Warlock in the Iron Mask

Chapter Two

He stopped counting the days because it only made it that much harder because it became apparent that no one was going to come for him. He knew that if he continued to do it the worse he would feel. He had fantasized being rescued many times, so many times that he wasn't sure he'd be able to recognize a real rescue if it happened. Arthur bursting through the door, hair illuminated in the torchlight of the outside hallway. He would always have something in hand that would remove the mask and then he would pick up Merlin and take him back to Camelot. Arthur gathering him up in his arms, Arthur kissing him, once he'd dreamed being back in Camelot only to be rudely awakened by pain in his thigh as he was asked again questions he did not have the answers to. That's the way it always went.

He only wished he'd had the courage to tell Arthur how he felt before this happened. Arthur had no idea where he was, had no idea he had magic and certainly wouldn't be traipsing around the countryside looking his wayward manservant. So these fantasies were all just painful dreams of what would never be. And even though he knew he was well and truly screwed it still gave him comfort to dream of Arthur, it was the only thing that kept him clinging to life. His best hope was the druids or the Great Dragon.

He did find one other way to stop from going insane. Since his eyes were useless behind the mask, he began to use his hearing and nose to try and sort out who was who. He so far identified five different guards and a recurring servant by voice, footfall and smell. The one who did things to him, well, that was another story entirely. Merlin was pretty sure he was a warrior given the rough callous on his hands like Arthur had. This had helped sharpen his senses. Granted it wasn't really all that useful but maybe it would be in the future. It was something to focus on besides how many times he had been tortured for information on Camelot's defenses and any weaknesses. He had so far told them nothing, hence further abuse and he could have told them about the secret way in and out, but he didn't. He would never betray Arthur. They could do whatever they liked to him, he wouldn't say a thing, and... they had.

The person who came to use him wasn't a guard. That much he was certain. He wasn't a nobleman either, his voice was rough. He had come to the conclusion that he was being held by some other King's mercenaries. Knights had a more noble tone to them. The information didn't really help him much but at least it was something.

The worst part of this was that they kept him alive. They force fed him and his wounds were sometimes treated. They would not let him die...they just let him languish and his mind wander. He had to live though, he had to fight. He never just –let- them him what they pleased. He always fought, that's what got him broken fingers. He tried again to remove the mask but it wasn't coming off. His magic was just not powerful enough to shake the spell or curse.

He had a small sense of gratification though. The man that people called Sebastian was just as frustrated with it. He kept taunting Merlin about what he would do to his lips if he could only get to them. The mask protected his entire head. He was safe from that at least. The rest of him, not so much and he supposed he should be happy that all parts of him were still intact. Sebastian had apparently been told that Merlin must remain whole and he was too afraid of whoever had decreed that to go against them.

As usual he was not sure what time it was when Sebastian came to him again. "Well, my little bird. You will be getting some fresh air tonight." He drew Merlin to his feet using his chains. Merlin couldn't stand for very long anymore so he had to prop him up against the wall. "We're having a feast. Visitors have come and I want to display you."

Visitors? Merlin groaned inwardly. If it was anything like last time, he'd have to stand for hours. He already knew he couldn't stand for five minutes.

Sebastian scoffed as he sagged again. "You'll kneel behind me, little bird. One way or another, you'll be there." He stepped away and let Merlin sink to the floor. "Get him ready, I want him dressed proper." He spoke to one of the men.