~ 1k reads?! You guys are amazing, and I am forever astounded by your support. Thank you all so much x ~

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Merlin's stomach flipped nauseatingly as Morgana stepped closer - her sly smile perfunctorily hiding oozing threat and menace - and stooped to gloat. She laughed deliriously - an unsettling sound in the still air, a chime that was far from pleasant - at the notion of her wounded, pathetically dependant brother; and at the servant's attempt to hold him closer.

"You do love him." She gushed warmly, a sickeningly jubilant smile twisted upon her lips. It wasn't a question, but a statement. Merlin bit his lip, not trusting his throat to form a word that wouldn't emerge a sob. Rejecting the boy's fearful silence, Morgana pouted innocently, her keen, exultant eyes penetrating and sharp.

Unable to face her, Merlin looked away - his cheeks paling as the unfathomable, unescapable horror of the situation struck him.

"That's... perfect."

Merlin's mind scrambled for some sense of direction; an escape, perhaps. It would be suicide to use magic; they were outnumbered, outmatched and outwitted. Not to mention Morgana herself - Merlin shuddered to think of the witch's furious onslaught.

Upon realising it was futile to do anything but plead for Arthur's safety, Merlin began to beg. "Morgana--"

"No, Merlin. I have waited far too long for this." A soft scold interrupted Merlin, mocking him unforgivingly as her eyes glittered with dangerous delight. She advanced forward - to which Merlin winced and leaned away, trying to distance himself from her cold aura. Morgana smiled dotingly, seeming almost to take pleasure from the fear that manifested in the eyes of the serving boy.

Merlin could fathom no hope of escape, and he was beginning to grow desperate.

Moreover, the thought of Arthur discovering his secret... No. Not now. Though the Prince barely gripped consciousness, Merlin grieved to imagine the betrayal Arthur might feel. Would he think that it was Merlin - the secret sorcerer - who had surrender their whereabouts to the bandits, and betrayed his most loyal friends? Discreetly, Merlin lowered his head and glanced at his friend - immediately dismayed to see glazed, half-lidded eyes as Arthur slipped weakly into unconsciousness.

As though Merlin had voiced his turmoil aloud, Morgana cleared her throat.

"Oh- how could I forget? The terms and conditions are the most important thing." The witch prowled closer as she drawled tauntingly; a cruel, unfettered smile gracing her pale lips. "Although I am always greatly impressed, and... mystified by your gifts, Merlin, I'm going to have to ask you to restrain yourself. Let me make this clear - you use magic, and I will show you what royal-blood really looks like."

Each word was spat like poison, a promise so dangerously genuine, Merlin harboured no doubt in the truth of the witch's threat. Simultaneously, the pair of sorcerers looked at Arthur - one glance so soft and worried, the other a fiery, appeased glare that jubilantly lingered on the Prince's maimed shoulder.

"In fact, a single step out of place might piss me off enough to do something wicked." She crowed, aware that Merlin believed her; this alone feeding her ravenous heart.

However - as if to cement her presage - Morgana nodded sharply to her closest accomplice, who - without hesitation - lunged towards Arthur, mercilessly wrapping his beaten hands around the knight's chest. Merlin gasped and desperately clutched at chainmail, but it was useless - spurred by ruthless uncaring, the man brutally drove his heel into Merlin's face. Instant, blinding pain erupted and unwelcome tears flooded Merlin's eyes as he cried out and clutched at his nose, blood seeping between his shaking fingers.

The comforting weight was torn from his chest as Arthur was negligently snatched away. Through a hazy visage of tears, Merlin glimpsed the limp body being dragged unceremoniously away, the Prince's head lolling in deep comatose as he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Perhaps it was his imagination, or a trick of his giddy eyes, but Merlin could have sworn he saw Arthur's eyelashes flicker with silent words of love, his fingers twitching a final farewell.

Merlin's eyes watered uncontrollably and the thick, metallic taste of blood scratched his throat. Ragged gasps filled the silence - with a jolt, he realised they were his own - as his chest heaved for air, his nose blocked and burning. It took all his strength to roll over and shakily rise to his hands and knees; crimson blood dribbling from his nose, splattering the sepia earth.

He harshly cursed himself, despising his lack of strength. What a fool he was - he couldn't even protect his Prince, his best-friend; his beloved.

Rugged words suddenly chortled in his ear - warm, rancid breath grating his neck - barely preparing Merlin for the oncoming incursion. "It's alright, love. We'll look after him." Fingers interlaced with raven hair and his head was forced back, before rough hands forced his weary limbs into submission. He barely felt the coarse rope cut into his wrists as his hands were tied, nor heard the snickers of his assailants as he was yanked into a kneeling position.

A long, unsteady silence ensued; the bandits backed away and watched with keen, prickling interest as Morgana straightened up - not diverting her eyes from the lowly, broken servant at her feet, bound and helpless.

"Oh, Merlin!" Unbridled laughter echoed through the passage, rebounding off the towering walls, pummelling any remaining dignity into wretched hopelessness. "You look a mess." Morgana giggled, and Merlin could only picture the sight she looked down upon.

