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He couldn't breathe.
That was the only thing Merlin could think when he awoke. There was a sharp, tight pain around his neck. He tried to breathe, but every breath felt like fire. He couldn't remember what happened, why he would be in pain. The last thing Merlin remembered was being in Arthur's chambers. He remembered their discussion about the ban on magic. Arthur was going to lift it. Arthur had been so calm, so accepting. What had happened between then and now?
"Hush," said a familiar voice. "Just relax, it's almost over."
"Arthur," Merlin choked out. He forced his eyes open. Sure enough Arthur was there, sitting by him. The King had reached out a hand to comb his fingers through Merlin's hair, so drenched with sweat that it clung to his forhead. The fire around his neck seemed to cool at Arthur's touch.
"I can't breathe," Merlin gasped, his fingers finally lifting to his neck. He felt a tug on his wrist. A metal shackle held his arm away from him. Finally the reality of what was happening set in and the fear spiked in his chest and Merlin felt like he was choking on the sob that worked it's way out of his throat.
Merlin looked around for the first time, really looked, and noticed he was still in Arthur's chambers. He was laid out carefully on the bed, his wrists shackled and held loosely to the headboard by chains. He was confused, so confused. He had no idea what Arthur would do with him.
"W-why?" It was all Merlin could choke out as he finally let his gaze rest on Arthur, who sat on the edge of the bed. The King was looking at him with pity in his eyes. Merlin watched as Arthur reached to the bedside table. There was a large bowl and a thick strip of white cloth. Merlin watched as Arthur carefully wet the cloth and brought it to Merlin's face.
Merlin let out a terrible, terrified whimper as the cool water cleared away the sweat from his brow. He was surprised at the careful way that Arthur cleaned his face, smoothed away his sweat-matted hair, and clucked at him like a nursemaid would do a small child. When one is held in shackles, they rarely expect to be treated with any kindness, much less to be coddled like a child.
"Easy Merlin," Arthur chided when Merlin tried to shimmy away from Arthur's touch. The King moved the cloth down the side of his neck, and for the first time Merlin realized the fire he was feeling was coming off a thick band of scorching metal that lay snug against his throat. It felt like cold fire. It felt as though all the warmth in his body was being sucked away. Merlin finally recognized his magic fluttering underneath his skin, feebly trying to fight off the pull of the metal collar.
"You're alright. I promise," Arthur spoke again when Merlin let out another small cry. Arthur cooed at him like a sick child. It reminded Merlin of when Hunith would care for him in the winter when he would come down with a fever. It was thought of Hunith and the warm security he always felt while under her care that sparked Merlin's rage. He twisted sharply away from Arthur's hand, an angry snarl coming from his lips. For a moment, Merlin knew it was futile, but he pulled at his chains anyway, seeking any kind of leverage he could use to pull away.
"What did you do?" He snarled when Arthur tried to shush him again. "What have you done to me?"
Arthur allowed him to tire himself out, and only when Merlin stopped twisting this way and that, did the King moved closer to him on the bed, stroking his hair with false tenderness.
"Please stop fighting it." Arthur said calmly. He ran his fingers over the top of the cold metal that was wrapped around Merlin's throat. "It'll all be over soon if you just give in to it."
"What are you talking about? Arthur, please," Merlin cried when the fire seemed to curl even deeper in his chest. His magic sputtered like a the flames in a dying camp fire. The pain grew strong while his magic faded further into the background. "What is this?"
"Cold iron," Arthur stated matter-of-factly. "It's a special collar that was forged a long time ago. It absorbs magic from its source. My father kept in hidden in the vaults."
Merlin just stared up at Arthur with a horrified expression. "I-its taking my magic?"
Arthur nodded solemnly as he turned away to wet the cloth again. Merlin stared deeply at Arthur's face trying to find some reason, some indication, that this was all some sick twisted revenge for Merlin lying about his magic. He tried to form words, to ask what he had done to deserve this from Arthur, but all that came out was a mournful sob. Merlin twisted away when Arthur reached for him again. He cried and he sobbed and tried so desperately to lash out when Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin's shoulders and pulled him close, ever mindful of the chains that still held Merlin's wrists.
"Hush," Arthur cooed in his ear, stroking his hair like Merlin were a precious gem. "You're doing so well. I know it hurts. I'm so proud of you."
Merlin cried again. He didn't care about the pain anymore. All he could feel was the cold betrayal twisting his heart. He sobbed against the King's chest as Arthur continued to hold him and murmur what he thought were comforting words in his ear.
"Why?" Merlin finally choked out. "You said- my magic. You accepted it. Why? Why would you take it from me now?"
Arthur was quiet for a moment. The king just sat silently along side Merlin's broken sobs, trying to carefully choose the right words to explain his decision to Merlin. Finally, Arthur's hand stopped it's stroking motion in his hair, and instead moved down to cup the back of Merlin's neck. Arthur leaned his cheek against Merlin's head, trying to express without words that he cared.
"I know you think I'm a monster," Arthur began slowly. "But you have to understand that I'm doing this for you."
Preparing for Merlin to lash out, Arthur tightened his grip around the sorcerer, holding him carefully in place, even as Merlin growled and cried and twisted. He held tightly until Merlin fell still as the collar continued to cleanse Merlin of his magic like a leech sucking at decaying blood.
"Merlin, please," Arthur said as Merlin twisted angrily in his grip. Only Merlin could make a king beg, of that he was sure. "I know you can't see it now, but one day you'll thank me."
"I've seen what magic does to people. It'll destroy you Merlin. It always does. I've seen too many people become twisted because of magic. I won't let that happen to you. You have to know that I care too much for you to allow that to happen."
