Evil when we are in its power is not felt as evil but as a necessity, or even a duty.
The whole thing had started with the nightmares. It was only a few weeks before the battle when they first started coming, and they were vicious. Merlin sometimes had his few shares of nightmares but none like these merciless night terrors. They sent him into screaming, shaking terror and he barely managed to jerk awake from them. They left him not wanting to ever sleep again. Nothing seemed to work against them. Merlin tried spells and Gaius tried potions but nothing worked, not even Arthur holding him through the terror-filled nights helped. Merlin started to wonder if he had been cursed by someone or something. Arthur had his guards search both Merlin's and Arthur's bedchambers but they found nothing magical, something Merlin tried to explain to Arthur that he had already tried. Both of them had been desperate to find an answer.
"Gaius, please," in desperation Arthur had once again turned to Gaius for support on what was happening. "There must be something else going on here, this isn't normal. Merlin can not keep going on like this."
"I am sorry, sire," Gaius had said regretfully. "I regret to say that I have never known of any magic that work through dreams in this manner. There's nothing I can do for Merlin as of right now except keep giving him the dreamless potions."
Not that those were working anyway.
The night before the battle everything changed. Merlin had woken up in his own bed, with Arthur's arms once again around him, and realized that both of them were covered in blood. He had choked, frozen with fear, the last images of his nightmare still etched onto his mind. Arthur had woken up a few seconds later, horrified, as well and immediately ran from the room, screaming for Gaius. Everything seemed to move in a hazy wind, voices faded and everything blurred, and Merlin didn't quite understand why. His arms and most of his chest were covered in blood, yes, but he still didn't comprehend what was happening with him. Arthur had returned quickly, rolling Merlin gently onto his back and Merlin had let out a cry of immense pain. Merlin had passed out, only to awaken a few hours later, his arms covered in bandages. Arthur had explained that Merlin had several cuts all over his arms and when Merlin had explained to Arthur that they were dealing with a sorcerer, and a powerful one at that, the King's eyes turned into narrowed slits and his teeth had clenched together making a very painful sound.
A powerful sorcerer, indeed, one who had somehow managed to get into Merlin's head and twist around his thoughts, turning his fears against him. Merlin would never admit to Arthur who much this scared him, but if the nightmares were true Merlin had do everything to protect his King. The sorcerer was working with their enemies and tomorrow Merlin needed to face him, or this whole thing was going to end badly. Arthur refused, of course.
"Merlin, you are a moron if you think for a moment that I will let you anywhere near this sorcerer after last night's events."
"Arthur, you don't understand. Whoever this sorcerer is, he's powerful and dangerous. He managed to get into my head and play mind games with me. He's still in my head, I feel him everywhere I go. I need to do this. I am the only one who can stop him."
Arthur looked at Merlin, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes stern, but anxious. "No. You're not doing this. If this sorcerer is as powerful as you say, you're staying as far away as possible and believe me, Merlin; I will do whatever is necessary to make sure I get my way." Arthur gave Merlin a look, almost pleadingly as if saying, please Merlin, just stay away from it.
Merlin was desperate to get someone on his side, anyone. So he turned to his Queen. Gwen said the exact same thing as her husband had said to Merlin. That it was too dangerous for Merlin out there. Merlin tried his luck with Arthur again but only got an irritated look and a light scolding. It didn't seem to be working the nice way at all. Merlin could do this the easy way, or the hard way. Naturally he always tried the easy way first, but a sorcerer had to do what a sorcerer had to do to protect his King, friend and lover.
Merlin did the only thing he could. He disobeyed the King's orders. Again.
Merlin had a whole idea planned out in his head, little did he know that Arthur was expecting this off him, and only a few hours later, Merlin found himself locked in the King's bedchambers for 'his own safety' as the guards had told him when they forced him into the room. Merlin was outraged and he wasn't about to go down without a fight. Arthur was in danger, and this sorcerer was dangerous and something Camelot was not used to. Merlin had once promised to protect his King through and through and he wasn't about to stop now.
A few spells and knocked-out guards later, Merlin was well on his way out of Camelot on horseback.
He was already a few hours behind Arthur and the cavalry. He kept thinking back on it now, later, how things would've turned out if he stayed behind. But he couldn't find himself to think about it, because Arthur might've been dead. But Merlin had reached the hills of Deirans and everything had gone down just the way he had planned it. He had been met my some of the knights around the perimeter of the battlefield, and ignoring their shouts, he had ridden right into the war masses and right into the darkness. Merlin didn't make it far before he saw something that made his blood run cold in his veins and a rush of fear spread throughout his whole body.
Arthur had fallen, he was lying on his back, barely conscious and an unknown man in a black, long cape and hood covering his face was standing over him, his hand outstretched above Arthur, mumbling something under his breath in a foreign tongue that Merlin wasn't familiar at all with as Arthur gasped in pain, his body twitching horribly.
"Arthur, no!" Merlin yelled in horror, jumping off his horse.
The black-hooded man withdrew his hand and turned his attention to Merlin as he ran towards his fallen King. Arthur pushed himself up, his eyes widening in fear as he saw Merlin. "Merlin, no, run, get away from here now!" Something about the way Arthur was wincing in pain made fury rush through Merlin like wild-fire and he turned to the black-hooded man that was slowly approaching.
"Emrys," the man hissed in a whispery tone that made chills run down Merlin's spine. Merlin's jaw clenched and his whole body shook with anger.
"You're going to pay for doing this," Merlin said with hatred in his voice.
"The King will die," the man hissed poisonously and raised his hand towards Arthur.
