Hey all. It's been a while since I've written anything but a little plot bunny showed up and, despite not feeling physically at my best these past few months, I managed to create this. It's just meant to be a short story - about four chapters, at most. Hope you all enjoy it.

Chapter 01

Camelot's courtyard was in chaos, servants and courtiers running for their lives while soldiers and knights of the realm desperately tried and failed to alleviate the threat currently attacking their citadel.

A squadron of brave souls rushed forward only to be blasted apart, the men screaming as their bodies flew backward and slammed into solid stone walls. To the right three knights were desperately trying to beat the flames away from one soldier who had been lit up like a pyre. Their efforts, however, proved useless; the man died seconds later, succumbing to the flames. Over thirty others had met a similar fate, their remains scattered about and burning on the cobblestones amidst those who were still fighting.

Merlin had been tasked with several other servants to carry the wounded to the infirmary where Gaius and Gwen bustled about tending to their injuries. Each time Merlin returned, another man was declared dead. When he spotted Leon lying on one of the cots with a bloody bandage over his arm, fear and determination gripped the young warlock like never before. He sought Gaius; the old physician currently in the process of resetting Sir Kay's left shoulder. The knight cried out in pain when the bones popped back into place, grimacing when told he needed to rest instead of being allowed back out into the courtyard.

"The prince needs all the help he can get!" Kay argued.

"You're not going anywhere," Gaius declared. "I may have fixed your shoulder but your ankle is severely sprained. If you continue to walk on it, the damage might end up leaving you crippled for life."

"But the prince –"

"Can manage," Gaius interrupted. "And if I see you attempting to crawl your way out of here, I'll drug you like I did Sir Brennor."

Kay looked over at the large knight who was indeed knocked out cold, his torso and right arm completely wrapped in bandages.

"Fine," Kay grumbled, settling down.

Gaius pat his shoulder before noticing Merlin. His ward gestured with his eyes towards a corner away from prying ears.

"This can't go on," Gaius muttered, observing several more bodies being brought in.

"I know," Merlin whispered. "Gaius, you and I both know there's no way Arthur and the knights are going to survive against three clearly powerful sorcerers. Half the courtyard has been destroyed already and I don't even want to think about the death count in the Lower Town."

"Merlin, please tell me you're not going to do what I think you are."

"If the only way to stop them is to reveal myself –"

"You can't!" Gaius cried, his eyes swirling with panic. "Ever since Morgana's betrayal Uther has declared that all sorcerers are to be killed on sight. You wouldn't get any kind of trial, Merlin. There would be no way for you to escape!"

"I'll figure something out. Gaius, if I don't stop them, everyone and everything we love will be dead before sunrise. I can't just stand back and do nothing when I have the power to end this."

The old man continued to argue. "There has to be another way."

Merlin shook his head sadly. "We don't have time to find one, Gaius."

The walls and floor of the castle suddenly began to shake. Dust and pieces of the ceiling broke loose and rained down upon them, chunks of rock falling on some of the wounded, increasing their injuries.

"Arthur!" Merlin cried in panic, leaving Gaius and rushing for the exit, dodging falling debris while trying to remain on his feet.

These sorcerers were some of the strongest he'd ever seen. Their combined efforts reminded him somewhat of the terror brought on by Cornelius Sigan. They'd come like phantoms in the night, destroying part of the outer wall before decimating the Lower Town and slaughtering anyone who got in their way. Arthur and the knights had been ready for them by the time they'd reached the citadel, having scrambled together as quickly as possible after hearing the warning bell. Their efforts to prevent the enemy from gaining entry to the rest of the castle had been successful so far but it was only temporary. They would soon be overrun. Merlin couldn't allow that to happen. He had to stop them at all costs.

