Disclaimer: Merlin, as much I wish it were, does not belong to me. He is the property of the BBC.

A/N: I do not know how often I will be able to update this. The idea has been bothering me, and I just had to get a part of it out there. Rest assured, it will never be abandoned. It just might take a while :).

Prologue:

Merlin shut his eyes as he hung in chains from a wall in the small, dank dungeon. He squeezed them together, trying to block out the mental pictures. There was no sound, no screaming. Not yet. However, the pictures were enough, a never-ending stream of possible scenarios, all horrible, all in complete silence.

Merlin heard the cell door open, and opened his eyes to see who it was, hoping against hope that it would be his friend. His hopes were dashed immediately.

One of the captors entered the room, and Merlin closed his eyes again. He couldn't block out the man's gravelly voice, however.

"Well, servant?" The sneer in the man's tone could not have been less hidden. "Are you ready to talk?"

Merlin did not respond, did not move, did nothing.

"Very well." The man turned and left, leaving Merlin alone. The boy felt unwanted tears slipping down his face and blinked them away angrily. Arthur would not cry, so neither would he. He did not know what to do. Out of all of the dreams in his wild imagination, he could never have imagined this. This nightmare.

Merlin knew that he would rather die than betray Arthur, betray Camelot. That was something that no amount of torture could ever change, but this time, it was different. This time, it wasn't his own life under threat. This time, it was Arthur's.

Merlin finally released the tears.