A/N: Hi everyone, this is just a little plotbunny that kept distracting me while I was trying to write The Epic Adventures of Emrys. For my EAE readers, be warned, this is a very different sort of story, it's kind of half slash and a lot darker, but I enjoyed writing it so I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Rated T for swearing.
There is love in your body but you can't hold it in
It pours from your eyes and it spills from your skin
Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks
And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts
There is love in your body but you can't get it out
It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth
Sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face
That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste
~Hardest of Hearts, by Florence + The Machine
Gwaine stifled a moan of pain as he shifted his back against the slimy dungeon wall. He could feel the chill from the damp stone creeping all the way down into his bones, and he was sure that he was going to have chainmail patterned bruises on his buttocks, but there was very little he could do to alleviate his discomfort. He was seated on the hard dirt floor with his hands chained above his head. Around him were the other members of Camelot's diplomatic party to Escetia, all in similar uncomfortable positions.
To his left, Merlin also shifted uncomfortably. Merlin's left leg was bent at the knee, bracing the servant against the floor so that he could drape his warm right leg over Gwaine's left thigh. Merlin was trying to apply pressure to a knife wound that had come dangerously close to the knight's artery, but the servant's hands were also shackled above his head. Gwaine felt a little dizzy from blood loss and he was shivering uncontrollably. He was sure that it was only due to his friend's efforts that he hadn't already passed out.
"If you w-wanted to s-sit on my lap Merlin, you j-just h-had to ask," Gwaine joked, in an effort to distract himself from the pain radiating up and down his leg.
The servant snorted and shifted again, trying to get more comfortable in his awkward position. "Even If I wanted to sit on your lap, I'm starting to think that my full weight on your thigh wouldn't be enough to stop you from bleeding. " Merlin grinned mischievously. "Percy's weight on the other hand…"
Gwaine waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the large knight chained across from them. "How about it then Percy? Want to s-sit on my lap?" Gwaine mentally cursed his chattering teeth.
Leon huffed with amusement and Elyan grinned. "If I sat on your lap, I would crush your manhood and leave you unable to ever again please a woman," Percival deadpanned, earning a loud guffaw of laughter from Merlin and the knights.
"This is no time for jokes!" Snapped Lord Elsren, the man who would have been Camelot's ambassador to Escetia if everything hadn't gone to hell.
"I can think of no better time for jokes, Lord Elsren," Arthur said mildly from his corner of the dungeon, failing to conceal his own amusement.
Apparently, in the castle the new King of Escetia had chosen to inhabit, the dungeon was composed of a single large room lined with manacles rather than a series of individual cells. Gwaine thought this was rather fortunate. After all, imprisonment is much more fun when you're in good company.
After the death of King Cenred, Escetia had fallen into chaos, and it seemed like a new ruler was crowned every month. King Ancel had wrested power from the rest of the Escetian lords and crowned himself king over the winter, and this spring had sent a missive to Camelot suggesting an alliance. Ancel's rule had seemed to be the most stable and promising one since Cenred's downfall, and Arthur had hoped for a fresh start between Camelot and Escetia.
Arthur had decided to personally lead the diplomatic party (although Merlin had tried to talk him out of it). He had wanted to meet Ancel in person and judge for himself what sort of King he was.
Unfortunately, Ancel had turned out to be the deceitful, dishonourable and dastardly sort of King. The wine he had served, "to refresh them after their long journey", had been drugged. Gwaine had managed to resist the soporific more easily than the others, perhaps because he was so accustomed to being intoxicated, and had lashed out at the guards dragging him. Regrettably this had resulted in nothing more than an ugly stab wound in his thigh and a splitting headache after they had knocked him unconscious the old fashioned way.
He had awoken in the dungeon about twenty minutes ago and still had no clear idea of what Ancel planned to do with them. Only the noble members of their party were here (as well as Merlin, for some reason), and Gwaine suspected that the rest were dead.
Lord Elsren sniffed his disapproval of Arthur's amusement. "Perhaps instead of making childish jokes we should be making a plan. I refuse to die in this godforsaken dungeon."
Arthur sighed with impatience. "If all they wanted was to kill us the wine would have been poisoned, not drugged. I suspect that Ancel means to force me to sign over Camelot to his rule. When I refuse, he will torture me and probably all of you as well in an attempt to break me, and when that doesn't work he will kill us and attack Camelot directly, hoping that Guinevere will be weakened by grief." The King spoke calmly and without inflection, and Gwaine was impressed once again by his courage.