Though stumbling a few times, the warlock managed to make it back out into the courtyard, avoiding stepping on a few people who'd fallen over in the earthquake. The sorcerers were on the opposite side of the square, their eyes a constant yellow as they threw spells and fought off close range enemies with the sword. Merlin noticed with displeasure that the ground around them wasn't moving at all. Using a counter spell, he stopped the earthquake and quickly scanned the area for Arthur. That's when he noticed Lancelot and Gwaine gathered around a pile of rubble, desperately trying to move the large rocks. Merlin caught a glimpse of golden hair amidst the wreckage and his heart stopped.

"ARTHUR!"

"Merlin, what –"

Merlin pushed Gwaine out of the way and pain-filled blue eyes met his panicked ones from the rubble.

"Merlin?! What on earth are you doing here?" Arthur ground out through clenched teeth. "Get inside, you idiot, before you get hurt!"

Ignoring him, Merlin assessed the prince's state. Most of him was covered in minor cuts and bruises but his sword arm…

It was buried under the largest chunk of rock and was most certainly crushed beyond repair.

Rage consumed the warlock and his hands shook as he twisted around to face the sorcerers. Arthur had lost his arm. Because of them, his king had been damaged.

Something snapped inside of him and Merlin's eyes burned a brilliant gold. Turning back to Lancelot and Gwaine, he ignored their gasps and commanded, "Protect my king," before stepping away and running determinedly towards the men who dared injure his destiny.

Power like he never felt before consumed him, lighting his body and boiling his blood. In that moment he felt like he could do anything. His magic, swirling in his veins, waited with anxious excitement to be used.

A fireball flew towards him but Merlin swatted it away with a flick of his wrist. Ignoring the stunned look on the older sorcerer's face, he flung his hand out, his magic exploding from his fingertips and wrapping around the man like a spider wrapping its prey within its web. One of his comrades tried to come to the rescue, throwing a curse in Merlin's direction. The nefarious spell slammed into an invisible shield surrounding the warlock, shattering it on impact like broken glass. Merlin didn't even notice the attempted attack. Still focused on his current captive, he quickly closed his fist and the sorcerer wrapped within the golden cage screamed before exploding into a pile of ash.

Terrified over what had just happened to their companion, the two other sorcerers abandoned their cause and tried to make a run for it. Merlin downed the first one with a collection of ice spears, the pointed weapons slicing through the man's back and pinning him to the cobblestones. His last target was almost near the doors when Merlin slammed his palms into the floor, his magic shooting into the earth and commanding the deep roots to break through the thick stone and grab the sorcerer's ankles. The man screamed in terror before being forcibly pulled under the surface, his body disappearing into the earth.

Stunned silence filled the courtyard. Nobody moved. The only noise came from the moaning of the injured and dying and the faint crackle of flames consuming those already dead. A moment passed and then Merlin stood, making his way back to where Arthur lay, ignoring the horrified looks of the knights scattered throughout the area. The prince's face was a combination of horror, surprise, and awe as he watched Merlin approach him. Gwaine and Lancelot backed away.

"Get away from him, sorcerer!"

Merlin glanced to his left. Halfway down the steps was the King of Camelot, Uther Pendragon – a minor irritant. Ignoring the command, Merlin waved his hand and the rock crushing Arthur's arm simply vanished. Too stunned to move, the prince watched as Merlin crouched down and touched his arm, running his forefinger from the shoulder all the way down to his hand.

"Honestly," Merlin muttered, "Can't I have one day without having to save your royal backside? I'm usually rubbish with healing spells but I feel this time this one will work. There; your arm should be back to normal in a few days. Try not to move it though."

Arthur just stared at him in bewilderment and shock. As the spell did its work, Merlin's magic seemed to retract, his eyes slowly losing their golden hue. He suddenly felt bone-tired.

"What have you done to him?" Uther cried, rushing forward with sword in hand.

Fighting back the desire to keel over in exhaustion, Merlin stepped back and addressed the king. "I healed him – though I'm sure I'll hear no thanks from you."

Uther's eyes filled with rage. "What are you waiting for?" he demanded to Lancelot and Gwaine. "Kill him!"

But Gwaine and Lancelot didn't move. Several other knights, however, did. Surging forward with their swords raised, Merlin prepared himself for the worst.

