Title: Once Bitten

T for beatings and general darkness.

Warning! Here there will be slash! If you don't know what that is, it's "they're more than just friends" of two guys. Don't like, don't read.

Don't own Merlin.

/

Arthur, as a rule, liked people to knock before bloody well entering his rooms. The only person who didn't follow this like every other normal member of Camelot was Merlin, and he knew when Merlin was coming, normally. So when to door flew open with the force of a battering ram, he wasn't very pleased. Rising, he was about to yell when he saw who it was. The anger died in its birth when Gwaine stormed in, pulling Merlin behind him. Merlin had his face buried in his hands, and seemed to be trying to hide from him, cowering behind Gwaine's bulk.

"Show him," Gwaine said roughly, releasing Merlin's arm. The slim man shook his head, and backed up, hands still covering his whole face. "Merlin, I know you don't want to, but he needs to see this." Again, the servant began working his way towards the door, stumbling against a chair.

With a growl, Gwaine slipped over and, wrapping Merlin from behind in his arms, pulled Merlin's hands away from his face. He turned him to face Arthur, almost cradling him but keeping hold of his hands. Ashamed, Merlin turned his head to the side, and struggled weakly in Gwaine's firm but gentle embrace.

The Prince's breath caught and he stalked forward, furious. Gently lifting Merlin's chin so that he was facing him, he studied it. "What happened?" He asked, trying to keep his temper in check as Merlin flinched away, his eyes fearful. He always seemed fragile to start with- like a butterfly in a storm his wings were easily ripped. And now this…

"I fell down, my lord," Merlin choked out, as Gwaine let out a low rumble of anger.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and said softly, "So the stairs split your lip, back handed you, cut your cheek, and blacked your eye, did they?"

Merlin's eyes welled with tears, and he looked away, chewing on his lip. His face was a wreck, his right eye a messy purple, yellow, and green bruise, and the cut on his cheek was shallow but long. His mouth looked bruised as well, with a split on the right side and a hand-shaped bruise was forming on his other cheek.

Gwaine and Arthur exchanged anxious glances over his head, Gwaine tightening his grip on his friend as he treated him like glass.

With a group of visiting nobles in town, all of the servants had been assigned to two people. Merlin had ended up with Lord Aden Chillingham, a man who was, rather unfortunately, important for Uther's happiness. If Arthur had had his way, Merlin would have simply been assigned over to Gwaine, but Uther had put him with Chillingham. And while Arthur might have thrown a few things at Merlin, he'd never actually beaten him- cruelty wasn't in his nature- but this was over the top. Arthur's rage was boiling. There were virtually no laws in place to protect servants, particularly not male ones, and there was no way Chillingham would accept a duel of honor. After all, who would fight for the honor of a lowly servant?

Merlin's tears slowly streaked down his face. "Gwaine…could you let me go? My back-" he cut himself off, inhaling sharply as Arthur's eyes snapped to him.

"Merlin," he said very quietly in his best "I-am-king-thou-shalt-obey" voice, "What's wrong with your back?"

Merlin choked, and looked helplessly up at Gwaine, who loosened his grip reluctantly. Merlin turned and buried his face in Gwaine's shirt, clutching at it and mumbling something incoherent. Arthur looked curiously at Gwaine, whose face had gone distinctly stiff.

"What did he say?"

Gwaine trembled, impotent rage clear in his eyes as he looped his arms gingerly around Merlin.

"He was whipped."

Arthur very calmly turned and counted to ten, closing his eyes and willing the bloodlust away. The sound of Merlin's quiet, shaking breaths were becoming heart wrenching, and if he didn't get himself under control, he knew that Chillingham would be dead before dawn, and at his hands.

/

Gwaine watched as Arthur pulled himself together, getting the fury out of his system. He was grateful for it- Merlin's form was trembling in his arms, and the last thing any of them needed was him to think that Arthur was angry at him. When that happened, Merlin was an apologizing wreck, forever anxious to get Arthur's good side back.

It really wasn't healthy, their relationship, but at this late in the game, there was nothing Gwaine could do but hold the pieces together even when they didn't match.

Once Arthur had gotten himself back to normal, he turned back around and came over, gently resting his hand on Merlin's shoulder. The man flinched, but stilled, peeking out at him.

"Merlin, I'm going to go and get Gaius to come and look at you, alright?"

Instant panic. Gwaine could feel it even before Merlin's hand shot out to grab Arthur's arm.

"No!" Then, more quietly, "Please. Don't leave me. Either of you."

/

It was a long, tiring trip up to Gaius's quarters under normal circumstances, and Merlin was relatively sure he was going to pass out if Arthur insisted that they take the less traversed hallways that wound through the castle. After debating for a few minutes, they (being Arthur and Gwaine, with mostly ignored input from Merlin) decided to take the normal halls, and hope that nobody saw them.

Arthur walked in front, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword, radiating fury. He looked terrifyingly powerful when he was angry, and right now the few people who passed them by bowed in respect, eyes following the odd trio as they worked their way towards Gaius. Gwaine was almost holding Merlin upright by now- the pain was making him light headed, and he had developed a tendency to walk into walls when released.

Merlin was fairly certain he had never been in this much pain before. Not even the poison had burned like this, that time so long ago. This felt like he'd be dragged through a pit of knives and then beaten with a club, after having his innards wrapped around a red-hot poker. It was incredibly frustrating, knowing that he could have stopped it, if he'd just had the sense to actually knock the man unconscious- It wasn't as if he couldn't have, after all. Being a being made of magic had its uses. But fear had blinded him to what he could have done, and instead he'd ended up on the floor, pleading like a child for mercy.

He stumbled a bit, and Gwaine caught him before he could fall, a broad arm looping around his waist. Merlin looked up at the knight, whose eyes were anxiously looking back. "You alright?" he asked softly, but his shoulders were tense, fearful.

Ah, how to answer that… "I just tripped," he said quietly, looking away. He went to bite his lip, and a very annoyed flash of pain zapped him. He released it, and resisted the urge to grab onto Gwaine's arm to stop himself from falling over as the aftershock wreaked havoc with his already pain laden nerves. He could do this by himself, and he was not going to grab onto anyone's arm like some prissy noble lady. Arthur already thought that he was a girl normally, and he wasn't going to further the notion by clinging to Gwaine. Well…At least not any more. He'd been emotionally compromised! Though, considering that he was still shaking like a leaf, it was probably safe to say that he was still emotionally compromised.

All thoughts, however, flew promptly out the window as Gwaine tightened his grip. "Merlin," he said quietly. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Just like that, the little bit of humor he'd managed to shove into his life went "poof".

/

Gaius's rather quiet afternoon studying arsenic flew out the window when his door flew open to reveal a fuming Prince Arthur and a rather battered Merlin, who was being supported by Gwaine. He promptly dropped the bowl on the table, where it cracked and spilled small, silvery gray fragments all over it. He sat down hard, hands shaking as he took in his foster son's appearance, horrified. Nothing was said as he surveyed the group. Merlin's head hung dejectedly, lolling against Gwaine's shoulder. Arthur seemed tense and angry, never a good combination. Gwaine just looked murderous, his arm around Merlin's thin, sagging shoulders.

"What happened?" He finally asked, even though he knew the answer. He should have seen it coming, he thought to himself. He'd known that hewas going to be arriving soon, he'd known that Uther would give him a servant with a high rank; he'd bloody well almost known it would be Merlin. But somehow, he hadn't expected this, even after all of his years tending the victims. He hadn't seen it coming, and now he was paying the price for his foolish ignorance. He hadn't even asked who he was serving this week…he hadn't wanted to know, because he'd already known, in a way, and he didn't want to accept it…

"Lord Chillingham," Arthur said brusquely, hand curling around the pommel of his sword, his knuckles going almost white.

There. It was said. Gaius swallowed hard, and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were cloudy with pain. It was going to be a long few weeks.

"Put him on the bed, and then I want you both out."

Gwaine looked incensed, and Arthur opened his mouth, probably to yell, but Gaius held up a hand. "If you stay, you'll both be ready to kill by the time I'm done with him." Arthur mutinously shut his mouth, and Gwaine's shoulders hunched, almost protectively holding Merlin. Gaius noticed this with some interest, but kept his mouth shut.

Slowly, Gwaine came forward and set the limp young man on the bed, then looked at Gaius. "Have there been others?" He asked softly, his voice quiet but pained. Gaius sighed, reaching out to touch Merlin's forehead.

"What do you think?" He asked tiredly.

