Just a one shot I've had in my mind for a really long time. Rated T for angst and as always, a magic reveal ;)
Id like to note that this is post season... 4(?) and so Morgana is evil, Arthur is king and Gwen is queen. Oh and the Knights of the round table r there... Ya that bout covers it. Oh and they were on a hunt (as usual)
this alternates between Merlin and Arthur's POV :)
He had always dreamt about being able to show his magic. Most of them had ended badly, yes, but he was hoping for it to be happening within the safety of the king's chambers, not to mention by his own accord.
But this… Merlin would always have kept his magic hidden, not even using it if he knew there was a way out, which there always was.
This time however, he didn't have a choice. They were all outnumbered, and all the Knights of the Round Table, despite their best efforts in struggling - which was a lot - they were still held down by bandits. Each more than one though.
And Arthur. His neck was pressed to a blade, so should he move his throat would immediately be slit. But they didn't seem to want to just kill the king, or even rant on about the injustices done to magic that Merlin was all too familiar with.
No. Unfortunately, it seemed destiny had decided for Merlin to finally choose, as a man came from the tree line, carrying a thin whip. The most painful kind, designed to cut with struck across the skin and to drag open the wound. And as if it wasn't enough, the point was stuffed with nails, and worse yet, dripping with a liquid Merlin pretty much to be poison.
So Merlin didn't really have a choice actually.
As the man with the whip stood in front of Arthur, Merlin inhaled, preparing himself for the worst.
"Step away from him," while the man with the whip turned to stare at him with raised eyebrows and an amused smile, Arthur looked at him as if he was crazy, and Merlin wondered if he really was. But Merlin couldn't wait it out, not like all the other times, for it to just straighten out in the end. Not this time.
"And why would I?" The man leered, while the bandits - no, most definitely mercenaries - holding Merlin down gripped his arms more painfully tighter.
"Because I said so," his voice was low and threatening, but the man merely started laughing, while Arthur hissed at him to shut up.
The man stopped laughing, and turned to walk to Merlin instead, flicking his whip threateningly. But Merlin didn't pay attention.
He looked at Arthur, willing all his emotions to show with just that one look, apology, sadness, resignation, and fear.
Merlin looked back to the approaching man, and yelled.
His head tilted back as he opened his mouth for a guttural roar to emerge from deep within him, the familiar sensation of burning behind his eyes filling him with warmth - and dread as he roared, making all the mercenaries to let go of the closest Knights and the King of Camelot and fly back for miles before slamming into eventual tree trunks with sickening crunches, ensuring their deaths.
Every one of the mercenaries were dead within a matter of moments, only Arthur, Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table to remain standing.
Merlin stared at the place where the man had been standing, breathing heavily as he realized the implications of his actions.
He turned to Arthur, the dread he had been feeling before being held off by the warmth given by the magic now threatening to overwhelm him.
He risked a glance at his king, as he stood with his head lowered and his hand clasped behind his back like a proper servant. Arthur was staring at Merlin with a mixture of fear, anger and betrayal.
Merlin's heart started to break from that moment, as he waited for his king to speak.
"You…" Arthur started out, his voice low. "You betrayed me!" He was now yelling.
But before Arthur could continue, Merlin undoubtedly wanting to remain silent for his king to finish off most his anger so he could explain himself, a sudden pain exploded in Merlin's back, rippling throughout his entire body and his eyes widened before he fell forward, the last thing him being able to see was Arthur's surprised face as he started to look frantically elsewhere, before blackness to Merlin under.
Sorcerers. Merlin had gotten rid of the mercenaries in the forest, but he had failed to get rid of the sorcerers that somehow managed to stay just outside his line of magic. And they were the reason Merlin was now chained to the ceiling, thick manacles with runes engraved in it, stopping him from being able to let himself free with his magic.
His tunic was in tatters, barely covering him but revealing the happenings to Merlin for the past two days since he had been captured.
Torture. He was being tortured by Morgana.
It was so obvious, Merlin wondered why he hadn't seen it before the High priestess had come to the dungeons on the first day of his capture, a crazed gleam in her eyes.