"Merlin, get out of here!" Lancelot shouted while blocking a strike from Sir Gregory.

"No."

"What? Why?" Gwaine demanded, joining Lancelot in protecting the warlock from being skewered by an outraged Sir Maxwell.

"Arthur needs me."

"I don't need help from a sorcerer!"

The words wounded Merlin more than any other. Ignoring the conflict playing out before him while Uther continued to scream for his blood, he turned towards his king.

"I don't need help from the likes of you," Arthur growled, wincing as he forced himself to his feet, his right arm remaining limp and useless at his side.

"Arthur –"

"Get out of here, Merlin!" he snarled, pushing the warlock away with his left hand. Merlin stumbled, his eyes wide. "I never want to see you in Camelot again. If you return, I'll kill you myself."

Merlin reached his hand forward, hurt and disbelief written all over his face. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He couldn't leave. Arthur needed him. He was his destiny.

But the hatred swirling within the prince's eyes was like a dagger to his heart. Tears clouded his vision.

"Arthur –"

"LEAVE!"

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Merlin woke with a gasp, his body covered in sweat, his heart pounding uncomfortably fast in his chest.

Taking a shuttering breath, he sat up, the covers falling from his bare chest and slumping around his waist. Rubbing his face, he paused but was unsurprised to find tears on his cheeks. Sighing, he wiped his face dry before standing up, shivering slightly from the chill. Walking across the stone floor, he opened his door just enough to snatch the freshly laundered clothes he was meant to wear for the day before closing it again.

The bundle in his arms contained a pair of loose black pants, a tight blue shrug that would cover his arms and shoulder blades, and a tight leather necklace. Merlin sighed in resignation. One would think that after eight months Nenari would change up his style; the other men got to wear a variety of clothes but he was stuck showing off his torso for all to see. Setting the clothing aside, he secured a towel to his waist and left for the bathhouse.

The sun was barely beginning to rise as Merlin walked down the quiet hall, nodding to Laura and Rosaline as he passed.

"Morning you two," he said, sending them a warm smile.

"Merlin, up already?" asked Laura.

"Aren't I always?"

"Yes but business doesn't start for another two hours. Why not lie in for once?" Rosaline said while setting down a set of clothes outside Jeromy's door.

Merlin shrugged. "You know me. I hate being idle."

The two girls chuckled before returning to their work. Merlin's smile slipped from his face when he turned the corner and headed down the stairs. Reaching the back door, he opened it and crossed through the beautiful garden to the bathhouse where steam was already pouring from the top. Thomas, a young lad around the age of twelve, was busy stoking the fire outside.

"Morning Merlin," he called.

"Hello, Thomas. How are you?"

"Great! Galahad said he was going to show me how to throw knives today!"

"Really?" Merlin said, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm, "Just make sure you aim for the right target."

Thomas stuck out his tongue. "I'm sure I'll manage. You should worry about getting ready before the bathhouse is overcrowded. I know how uncomfortable you get when the girls show up."

Merlin's smile faltered a little as he glanced over his shoulder. "Right; see you later then."

One would think that after being forced to work in this place he'd be used to seeing naked men and women but Merlin wasn't. Letting out a heavy sigh, he entered the bathhouse and set to work cleaning himself up for the day. Once finished, he headed back to the main house, passing several people on their way to bathe. Most of the girls smiled at him but some of the men, including Jeromy, eyed him with the usual glare. Merlin ignored them. He knew they were jealous of him but he couldn't exactly help the fact that he was the most sought after male in the brothel.

Returning to his room, he found breakfast already waiting; a warm roll, several slices of cheese, and an egg. Dressing in the scanty material he was forced to wear, he sat down at the small table and started to eat. He was halfway through his meal when someone knocked on the door. It opened a second later to reveal the Mistress of the House, Nenari.

Nenari was an older woman in her early fifties, her long hair braided and pinned to her head like some kind of crown. She always wore dresses fitting a woman of lower nobility but still rather refined, her ears and neck decked out with jewelry. Several rings adorned her hands and large bracelets hid her wrists. Her eyes reminded Merlin of a hawk, sharp and fierce, her personality kind but stern. She was a business woman, having been the owner of the largest most successful brothel in Essetir for over twenty years.

