Hello everyone! For anyone that read Friends of the Hollow Queen, this is the fanfic that I previewed at the end. It's darker than anything else I've written but I wanted to do something different and this is my attempt. I've tried to stay as true to the characters as I could but as this is a situation that we never saw in the show so I might go a little off script while writing it. Let me know what you think!

Loyalty and Bruises

Merlin skidded around the corner, both packs smacking against his back, Arthur was going to kill him. This was the third time this week he was late but this time it was for something that Arthur actually wanted to do. For as long as he had been the infuriating prince's servant, he still didn't get the idea of hunting. Why anyone would want to kill an unsuspecting deer was beyond him but unfortunately his musing did nothing but distract him from the fact that he was coming up on the stairs a little too quickly. Somehow managing to stop himself before tumbling down the castle steps he sprinted down the stairs to meet a less than amused, mounted Arthur.

"Merlin, I trust we're not interrupting something terribly pressing." The sarcasm lacing his tone was enough to tell Merlin that he was upset this morning.

"No, sire. No place I would rather be." Came the petulant taunt.

"I have no problem leaving you here in the stocks, Merlin. I don't really need you tramping around the woods scaring off all the game. I'm sure the kitchen has some rotten food that can be tossed out, hell I might have them bring out the fresh vegetables." Arthur was not in the mood; all he wanted to do was go hunting. This week had been the week from hell and he wanted to release his pent up frustration on some sport, however, if Merlin kept it up, it might just be his hapless servant that received the brunt of his anger. As such, Arthur was hoping that Merlin might for once feel guilty for his tardiness and just keep his mouth shut until the Prince had had the chance to kill something. At the same time, he knew it was a small chance.

As soon as Merlin finished tying down the rest of the supplies, the hunting party moved out, the Prince leading the way. Arthur had elected to only take about seven soldiers, hoping to keep the distractions and headaches to a minimum. Plus they would be able to move much faster with the smaller entourage.

It had turned out to be a particularly muggy, warm day and although Arthur had passed several places where he could have found game, he knew that no animal would be up and moving. So he pressed on. Merlin, however, was not appreciating the pace or the mission and had not picked up on the earlier thoughts of the Prince, spending most of the morning complaining about the trip. Wanting only to be home where it was slightly cooler and not killing innocent things, Merlin kept up a constant string of jests. However, his quips fell on deaf ears; Arthur was not in the mood to even attempt the banter. His father had been in negotiations with Cenred, the snake of a king, because his men were crossing into Camelot's lands, seemingly to test the red king's resolve. Oddly, Uther was reluctant to go to war with the man although he was preparing a sizable force to march into the lands that were the most heavily harassed. He, or more specifically the council, might not want all out war but he was willing to make his force and will known. In any case, Arthur had spent most of the week listening to the prattle of both sides as Cenred's men made excuses for the infiltration of his soldiers. It tried his nerves. Merlin waking him up late for most of the proceedings had not helped his disposition, making his servant's taunting even less acceptable than normal.

This was the direction of his thoughts when the first man fell off his horse. At first Arthur assumed Merlin had fallen asleep in his saddle again and finally turned around with a comment when he heard the blood-chilling sound of metal against a scabbard. That was never good. No sooner had Arthur drawn his sword and turned to face his men when the bandits burst from the wood into the path in front of them. The last thought Arthur allowed before turning to the attack was that he wished he had brought more men.

Spurring his horse on, Arthur charged head first into the fray, the men of Camelot at his back.

While Arthur fought on the ground, Merlin had managed to make it to the tree line, giving him a good view of the battle. He knew Arthur and his men were badly outnumbered and he was attempting to do what he could to even the stakes. His usual tactics of falling branches and burning handles gave way to a couple tumbling rocks off the ravine they had been following when he realized how many bandits there actually were. While he could take out a few men with this method, he had to be careful because the falling rocks attracted a bit more attention than the tree branches. However, his hideout was so far secure.