The mercenaries were just a trap. Arthur was the bait. Morgana was trying to lure Emrys out, by capturing Arthur and trying to kill him. Had Morgana's plan to draw out Emrys failed, she still would have killed Arthur.
And of course, Merlin had showed himself, the many sorcerers - including the one to have attacked him - witness to his magic.
And they captured Merlin almost too easily, the Knights and Arthur not standing a chance against magic. Whether they had fought or not though. Merlin chose not to dwell on that.
Morgana didn't care much for Arthur when she was to get Emrys in her grasps. Besides, by disposing of Emrys first, she could easily kill Arthur whenever she wanted. So that was her reason for leaving Arthur free, so she had ranted on the first day, before proceeding to begin on her revenge on Merlin.
She said nothing while she tortured Merlin though. There was nothing to say, but she only smiled. That dark smile that adorned Morgana's once beautiful face as she took pleasure in Merlin's pains.
The whip that was about to be used on Arthur, instead ending up being used on him. Each lash tearing painfully into his back, the nails latching onto his skin and slowly started to agonizingly pull away, tearing the skin and dragging it wide open, blood flowing freely in its wake before the next lash struck out. Again and again. Merlin hadn't bothered keeping count. The first lash itself had brought him close to oblivion, the poison fast acting to reveal its pain, leaving a burning sensation as if fire was eating at his exposed nerves and muscle, the blood in his body instead starting to feel like boiling stones. But the poison was most obviously still drawing out his life for a slow painful death. Death that he would welcome with open arms, as the whipping was only the first.
Morgana hadn't even allowed Merlin for the luxury of a bliss unconsciousness. She kept him awake with her own magic, drawing out her torture sessions until she had been satisfied with the results.
After literally flaying him an inch close to death on the first day, Morgana moved away. Merlin, unable to move as even one jolt had him whimpering out as wave after wave of pain rolled through his body, somehow managed to look up hopefully, if Morgana had decided to leave him.
She had, and seeing her gone, he was finally allowed to succumb to darkness.
The second day, he was still terribly aware of each cut on his back, and he knew they were starting to get infected. Most likely there wasn't an inch of skin on his back left undamaged now.
When Morgana entered again, he didn't even have the strength to look up at her. His energy was dwindling by the wounds and hunger, and the poison only added to his suffering.
Morgana walked to the side of the room, where Merlin had seen a table the previous day when he could actually keep his eyes open. Then, it was bare, but now he could hear clattering, as if Morgana had dropped several somethings on the table.
For a while there was silence, before the clacking of Morgana's heels got closer to Merlin, and he soon felt something cold and sharp pressing against his cheek.
"You know, Merlin," Morgana spoke or the first time that day. "How hard it was, living in the very place that would execute you if they found out who you truly are," the knife dragged down his cheek, not breaking skin. Yet.
"I was terrified," Morgana's voice rose, and the knife, now at his jaw, pressed sharply. "And you did nothing! But watch me! You could have helped me! But instead you poisoned me!" Morgana's voice, which had been a low hiss at the start, was now screaming and her blade was working with her anger, slashing across Merlin's face, barely missing his eyes as she dragged the knife from cheek to chin, on both sides in angry crosses, soon pooling blood.
The knife was suddenly wrenched away, which was when Merlin finally realized he had been screaming. What he had been saying, he wasn't sure, but he figured he had definitely tried to apologize more than once with Morgana's next words, as she drew away with the knife he knew to be dripping with his own blood.
"No Merlin. It's too late to apologize now," he was aware that she was standing in front of him again, but before he could even try to think about opening his eyes, he could hear low chanting.
"Álætan sé ísen gewrit. Álætan sé atrum blédan. Álætan sé ærning áhrýran cwealmnes. Álætan sé cwealmnes áþ þu forscrincan, næfre ending, næfre læs þu ende. Álætan úre feorhblod unætnes fram wiðinnan!" Morgana's voice was dark and evil, and had Merlin had the strength, he would have shivered as he felt the dark magic gathering around them.