"Good morning, Mistress," Merlin greeted, standing and bowing low to her.

"How is my favorite gem today?" Nenari asked, patting his head with fondness. Merlin stood straight as she inspected him from head to foot. "You have shadows under your eyes, Merlin. Trouble sleeping?"

"A little," he admitted.

Nenari pressed her lips together. "Well, we can't have that, can we? I'll close your availability an hour after sunset today. I can't have you looking unwell."

Merlin really didn't want the evening free but he couldn't argue with her. He wasn't allowed to, being her slave.

"You have quite a list of customers today," Nenari continued. "I expect you to do as you've always done and satisfy our lords and ladies with whatever requests they desire."

"Of course, Mistress," Merlin said, inclining his head.

The elder woman sent him a warm smile before heading back to the door. "Lord Randal should be here in half an hour. Make sure you're prepared to receive him."

"Yes, Mistress."

Nenari left and Merlin's docile persona disappeared, his lip curling in disgust. Lord Randal. He hated that man. Groaning, he sat down and finished his food, silently wallowing over his current lot. He was ashamed of what he had become and prayed to every higher power that he'd never be found here by anyone from his former life. Setting his empty tray outside his room for Laura or Rosaline to pick up, he shut his door and flopped down on his bed, his mind caught up in the dream.

It was the worst memory of Merlin's life which, of course, meant he relived it more than any other within his dreams.

He'd done as Arthur commanded all those months ago, leaving him amidst the rubble and fleeing Camelot with the knights in pursuit. His magic had protected him from their attacks, successfully hiding him within the trees, content to keep him alive even though all Merlin wanted to do was die because Arthur's hatred had torn apart his soul, leaving him broken and scarred in a way he never thought he'd be able to survive.

When the slave traders found him a week later, he'd let them take him without complaint. His life was meaningless now anyway. He was taken to Essetir and immediately sold to Nenari, tossed into a world he knew existed but never thought he'd be a part of. When faced with his first customer, a strong man in Lot's military force, Merlin's magic had once again become his salvation.

It reacted due to his panic, shielding him from a terrible fate by creating an illusion so powerful the man believed his fantasies of violating Merlin were actually happening. For one panicked moment Merlin thought he'd trapped the soldier within his own mind but after twenty minutes the glossy look left his eyes and he stood, leaving the room with a satisfied grin.

Horrified over what he'd just done, Merlin had shuddered and almost made a vow to never use his magic in that way again but when the door opened to reveal a noble woman with lust-filled eyes, he made a quick decision. If he was going to survive in this place without being violated, he'd have to use his gift in a way he'd never considered before: he'd have to manipulate the human mind. Repulsed over his choice, the warlock cast another spell, allowing his magic to paint whatever illusion the woman wanted while he remained safely untouched in the corner.

Thus his new life began.

Every day he used his magic to create false scenarios for his customers, each one believing they defiled him and received the pleasure their natural bodies craved at the end of their session.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Merlin wanted nothing more than to die of shame. Never would he have believed he'd use his magic for anyone but Arthur. But using it in this way was keeping his mind and body from being tainted, even if part of him felt wrong for manipulating his customers. Still, he'd rather that they thought they were touching him instead of having them actually doing so.

The only problem with the illusions was that they satisfied his customers so much that he'd become the most desired slave in the brothel. He was on such high demand that Nenari had a special schedule just for him, his days completely booked by eager lords and ladies desiring to have him for themselves. A few had even tried to buy him but Nenari never gave in, always unsatisfied with their offered prices. She made more money off Merlin than any other slave she owned and was therefore understandably reluctant to trade her 'favorite gem.'