Merlin saw red and a force so dark he almost scared himself rushed through his body, from his feet to his head and through his fingertips. A blackness Merlin wasn't used to but somehow, now, he found himself craving immensely. When Merlin's magic had been revealed to Arthur, he had reassured Merlin that he trusted him with his life and that he truly believed that Merlin's magic was good and that he didn't have an evil bone in his body. Merlin didn't feel like that right now, everything was red, and for the first time in his life he felt evil, and there was something so seductive about it. Merlin started hissing in a low tone as he slowly approached the dark-hooded man. The man just let out a dark laugh and raised his hand, sending out a wave of dark magic but Merlin barely staggered as he marched towards the man.
"Merlin, don't," he distantly heard the soft voice of Arthur.
For a brief moment, Merlin halted his steps, stilling, and his head ached slightly as he tried to squint through the dull ache. He glanced over at Arthur, his lover looking at him almost pleadingly and it made something in Merlin's stomach clench. "You are a fool, Emrys," whispered the man, and Merlin looked at the man hatefully. "And you will die with your King."
Merlin mumbled a few quiet, angry words and a pulse of blackness started to form around him, creating a bubble around, lingering, the darkness pulsating from it and into Merlin's body. Merlin gasped at the pain that slowly started spreading from his spine into his head. He was overdoing his power, his magic wasn't made for this kind of dark magic and he knew it, but there was no other way. Merlin let out a small cry of pain as the darkened bubble grew bigger, growing, physically and mentally, tearing hole in Merlin's mind. Merlin pushed more magic into the bubble forcing it away from him and sending it towards the other sorcerer. The bubble hit the other sorcerer like a bolt of lightning and there was a terrible cry of agony and Merlin was shocked to realize that it came from himself. Pain and darkness was coursing through him and he couldn't stop it. It felt like he couldn't see anything anymore, the black was suffocating him, taking over his very being and it felt like he was dying.
Merlin didn't have any concept of time or what was happening but through the darkness he felt and heard something. Cupping his face tenderly, a voice soft and desperate calling through the black fog. "Merlin, look at me. You are not this person." The black was still there, never-ending, all-consuming, but for a moment he could feel something else. "Come back. Don't let it take over you. Don't let this break us." The darkness was slowly ceasing, but the pain remained as he tried to focus.
He knew that voice, that pleading voice. "Please, Merlin."
Arthur.
I'm here. Help me.
Please.
Another surge of pain rushed through Merlin as he tried to speak, but everything was still black around him, but the constant darkness was slowly fading away, the after-taste leaving something bitter and guilt-wrecking behind. Something that Merlin knew he shouldn't be feeling, why did he feel like this?
"Don't let the darkness take you," a whispered, fervent pleading. "I need you."
I need you.
I need you, too.
Merlin felt like he was trapped in an ocean of darkness. He could see the light and he could hear Arthur's voice breaking through, he just needed to find the surface. But it all seemed so unclear, so uncertain, and so hazy. Merlin didn't know which way to turn. He was literally blind in all the darkness. One pull in the wrong direction could mean the end of everything. One pull in the wrong direction could mean he was lost forever.
One pull in the wrong direction and he might never see Arthur again; he would never feel Arthur's lips pressed gently against his.
Never.
Merlin, I need you. I need you by my side.
"Arthur," Merlin whispered, his voice finding him again.
And then he pulled. And he saw light and he could see again.
And he could feel again and suddenly his whole body ached and throbbed and he gasped in pain and discomfort as he opened his eyes. Arthur's eyes met his. Merlin was confused for a brief moment, he wasn't lying down, he was standing up, but something warm and wet was running down from his ears and nose. Arthur looked scared, uncertain, and Merlin blinked a few times, trying to clear the fogginess.
"Merlin," Arthur's voice was careful, cautious, and tentative. "Are you back with me?"
Merlin swallowed and looked over Arthur's shoulder. The black-hooded man's crumbled body was lying a few feet away, lifeless and dead. Merlin had killed him. Merlin swallowed again, struggling to get rid of the lump in his throat. "Yes," Merlin whispered. "I think I am back."
"Oh, God," Arthur whispered, his voice desperate as he pressed his lips against Merlin's frantically for a moment. Merlin closed his eyes, sighing into the kiss, enjoying the small escape he felt at sensing Arthur's lips against his once more. Arthur pulled back, abruptly, cupping Merlin's face roughly in his hands, his voice coming out hoarse, "I thought I lost you there for a moment, you were completely incoherent."
"I think you did lose me for a moment," Merlin replied back, his voice barely above a whisper. "I lost control of my magic. That can never happen again, Arthur." Fear gnawed uncomfortably in the pit of Merlin's stomach. Merlin wasn't stupid or naïve, he knew he was capable of great power, but never, in his wildest dreams, did he imagine that he could be capable of this kind of black magic. It could never repeat again. "Can never happen again."
Arthur nodded numbly and let out a shaky breath as his hand moved towards the dried blood that had ran from Merlin's ears. "Yes," Arthur whispered. "And when we get back to Camelot, you and I are going to have a very long talk about the importance of obeying your King's orders."
Merlin nodded. "Of course, my King," Merlin muttered softly. The pain his head was finally leaving him and he felt like his magic was slowly returning to him.
Arthur exhaled, running a shaky hand across his face. "Have I told you what an idiot you are lately?"
A smile tugged at the corner of Merlin's mouth. "No, sire."
"You're an idiot," Arthur told him, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Yes, sire."
Arthur just shook his head, running his hand down Merlin's jaw and neck, his other hand caressing Merlin's cheekbones. "An absolute idiot," Arthur mumbled, and closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Merlin's. Merlin knew that it might look suspicious at their intimate contact, bur right now he was too tired and too sore to even care. All he cared about was that he was back to himself, and Arthur was here with him.
Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping…