"The Approaching Flames"

Set between S2 & S3. When Arthur is kidnapped Merlin is forced to go to Cenred's castle to try and free him, but with Uther's army gathering around the walls and Morgause prowling around the keep, will Merlin be able to reach and rescue the Prince? Or will their united enemies prove too powerful?

"Chapter 1 – Uneasy"

"Dawn."

"Huh?" Merlin asked, pausing as he circled the room, picking up various items of muddied clothing that had been haphazardly strewn across the floor by Arthur.

"We're leaving at dawn tomorrow." Arthur clarified, letting the map he had been poring over scuttle back into a roll with a loud snap.

"Great. We're going crashing around in the woods looking for things to kill. Again." Merlin groaned, visibly sagging, "You never even catch anything good."

"It's called hunting, Merlin – Not that you'd know," Arthur replied bluntly. "Not this time," he continued in a more even tone, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the table with a loud clatter. Turning his back on Merlin, he pulled his shirt over his head, "Another rumour…" He shrugged, throwing the grey shirt at Merlin, who deftly caught it with one hand and scrunched it into his pile. " …Morgana."

Morgana. The one name Merlin dreaded hearing above all others. Merlin swallowed and nodded, quickly going back about his work, shoveling a few dirty plates from the table onto the top of his already precarious pile of items.

The effect Morgana's name had on Merlin was not completely lost on Arthur, every time it was mentioned his servant would go unusually quite and pale. The reason for this he couldn't quite fathom, but he presumed, like himself, Merlin must feel a measure of guilt for failing to protect her from Morgause.

"It's probably nothing," Arthur continued, "Just like all the others…" Merlin didn't look round as Arthur spoke, instead he busily set about folding and unfolding a cape that he was going to wash anyway, mostly he just needed something to do with his hands so Arthur wouldn't notice them twitching. Morgana was dead. Poisoned. Merlin would know; he was the one who had done it. Arthur had no idea.

"But we can't ignore it… Father won't ignore it," Arthur added somberly as he pulled on another blue shirt. For the last six months he and his Knights had been racing from one end of the Kingdom to the other, and back again, to investigate supposed sighting of the King's Ward made by any old woman or goat herd hoping to make a few coins. For himself Arthur had begun to despair of ever finding her. The further they searched the more they clashed with the surrounding Kingdoms, each day the death toll rose a little higher. Even for Morgana, Arthur was starting to question if one life really could out weigh hundreds of others. His Father clearly thought so.

"This time it's North, the border with Mercia," Arthur said as he crawled into his bed, roughly tugging the neatly tucked sheets loose and squashing the pillows down with his fist - Merlin frowned at that, why he had to make it every morning when as soon as Arthur got in it he was going to do that...

"Who knows…" Arthur mused, lost in his own thoughts as he blew out the candle, "Maybe this time…"

Merlin wordlessly padded around the room, dousing the other flames then slipped over to the door, letting himself quietly out into the cool dark corridor. The sound of the lock clicking back into place was oddly loud in the stillness. He stood there for a moment, hand still on the cold metal handle, forehead against the rough wood of the door.

"You won't find her," he breathed, so quietly he hardly made any sound at all. "I had no choice," he reminded himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "I had no choice". Still the words sounded hollow.

Pushing away from the door he quickly cuffed his eyes and cleared his throat; crying in the corridors was bound to attract attention, and ridicule for that matter should Arthur ever learn of it. Emotionless mask back in place, he strode off down the corridor, tightly clutching his bundle.

The castle was quite, most in this quarter were already asleep, their servants dismissed and candles extinguished – He passed no one. Merlin walked softly, mindful of the sound of his boots in the silence and of those trying to sleep. He turned down another corridor into a wide hall way with a black and white checkered floor – Still he passed no one.

After a few minutes of this Merlin began to get uneasy, even in the middle of the night there was usually somebody about, a servant, the guards… Where was the patrol? The effect of the silence became more and more eerie, surely he should have seen some one else by now… Panic started to well up in his chest, the eerie silence and emptiness reminded him strongly of when the castle had been enchanted into an unnatural sleep by Morgana and Morgause, only this time he could feel no magic singing through the air to account for it.

Rounding a corner a flash of movement startled him, causing him to duck and give a little cry of alarm – He quickly recovered his composure however, and inwardly berated himself. The terrifying monster at the far end of the corridor was a curtain, just a curtain, swaying in the breeze of an open window. Very brave Merlin, well done.

Dumping his bundle on the floor he went to the window; it was cool, clear night, with a light breeze. The town looked peaceful, nestled quietly in the shadow of the castle. Most of the houses' windows were shuttered and dark, though here and there the light of a candle shone through the cracks - It looked just like the first time he'd seen it, leaning out of his window the first night after he had come to Camelot, and that reassured him. It was just his imagination making him paranoid; the watch was running late, the servants were all asleep; nothing strange was going on.

A slight scuffing noise made him lean back and survey the corridor; he wasn't surprised to find it empty. Shaking his head slightly at his own skittishness he closed the window, quietly clicking the catch back into place and retrieved his pile. Arthur talking about Morgana had made him nervous, when he got back to Gaius's chambers, got into his own bed and closed his eyes, everything would be alright; he was just tired.

Setting off again he encountered a new problem. The bundle in his arms kept slithering down until some article of clothing ended up trailing across the floor, tangling round his ankles and forcing him hitch the pile up to get a better hold, while simultaneously folding the offending item back in. Eventually the inevitable happened, one of the plates escaped, hitting the ground with a painfully loud metallic clang, that made Merlin wince, and grit his teeth, half expecting some noble to appear and yell at him, as the dish rolled away into an alcove.

Merlin sighed, dumped the rest of his pile in the middle of the corridor, fed up, and reluctantly followed the plate. Crouching down, he groped after it in the darkness, feeling his way over the cold marble tiles, until his fingers encountered something wet, slight warm, and a little bit sticky. Perplexed, he pulled his hand back into the light and stared at his fingers, rubbing them together, feeling the slightly tacky resistance as he pulled them apart. Then he realised. It was blood.

Merlin jumped back, staring wildly around, one hand raised ready to defend himself with a spell, while he grabbed the nearest torch with the other and jabbed it into the alcove, illuminating the grizzly scene. Lying there, crumpled against the wall, were two bodies; both men, both guards, both clearly dead by the amount of blood puddled around them and the bloody tears in their throats.

A hand over his mouth to fight the urge to wretch, Merlin backed away, his heart pounding. Now he knew why it was so quiet, his instincts had been right after all. This was no accident; there was a killer in the castle. They could be anywhere. Merlin glanced round again, backing up against the far wall, feeling the security of having something solid at his back. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications of his gruesome discovery; Camelot had been, was being, attacked. The only coherent thought that formed was one of conviction, he knew who they were after - There were only two people in Camelot worth killing - The King and the Prince.

"Arthur," Merlin said out loud, feeling ice seize his veins. Merlin turned and ran, sprinting down the corridor as fast as his legs would carry him, no longer caring how much noise he made. If he woke up the entire castle then it was all the better, but there was no time to stop and get help, whoever had taken out the guards had clearly come and gone. They were moving swiftly through the castle, eliminating anyone they encountered, that was why it was so quiet. Merlin was sure the two guards would not be the only victims. Whoever this was they were merciless.

Merlin had to get to Arthur before they did.

Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be up soon - Mostly becasue it's already written! Huzzarh! Please do leave a review, so I can adore you! =3