"Well then, we'll just have to escape," Merlin said, just as matter of fact as Arthur about their situation.
The King rolled his eyes. "If you have any brilliant plans I'm all ears, Merlin. Rather like you, in fact."
The servant glared at the King and then leaned back against the wall, looking pensive. His fingers tapped restlessly against the floor and he seemed to be deep in thought. Gwaine wondered what on earth was running through his head. His face was twitching and he looked extremely conflicted. "The best lies are woven from truth," Merlin murmured, seemingly to himself.
The silence settled heavily into the dungeon as the captives considered their probable fate. This wasn't the first time Gwaine had been imprisoned, and he hoped that it wouldn't be the last. Sort of. The knight snorted quietly. He suspected that the loss of blood was starting to affect his ability to think clearly. It was sort of like being drunk.
Gods he wished he had a drink to take the edge off…
A metallic clang nearby caused Merlin to twitch, and Gwaine winced at the added pressure on his wound. The knight could hear several sets of footsteps approaching their little hellhole, and turned his attention to the iron door in the wall to his right.
Beside him, Merlin shifted again, straining against his chains to move as close to Gwaine as he could and whisper in his ear. "Gwaine, I'm going to do something to heal you, don't move and don't let anyone know that you're not still wounded."
Gwaine turned his head to look at the servant, confused. Something to heal him? Merlin's hands were trapped and he had no medical supplies, what could he possibly do?
Merlin closed his eyes and muttered something so quietly that not even Gwaine could make it out, and suddenly Gwaine felt a gentle wave of… something flow from Merlin's leg and into his. His eyes widened as the pain eased and he literally felt the wound weave itself back together.
He stared at his friend in astonishment. Merlin opened his eyes and smiled weakly at him. Gwaine's thoughts raced. That was magic. There was nothing else it could have been. Merlin was a sorcerer, and obviously he didn't want Arthur to know. He gave his friend a subtle nod, and Merlin relaxed minutely next to him.
Gwaine's head continued to spin. Merlin was a sorcerer. A sorcerer, living in the middle of Camelot, right under the King's nose. The knight was shocked. He never would have guessed that brave, clumsy, friendly, hard-working Merlin was a sorcerer, and yet it made an odd sort of sense. Gwaine felt the first stirrings of hope in his chest. Merlin was a sorcerer, and a fairly powerful one it seemed. They might actually have a chance of getting out of here.
Gwaine glanced quickly around the dungeon. All the knights, the King and Lord Elsren were looking at the door, and none of them had noticed Merlin's subtle spell-casting.
The approaching footsteps paused, and then the door swung outward with an ominous creak.
A grizzled mercenary stepped through, glanced around the dungeon, and then stepped to the side, and in walked King Ancel himself. The King wore rich, impractical clothing in a shade of deep green that looked well with his auburn hair and beard. He was in his early thirties, a man just beginning to fade from his physical prime. He had a reputation for ruthlessness and unpredictability. His eyes glinted with satisfaction as he scanned the occupants of the dungeon, and then fastened on Arthur.
"Arthur Pendragon." His voice was deep and mocking. "I hope you are enjoying my hospitality."
Arthur's eyes flashed with fury and he leaned forwards to confront the malicious king who towered over him, not in the least bit intimidated. "We came here in all good faith to form an alliance, and you betrayed our trust. Do you really think you'll be able to get away with this? No other kingdom will agree to treat with you when they learn what you have done." Arthur paused for dramatic effect. "Furthermore, imprisoning a king is an act of war. Camelot is the greatest military power in Albion. You cannot hope to win the war you have started. If you let us go now, before this goes any further, we will overlook this grievous insult and leave you in peace. If not, my Queen will be forced to take military action against you and I will laugh when my knights destroy your pathetic army of mercenaries."
Ancel stared at Arthur for a second, and then burst out laughing. "Oh, young bear-king, how you roar! Do you really think that your words will sway me? It is far too late to change my plans, what I have set in motion cannot be stopped. No, you will soon learn that here, you are nothing." Ancel smirked, and Gwaine felt a shiver go down his spine, and this time it wasn't from the cold. "I have no fear of Camelot's armies. Your Queen won't even know that anything is amiss until I ride into Camelot with a signed document giving me full rights to your kingdom."
"I will never sign such a document!" Arthur exclaimed, futilely pulling against his chains.
"Oh but you will," Ancel replied with another spine-chilling smile. "When I am done with you, you will be begging me to let you sign it."
