?” Gwen murmured, sleep still in her voice. 

“Hunith has arrived.” Arthur took a moment to rub his eyes. “They must have ridden through the night.” Arthur turned and leaned down to kiss her. “Go back to sleep.”

Her hand settled on the back of his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He brushed her curls from her face. “I will try to see you at breakfast.” He pulled the blankets up and tucked them around her. He then changed as fast as he could and hurried out of the room. 

Hunith was pacing, when he arrived. “Where is he?” She demanded the second he walked in. “Where’s Merlin.”

“With Gaius.”

She immediately moved to walk past him, but he held his hand up. “Wait.”

“You might be king, Arthur Pendragon, but you are not stopping me from seeing my son.”

“I have no intention of stopping you,” he replied calmly. “But I do intend to warn you. You need to prepare yourself for what to expect from him. 

She stared at him for a long moment, before her expression fell and she sighed heavily. “Tell me.” She stepped away from him. “Tell me everything.”

“I think we should sit down for that. It’s...a lot.”

She hesitated, before walking to the table and lowering herself gingerly into the nearest chair. 

Arthur followed her and sat perpendicular to her. “Okay. I’m going to get the worst bit out first, alright? He was held and...tortured in a...a slaver den.”

Hunith’s hands flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened in horror. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no. Not Merlin. Not my boy.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

She placed her face in her hands. “Oh...Merlin...” She inhaled deeply, before removing her hands and looking at Arthur again. “Keep going.”

“When I arrived at the den, I found him locked in a cage. A slaver explained to me that he had been trained in all...aspects of slavery. These include servitude, labor, battle...” His voice failed him. He couldn’t say it. Not to Hunith. He choked and stuttered for a moment, before finally getting his voice to work. “Pleasure.”

Hunith placed her face in her hands again and gripped the roots of her hair. Moments later, her shoulders were shaking with sobs. 

Arthur let her cry. 

He couldn’t imagine the pain she was feeling. The rage and helplessness that was probably consuming her. He didn’t know what he would do if anyone laid so much as a finger on Aiyla or Tristain. 

Several minutes passed, before Hunith removed her hands, wiping her cheeks as she did. “What else,” she asked. 

Arthur brushed his hands under his eyes. “Uh...they put a collar on him that...well...it binds him to his...master. Which is me. He is unable to...essentially function without permission from me.

"He cannot eat, sleep, move, speak, relieve himself...anything, really, without waiting for my permission. I’ve discovered that it is something that is renewed every day. It also forces him to obey every order I give him. If he resists, then the collar hurts him. I-I think it burns him. Gaius is looking for a way to remove it, but the slaver mentioned that the only one to take it off is the one who put it on.”

Hunith’s expression fell again. 

She cried for another few minutes. 

Arthur let her. 

There were few words that he could offer her as comfort, so he decided that silence was the better approach.

After a while, she wiped her cheeks. “Anything else?”

Arthur didn’t want to tell her the rest. 

He couldn’t tell her the rest. 

He had to. 

“I don’t know how it works, exactly, but...the collar is also restricting him from sleeping through the night without nightmares. I asked him why last night and he...well...in not so many words, made it clear that the only way the collar will allow him to sleep peacefully is if he is...well...used...sexually.”

A pained noise escaped Hunith’s lips. “Oh, my boy." She hid her face in her hands again. "My poor boy." She shook her head, and took several deep breaths, before lowering her hands. "What else?” 

“The uh, the slaver that I mentioned...explained to me that the collar also binds his...magic.”

Hunith’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Merlin has magic,” Arthur explained dumbly. 

“Yes, I know. He’s had it since he was born. The collar binds it?”

Arthur nodded, forcing the conversation about his magic to the back of his mind. “He is unable to use it against me, or without my will. If he does then the collar punishes him for it.”

“He can’t use his magic,” Hunith said softly. 

“No.”

“Damn them.” She shook her head and looked down at her hands. “I know the law, Arthur. As did Merlin, when he came here. But something you need to understand is that using magic is the same as breathing for him. If he is unable to do so, then it is like constantly having to hold his breath. Can you understand that?”

“I think so,” Arthur said softly. 

“I’m sorry he lied to you about it.”

