Category: Gen (Canon)
Characters/Parings: Merlin, Arthur. No pairings.
Rating/Warnings: T. Merlin whump, descriptive.
Setting: Between series 2 and 3
Author's note: This was written for the Christmas exchange on Heart of Camelot where they wanted a Merlin whump story where Merlin is the one being tortured, not Arthur, and has to decide between revealing himself or keeping his magic secret and suffering. :)
Disclaimer: Merlin does not belong to me, however the bandits do. :P
Out of the Fire
Chapter 1:
"This is all your fault, Merlin!" Arthur shouted, panting heavily as he ran for all he was worth.
"How...is it my...fault?" Merlin panted, glancing over at the King.
Arthur started to reply, but an arrow whistling by his head stopped him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the bandits slowly drawing closer. Turning back around, he sprinted as fast as he could, Merlin right beside him. Neither were sure how long they had been running; all they knew was that at least two dozen bandits were slowly gaining on them.
The prince looked around, scanning the ground ahead of them with a practiced eye. There was nothing before them but thin woods with trees spread out, creating open spaces below. Arthur bit back a curse as he stumbled over a tree root, his ankle twisting slightly. Despite the pain, he kept running, ignoring it to the best of his ability.
"Over there!" Merlin exclaimed, motioning to his left.
Arthur looked to the left and saw, partially hidden in the dark of the forest, a large pile of rocks. No other words were needed as the two turned, heading straight toward the rocks. Behind them they could hear the bandits stumbling in their pursuit. They had just a hundred yards to the rocks when the ground seemed to open up beneath them.
Merlin fell first, reaching up and shouting as he clawed at the ground. Arthur managed to leap to the side, landing hard with legs dangling over the hole. He reached out, managing to grab a tree root. The ground crumbled around him and he tightened his grip on the root. Beside him he saw Merlin slipping, his grip on the ground loosening. Arthur reached out quickly, grabbing Merlin's arm just as the ground gave way.
"Th...thanks." Merlin panted, grasping Arthur's wrist tightly with both hands.
"I swear, Merlin," Arthur grunted, tightening his grip on the tree root. "One of these days I'm going to just quit saving you."
"Unconsiderate prat." Merlin muttered, looking down.
"What did you say?" Arthur asked.
"Nothing." Merlin said quickly. "What do we do now?"
Arthur was about answer when he was cut off as something tightened around his other wrist and began pulling him up. Hands grabbed onto him as they lifted him over the edge of the hole. He felt Merlin's hand slip from his as he was jerked to his feet, hands clasping around his arms to hold him in place.
Automatically he started struggling, jerking his arms forward and kicking backwards in an attempt to shake his captors. He brought his elbow back, landing a lucky blow into one man's sternum. The man gasped, his grip loosening just enough for Arthur to break free. With his one free arm, he spun and punched his other captor in the nose, wrenching his other arm free. He moved quickly, reaching around and grabbing the sword from the man's waist.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A smooth voice warned.
Arthur turned toward the voice, sword held up, ready to be used. He froze when he saw Merlin on his knees, a dagger at his throat. Merlin's neck was stretched back, his breathing shallow as he tried not to move for fear of the blade cutting into his throat. Arthur looked up from his manservant and his mouth fell open in shock as he saw a woman holding Merlin hostage.
She was small, probably only about five foot three. Her black hair was long, seperated into two braids that were then braided together and left hanging down her back. She wore a too-large green shirt that hung to the middle of her thighes; a sword hung at her waist along with two dagger sheaths. Perhaps the most unsettling, however, were her eyes. They were black, pure black.
"Put the sword down," she said, the smallest hint of a smirk crossing her lips. "Or your friend here dies."
"He's not my friend." Arthur denied, refusing to look at the hurt look on Merlin's face.
The woman simply shrugged uncaringly and met Arthur's eyes. A small grin broke across her face, a cruel grin that didn't reach her eyes.
"In that case we have no need for him." She didn't look down as her hand moved across, ready to draw the knife across Merlin's neck.
"No!" Arthur exclaimed, stepping forward. He dropped the sword, tossing it away, and brought his hands up to his shoulders, showing them to be empty. "He has nothing to do with this, let him go."
"Arthur..." Merlin began to say, but his head was jerked back as the knife ever so slightly cut into his skin. A thin stream of blood seeped out and down his neck.
"I don't think so, Arthur Pendragon." The woman's voice was smooth as silk, the dangerous tone carefully concealed. "You have just failed rule number one: never show a weakness to an enemy." She gave a soft, emotionless laugh. "No, I believe your friend will be coming with us. Restrain him."
The two bandits were on him quickly, wrenching his arms behind him and fastening them tightly with rope. Arthur struggled slightly, but the sight of Merlin on his knees, neck trickling blood with the dagger still at his throat prevented him from struggling as hard as he normally would.