Ancel gestured to the mercenaries, and they released Arthur and hauled him roughly to his feet. Arthur tried to fight them, but froze when a blade was held against his throat.
"Do not struggle, Arthur Pendragon. The harder you fight me, the more you will hurt. Do not prolong the inevitable."
Ancel turned to sweep out of the dungeons, gesturing for his men to follow him and bring Arthur. Gwaine turned to look at Merlin, heart beating rapidly in his chest. If Merlin could do something, now was the time.
"Wait!" Merlin called out to King Ancel, his voice rough but confident. "I have a proposition for you."
Ancel turned to look at him, eyebrow raised. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"
"Shut up, Merlin!" Arthur hissed, glaring at his servant. Gwaine could see Arthur's fear for Merlin in the King's eyes, but he doubted that Ancel would recognize it as fear and not anger.
Merlin straightened as much as he could, and looked Ancel full in the face. Not once did his gaze shift to Arthur. "I am guessing that you are planning to create some sort of story to tell Guinevere and the court about how Arthur met his demise and willingly signed Camelot over to you. I have been Arthur's manservant for seven years, I am trusted by the court and a good friend of the Queen. If I tell her you speak the truth she will believe me."
Gwaine stared at Merlin in shock, his expression mirrored on the faces of the other captured knights. He had hoped that Merlin had a plan, but this wasn't quite what he had imagined. He hoped his friend knew what he was doing.
"An interesting proposition indeed," said Ancel, "but by all accounts you are unfailingly loyal to your King. Why should I trust you to do as you say?"
Merlin smiled, and it was a smile almost as cold as Ancel's. "I will happily lie to the Queen, in exchange for my life and my freedom. But more than that, I will forge the King's signature on whatever documents you desire, if," Merlin paused, and Gwaine almost shuddered at his suddenly feral expression, "you let me torture Arthur."
Gwaine gaped at him. He honestly couldn't tell if Merlin was just acting or if the malice in his gaze was real.
"Traitorous bastard!" Yelled Lord Elsren. The knights seemed to be frozen in shock. Arthur looked stunned. "Merlin," he choked, "what the hell are you doing?"
"What I should have done a long time ago," said Merlin. "Tospringe!"
Arthur gaped in shock as Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the manacles fell away from his hands. Merlin stood up and, rubbing his wrists, walked forward leisurely to stand in front if Arthur.
"Seven years," Merlin spat, "seven years I've been your manservant. Seven years of polishing your armour and mucking out your stables. Seven years of having the shit beat out of me on the training field against knights twice my size, seven years of having goblets thrown at my head, seven years of having to hide my magic and watching you kill my people and for what?" Merlin's voice was slowly increasing in volume until he was yelling in Arthur's face. "Not once have you even thanked me! I drank poison for you, faced down dragons for you, fought immortal armies for you, and how have you repayed me? You're an idiot Merlin, you're useless Merlin, you're the worst manservant I've ever had, Merlin! You treat me like I'm nothing!" Merlin was now standing toe to toe with Arthur, who was gaping at him in mute astonishment and pain. The servant's face seemed to soften for a moment, and then harden again. "Seven years," he whispered, "seven years of loving you, having to watch you fall in love with that traitorous bitch Guinevere. No more. Now I'm going to hurt you just as much as you've hurt me."
Merlin leaned forward and took Arthur's lips in a long, vicious kiss. Arthur made a strangled sound and tried to move away but the mercenaries held him firmly in place.
Merlin stepped back, and Arthur looked like he'd been hit by a runaway cart.
Gwaine was in shock. He had sometimes wondered if Merlin felt more for Arthur than simple loyalty and friendship. The things he did for Arthur went above and beyond the bonds of both. Merlin had always had a subtle air of sadness around him, a hidden pain that Gwaine caught rare glimpses of, but he had never been bitter. Gwaine hadn't thought Merlin was even capable of the hatred and bitterness he was displaying now.
"Well, well, well," said Ancel. "I believe I shall accept your proposition, sorcerer. If you can forge his signature, you may do with Arthur whatever pleases you. I could use a man of your talents in my court, and your efforts on my behalf would not go unrewarded."
Merlin smiled a predatory smile. "Thank you, my King," he said, and bowed to Ancel. "If you leave him here for now, I will come with you and sign anything you need. I've been helping him write official court documents for years," the servant sneered. Merlin reached out and stroked Arthur's face in a strange parody of a loving caress. Arthur turned his head away with a shudder, and Merlin leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I'll come back for you, soon." Arthur shivered at the malicious intent in his voice.