Another blade - more like a thick needle really - touched his chest, and by the time Morgana finished chanting the spell, she pressed hard into his skin.
Merlin howled with pain as she painstakingly drew the blade slowly around his skin, opening up the skin there as well. Wherever the blade touched though, it was as if his skin was on fire, and his insides started to burn even more furiously directly under the blade's point.
Morgana dragged the blade around his entire chest, and soon blood was pouring fourth from the opened wounds.
Merlin's howls had quieted to miserable sobs now, and when he finally felt the blade lift, it was as if heaven was to approach. A cold hand though proved him wrong, by pressing hard against his wounds and he screamed again, his voice already starting to get raspy.
"Ágíeman," Morgana's voice was careless, and that itself was a hint that his pain wasn't obviously going to end anytime soon, but it still surprised him when the wounds started to close.
"W...wh-why?" His voice was low and unused, as he spoke for the first time.
"Can't having you dying to easily now can I?" Morgana's voice was haughty, and he would have just stuck with it, had he not realized that his skin was starting to twist as it closed.
He whimpered, really unable to do anything else as his skin knitted itself all wrong, and even after it closed, the pain within, right under where the now scars were, was more agonizing than ever.
He barely realized Morgana's hand letting him go as he promptly lost consciousness again.
And so it went. For days, to a week, to another. Any hope that Arthur would come and rescue him was lost. Art- the King, undoubtedly hated him, explaining his lack of presence. And with each day, Merlin's strength dwindling more and more, barely alive and only by Morgana's magic, he lost himself to his thoughts, waiting for it to all end.
Had he been awake, he would have smiled to hear Morgana standing in front of him, ordering someone to just finish him. But he wasn't. So he didn't hear her scream come next.
Arthur was enraged. Betrayed. Hurt. But also worried. Ever since that day in the forest, he had barely spoken, except to only send out more orders.
Merlin. Out of everyone, Merlin had magic. The thought itself was ridiculous. But Arthur couldn't deny the power of the magic he himself had witnessed that day. And he was truly hurt, and also feared Merlin because of his magic now. But also hurt.
But that still didn't mean he was going to stop looking for him. The sorcerers may have captured Merlin, but that didn't mean Arthur was just going to let Merlin go just like that! He had questions, God forbid, he had so many questions, and undoubtedly only Merlin was to be able to answer all of them.
And not only that. Though he wouldn't admit it, Merlin was still his friend. Though he wasn't sure if he would still call Merlin that, it still hurt when he saw Merlin using his magic. But as he was once - if not anymore - a friend, Arthur would give Merlin the chance to explain himself.
And so, even though it was close to a month since Merlin had been captured, even when all the Knights were starting to lose hope, Arthur held on to his. As the idiot really needed to explain himself.
"Sire," Leon's voice brought Arthur out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see the man and Sir Gwaine approaching him, their horses slowing down as they came near.
"There is an old castle not too far from here. It doesn't look like there's anyone there, but we could still see an occasional mercenary guarding the outer wall," Leon reported.
Arthur nodded. "Take us there," with a flick of his reins, they were off.
The old castle certainly did look deserted, and while Arthur was tempted to ask Leon if he was sure this was the place, he could see the mercenaries at the outer wall, and much more into the distance, at the rooftops most likely as sentries.
There weren't any other entrances to the castle through the outer wall except the one they were now looking at, hidden by bushes. The main entrance.
"Shall we go for offensive sire?" Leon's hushed voice came from his left.
Arthur sighed. "No. We can't risk having everyone know us to be here. This probably isn't even the right place," Arthur said. If that were true, then they would have to sneak into that castle for nothing. But everyone knew that not to be the case.
"Gwaine, Perival, you come with me. Leon, when I give you the signal, I want you approaching with Elyan. Is that clear?" At their confirmation, Arthur started to take off his cape, and gestured for the others to do the same.
"Hopefully, they won't recognize us to be from Camelot. It's a start," Arthur explained, though it was rather unnecessary as the others figured out the reason for his actions.
Standing up straight, he started to make his way out of the shrubbery and approached the front gate, Gwaine and Percival close behind.
The two mercenaries at the front watched them warily as they came closer, their grips tightening at the hilt of their swords.
"Gwaine. Do you notice anyone else looking at us?" Arthur asked, keeping his voice low.
"No. Just those two guards," came the reply. Arthur didn't show any signs of acknowledgment, but inside, he sighed again. The things he would do for that idiot. He had better be in this castle, because Arthur wasn't sure he had done anything as stupid as what he was about to do now.
Though Merlin would protest to that.
"Good day sirs!" Arthur exclaimed as he came within hearing range of the two mercenaries, but otherwise his voice was still low.
"I was hoping for a bit of information. See, we've been looking for a friend of ours. Tall gangly boy, pale skin, dark hair and an annoying tendency to not know when to shut up. Have you seen him?" He asked cheerily.
The two mercenaries glanced at each other, almost as if ready to send a signal, and that was enough for Arthur, who was watching closely.
Before the men even had a chance to turn back to Arthur, the king sprang forth, his sword unsheathed in a second and quickly stabbed the first man dead.
The second had occupied Gwaine, but while they were sparring in a series of intricate moves, Percival came from behind the mercenary and promptly knocked him out.
Arthur nodded. Turning to the shrubbery, he waved his hand, and his remaining Knights jumped out.
Looking around until they caught up, he saw that for the time being, no one else had seen them, from the rooftops. Well that was surprising.
"Alright. Let's move."
They silently made their ways to the side of the castle, where they could see some stairs leading below. No one had noticed them as they walked across the courtyard. They had managed to avoid all the guards, but Arthur was finding it slightly suspicious that no one had noticed them yet. But for the time being, he was still grateful as they made their ways down the stairs to what they hoped was to the dungeons.
But the moment they came down the stairs, finding themselves in a dark and damp, underground tunnel opening up to a cavern before narrowing back into a corridor like tunnel, they saw the guards standing alert at the stairs, and further down the tunnel there were more guards at an intersection where the tunnel opened up wider again.
Arthur gestured at his Knights, and Percival and Gwaine climbed down the stairs, immediately knocking out the guards. At the intersection, the guards, hearing the noise, started running to them, and Gwaine and Percival stood at the sides of the opening through where the guards ran though. While Arthur and the others watched from the top of the stairs, Gwaine and Percival knocked out the remaining two guards with ease.
A bit too much ease.
They quickly made their way through the other tunnel, and coming to the intersection, they stopped.
Arthur held up a hand in silence, straining his ears for any sort of sound, and surprisingly enough, he could hear a familiar clacking noise.
He narrowed his eyes. A very familiar noise indeed.
He motioned towards the noise, and they took the tunnel to their left, the tunnel getting darker and more damp as it led them slightly down hill.
"I reckon were underground now," he heard Elyan mutter from behind them, and he couldn't help but agree.
They finally approached the end of the tunnel, where there was only one thick, heavy wooden door, partially closed. Leaning towards it and hearing nothing but silence, Arthur risked a peek inside.
What he saw took his breath away.
There, standing in the center of the room with her back to him, stood Morgana. It was undoubtedly her even if he didn't see her face.
But in front of her…
Oh gods. Was that Merlin?
The boy was unrecognizable. His face was a bloody mess, all swollen, bruised and what wounds had healed were dripping pus.
His shirt hung in tatters, his bones too obvious as it stuck out, the skin stretched tight over. And the other mistreatments Arthur could see pained his own chest. Lines, crisscrossing and circles and… runes?
Each scar looked puffed up, and Arthur could see even from this distance Merlin's veins through the skin surrounding the scars, black as night from within the pale skin.
Arthur was seething, his vision turning red. No one did this to Merlin. No one. And yet, here he was, strung up to the ceiling by chains and most likely unconscious as his body bore all the treatment not even any of Camelot's men had to go through under Arthur's reign.
