A/N: Hello, dears! So... This one should be dark, and I know I haven't posted anything for Merlin before, so I suppose I'll find out if anyone likes to read this kind of thing. I mixed the prologue and the first chapter together because they were both relatively short.

Warnings: Like I said, this one should be a darker one, so beware of that...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Obviously. IownnothingIownnothing except for my own crazy ideas, of course... *Grins*

PROLOGUE

The dining hall had an eerie glow from the candles lining the long table, illuminating the plates and bowls with their many piles of various foods, desserts and drinks. No servants or guards stood by the doors, which Arthur found odd, especially since Uther usually requested one servant be there to refill the chalices. He knew that his father hated this day especially, but it didn't usually make him a shut-in, but more… proactive, historically. Proactive to get rid of magic from Camelot, and sometimes, he even envisioned a world where no magic was practiced. It was All Hallows' Evening, and that never boded well for the Pendragon house. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Father, you have been quiet this evening." Evening. He cringed inwardly. For whatever reason, that word seemed like the last one he should have used, it would only bring about thoughts of sorcery and witchcraft and all things like it… Uther, from the other side of the table, had been focused on his empty goblet, twisting it around and around. He looked up at the sound of his son's voice,

"Yes. Do you know what day it is?"

Here it came. "Of course."

"I… Cannot die yet."

Arthur was shocked to hear Uther's revelation – and though he wouldn't admit it, a part of him was scared by those words. Was the king dying, had he not told anyone? Was he expecting his life to end soon? "What are you talking about?"

"My life cannot end until I have stopped the use of magic. Until every last witch and wizard has met their end – until I have seen through that no one shall be hurt by sorcery again."

"That's… A good goal, father, but perhaps a subject to sleep on."

Uther looked up, meeting Arthur's blue eyes. His gaze held, as did the prince's, both refusing to look away. "I have something for you. And I want you to promise me, that you will keep it with you always. It will protect you."

The king stood up, procuring something from seemingly thin air. Confused, the young man on the opposite end stood as well, putting down his fork and knife in the process. He swallowed, his mouth feeling unnaturally dry. The king stopped just a foot from him, handing over a small wooden box. There were engravings on it, the likes of which he had never seen – upon closer inspection, he saw that they were small skulls, ivy vines and black-painted butterflies pouring through the empty eye sockets and nostrils, even from between the teeth and ears. He frowned and looked up at his father, who only gestured for his heir to take a look inside. He opened it, his eyes laying on the only object inside –

A thick, black chain was wound up on red velvet padding, and attached to the necklace was a small pendent. The stone in the center was as black as a starless night, and surrounding it was the metal hand, its long fingers wrapping around every side of the stone as though the hand had an endless amount of scorched phalanges. Arthur looked up to his father again, feeling not unlike a child waiting for instruction.

"Put it over your neck." But before Arthur could do just that, Uther took the chain and widened it, going to place it over his son's skull. The prince bowed his head as the stone came to rest on his chest, feeling more like a feather than anything. The longer he stared at it, the more unsettled he became, a hole growing in the pit of his stomach. "It will protect you, my son."

"Father, I don't understand!" His voice grew urgent.

"Any warlock that sets foot anywhere near you will not only have their powers taken – their soul will surely be damned."

Arthur gulped. No, he didn't like the sound of it, not one bit. For whatever reason, only unease settled inside of him, not comfort nor security. "I can't take this."

"You must."

He remembered visiting the Catholic Church on Sabbath as a child – there was no way he would take part in the condemning of another man's soul. Quickly, he grabbed the necklace and tried to tear it off, feeling more sure about this action than almost any he had taken before. His father's hands shot out like lightening, gripping his own, sending a chill down Arthur's spine,

"You will wear it always. That is an order, from your king."

Ice froze Arthur's veins. He bowed, but his heart wasn't in it. "Yes, my lord."

He excused himself and left hastily; he wanted no part in this, but he had no choice. He would not disobey his father – the king.

CHAPTER ONE

The sword gave one last, and quite punctual if Merlin might add, hit to his helmet. His muscles spasmed, giving out on him and with the force of Arthur's blow, he was sent sprawling to the ground with the realization that his back was going to be covered in bruises later. No, not just his back, his whole body would be just one big bruise. He groaned out loud, not bothering to mute it in any way.

"Come on, Merlin, is that the best you can do?"

The warlock made a face beneath the helmet and lifted his head just high enough to see the prince, "You ask that at least once a day, sire, and if you weren't such an over-inflated lout you would have realized the answer by now." Arthur laughed, the noise mocking as he turned away, seeming to be looking for someone to share in a joke at Merlin's expense. The servant found this to be the perfect opportunity, and with what little strength he had left he raised one booted foot and kicked the back of Arthur's knee. The man lost his balance and dropped with choked yelp, one arm shooting out in order to keep him from falling over completely.

"Merlin!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Yeah, this would be the time to run. Merlin twisted around and started running before he was even standing, his feet treading the soft grass and leaving clumps of the greenery upturned. As he moved he tore off pieces of the armor, leaving him in his usual attire with metal pieces scattered on the ground behind him. Arthur shouted from several feet away, "Get back here!"

"I don't fancy it," Merlin called over his shoulder. "Maybe when you calm down, Sire!"