Ancel swept out of the dungeon and Merlin followed behind him. The mercenaries easily forced a shocked Arthur back to the wall and fastened the shackles around his wrists once again. The door swung shut behind them with a clang that Gwaine could feel in his bones.
There were a few moments of tense, disbelieving silence, and then Elyan spoke up. "What," he rasped, "the hell just happened?"
"Merlin just betrayed us," said Percival in disbelief.
"I'm not sure he did," reasoned Leon, "maybe it was just part of his plan. He stopped them from torturing Arthur."
"I don't think he betrayed us," said Gwaine. He was still stunned by what he had just witnessed, but he didn't believe that he could have been so wrong about his friend. He felt that he owed it to Merlin to trust him. "He healed my leg. If he didn't care what happened to us then he wouldn't have bothered." Gwaine shifted his leg so they could see that it was indeed healed.
"Whether he's betrayed us or not," said Elyan admiringly, "he's an incredible player. Telling Ancel that he was in love with Arthur was brilliant, I almost believed him. And I never guessed that he knew magic."
"He's a filthy sorcerer," spat Lord Elsren. "He'd do anything to save his own skin. He's probably been plotting against Camelot for years and now he has the perfect chance to destroy it."
"Merlin is a sorcerer." Arthur's voice was flat with shock. The King had drawn his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes. His head was bowed. "Merlin's a sorcerer, and he kissed me."
Gwaine couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The normally strong and collected King sounded so lost, like the foundations he'd built his life upon had crumbled beneath him.
"Yes, Sire," said Gwaine softly, "but I think he's trying to help."
Time passed, and Merlin did not return. The prisoners sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. The sun began to set, and what little light came through the small slits in the wall high above them crawled across the floor and faded.
There was nothing for them to do but wait. They had no viable plans, no way to free themselves. They could only wait, and hope that Merlin had not betrayed them.
Gwaine spent the time thinking about what he knew about Merlin, and wishing he had something to drink. Something strong.
Merlin was the best man he knew. He was brave, and kind, and honourable. He was fiercely protective of those he cared about, stubborn to fault, and he had the biggest heart of anyone Gwaine had ever met. If Merlin truly was in love with Arthur, then he was a better man than even Gwaine had ever given him credit for.
Gwaine knew a bit about sorcery, even though that kind of knowledge was forbidden in Camelot. Healing a stab wound like his was no ordinary trick, it took a lot of knowledge and power to accomplish something like that. The knight tried to imagine what it would be like, to have such power and yet work as a servant, to be so close to the man you loved every day but know that he would never love you in return. Gwaine tried to imagine such a life, and decided that he really couldn't blame Merlin if he had finally snapped and betrayed them.
Despite his maudlin thoughts and uncomfortable position, Gwaine managed to drift off to sleep. He was awoken by the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the dungeon, and then the door swung open with a loud creak.
Gwaine tensed, waiting for the next blow fate had decided to deal them, and then sighed with relief when Merlin entered, awkwardly juggling a torch and an armful of swords.
"Merlin! Took you long enough." Merlin grinned at him gratefully and dumped the swords in the middle of the dungeon.
"Sorry," he said, "I had to wait for them to go to bed before I could sneak away. I've put Ancel and his court under a sleeping spell but it will only last a few hours. I've already destroyed the documents he wanted Arthur to sign." He hurried around the room, releasing the knights from their shackles with a touch and a word. Lord Elsren flinched away from him, but Merlin just rolled his eyes and released him.
"What trick is this, sorcerer?" Said the mistrustful lord.
"My name is Merlin, and this is not a trick, it's an escape."
"Why should we trust you?"
Merlin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Because you have no better options." Lord Elsren slowly took a sword from the pile but never took his eyes off of the sorcerer.
Merlin crouched in front of the King, who refused to meet his eyes.
"Arthur?" Merlin said softly, almost fearfully. "You know I didn't mean any of what I said, don't you?"
Arthur raised his head and glared at Merlin with such vehemence that even Gwaine was a little taken aback.
"Don't you dare lie to me, sorcerer, you meant every word." The king spat the words at his servant, and Merlin flinched.
"No, I didn't. I could never hurt you. Never." Merlin caught and held Arthur's eyes with his own, silently begging the King to believe him as he reached up and opened his shackles with only a touch. Arthur lowered his arms but stayed seated on the floor.
"You already have," he whispered, and Gwaine saw Merlin blink back tears as he turned away from his King and strode towards the door.