"Just finish him already," Morgana's voice rang out clearly, carelessly as de commanded someone else in the room.
And Arthur snapped. He barged into the room, roaring loudly and struck his sword through Morgana, nearly impaling her. She looked shocked at the sword now protruding from her stomach, and gasped as Arthur quickly pulled it back out, but then she smirked, no evidence of pain on her face.
"Arthur. How nice of you to join us. Just to see as we finished off your friend," she gestured behind her, and from the dark, a tall, bulk man strutted over to Arthur, a maniacal grin on his face as he raised his sword high.
None of them saw Gwaine though.
The rogue knight sprang out of nowhere, quickly impaling the man on his side, causing the man to stop.
The man stared at the sword in his side as it was wrenched out of his guts by Gwaine. For a moment, there was silence as Arthur and Gwaine waited for the man to keel over.
Instead, he raised his own sword again, and with a roar, brought it crashing on to Gwaine, barely being deflected.
Arthur turned to look back at Morgana - just in time to block her attack as well from a sword that hadn't been in her hand before.
"Remember the times when I used to beat you Arthur," Morgana said haughtily as Arthur dodged yet another blow.
"That never happened," he replied back, just for a moment forgetting that Morgana wasn't evil, and that he was talking to his sister. But her eyes hardened again and she fought with renewed vigor.
While he kept Morgana distracted, out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Elyan sneaking to Merlin, and start to mess around with the manacles chained to Merlin's wrist, connecting him with the ceiling.
He didn't have time to figure out what happened next though, because Morgana suddenly twisted his sword out his hand, and it went flying off to the side. Morgana stood with a triumphant smile as she pointed her sword to Arthur's neck, but with a flick of her hand, Gwaine flew off from his own sparring and hit the wall, slumping to the floor unconscious.
"You really think you can defeat me Arthur? I am a high priestess!" Morgana shrieked. Arthur's eyes remained on the sword however, until a low voice rasped out, and yet with power deep within it.
"You may be a High Priestess Morgana. But I. Am. Emrys."
Arthur turned to see Merlin's eyes flashing gold, just before all hell exploded.
He wasn't conscious, that was for sure. But he didn't exactly seem to be unconscious either. If that made any sense.
For one, he was aware of Morgana in the room. Either because he had gotten used to get visits, or because of the dark magic radiating around her, he didn't know but she was there.
But someone else was there as well. That was a first. It was usually just him and Morgana.
For a while, he felt no pain. It was all dark, but he could sense the other's twos presence, and yet he dreamed.
He dreamt of Will. Lancelot. Balinor. Freya. Each and every death had hurt him.
But he also dreamt of Morgana. And that was by far the worst, as he replayed every single moment with her. Merlin always thought no memory of Morgana could hurt as much as him poisoning her, causing her to betray them.
But he was wrong. Every moment she stood there, as Uther's ward, and as a friend, that hurt most. Because that was something he couldn't have any more. Because of him.
So every moment, with her smiling and teasing, played over and over again in his mind, as if to taunt him, showing him how he had wronged such a beauty.
Honestly, Merlin wasn't sure anymore if the physical torture or the mental torture was worse.
But something interrupted his thoughts, bringing it all to a halt. A presence. No. Three presences. And one of them painstakingly familiar, a golden light in the midst of all the darkness.
His destiny.
And suddenly, Merlin was aware of something prodding his wrists, the manacles clinking together and jostling his bruised skin - no, most likely there as no skin covering his wrists at this point, just raw muscle - and he felt a searing hot pain run through his back and chest and face. Goddess, what part of him wasn't injured?
He whimpered as the movements caused him to jostle his wounds ever more, when, unexpectedly, he toppled forward, collapsing into someone's ready arms.
Merlin finally managed to wrench apart his jaws, only to moan silently in pain, but God, using his voice hurt for no reading.
He was becoming aware of the sounds of metal clashing, and someone quietly calling out his name repetitively in worry, when the metallic sounds ceased and a crunch was heard in the silence, reminding Merlin all too well of the day in the forest.
