Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin

A big huge thank you to Paralelsky for taking the time to beta :)

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The sun was sleeping peacefully under the blanket of night, leaving Camelot in the company of the silver moon. Pale fingers of light caressed the dark city, drifting softly through the streets while silence crept in like a mist.

However, there was one person in Camelot whom the peaceful night did not touch. Turmoil was spelled out on a pale man's sleeping face and his tense body was twitching in discomfort. It was so piercingly dark in his mind that Merlin wished he was having a nightmare. But this was his reality unfortunately, a vague realm, where outside words would weave in and out of his hearing, smells would reach him only occasionally, and vision would come in fleeting glimpses. And all of it was happening as he went through a normal day- as his friends thought he was himself. But he was not, and in the small reach of his mind that he had salvaged, Merlin knew that someone was commanding him like a puppet. It was like being on the edge of waking. Knowing he was trapped inside himself, with one purpose consuming his mind as he was powerless to stop it. Morgana would kill the king with Merlin's hands, but he would fight. On his life, he would fight.

Something was making him have a poisonous urge to kill his king, and Merlin had fought for awareness when the day's attempts had been far too close. It had cost him a ridiculous amount of strength to muster up the lucidity to stop himself and it was only due to his magic that he had done it. He was now vaguely aware that his head was hurting, either from his endeavour at taking back control or from his deliberate run in with the pillar earlier in the king's chambers.

Never before had his magic been so taxing to use. And he had only delayed a crossbow from firing and pushed himself into the pillar hard enough to knock himself out- all so that he would not kill his friend. The thought of killing Arthur disgusted him. Terrified him. He had been so close at ridding the danger to Arthur when he had let go of that cross bow, if only his body hadn't reacted so fast. But now, all he could do was to keep clawing through the suffocating darkness and hoping he could stop himself. A sudden wave of oblivion speared through him, coating his magic and rending him unable to reach for consciousness. He could not say how long it took to pass, but the next thing he was aware of was a distant bobbing motion. Merlin recognized that he was walking and the realization caused him to panic and thereby gave him strength to clear the dark fog in his head. The first sense that came to him was touch- he felt the cool outside air on his skin, and the way his footfalls met the ground. He felt himself walking to the familiar route to Arthur's chambers.

Merlin's body stumbled as the man trapped inside won the battle for his sight. It filtered in slowly at first, like walking through a windowed hall where the outside was his vision. And when it finally became fluid, he could not see clearly. It was like the time he put on Gaius' glasses, everything was blurred, skewed and disorienting. Merlin wanted to despair; his renewed effort had drained him and had caused a shooting pain to pulse from the back of his neck to his head.

Though Merlin may as well have been chained inside a coffin, he clung to his handhold and did not let go. Merlin's body was getting closer to Arthur's chambers and in the precious few minutes that he still had, Merlin needed to wrestle control back to himself. His breathing had quickened by the time he arrived and his fingers were twitching around the dagger he hadn't realized was holding. Merlin was unconcerned of the toll on his body, for he knew he was making progress- like coming up for a breath of air in a dark lake. But the weights of the dark magic were still drowning him and now Arthur's door was open.

'No!' Merlin screamed in his mind, still unable to control his own body. But his panic gave him strength and he was made aware at how fruitless his efforts were proving. 'Arthur!'

But the king remained peacefully asleep, unaware of the threat advancing on him. Even if he had heard, the familiar sound of Merlin's footsteps would not cause him to wake. Merlin watched from his eyes as his trembling hand rose, honing in with the dagger to his prey.

'Arthur!' Merlin tried to scream again. Tears formed in eyes set on an aloof face, when Merlin's mouth did not open like he wanted it to. The window curtains were left open a sliver, and the moonlight caught on the gleaming blade and Arthur's pale vulnerable skin as revealed by his shirt. The stranger wearing Merlin's body curved his lips in a smile not meant for the warlock's face – it spoke of scheming and murder, and not the usual good hearted mischief and amusement. Merlin's hands twitched in eagerness, as they drew the dagger up above his head.