"Right," Elyan broke the silence, "what's the plan, Merlin?"
Merlin led the way past the sleeping guards and out to the stables.
Most of the guards they passed were slumped against walls or lying prone on the floor, fast asleep. The party from Camelot walked past them as quietly as they could and found most of their possessions in the stables. They quickly saddled their horses and left through the main gate, which Merlin opened with his magic. Gwaine looked back several times but no one pursued them.
They galloped through the night and into the following day, eating in the saddle and not stopping until they had passed the border into Camelot. They finally stopped to rest in a small town with an inn.
Arthur hadn't spoken to or even looked at Merlin since they fled the castle.
The inn was small, with only two beds available. Arthur and Lord Elsren each took one, leaving Merlin and the knights to sleep on the floor.
Gwaine was so tired that he didn't care how uncomfortable sleeping on the floor was, as long as his hands were unchained and he had a blanket.
Arthur had fallen into bed immediately and passed out, completely worn out by the ordeals of the past few days, and probably longing for oblivion.
Gwaine could see Merlin lying awake on the floor next to him. The servant looked haggard and exhausted, but he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling and didn't close his eyes.
"Merlin," said Gwaine tiredly, "get some sleep, things will look better in the morning. Arthur will forgive you."
"Thanks Gwaine," said Merlin quietly, "but I'm not sure that he will. I've been lying to him for so long now that sometimes I can't even remember what the truth is."
"You did what you had to do, that's the only truth he needs to know. He'll come around eventually."
"I hope so," said Merlin wearily, "but until he does I can't go back to Camelot."
"What? You don't think Arthur would execute you!" Gwaine tried and failed to keep his voice quiet.
"I can't take that chance, I can't put him in that position." Merlin's voice was choked. "I couldn't bear it if he… if he hated me that much. I just can't…" Merlin trailed off.
"Alright," said Gwaine, sitting up, "then we'll go somewhere else."
Merlin smiled sadly. "You're the best friend I have Gwaine, but I can't let you do that, you have a life in Camelot now." Gwaine saw a tear roll down Merlin's cheek. "Besides, I need you to protect Arthur, he can be such an oblivious prat, he needs someone to look out for him, and if I can't be there then at least you can send for me if something magical attacks Camelot."
Gwaine felt a little choked up himself. He couldn't bear to see Merlin so broken. "I promise," he said solemnly, "I promise to protect him from harm." Gwaine sighed. "He doesn't deserve you, you know. Or me."
That managed to get a small but genuine smile out of Merlin. "I know," he whispered. He sat up and started gathering up his things. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "I'll be back in a minute to say goodbye, I just have to do something first."
Gwaine lay back down and tried not to fall asleep, even though his whole body ached and his eyelids felt heavier than anvils.
Merlin returned a while later with nothing but a letter in his hand. Gwaine watched as he walked over to Arthur's bed and quietly placed the letter next to his pillow. Merlin hesitated, and then he gently stroked the King's hair away from his forehead and leaned down to press a kiss on his brow, and then another on his lips. Merlin's first kiss in the dungeon had been vicious and dominating, taking pleasure without giving anything in return. His second kiss was careful, tender, giving everything but taking nothing. Arthur sighed in his sleep, but didn't wake. "Goodbye, prat," Merlin murmured, and then he turned away and walked towards the door, stepping over Leon as he did so. He looked back at Gwaine and smiled sadly, eyes glittering with unshed tears.
"Goodbye Gwaine. I'll miss you," whispered the sorcerer. "If you ever need me, I'll be in Ealdor. Look after him." Gwaine nodded, eyes stinging, and then Merlin walked out the door without looking back again.
As tired as he was, sleep eluded the heart-sore knight.
Arthur believed that Merlin's confession of love had been false, just the final lie he needed to convince Ancel that Merlin truly desired to hurt his King. After all, love and hate are just two sides of the same coin. But Gwaine knew better.
The best lies are woven from truth.
Merlin loved Arthur in a way that Gwaine almost couldn't comprehend. It was an infinite, quiet, unconditional sort of love that made Gwaine's heart ache. What would it be like, to be loved so deeply? Could Arthur really bear to let Merlin go so easily? Gwaine knew that Arthur would soon realize just what he had lost.
The knight shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable on the floor, and rubbed the leg that just yesterday had been wounded. No matter what tomorrow would bring, he felt certain that Camelot had not seen the last of Merlin.
Gwaine smiled, finally comfortable, and fell asleep.
A/N: This is my first attempt at slash, so please tell me what you think about it.