Arthur stared at her in shock. “You’re apologizing to me? I just explained all the ways that Merlin was brutalized for the past year, and you’re apologizing. I should be apologizing to you. Merlin was under my care - my protection. It was my job to keep him safe. The slavers never should have had the chance to take him. I should have found him sooner. I-”

Hunith reached out and placed her hand over Arthur’s. “I know how hard you looked for him. I know how fiercely you fought to protect him. What happened to him...none of it was your fault.”

“Hunith-”

“I’m serious, Arthur. I am angry right now. Furious. But that anger is not directed at you. Not when you found him and got him out of that horrid situation. I cannot imagine what that must have cost you.” She brushed her fingers under her eyes. “I would like to see him, now. Unless there’s anything else that I need to know.”

“There's more, but I'm still figuring it all out myself. He's terrified and submissive. I can't seem to convince him that he's safe, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to. I'll just...I'll take you to him."

Hunith chewed her lip for a moment, seeming to work hard at not letting her emotions get the better of her.

The two of them stood and walked through the halls, passing several rushing servants hurrying to get jobs done before the rest of the castle woke up. 

“Brace yourself,” Arthur warned softly, once they reached the door to Gaius’s chambers.

Hunith nodded, her jaw tightening with her resolve. 

Arthur pushed the door open and stepped in. 

A keen sense of despair seeped into him at the site of Merlin curled up in the corner of the room, and both Gaius and Morgana slumped at the table. 

The room was in shambles

“What happened?” 

Morgana lifted her head. “The collar,” she murmured. “We tried to keep him calm and comfortable, but the collar refused to let him relax. I don't know why, but his magic kept flaring up, which caused the collar to react. It's...it's been a long night."

“You should have sent for me.”

“You needed the rest,” Gaius said. “He calmed down a half hour ago.” His gaze shifted to Hunith, and his eyes widened. “Hunith?” 

Hunith’s gaze was fixed on Merlin, who had yet to move or react. “He’s so small,” she whispered. 

Gaius stood and clasped his hands in front of himself. “Did Arthur tell you what...?”

Hunith nodded, her hand taking its place over her mouth. 

Arthur looked at Merlin, just as the collar suddenly burned red. “Shit! Stop!”

Merlin immediately reacted, his body writhing in pain and his mouth opening in a silent scream. 

“Stop!” Arthur couldn’t imagine why it was suddenly punishing Merlin, but he was desperate to put an end to it. "Please!"

The collar finally cooled, allowing Merlin to slump to the ground. 

A heavy tension settled in the room. 

“What just happened?” Hunith demanded. 

"I don't...I don't know. I'm still trying to figure the collar out,” Arthur admitted weakly. “I-I’m sorry.”

Merlin raised his head and looked at Arthur, before hurrying into the bowed position. 

Hunith released a quiet sob. 

“You can go to him,” Arthur prompted. 

Hunith nodded, and slowly crossed the room in order to kneel next to her son. “Merlin,” she said softly. 

“You can sit up, Merlin,” Arthur said. “You can speak, move, eat, cry, relieve yourself - whatever you want, alright? It’s okay.”

Merlin twitched slightly and slowly raised his head. His eyes widened at the site of Hunith, and his mouth moved soundlessly. 

“You can speak,” Arthur prompted. “Remember?”

Hunith reached out with a slightly trembling hand and ran her finger under the hair that covered Merlin’s forehead. “I’m here, Merlin,” she said softly. “I have you now.”

Tears welled up in Merlin's eyes, and moments later spilled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, my boy.” Hunith reached out and pulled him carefully into her arms. “I have you.” She arranged him so he was folded in her lap, with his face buried in her chest. “I have you.”

Arthur glanced at Morgana and wordlessly agreed to back out of the room. 

“Well, that was utterly heartbreaking,” Morgana commented softly. 

Arthur nodded in agreement. “Go rest.” He rubbed his eyes, which were aching slightly. “You’ve had a long night.”

Morgana nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. “It was awful,” she whispered. 

“I know it was. I uh...I can imagine just exactly how it was.” He looked down at the ground. “Getting him here was equally just as much of a nightmare.”

“This entire situation is a nightmare. I keep wishing I'll wake up. I don’t understand how people could be so cruel to another human being. Especially Merlin.” Her voice broke slightly. “Arthur...”

Arthur looked up, immediately noticing the tears shining in her eyes. “Oh, Morgana-”

“I love him.”