A few more men caught in a small landslide.

Another taken out by a falling branch.

A group of men fighting Arthur suddenly felt the sting of fire as their hilts mysteriously heated in their hands.

Still even with all his efforts and concentration the bandits kept coming. The men of Camelot were slowly being overwhelmed.

Merlin was focusing intently on a couple of bandits who had gathered around one of the soldiers when he felt a sharp point in the middle of his back. He had left his guard down.

"Turn around." The bandit's cold voice ordered. As he turned he whispered the burning spell under his breath, hoping to run once the man dropped the sword. Set to run, he didn't realize there were two men flanking the one who had just thrown down his still hot sword. He ran straight into these two.

"And where do you think you're going, runt?" A sucker punch knocked him flat and left his head reeling.

The fighting was bitter. The men of Camelot were much better trained than the men they were arrayed against but the bandits had the numbers to crush the soldiers.

Arthur fought hard. Dispatching another bandit he took a moment to survey the field. Apparently, Merlin had found himself a place to hide because he was nowhere to be seen and for once the Prince was thankful for that. As much as he enjoyed pretending he loathed his servant, he would never forgive himself if the man were injured. The men around him were not having the same luck. The small force he had brought with him was slowly falling.

Still they fought on.

His arms were heavy when he watched the last red-cloaked man hit the ground and his stomach dropped. He was the only one left and he knew it was only a matter of time. Even the great prince of Camelot could only take so much. Now his thoughts turned to escape. Pushing forward toward the wood where he assumed Merlin had fled, Arthur tried to make it into the trees. He was doing a commendable job until at a whistle all the frantic movements of the men around him stopped. The absence of an attack caught Arthur off guard and he managed to kill a few more men before he was completely surrounded, swords pointing in from all sides. Knowing the situation could only lead to a horrible development Arthur kept his sword raised.

"Prince Arthur," the voice came from behind him and fixing his most threatening scowl, Arthur turned to face what he assumed was the leader of this merry band. As soon as he made the turn though, his face fell. Merlin, sporting a blackening eye, was supported between two thugs with the leader's knife to his throat; his eyes were wide with fear as the blade drew red at the sharp tip. The leader, who apparently was not as stupid as his followers, noted Arthur's reaction.

"I suggest you drop your blade Prince Arthur, wouldn't want mine to slip now, would we?"

With only a moment's hesitation, Arthur threw down his sword in disgust. Just in time to watch Merlin crumple like a rag doll as the bigger of the two thugs cracked him across the head with the hilt of his sword. He had only a moment of angry protest before his skull radiated an intense pain that ended with blackness.

When he woke up, his arms were chained to the ceiling above him and his head was screaming. Merlin was chained across from him, his head resting on his chest but from what Arthur could tell he was still breathing evenly. The fist sized bruise swelling around his eye was vibrantly visible against his pale skin and Arthur could not help the anger rising at the thought of someone hitting Merlin. His thoughts were interrupted by the squealing sound of the door as it ground open on old hinges. Finally, he was going to get a look at whoever had decided it was a good idea to capture the Prince of Camelot.

He took one last look at Merlin before turning his complete attention to the door.

In strode four men, the restraining muscle from the looks of them, not one seemed to have a thought going on behind the dull eyes. Still, it was obvious they were there to subdue any unwarranted behavior, not that Arthur, or even Merlin, was in any position to do anything. It was the shorter man who stepped into the room after the muscle who caught Arthur's attention. He was dressed in leather, with pants that seemed to too tight for any real comfort and definitely not conducive to a battle situation. On his back were two crossed swords that while they had the look of a royal make, probably had never really seen battle. This man's arrogance was palpable and he had the look of a jackal, someone who had never won anything, but had been successful at picking clean the bones of another's kill. This had to be Cenred, Arthur had never truly met the man but he had heard enough of his assentation to the throne through murder and maneuvering that this seemed an appropriate guess. Morgause must have a hand in this, Cenred would never have the nerve to capture Arthur without her support, he was too weak.