Arthur waited for a response, but none came. Merlin wasn't even struggling anymore. He just stayed there, against Arthur's chest, quiet sobs forcing his shoulders to quake.
"The collar will absorb your magic," Arthur said carefully. "And once it's done, everything will go back to how it was before. Nothing will change between us, I swear."
"Please," Merlin sobbed again, craning his neck to see Arthur's face. It broke Arthur's heart to see Merlin's face twisted in such agony, but he knew it had to be done. It would all be over so much quicker if Merlin could just see that he was better off without his magic.
"Arthur, it hurts," Merlin whimpered. His eyes were wide and brimming with pain and it almost made Arthur want to rip the collar off and try to find another way to bind Merlin's magic.
Almost.
"I know it hurts Merlin," he said, pulling Merlin close, and stroking his hair. "Just stop fighting and it will go so much quicker."
"It's killing me," Merlin cried, low and mournfully. "I was born with my magic Arthur. You know that!"
Merlin gave a half hearted tug away from Arthur, but the King pulled him back easily.
"I can't Arthur. I want my magic. Please, don't take it from me."
"You would choose magic over me?" Arthur asked. His voice was low and cold. It was everything he feared Merlin would say. He tried to remember that it wasn't Merlin's fault that he had come to rely on magic. He was born with it. He hadn't known how evil magic was, what it would do to him. Frankly, he wasn't even sure he was even talking to Merlin right now. The magic could be clouding his mind, attempting to take him over, even now. Arthur knew the magic would do anything to preserve it's seemingly symbiotic relationship with it's host.
"You may as well ask me if I'd rather have my arms and my legs over you." Merlin said, his voice hollow and painful. It made Arthur's chest tighten. "I can't live without my magic Arthur. I wouldn't know what to do without it."
Arthur stayed quiet for a moment, carding his hands through Merlin's hair, rubbing his back and arms. Arthur knew he couldn't fully explain it to Merlin. Merlin couldn't understand. Merlin hadn't been raised in Camelot. He had no idea about magic, other than what he may have learned during his life in Ealdor. He had known nothing else. Arthur knew it would be up to him to teach Merlin how to live without his magic. In fact, he rather looked forward to it.
"You'll learn Merlin. You don't need your magic. That's how it manipulates you. You think you need magic, but you don't. You're perfectly fine without it."
"I'm perfectly fine with it!" Merlin snarled at the King, using every bit of strength he could muster to rip himself out of Arthur's arms. He twisted and kicked until he was curled against the headboard, where the shackles on his arms were bolted. He stayed there, glaring at Arthur. He was so angry he almost couldn't feel the hot pierce of the collar as it invaded his chest, stealing his magic.
"You said you understood," Merlin said in a broken, accusatory tone. "You said that you understood that I only used my magic for you. You said you knew that not all magic was evil. And you lied. You lied so that I would trust you. And now you're taking it from me."
"Do you really think you're the best person to be angry about someone lying to gain someone's trust? I forgave you for lying to me." Arthur said. His voice was once again soft and cold. "I forgave you because you did do good. That's why I'm doing this for you. This is my way of thanking you for all you did for me."
"Your magic," Arthur said. "Is corrupting you and you can't even see it. You tried to convince me to lift the ban, Merlin. Can you imagine what would happen if we allowed magic to be used freely? It would be chaos."
"Of course," Merlin shook his head dejectedly. "Of course you lied about that too." Merlin bit down on the sobs that wracked his chest. "How could I have been so stupid?"
"You aren't stupid Merlin." Arthur said to him as if Merlin were a wild horse who needed to be calmed. "Yes, I lied. I purposefully deceived you. I'm sorry. Please, understand that I am helping you. I know you're in pain, but once this is all over, you're going to thank me. I know it."
"I hate you," Merlin snapped at him. For a moment, both men seemed shocked at the words that came from Merlin's mouth. Merlin's face twisted up at him, his mouth setting in a hard line. Arthur had never before seen that look on Merlin's face, except for the only time that Arthur witnessed Merlin use magic. When Merlin had wielded his magic, that same twisted look of anger had warped the beautiful face Arthur had grown to love.
"I hate you." Merlin said it again, channeling every last ounce of anger and fear and betrayal. His magic felt thin and brittle. Never before had Merlin felt so helpless, so powerless. He was like this because of Arthur, and the debauched views on magic that Uther had drilled into his head. Merlin had fought so hard for Arthur to see how things were, but in the end, the clotpole was too much of a selfish bastard to really see Merlin for who he was. Merlin was a sorcerer. He wasn't evil, he wasn't corrupted. He was just Merlin. And yet, here Arthur stood, ripping away part of Merlin's very soul so that he would fit into Arthur's perfect little world like a doll.
"I know this isn't you," Arthur said, trying to reach for Merlin again, but he paused when he saw Merlin flinch away from him, his eyes burning with fear and betrayal and hurt and rage. Arthur sighed and moved off the bed and across the room to his desk. He took his seat there.
"This isn't your fault. I know that." Arthur muttered, as if to himself. "But you're making this more difficult than it needs to be. Why can't you see that I'm trying to help you?"
"I would rather you have burned me in the courtyard," Merlin said bitterly. Succumbing to the pain, Merlin curled himself into a ball and cried, no longer paying Arthur any attention.
"I would have fallen on my sword before I did that to you." Arthur replied, although he was no longer sure that Merlin was listening. "I love you too much to lose you Merlin. You'll see. Soon everything will be back to how it was. You'll thank me one day."
And so they stayed that way for the rest of the night. Merlin, sobbing and writhing in pain on the bed and Arthur, watching from his seat at his desk praying that it would be over soon.
It wasn't.
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