“I know.”

“You-you know?” She frowned at him in confusion. “You know?”

“I know. The magic bit might have gone under my nose, but you two didn’t. I’ve known about the two of you for years. Ever since I caught him sneaking flowers to you.”

“Oh.” Morgana looked away from him, her cheeks turning slightly red. “We were going to tell you,” she said, her arms folding around herself. “We just...we liked having it as a secret. It was...romantic. Fun.”

“You don’t have to explain to me the allure of having a secret relationship,” Arthur said softly. 

Morgana’s mouth twitched slightly. She turned back to look at the door, and her expression fell. “He’s through the door, but I feel like he’s still a million miles away.”

“I know. I miss him too.”

“Do you think we’ll ever get him back?”

Arthur’s heart sank at the question that he had been mulling over for days. “I don’t know,” he answered softly. “I honestly don’t. The things they did to him...I don’t know if there’s any coming back from that, for anyone. I want to believe that he’s strong and that he come to overcome this, but...”

Morgana nodded grimly. “But,” she whispered. 

The two stood in silence for a while, staring at the door that separated them from the scene of Merlin being held and comforted by his weeping mother.

. . . 

The throne room was cold. 

Darak drew his cloak closer around himself and glanced at the half-naked slave kneeling at his feet. “You might as well get used to this cold,” he said. “You ain’t leaving it ever again.”

The man remained silent and wrapped his arms around himself. 

“Well, well, well. Look who had the balls to come back.” Cenred walked in from the side door and stared coldly at the two. “I expected you two days ago.”

“My apologies.” Darak bowed his head. “The auction was postponed.”

“I see.” Cenred lowered himself into his throne. “Is that him?”

“I’m afraid not, sire. I was unable to procure the warlock for you.”

Cenred’s gaze hardened slightly. “Why not?”

“I was outbid.”

“By who?”

“I didn’t catch his name, but he and his men claimed to be mercenaries. I tried to trade for the warlock, but he wouldn’t accept the offer.”

Cenred’s gaze flicked to the slave, and he scoffed. “I can hardly blame him. Tell me why you brought that filth into my castle.”

Darak shrugged helplessly and attempted to ignore the flutter of nerves in his gut. “I didn’t want to return empty-handed.”

“Hmm. So you brought me another worthless piece of shit.”

“I was told that this was is-”

Cenred grabbed a dagger from his belt and threw it at the slave, nailing him directly in the chest. 

The man groaned and fell to his side. Dead.  

“You’re lucky I didn’t dispose of you.”

Darak dropped the end of the chain he had been holding and forced himself to nod. “Yes, sire. Thank you.”

“You’re also lucky that I don’t make you take his place.”

Darak forced another nod and lowered his gaze. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

“Now make yourself useful and tell me what direction these Mercenaries were headed.”

“North. Toward the Camelot border.”

“Camelot? Slavery is banned in Camelot. As is magic.” Cenred pushed himself up and slowly approached Darak. “Are you sure?” He bent down and removed the dagger from the slave's chest. 

Darak forced himself to remain calm, and nodded. “Yes,” he answered softly. 

Cenred grabbed the end of Darak’s cloak and used it to wipe the blade clean. “Interesting. What did the men look like? How many were there?” 

“Six. They were... well-built. Strong. Well dressed and groomed.”

Cenred hummed softly and began to drag the tip of the blade gently across Darak’s chin and cheeks. “Could they have been knights?”

Darak swallowed nervously. “Knights?”

The knife dug into his skin. 

Darak forced himself to remain still. 

“Knights of Camelot, perhaps.”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll simply have to find out.” Cenred sliced his blade across Darak’s cheek, drawing a hiss from his mouth as he felt the skin part. 

“How will you find out?” 

Cenred moved away from him. “I have spies within the ranks of Arthur’s men. They will look around for me, and confirm my suspicions.”

“Would you like me to go there as well?”

Cenred barked out a laugh and sat down. “No. You’ve proved yourself to be useless. I have no more need of you.”
“I-”

“That was your cue to leave,” Cenred said before Darak could argue. “I would suggest taking it before I truly decide to turn you into the worthless scum we both know you actually are.”

Darak closed his mouth with a click and nodded. “Yes, sire.” He bowed lowly and hurried from the room.