"Calm down? I'll show you calm!" The prince was gaining ground on him with every passing second. Merlin's heart thundered in his chest, pounding to the sound of their footsteps.

"That's really not selling it-…" Merlin's voice dropped off with a grunt when the other man tackled him to the grass, leaving him throbbing even more than he had been previously. "Aowh!" he cried, his expression morphing from pain. He tried to collect his spindly arms under his chest, only to have Arthur grab one and twist it around onto his back, and pin the other down with his knee. "Arthur!" Merlin choked, his tone full of complaint. "Stop!"

"Not until… You apologize!" Arthur used his free hand to shove Merlin's face into the grass. He spat out a green blade of it, huffing and puffing as he struggled for freedom.

"I don't apologize to… prats. Get off, you're heavier than a whale!"

If anything, Merlin's predicament became more difficult after that last comment. He wanted very much to use magic to throw the man off him, but that had to be one of his worse ideas… His back flared in agony, making him splutter on reflex. "Arthur," he started, his voice dropping into a quiet tone, "You're hurting me."

At that, the weight vanished and he was being pulled up by the back of his jacket. "Could you be more pathetic?" he jeered at his manservant with a grin.

Merlin frowned.

Arthur's grin turned into a forced smile and he rolled his eyes, placing a gloved hand on the nape of Merlin's neck and pulling him forward, throwing that arm over the warlock's shoulders. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Merlin. Even if there are too many of them as it is."

"I doubt that," Merlin grumbled, pulling himself out of the other man's grasp. He began picking up the armor, a frustrated look on his face, but he did his duties in silence. Dutifully.

Arthur looked somewhat disappointed by Merlin's response. He sighed. "When you're done with the armor, I have a letter I need delivered to nobleman Edmond."

"Yes sire."

Not even a snarky comment? Or teasing tone? Arthur quirked an eyebrow. "Don't be such a woman's hoop skirt, I said I was sorry."

Merlin ignored the comment, focusing solely on getting the armor back to the armory, and in the process leaving Arthur standing alone in the training field.

MERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLIN

With a sigh, Merlin walked away from the nobleman's house, making his way back through the streets and toward the castle. He had to take care of the prince's last needs, which would be his dinner – actually, no, he was going to be eating with Uther – so that meant just a change of clothes, and then he would be done. Unless, that was, Gaius had something else for him to do. Oh, how he hoped not, not today at least. The walk through the town was relatively short, considering his pace, and he took through the courtyard at a run, and the same for the stairs. He started navigating his way through the hallways, up to the royal's room.

He stopped abruptly when he heard the voice of the king. He was about to keep going when another voice joined that of Uther's, one that he didn't recognize. He ducked behind a wall and turned his head, straining to hear. One of these days he was going to be caught snooping, but, it was just a habit that he couldn't break, after all of the times he had been needed to stop some disaster because of what he overheard.

"I need more of them."

"Are you sure? Because…"

"Yes, I am quite sure. If you're correct about there being sorcerers hidden inside of our walls, we need to remedy that. I won't stand for it."

"The price will be high for that many, my lord."

"I am willing to pay any amount. If this works, not only will we be rid of their magic, but… Did you hear that?"

Merlin's heart leapt to his throat. They knew he was there. With that, he scurried away, arms full of Arthur's laundry as he hurried down the corridors and prayed that he hadn't been seen. He burst into Arthur's room, upsetting the prince from what appeared to be a thoughtful state. The royal glared at him, but said nothing about his surprise entrance. The warlock busied himself with folding the clothes and tucking them away in their designated places, all the while wondering back on the king's conversation. What exactly was he buying that could 'get rid' of sorcerers? He would talk to Gaius about it later, see if the physician could query the king about it.

"What's gotten your trousers in knots?" Arthur asked from his place behind his writing desk.

"Do you know anything about the king figuring out how to rid Camelot of sorcerers?"

Arthur's expression morphed into one that Merlin had never seen before. He stopped what he was doing, holding his breath as the prince worked through whatever thoughts were running through his head. The prince rose from his chair and moved around the desk.

"I don't know where you heard that, but I don't want you to bring it up again." Arthur sounded mad – not just that, but something near livid. Merlin swallowed and put a hand up in surrender, saying,

"I just overheard someone talking about it. Is it something you don't agree with?" Merlin felt hope simmer in his chest at the thought of that.

"Merlin. Don't. This isn't a matter for the likes of you."

"Sorry," Merlin's voice changed and he rose his eyebrows, going back to folding clothes, "I was just wondering."

Arthur sighed, a bone-deep exhaustion and weight that visibly pushed his shoulders down. Merlin looked at him with sincere concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Merlin. When you finish with that, you may have the rest if the night off."

The manservant finished with the last group of clothes and turned to fully face the prince. "Will you be fine on your own? You don't look well, sire."

"Leave."

Merlin bowed slightly, his hands clasped behind his back. "If it's worth anything, you are not your father. You are Arthur, and that is most important - as are you."

Arthur didn't turn around from where he stared out the window, but as soon as Merlin stepped out, he glanced over his shoulder at the door, a strange expression on his face. He closed his eyes and just tried to breathe.

MERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLINMERLIN

The young warlock collapsed onto his bed, his body in peril. Oh, how he just wanted a little bit of peace... Blessedly, he had a good ten hours of sleep to look forward. He drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the golden colored blood running from his nose and seeping into his pillow.