Silence fell, broken only by Merlin's shifting on the bed, and the quiet whimpers that were slipping out of his throat. Gaius looked at Merlin's pain riddled face, and felt a flash of pure agony go through him. The boy didn't deserve this nightmare- he didn't deserve any of what had happened to him. For such a gentle, quiet soul, he was constantly being tormented by his inner (and consistently outer) demons, and Gaius was getting sick of it all. The boy only ever tried to help, and this was how he was rewarded; with torture, pain, and anguish that seemed to be unendingly long, and unendurably hard.

It was so unfair.

When he looked back up, Gwaine and Arthur were gone, the door shut behind them. Curious, he went over and opened it, looking out into the hall. Both were sitting there, sheathed swords in hand and watching the door where he stood with unblinking eyes. He smiled weakly at the two of them, and said softly, "I worry about him considerably less with you two protecting him."

They nodded somberly, and Gaius shut the door again. Leaning on the old wood, he took a slow breath to steady himself, and then turned to look at the bed. Merlin had rolled himself over, and had buried his face in the pillow. Gaius pulled a chair over, and sat beside him.

Silence.

"I could have stopped him," Merlin said softly. "I wanted to. But I was afraid. I…I lost control of it. It was like the fear over rode everything. I couldn't even touch the magic, it just…I couldn't touch it. It kept pulling away…the more I tried to use it."

Gaius said nothing, just gently touched Merlin's shoulder.

"I was so scared…" Merlin's thin form shook, then stilled. "And it was all over such stupid things too…I called him 'sir' instead of 'my lord', I talked out of turn, I looked him in the eye…That was he blacked it, the eye thing… and then I dropped his dagger, and he sliced my cheek… The talking out of turn got me the backhand…the 'sir' was the split lip. And then I dropped some of his luggage…"

Gaius had treated enough of Chillingham's victim's to know what had happened next.

"Let's get your shirt off then," he said softly.

/

Gwaine and Arthur sat silently together, staring at the door. Both were drowning in their own thoughts, but they were both determined to drown privately, or not at all.

Gwaine was thinking of Merlin's expression when he'd found him on the back stairs, far away from anybody who would see him, his eyes red rimmed from crying. He would never forget that look of absolute horror when Gwaine had called his name, the way he'd flinched like he was afraid, and the shame that flitted over his features as he tried to hide his face, wiping away the remains of tears. It hurt, that Merlin couldn't trust their friendship. Admittedly, Gwaine could tend to be a bit of a butt on occasion, he'd be the first to admit it, but that Merlin had been afraid of him…That was painful.

Arthur was thinking about Merlin as well- More specifically, the fact that Merlin hadn't fought back. He knew Merlin had magic, you'd have to be blind not to see it, but for him to let it happen…He would have had to be truly terrified. Arthur had a hazy, vague notion of what magic entailed, and he was relatively certain that words came into the process somewhere, but he was also fairly sure that he'd seen the magic done without words. This, he thought tiredly, still begged the question as to why he hadn't fought back. It didn't make any sense. Merlin's sense of self preservation was remarkably well honed, and he was, as far as Arthur knew, a good magician (or mage, or warlock, or whatever), so for him to just lay down and take something meant that he either a) couldn't do anything or b) was too scared to do anything. (He was betting on 'b', though 'a' was definitely making a good argument.)

"Gwaine," Arthur said finally.

The man stirred. "Yeah?"

"Hypothetically speaking…If I was to begin looking for a way to remove Merlin from his servitude to Chillingham, would you be willing to help me?"

/

The welts were long, and there were four of them, angry red lines that sliced across the milky pale skin and raised ridges across Merlin's back. Gaius felt sick as he gently rubbed in various medicines to help with the swelling and kill the pain. Merlin was already holding a lump of meat against his swollen eye. They sat in absolute silence for a long time, Merlin occasionally flinching if Gaius pressed too hard, but remaining quiet.

"Gaius?" He finally asked, and Gaius's heart sank.

"Yes?"

"Are there…are there others who this has happened too?"

Gaius sighed. "Lord Chillingham's first victim came to me when I was only 25," he said softly. "Every three years, he comes to visit with Uther, and every three years, someone ends up here, a wreck of what they used to be. I should have warned you…But…"

"It's alright, Gaius," Merlin said softly. "I just have to last out 13 more days."

Gaius flinched at that, taking a shaky breath as he reached for the bandages that sat beside him.

It was going to be a very long next few weeks.