No doubt layered with mud, he slouched - despondent and motionless - with his wrists tightly drawn behind his back. Dried blood obscured his once-sharp features, painting his face a crusty crimson; save the rivets of ivory skin that carved his cheeks, drawn by tears of pain and despair. Hair wild and tousled, his eyes hollowed and pitted with anguish - though still they sought relief, in the form of his Prince or a unguarded path to flee.

This sight pleased Morgana greatly. When she spoke again, it was curiously gentle - so much so, that Merlin almost recognized the beautiful, innocent ward who had once strolled the castle.

"Take it in Merlin... it's beautiful, isn't it?" She tilted her head back leisurely, and Merlin couldn't help but follow her gaze to the canopy above - though the witch's distracted words were just a dull cacophony that rattled around his head, barely making sense.

What the hell was she talking about?

"Look at the world around you," she continued, startlingly gentle, as though not to disturb the gentle rustling of the dry leaves, "look at the way it moves. Study it, Merlin. Remember it. You'll regret it otherwise."

As sudden as the calm had come about, it vanished once again. A devilish smirk returned to Morgana's lips as she lowered her head to stare at the slouched, disarrayed figure at her feet.

"Why..." Merlin whispered, instantly sparking Morgana's delight; in the way a predator might enjoy its prey's fruitless struggle. He remained tense and unmoving, eyes fixed upon the forest floor, utterly bewildered by Morgana's advice.

"What's wrong, Merlin?" Morgana cooed softly.

Merlin struggled to arrange the words in his head.

"What... happened to you, Morgana? What do you w-want with us?" He slurred, finally directing his eyes to meet the witch's fiery own; a meagre act of defiance. Growing in confidence, he continued. "I don't b-believe that your puny thugs are a match for Camelot and its knights. Your attacks are futile, and sooner or later you're going to realise that." Blood bubbled from his lips as he spoke, but he ignored it. "Go to hell, bitch."

Had he been any stronger, he might have shook with rage and seethed extemporarily, mustering all the fury and hatred he harboured for the witch - alas, he weakly swayed, his flickering rage fuelled solely by the bitter unfairness of it all.

The witch's eyes narrowed to snake-like slits, her mouth coiling in tight annoyance.

"How about I show you just what my puny thugs can do?"

Merlin's confidence instantly evaporated; with another sharp nod to a bow-wielding bandit, he realised too late he had doomed any chance of mercy.

A flash of metal in the sun was his only warning - instantly followed by an explosion of unbelievable pain, erupting in Merlin's head as the butt of the crossbow bludgeoned fiercely against his temple. Vision dancing with spots, Merlin reeled dangerously, head swaying and echoing with pain. Sparks flickered behind his eyes and he veered to the side, collapsing in the mud as his eyelids dropped, unbearable heavy. Darkness started to creep in at the edges of his vision - but he had to stay awake.

"You're going to regret many things."

Merlin's head pounded, pummelling his thoughts into frigid submission. Her words weren't making any sense... but even more unnervingly, a threatening undertone spoke beneath her twisted riddles. Morgana was a liar. But this was something Merlin found himself believing, no matter how much he wanted to push it away as a menacing bluff.

The thick fumes of decaying horse flesh burned his throat; the claustrophobic, stuffy uncomfortableness of clotted blood clogged his nose and filled his mouth while raucous, reverberating laughter taunted the serving boy's pathetic attempt at rebellion.

He had to stay awake for Arthur...

Through his distorted vision, he barely registered the enemy's organised hurry as they prepared to depart the infamous valley, their treacherous plans sufficiently fulfilled.

Merlin felt like he was sinking - icy water tugging at his hair, his skin, his clothes - as he fought to stay awake. Keenly noticing this, Morgana crouched before the servant and reached out, brushing a lock of raven hair from his bloodied forehead soothingly. Merlin willed his limbs to obey - but they slumped, unresponsive and limp at his sides - unable to do anything but flinch away from the maliciously soft touch.

"It's alright," she breathed, tilting her head and smiling tenderly at him, "when you wake up, it'll all be so simple."

In his heart, Merlin knew that Morgana was lying. Of course she was lying. But it sounded so pure and sweet to his ringing ears that he simply nodded his head and closed his eyes, succumbing to the darkness that tugged at his mind.

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a/n - finally! :D I've been so busy lately - it was my birthday last week and I spent the weekend away, not to mention all the homework piling up - but I finally updated!

I'm terribly sorry for the wait - I hope this slightly longer chapter makes up for it :')

I've also been preoccupied with working on some new ideas - 5 one-shots and 3 stories!!

GO AND CHECK OUT my new One-Shot if you haven't already - I've already written 2 more, just waiting to be uploaded! I also updated this story's blurb a couple days ago - tell me what you think!! :D

The next chapter is going to be a pretty momentous one. I just,, I'm sorry IN ADVANCE OKAY

Thanks for everything, guys!! If you enjoyed, don't forget to comment and vote <3

happy reading xx