"Prince Arthur." He addressed his prisoner with mock sincerity, "I don't believe we've met. But don't worry, I know much about you and I think you can offer me much more." His lips curled into a wicked smile.

"Well, that does not seem fair, you know my name but I can only guess at yours." Arthur paused like it was some great mystery he was trying to reason out, "Cenred isn't it?" An affirmative nod was all the noble received. "The petty king who has been sending his men into my father's lands. I've had the pleasure of entertaining your pawns. "

Cenred's smile slipped for a moment, "Yes, they were a necessary distraction. I have heard that you like to go on hunts after long diplomatic talks. Did you like my ruse?"

Arthur thought about a retort but kept it to himself, allowing the king to continue to talk, he seemed to like the sound of his own voice.

"You see you are going to be the key to Camelot." Arthur couldn't help but scoff, he knew he would never betray his kingdom; there was nothing this snake of a man could do to him that would result in information.

"You seem to doubt my claim. No matter, you will find soon enough that I have ways that will leave you begging for mercy and asking me what I want to hear. No one has been able to resist my men and they have gotten much practice. I can see in your face that you believe you will be the one to beat the game, but trust me in this Prince Arthur, I have resources that can cause you pain without leaving a single physical mark. The power that I can yield will bring you to your knees and in turn you will bring Camelot to hers. I will have your lands and you will be the one to deliver them to me."

Arthur gave the man a blank stare. Cenred's hope at seeing something akin to fear flicker in the young prince's eyes was extinguished and the smile wiped from his face to be replaced by a sharp, dangerous glare.

"We'll find if you are a tough as you think you are, Arthur Pendragon. I do not think you have ever felt real pain before."

Gloating and threats completed, Cenred sauntered out of the room. The bodyguards followed him out, leaving Arthur and Merlin still strung up from the ceiling. Arthur's week had just gotten worse and Merlin still had not woken up.

When Merlin came to, his head was killing him and for some reason he couldn't feel his arms. Groaning, he lifted his foggy head and attempted to figure out why he was hurting, the last thing he remembered was making fun of Arthur for…for…something related to killing defenseless animals, gods his head hurt. Winking his eyes open he was surprised to see that it was as dark in the room as it was behind his eyelids. Blinking a few more times and willing his eyes to adjust to the minimal lighting in the room, Merlin looked around. He still couldn't feel his arms and it was beginning to annoy him about as much as the pounding in his head. The first thing he noticed was Arthur chained to the ceiling, head resting on his chest. Well at least that explains the numb arms, proud that he had been able to force that thought through his fussy brain, he went back to analyzing the situation. He knew he could get himself out of these chains using his magic he just had to hope that he was the first one to wake up, if Arthur had already seen him in chains it might lead to some interesting questions but he could deal with that when the time came. Now he just needed to force himself to focus a little bit more…the squawking door interrupted his thoughts. Merlin watched as Arthur's head snapped up at the sound and he thought he saw a quick flash of fear cross his friend's face, although it could have just as easily been a trick of the light.

Four men strode in followed by a man dressed in leather, the king of Essetir, Cenred if Merlin remembered correctly. They went straight to the bound Prince who held the eye of the advancing noble.

"So Prince Arthur, have you had time to think about what I told you?"

"I won't betray Camelot."

"I don't want much." The man said in a sickeningly calm voice, "just a few of the secret entrances I know exist in the foundations to allow the spineless nobles to escape if the castle is under siege. It would save you much pain to just tell me know."

Arthur looked straight ahead, a stony expression fixed on his features. His eyes flicked to Merlin's for a moment and the warlock could see the worry growing there, Arthur knew something was coming.

