The Warlock and the Dragonlord

Kidnapping scene, if that bothers you, don't read (though it'll be sad if you have to leave for that reason, I'll miss you, but I understand). It is nothing intense, not even a little blood shed.
...
Arthur hummed to himself, messing with his backpack strap as he walked home, keeping an eye toward the alley that Merlin usually waited for him in. It had been a great Christmas break with his sister, and he'd been happy that Merlin had joined in with them quite a few of the days, even meeting one of Morgana's friends' Guinevere. He'd seemed most relaxed around her friendly nature than Morgana; his sister always having such a dominating trait. Arthur grew up with it, and even he occasionally had to force himself not to meekly do as she ordered.

He'd joked wit his sister that she should have been in Slytherin with her friend Morgause because of that, and yet he knew that even though she was wily, super intelligent, and knew how to manipulate to get her way, those weren't the defining traits about her. She definitely had class, bravery, kindness, and of course her love for learning. The older he got, the harder it was to classify her sister into one class. He wondered how the hat was able to sort people when there are so many defining attributes in every person, some of them contradicting.

It felt a little strange to be put into a box like that, if he was honest. Especially since Slytherin seemed to get a bad rep. Then again, so did Hufflepuff. A lot of people assumed the idiot and weak people went there, which was definitely not the case either.

It was somehow easier this time around to see his sister during the holidays. He loved Morgana, and wanted the best for her, of course, but he'd always had to fight down the jealousy that hit him anytime she was around or he thought about her going to magic school without him. He'd always felt inadequate beside her growing up; she was perfect, and father so obviously loved her. She did no wrong in his eyes, and Arthur himself was almost convinced that it was true as well. She was an amazing sister, always supportive of him, and he hated that he couldn't be in Hogwarts with her.

But having Merlin with them, and having Merlin's secret magic… somehow, it made it easier to exist in the same room without any bitterness. He had a great friend, and… he even somehow had a taste of magic. He could feel it in the day to day, even if he couldn't use it. And that was something special to him. It felt as though he had a purpose in his life, something more than just becoming the heir of his father's company — something which he had never wanted before, but had seemed like it would become his life anyway. His friendship with merlin ,and the connection with his magic, had definitely pulled him out of his apathy, for which he was grateful for.

But suddenly he was stopping in place, his smile disappearing as that same magic he'd been feeling for weeks now suddenly shifted from the subtle undercurrent of content lingering into something more severe. It took him a long moment, but then the pure rawness of it — the sharp, quick swirling that seemed to raise the hairs on his arm and made him look over his shoulder — made him recognize it almost instinctively as a deeply-rooted terror.

A terror Arthur knew Merlin had for anyone figuring out about what he could do. About anyone finding out about his magic, and coming to take him away. That was the only thing, besides his loved ones being hurt, that could cause Merlin that much outright horror, and knowing that this feeling of fear came from Merlin and not himself was alarming. He'd never wanted his friend to go through those nightmares.

After those few seconds it took Arthur to process it, he took off at a sprint, heading for Merlin's alley, their typical meeting place from before when Arthur would get out of school, and now only used on the days that Arthur had football practice after classes. As he got near the opening, he slowed to a stop, peeking around the corner to take in the scene.

His breath hitched as panic flooded up his throat at the man that crouched on the floor, a wand held in his hand out by his side, back facing Arthur. Merlin lay stiff in front of him, as though bound, but the terror seeping into Arthur told him that he was still awake, just… unable to move?

Arthur opened his mouth to call out. He wasn't sure what would come, some sort of scream to scare him away, or for Merlin, but before he could utter a sound through half frozen lips, he he head a sharp crack, and suddenly both of them disappeared.

Arthur blinked, stunned, his gut still swirling with panic, his mind disbelieving what he'd just seen, and fear for his friend forefront. It was only when he heard someone's footsteps approaching on the cement through the crunch of snow that Arthur finally turned away. His hands trembled at the force of Merlin's fear, still prominent, and the shock of obviously seeing magic performed right in front of him on his only friend.

It was only at the last frantic thought that he suddenly jerked suddenly out of his shock, and he broke into a run, determined to get home. He didn't know what to do, how he could help his friend, except...

Morgana. He needed to send a letter to Morgana. She would help. She would know what to do. His sister would know how to get his friend, maybe who took him. Maybe some people who can help find him.

He didn't remember the route home, any people he'd passed. He probably looked a bit crazy — he didn't care. He only zoned back in when he got to the penthouse and was ripping a paper out of a notebook and grabbing a pen.

Morgana's owl had come to him last night and since he'd not finished his reply back, Hunith had stayed with him. In that moment, he was eternally grateful for his past self's tiredness, because otherwise he wouldn't have Hunith with him at the moment, and who knew how soon Morgana would send him another letter. He wouldn't have had any way of reaching his sister!

Morgana was usually pretty good with owling about once a week, but Merlin could be… well, Arthur couldn't dare wait a week before getting help. The one and a half to two days it would take for the letter to arrive to Morgana, would be a long enough wait.

"Morgana, it's an emergency, please respond quickly. Please come home and bring help. Merlin was taken. I saw it happen, but was too late to help. The guy used magic on him, did some sort of paralyzing spell or something then he disappeared. Merlin didn't want me to tell anyone, but I figure at this point it doesn't matter, because I just need to know where he was taken and save him, and his fear had already come to pass, and this might help him now. Merlin has magic. He's always been terrified of anyone finding out about it, says his mom told him that something like this could happen to him, so he has never really told a soul. I only know on accident.

Morgana, please, please, I need you. I don't know who else to turn to. We gotta get him back."

He wrote the words as quick as he could, not caring about mistakes, not even entirely sure what he'd written beyond pure desperation, and not caring that his hand shook so bad that some of the words smudged or were hard to read. She'd understand.

She would come. Arthur knew she would.

He tied it to Hunith's leg (the stupid knot taking two more times than usually necessary since he couldn't stop trembling), sending her off. "Please hurry, Hunith. Merlin needs us now."

Maybe the bird understood his worry, because it didn't hesitate as it jumped out, flying possibly faster than he'd ever seen.

Arthur sunk to the floor, hands clenched on the carpet below him and heart beating frantically as he willed himself to calm down.

It took awhile to fight through the anxiety, but as soon as he was able to calm his breathing, settling his mind into some form of coherency, he grabbed his notebook again, writing down everything he could remember from the kidnapping. Everything about what the guy was wearing; some weird robes similar to what Morgana wore to school. He jotted down the color, and how they seemed to be some expensive silk or something. He wrote down what he saw of the hair. The wand. None of it would really be much help, he figured, but he had to make sure everything stayed fresh in his mind. Any detail could count, and he would do all he could to help. At the moment, that help wasn't much, but this was the best he could do.

The magic swirled quicker in Arthur again, like before when Merlin had been panicking. Arthur put a hand to his diaphragm and took a deep breath, leaning forward and trying to send soothing thoughts to his friend. I'm coming for you, Merlin. I'll find you, I promise.

And maybe the swirling slowed slightly, and maybe Merlin could actually feel his determination, but either way, Arthur took one more deep breath and set his shoulders. He would not let his friend down.