Would Arthur open his eyes before he died? Would he see his killer? Would he be horrified with betrayal? These thoughts came unbidden from the corners Merlin's mind as his body waited by Arthur's bedside, for the perfect moment to kill the sleeping king.

Merlin let out a noiseless laugh, while tears streaked down his face. He tightened his hand on the dagger and drove his arm down. "No!" his voice shouted.

The dagger stopped mere inches from Arthur's exposed chest and the king awoke the same time. Merlin yanked the dagger up a few centimeters but could not move back and Arthur sat up alarmed at his shout. Their eyes met and Arthur could only gape. Merlin looked at his friend and tried to back away, but it was so heavy. Everything was heavy, the very air tried to pull him down and his limbs felt so far away.

Arthur was speechless and likely shocked. As Merlin warred with himself to retreat, he thought that maybe Arthur thought he was dreaming. Just a split second later, a horrible pain seared through his skull and the momentary shock allowed the dark magic to regain a hold of him. But not for long. Merlin's body shuddered and he managed to talk once more.

"Arthur-" Was the only word he managed, and it was rife with a plea. Like rising nausea, the evil in his mind erupted and Merlin was aware that he barely had seconds to act before he was overcome once more.

There was no time for even thought as Merlin plunged the blade towards himself.

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Arthur had had a spectacular day. One of the best in a long while. The euphoria he felt when he saw Merlin alive had only increased when it turned out that the servant was indeed alright. Merlin had even resumed his duties, though Arthur would have gladly excused him for the day.

But now he was having a nightmare, for what else could this be? Merlin was standing tensely at his bedside, clenching a dagger in his violently trembling hands. Arthur could only stare at the shocking sight and without his consent, his mind tried to decipher the meaning of this dream. Guilt must be the reason. Arthur had lost Merlin and it was his fault that Merlin had come so close to dying. So now his guilt and fear had materialized in this dream form of Merlin trying to kill him as punishment.

"Arthur." Merlin's gasp was so tortured Arthur felt some of his pain. The king did not have time to think on the fact that he had never once had a dream so vivid because the dagger in Merlin's hand started to rush towards the holder.

Arthur acted without thinking. "Merlin!" He barely managed to seize his friend's hands before it was too late. "Merlin, stop!" The servant was staring desperately at the dagger, and trying with all his strength to jerk it away from Arthur. To his horror, Arthur heard Merlin's shirt rip where the tip of the blade tore it - the king realized that the fight for the blade was causing shallow cuts to pepper Merlin's skin. With a yell, Arthur pushed Merlin back, nearly tripping after jumping down from the bed, while using one hand to push Merlin's shoulder back and the other to lift the wrist that clutched the dagger.

Their frantic eyes met, and Arthur was shocked to see tears falling down Merlin's cheeks. The servant then closed his eyes in what looked like pain, and Arthur took advantage of the momentary lack of resistance. He pushed the dagger farther away from Merlin, but too soon Merlin started pulling against him again.

"Merlin, what the hell!" he growled. This was a reminder that Merlin was much stronger than he looked. Why in the world could Arthur not wake up?

"Kill me," Merlin whispered. Arthur was so shocked he nearly let go of the dagger, and Merlin was quick to drive it back down towards himself. The king recovered quickly even though horror had struck him like a blade of lightning. "Please!" Merlin begged.

Arthur's throat was dry, and fear made his tongue heavy. He could only stare pleadingly at Merlin and continue to fight for the dagger. With a great spasm, Merlin suddenly stopped and Arthur immediately tried to pry the dagger from his thin fingers. It did not budge and Arthur felt himself freeze when he witnessed Merlin's eyes flash with a stuttering fire.

Arthur's blood ran cold and he finally realized that this was no nightmare. It was real. In a sudden movement, Merlin brought the dagger back down, though this time in a different direction. It was like a different dance with reverse steps, but these Arthur was more familiar with. While it was, for some reason, physically easier to keep the dagger away from himself than Merlin, it damn well broke his heart to see his closest friend trying to kill him- even though he was evidently enchanted. "Merlin, fight it!" Arthur barked.

Merlin must have heard him, for his eyes flashed a terrifying gold once more, and Arthur was forced to pull instead of push as the dagger once again reversed direction. "Arthur, let go!" Merlin's voice sounded broken. His breathing turned laboured and his limbs shook.

"No, Merlin, you ca- bloody hell! Guards!" Again, gold filled Merlin's eyes and the blade got so close to Arthur's heart that the king felt the point press against his skin. But the combination of his own strength and Merlin fighting back, the dagger was finally wrested away from him. The next minute was the longest of Arthur's life, and Merlin's eyes blazed more often than the king could count.

The two friends continued to fight, and Arthur feared he was on his own when pounding came from the door and the guards called for him. They could not open it.

"Arthur please, I can't fight it!" Merlin pleaded once more. The king was forced onto his back by Merlin who could no longer direct the dagger in his hands. Arthur was now constantly keeping it away from himself, and the control Merlin lost seemed to add strength to the dark magic.

"Shut up," Arthur seethed. "Guards!"

"Sire!" They called back. The blows upon the door turned up in volume as if they were now trying to break it down.

The dagger was flat against Arthur's chest, and his death only a flick of Merlin's wrist away. They were at a stalemate now.

"Kill- me!" Merlin sobbed. "Please, Arthur -"

"Merlin!" Arthur roared with over bright eyes. "Don't ask me that, don't you dare!"

In an instant, Merlin changed. Gone was his terrified expression as he smirked above Arthur, the dagger a hair's breadth from breaking the king's skin. "I have worked so hard for this," Merlin's voice whispered.

"Merlin, no! Fight it, damn it!" They were both panting, and it was clear that a victor would soon emerge.

There was a shadow of light that flared in Merlin's eyes, so faint that Arthur missed it. But the king looked in alarm at the blood starting to trickle out of Merlin's nose. It dripped onto Arthur's face as they continued to fight. And suddenly, horrifyingly, Arthur no longer had to struggle. He stared confused and out of breath as Merlin's eyes widened. Arthur wrenched the dagger out of Merlin's loose fingers, just before Merlin breathed a whispered apology.

The servant was suddenly falling forward and Arthur hurriedly sat up to catch him. "Merlin! No, no, no, no, no!" Arthur supported Merlin like he did his father all those months ago and the memory chilled him to the core. The servant was rested on Arthur's knees but instead of his father, Merlin was not awake to give any last words.

Had Merlin stabbed himself? Arthur was nearly paralysed in fear at the thought but he peered downward at Merlin's chest and could only stare when no blood blossomed on his white night shirt. The breath he'd trapped inside came out in a rush and he had to work to keep it even.

"Merlin?" he whispered. Arthur changed position so Merlin was supported in his arms and he gave the younger man a gentle shake.

"Sire!" The door had finally burst open and five guards rushed in. They stopped in surprise and regarded the pale king and the unconscious servant in his arms.

"Sound the warning bell," Arthur ordered, his voice unerringly steady. "Go to Sir Leon and tell him there is a sorcerer on the loose. Have him scour every inch of this city." To their credit they did not hesitate for long and they rushed to do as their king ordered.

As soon as they began retreating, Arthur hauled Merlin onto his shoulders and stood up. His face was cleared of the emotions he'd felt and he set a quick pace to the physician's chambers. Arthur was cruelly reminded that he had been forced to carry Merlin exactly like this only a few days before, only this time the servant was not as severely wounded. At least, he hoped Merlin wasn't severely wounded.

The castle halls passed in a blur, even though Arthur felt more than alert. He felt each soft breath of wind and the bite of dampness it held brushing on his exposed skin, he smelled the stone that built Camelot, he heard night itself, and he felt Merlin's weight more keenly than ever.

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How was that? I thought of this when I first watched the previews for A Servant of Two Masters but only got around to writing it recently.

I really hope you guys like this and the next chapters will be longer, there's going to be 4 in all.

Thank you for reading, and please review :D