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts when his door suddenly opened to reveal his first customer for the day, Lord Randal. The man was lean, tall, and in his early forties with a disgusting belief that Merlin belonged to him. Hating what he had to do, Merlin stood up and bowed to the lord, starting the usual routine of removing the man's boots. As he moved to set the boots aside, his eyes lit with gold, beginning the illusion. Leaving the lord to his disgusting fantasies, Merlin sat down at his desk and pulled a thin bowl towards him. He filled it with water and willed his magic to show him Camelot.

Ever since his exile, the warlock was able to perform any spell he wished without a word. He often wondered why he suddenly had such full access to his powers but was thankful for it all the same because it allowed him to do things he'd never thought he'd be able to do before – like creating illusions that protected his virtue.

Shortly after arriving at the brothel, Merlin had come to the conclusion that even if Arthur didn't want him in his life anymore, it was still his destiny to serve and protect him. So he'd tried out the art of scrying, successful in his first attempt and terrified by what he saw.

Arthur had been in the middle of what was clearly a bandit attack, his men fighting valiantly on either side of him but unable to see what Merlin could: an arrow flying right towards the prince's neck. Merlin had reacted instinctively and somehow, miraculously – though he was over a hundred miles away – the arrow was destroyed before it could kill his friend.

After that experience the warlock nearly left the brothel and returned to Camelot, command or not to stay away. But the reminder of Arthur's hatred stopped him. He was also afraid of what the prince would think of him now that he'd been reduced to nothing but a pleasure slave. Resigned by these two fears Merlin stayed where he was. He didn't, however, leave Arthur defenseless.

When it grew too taxing on his magic to daily scry and maintain the illusions for his customers, Merlin came up with a better way for keeping his king safe. Though Arthur might hate him for it, he'd fashioned a simple silver ring with a protection charm that, once placed on the sovereign's finger, would remain unless Merlin himself removed it. He'd sealed the protection charm with his blood, fusing a portion of his magic into the metal by so doing. Once the ring was fashioned, he used magic to transport it to Camelot right onto Arthur's finger. It had been rather amusing scrying the prince the next day, watching him struggle with the ring for several minutes before giving up trying to get it off.

Merlin felt the ring activate about a week after giving it to Arthur and scried him again, watching as his protection spell mobilized in the middle of a melee, blasting back a man who had tried to stab the prince from behind. As he looked on the fallen man, Arthur developed a calculated expression and surveyed the crowd before shaking his head and returning to the fight.

After that, every time Merlin felt the ring activate, he'd scry his prince and watch as his defensive spell saved him. A smile would always climb his cheeks when Arthur would walk away unscathed. It was the only true smile the warlock would have now-a-days.

Sure, he'd give small smiles to the brothel's staff but they would always be tinted with sadness. Laura, Rosaline, Thomas, Galahad, and several others he interacted with were free – paid servants who had lives and homes away from the brothel. He, like the other slaves, lived in a small room with company he didn't really want and limited interaction with the rest of the members of the house.

The only outside scenery Merlin ever got to see anymore was the gardens on his walk to the bathhouse. He hadn't been in a forest in eight months. He missed the trees, the earth, the sun, the stars. He missed the days when he could ride out with Arthur and the knights on patrols and adventures. He even missed joining the Prat on his hunting trips! Merlin's eyes filled with tears, thinking of those things and so many others; a life he no longer was privileged to have.

Lord Randal, having finished his imaginary business, sat up and let out a sigh of satisfaction. Merlin stood and fetched his boots, ending the illusion as he came back to place them on the lord's feet. Lord Randal promised to see him again soon and left. Merlin shuddered and set to work removing the sheets from his bed, tossing them into a bin near the door. It was his job to replace the sheets between sessions. If he failed to do so and a customer complained, Nenari would punish him. She never whipped him like the others (he being her number one selling item) but he'd had his fair share of other punishments; like having to sleep naked outside in the gardens for a month. That had been during his rebellious phase, about a month after he'd come to the brothel. Galahad, the brothel's guardian, had talked some sense into him then, telling him that it was easier to make do with his new life and move forward than to become bitter and resentful of his situation.

Galahad was a good man. In some ways, he reminded Merlin of Lancelot. It was his job to keep the customers in line. Anyone who physically damaged Nenari's property beyond her standard rules was seen to by him. The man was tall, strong, and looked upon as a protector by all within the brothel's walls. Even Merlin had had to be rescued by him when a lord refused to leave after their session was over; he'd sprained Merlin's wrist when the warlock had tried to escape the room. Thomas had heard the scuffle and alerted Galahad who arrived before the lord could do further damage. Merlin would have used his magic in defense but he didn't dare reveal that he had it; Nenari had all of her sorcerers bound with restraints that sealed off their magic and he couldn't afford to lose the one thing that protected him.

Replacing the sheets with a new set in his store cupboard, Merlin sat down on the bed and prepared for his next customer. A couple of minutes later someone knocked and the door opened to reveal Lady Olivia, a fashionable noblewoman who had lost her husband when Cenred was king. Out of all his clients, Lady Olivia was the strangest. She liked to share the latest gossip in King Lot's court before starting anything physical with him.

"Merlin, how are you, my pet?"

"Well, my lady," he replied as he allowed her to kiss his cheek.

The two sat side by side on the bed and Merlin prepared himself to receive an earful about Essetir's latest scandals. He was therefore unprepared when Lady Olivia didn't begin with her usual account of what was going on between Lady Katherine and Lord Brennick but instead shared news hailing from another kingdom.

"I'm afraid I bring dreadful tidings. I've been in the country, you see, or I would have known sooner."

"Is that why I haven't seen you for about two months?" Merlin asked, smiling politely.

Lady Olivia smirked and stroked his knee. Merlin tried not to cringe or flinch under her touch. "Missed me, have you?" she leered.

"But of course," Merlin lied, pretending to play along. "Now, what is this news?"

The lady removed her hand and he inwardly sighed in relief.

"Apparently King Uther of Camelot died shortly after I went on holiday and his son, Arthur, now reigns in his stead!"

Merlin felt like someone had punched him right in the gut.

"What?" he gasped.

"I know! Terrible, isn't it? Especially since Uther was murdered by an assassin. Poor thing, killed in his own bed in the middle of the night! The little time I spent in Camelot was years ago when my husband participated in a tourney. I didn't think anything of Uther but his son, Arthur, well, no offense to you, Merlin, but I would love to bed that man. I'm sure an experience with him would be glorious!"

Merlin nearly choked over such a terrible thought.

"Too bad he's gone and announced he is to wed a serving girl," Lady Olivia continued, unaware of Merlin's inner horror from her last comment.

The warlock shook himself and squawked, "Wait, what?"

"That's right! It's the biggest scandal everyone is talking about! A king marrying a servant; who would have thought?"

Arthur was king.

Arthur was going to marry Gwen.

A huge smile lit Merlin's face. "I think it's brilliant!" he cried.

Lady Olivia chuckled and squeezed his hand. "I'm sure you would. Marrying anyone above your station would be a dream come true for you, wouldn't it? Too bad you're a slave and unable to marry anyone. But don't worry, my dear, I will give you plenty of love."

Sensing that the gossip was now over, Merlin froze time for a second in order to stand up and get out of the way, allowing the lady's illusion to start once he was safe. Walking over to his desk he focused on everything the woman had just revealed. Being a pleasure slave stuck inside these walls, the only news Merlin usually received was from her. But he'd scried Arthur several times in the last two months and hadn't had a clue that the man was now king.

How had he not known Uther was dead? He knew there had been times he'd looked in on Arthur and noticed he was down but he didn't know he was actually mourning. Merlin felt awful not being there to comfort him in his time of need but at least his best friend was now free to pursue Gwen the way he wanted to. A large smile climbed his face and Merlin closed his eyes as both happiness and regret filled his heart; happiness for his friends and regret for being unable to celebrate with them in their good fortune.

The feelings followed him the rest of the day while the various lords and ladies enjoyed their illusions within his room. Since coming to the brothel, this was the best news he'd ever received.

More to come soon! Please leave a review.