Cenred stepped back and motioned to the one of the men who had marched in first. He simply walked up to Arthur and hit him, hard, in the stomach. Arthur curled slightly but recovered and retained his stony expression. Merlin watched in horror as the man hit him again and again and again. Arthur became the man's personal punching bag. Most of the shots were focused on his stomach but a few caught him in the chest and arms, the Prince could do nothing to protect himself. Still he refused to make a noise, but his eyes did slide to Merlin's and the servant held his gaze.

The beating continued for a while longer, Arthur had long since lost track of how many hits, they were all blurring together in a sick kaleidoscope of pain. He became aware that Cenred had been asking him a few questions but still he refused to talk, this he could handle, this was just pain. He could never live with himself if he betrayed his kingdom. Those were the only thoughts he allowed into his dimming mind.

Cenred was becoming increasingly annoyed with the prince; he had not had any reaction to the treatment. The mock king had expected something from the spoiled royal. His annoyance lead to frustration so when the brute doing the beating paused for a moment and looked back at his king, Cenred gave him a slight nod. The man delivered one strong uppercut and Arthur's head snapped back and came to rest on his chest but his eyes fluttered open again. Another nod. Two more hits. And he was unconscious.

Merlin could tell the king was furious. Apparently, he had expected Arthur to break after a few hits; he had underestimated the tenacity of the prince.

Merlin took one look at Arthur and knew he had to do something. Arthur would die before he gave up any of the information that this king was looking for. He had to convince Cenred that Arthur wouldn't talk, so he figured he would play on the king's vanity. Scoffing quietly and shaking his head at the angered king he said in his most arrogant tone,

"You won't be able make him talk."

"Excuse me?" The king turned his anger on the servant.

"You honestly think that you will be able to get the crowed prince of Camelot to give you information on his kingdom? You're more stupid than I thought." Cenred was seething at this point and Merlin winced, slightly afraid for his own life. One look at Arthur hardened his resolve.

"And you are exactly?" Cenred narrowed his gaze critically.

"Me? I'm no one, I just know he won't talk."

"No one hmm…and that gives you the right to speak to me in this way?" His response slithered off his tongue.

"I know a snake when I see one. And you don't deserve the respect I would normally show." Apparently something clicked under the slimy head.

"You must be the servant that I've heard so much about. The one who dares talk to his Prince as though he's an equal. I've heard of the Prince's unusual attachment to you. But I will tell you, you will not speak to me in the same tone."

"Why? Are you afraid of the opinion of a no-body, you slimy, greasy-haired twat?"

The answering backhand split his lip open, left a sizable gash on his cheek from the purposely-sharp ring, and left his head reeling but still he kept it up. "Is that it? The kitchen maids hit harder than that."

A fist to the gut left Merlin wheezing but he could tell he was close to trapping the king.

He forced himself to chuckle, "You will never break Arthur if your interrogators are as effective at their job as you are, princess." Cenred's eyes flashed dangerously.

"We shall see." Turning away for a moment, a thought seemed to cross the king's mind, "However, since you seem to be so resilient, I'll let the men practice on you. Maybe seeing the torture will soften your Prince's resolve." The king shrugged. "If not, maybe we'll get lucky and the torture of his apparently favored servant will force him to reveal a few snippets of information to ease your suffering." With one more hit to his stomach, Cenred gave the order to release their chains.

Arthur hit hard and as soon as Merlin was freed, he was at the Prince's side. His arms were burning and tingling fiercely as the blood flow returned to them and he had a time forcing them to respond to his brain, but eventually he got back enough feeling to check on Arthur. Realizing that brute had not done any permanent damage, he gave a sigh of relief. The Prince was out cold with a nasty assortment of bruises and bloodied cuts covering his body and he would definitely be sore in the morning but nothing was broken and nothing was life threatening. Now he just had to sit back and wait for his Royal Prat-ness to wake up, unfortunately that gave him time to think about what was going to happen to him the next time those men came through the door. He had bought a little time, not he just needed to come up with an escape plan.

So there is the first installment. Let me know think! Have a good day!