the cloaked woman with the burning, golden eyes approaching them until it was far too late to do anything.
The heavy door shut behind them quickly , and the two guards let Arthur go. The prince felt sick to his stomach, thinking of Merlin – poor, pale, fragile Merlin – alone in there with his father. "Let me back in," he demanded to the guards.
"Sorry, Sire" one said, "But you know we can't do that."
"Oh, Arthur," Gwaine said, coming around the corner, "You're here. Pity, I was looking forward to popping you one. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that..." He trailed off, eyes twitching from Arthur's face to the two guards standing by the door. "What's going on?"
"My father's talking with Merlin," said Arthur, his mouth gone dry, cottony. "He – Gwaine, Merlin remembered something during, about Morgana, and my father –"
"Why aren't you in there? Why aren't we in there?" Gwaine said, standing next to Arthur. From inside, they could hear Uther yelling. Arthur's stomach clenched. Gwaine glared at the guards, "Let us in there."
"The king has ordered the prince from the room."
"To hell with that," said Gwaine, and drew his sword. Arthur, who didn't have his sword with him, pulled on his gloves and cracked his knuckles. "Let us in, or we break your faces."
The first guard looked at the second. In a single motion, they both stepped away from the door.
"Brilliant, pleasure doing business with you," said Gwaine, sheathing his sword. Arthur was already pushing inside the room. He paused for a moment, unable to move.
Merlin was on the ground, his good hand pressed to his head, shudders running through him in waves. Uther was towering over him, and for a terrible moment Arthur wondered if Uther knew about the magic. But that was stupid, Arthur decided, because the only thing that got his father this wound up was Morgana.
He stepped between them, pressing a hand against his father's chest and forcing him to back up a step. Gwaine slipped past them, kneeling on the floor to wrap an arm around Merlin's shoulders, talking quietly in his ear. Merlin, eyes clenched shut, tried to pull away. Every instinct that Arthur had screamed at him to check on Merlin, to talk to Merlin, to make sure that Merlin was all right. Instead he forced himself to focus on the king.
"You dare to directly disobey me?" Uther said.
"Father, please, just take a moment to consider this," said Arthur, fighting to keep his voice as even as possible. The very moment Uther sensed any sort of emotional involvement, Arthur knew that the fight would be lost before he had a chance to begin. So as the sound of Merlin's gasped breaths threatened to break him, Arthur continued, "Think of how this will look to the council."
"I am ensuring the safety of our kingdom," Uther said, "Something that you should –"
"I'm aware of your intentions," said Arthur, "But are they? I know you are of sound mind, but consider how this will look to the council. Merlin's weak and confused, hurt. And then you start interrogating him over Mor – over her?"
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," said Arthur, as Gwaine pulled Merlin up from the floor, warlock leaning all of his weight bonelessly on him, and staggered from the room, "That to someone who is not you or I may view this as a relapse."
Uther was quiet. Then, he let out a breath, tension leaving his shoulders. "You're right," he said, "Of course you're right. However."
"Yes?"
"We must find her to bring her to justice," said Uther, "It is more important than anything else."
"Yes, Father," said Arthur, "But there are better ways than browbeating a servant who's obviously been tortured. Merlin's no knight. He's had no training for that type of situation."
"Exactly," said Uther, "And as such should have been killed. They would only keep him alive for so long as he was useful. The very fact your servant still lives implies that he gave them some sort of information. Gave her information, or made a deal of some nature. After a certain amount of time they would have just given up on him, unless they believed him worth something."
It was a valid point, and one that Arthur hadn't considered. Uther turned to leave Gaius's chambers, and then turned back to look at his son. "Arthur," he said, "While I appreciate your concerns for my...image, understand that if you disobey my orders again, I will have to take disciplinary action immediately ."
"I understand," said Arthur.
"Good," said Uther, and swept from the room. Arthur silently counted, making sure his father had gone. Then he tore off down the corridor to find Merlin and Gwaine.
As Arthur moved down the hall, he found Percival and Gaius walking towards him. "What's happening?" Gaius said, "Percival said something about the king and Merlin ...–"
"It was bad," said Arthur, "Gwaine's taken Merlin somewhere, his room, I'm assuming, but..."
"Lead the way, Sire," said Gaius, face grim.
The last thing any of them expected to see upon turning a corner was Gwaine, sprawled and unconscious in the middle of the corridor, a trail of blood running from his hairline down the side of his face. Merlin was nowhere in sight.
"Gwaine," Arthur said, tapping his face. Gaius kneeled stiffly next to the knight just as Gwaine's eyes opened. He blinked blearily. Arthur said, "Gwaine, where's Merlin?"
Gwaine's eyes focused immediately. "Arthur, Merlin," Gwaine said, trying to sit up. Gaius shoved him back down. "You've got to go and find Merlin. Your sister's sister, the blonder, bitchier one, sh.. she's here, and –"
"Morgause?" Gaius said, as Arthur froze.
"That's what I said," Gwaine said, batting the physician's hand away as he tried to examine his head. "Arthur, why are you still here? She's taken Merlin."
Three little words, just three, and Arthur felt fear grip his stomach, sharp and stabbing. He, not having his own, grabbed Gwaine's sword and ran down the hall, Percival just behind him.