The woman kept her knife at Merlin's throat, her eyes never leaving Arthur's. Once Arthur was securly tied, she removed her knife, wiping the blood off on her black pants. She nodded and two more bandits came forward and wrenched Merlin to his feet, tying his hands behind his back as well. Merlin struggled to free himself, but a swift slap to the face ceased those efforts.
"What do you want with us?" Arthur asked, glaring at their captors.
"I would think that would be an easy question," the woman laughed, a cold, emotionless laugh. "Ransom of course. And..." she broke off, licking her lips, her black eyes flickering between Merlin and Arthur before resting on Arthur. "Some personal pleasure."
Merlin and Arthur glanced at each other, neither liking how that sounded. Arthur looked back to the woman and took a breath, suddenly nervous of where this was going.
"Let us go now and I can promise you," he tried, "You will not be harmed and will recieve a fair trial. Release us now and your punishment will not be hard."
Laughter sounded from all around as the bandits began cackling like a bunch of hyenas. Only the woman remained silent, though she allowed herself a humorless grin. The laughter continued for a few moments, before she held her hand up and the bandits ceased laughter immediatly, returning back to seriousness.
"You are an amusing man, Arthur Pendragon." she said, the smile fading and a look of cold hatred forming. "And an arrogant one. Why should we surrender to you and face execution when you are our captive?"
Arthur opened his mouth, but shut it as he realized he couldn't argue with that logic. The woman grinned in triumph and stepped toward the king. Arthur stiffened as she drew close, but refused to move. He stared down at her and her grin turned to a frown. She brought her hand up and gently touched Arthur's cheek. Her hand was cold as ice and Arthur was reminded of a dead person's hand.
"You are indeed brave, little prince." she mused, cupping his chin and studying his face intently. "And strong. Strong of body and of mind. We shall see how long you last when we begin."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur asked, grateful as she removed her hand.
"You shall see." the woman replied mysteriously. "Cysgu."
Her eyes glowed a deep blood-red and Arthur's eyes barely had time to widen in shock before he was falling, eyes closed. He fell to the ground, completly limp, and the woman sneered at his sleeping body, kicking him once before turning to Merlin who was fighting against his captors, trying to get to Arthur.
"Now, now Merlin." the woman tisked, "You should be more careful. We wouldn't want you to get hurt now would we?"
"What did you do to him?" Merlin asked, glancing at Arthur's still form.
"A simple sleeping spell." the woman shrugged. "No harm has come to him, I assure you."
"Who are you?" Merlin asked, eyes narrowed as he studied the woman. "What do you want with us?"
Their was something about her, something not quite right. His magic swirled within him, reacting negativly to her presence. He had never felt anything quite like it before. There was darkness in her, that he was sure of, but her magic felt like nothing like the other sorcerers he had encounter over the years. And then there was her eyes, black as night and deep as a never ending pit. Their was something manical, something satanic in her eyes, but Merlin wasn't sure how he knew that.
"I am called Diedre." The woman answered. "I already told your friend what we want."
"But there's something more, isn't there." Merlin pressed, not quite sure how he knew that to be true.
"My, my, my. Aren't you the clever one." The grin was back and Merlin took a deep breath, refusing to allow her to see how she was unsettling him. "Of course we have another agenda, but why should I tell you? After all, you will find out soon enough."
She stepped toward him until there was just an arm's length between them. She looked at him, her eyes seeming to search deep into his very soul. Merlin swallowed nervously, resisting the urge to use his magic to free himself. Their was something wrong with this woman, he knew that, and the less she knew about him the better he would be.
"What are you hiding, Merlin?" Dierdre asked, voice pratically a whisper.
"Nothing." Merlin answered, his face as blank as he could make it.
"There is something about you," she murmered. She reached out and placed her hand on Merlin's cheek. "Something different."
Merlin felt his whole body freeze as she gently ran her hand over his face. Her hands were like those of a dead man's. They were cold, so cold that they chilled him to the bone. His magic fought to be released, to remove the hand from him, but he fought back. A sigh of relief escaped him as she finally removed her hand.
"There will be time to discover your secret later." she commented. "But for now, cysgu."
Merlin saw her eyes flame a deep crimson and his body seemed to grow heavy. He tried to fight back, but he was to late. His eyes closed and he felt himself begin to fall, but he never felt himself hit the ground.
Spell Translations
Note, Dierdre's spells are all in Welsh while Merlin's will remain in Old English as per the show. (Welsh translations taken from If any translations are wrong, I aplogize, other languages are not my strong point at all and I am severally limited.)
Cysgu-To sleep
Diedre- Welsh spelling of "Deirdre" meaning sorrow