The day in the forest…
But before Merlin was swallowed in his thoughts again, a voice rang out in the room, and he could hear it properly. Each sound crystal clear.
"You really think you can defeat me Arthur? I am a high priestess!" It was a Morgana's voice and -
Arthur? Arthur was here?
Merlin finally opening his eyes, blinking in the light - however dim it had been though - and he was met with a sight that for some reason, angered him more than it should have.
There was a bulky man in the corner, standing upright despite the fact that there was clearly his own blood pooling at his feet. Gwaine was lying on the floor, slumped against the wall unconscious and something told Merlin that was the crunch that he heard.
A quick glance had him knowing it was Elyan who was holding him upright, but he wasn't focused on that. Straight ahead, Morgana was pointing a sword at Arthur's throat.
Morgana was pointing a sword at Arthur's throat.
He stood straight, not even using Elyan for support - how he managed that, he'd wonder later - and looked at Morgana, the wonderful feeling of magic returning to him without the manacles, enveloping him in a warmth he hadn't felt for weeks. The air around him started to spark with energy, and later on, Elyan would recall to him as to how there were actually sparks near his fingertips.
And he spoke, the magic bursting forth through his speech, making him sound stronger, powerful and more ancient as if the Earth herself.
"You may be a High Priestess Morgana. But I. Am. Emrys."
And he let his magic burst out.
The magic burst out from his body, calling eagerly and excitedly as it sprung out, finally being released after being held in for too long.
It spread through Morgana, the man with a gaping hole he seemed to be oblivious to at his side, and the entire castle.
But no magic touched Arthur or the Knights for harm. When they felt it, they only felt it as if they were being enveloped in a warm embrace, a feeling of content washing over them as Merlin let his Magic roll out in waves, dissipating the man and letting the castle start to shake and rumble, as if the earth herself was trying to get rid of the filth there, and slowly, wall by wall, the castle started to fall, every room and tunnel falling, except for where they stood. The walls collapsed outwards around them, forming a circle as Merlin stood in the center of it all, the sky exposed as the ceiling too crumbled away.
And finally, it stopped.
The castle, in the distance, the outer walls all had fallen. Even the tunnels which were underground by maybe miles was now having the night time sky shine on the floors.
Merlin collapsed, barely caught by Elyan's arms again this time. He was ready to let himself succumb to unconsciousness - Arthur had returned after all, what more did he want? - but a voice shrieked.
"No! No, curse you Emrys! How could you do this!" Morgana. How was she still standing?
But only just. The witch's state was no better that Merlin's as his magic run through her, scarring her internally, emotionally and physically by the falling debris, and she looked ready to fall as well, one arm wrapped around her waist.
Merlin was starting to frown now. Wouldn't they just let him to sleep?
"Because Morgana. You went to far this time," Merlin replied tiredly. He was really wanting to rest now, and he had no patience - though it may have been lost somewhere along the past few weeks, alongside any other emotions - whatsoever to deal with this.
"No. I will not allow this!" Morgana shrieked. She spread her hand out to Arthur, but Merlin snapped.
Gritting his teeth, he stood upright again - this time he held on to Elyan - and he pointed his own hand to Morgana, before pointing it to the sky. His eyes flashed gold as rain clouds started to gather in seconds into the clear sky, and it started to rain thickly, thunder booming loudly throughout the sky.
With eyes flashing as gold as ever, lightning started to strike within the clouds, and as he dragged his downwards, the lighting following the path of his hand, he aimed at Morgana.
She shrieked one last time, before the Lightning engulfed her, sparks fizzling into the air as the last High Priestess burnt and exploded into an odd mixture of sparks and ashes.
Merlin let his hand drop to the side tiredly, and the Lightning disappeared, though it continued to rain, quickly soaking them up.
He was ready for that nap now.
Pain. That's all he remembered. Ever since the past few weeks, and though Morgana was dead, he felt pain in every possible way. He was aware he was on horse back, he could recognize that familiar bouncing anywhere.
And then he was transferred to something unmoving, something… soft?
But it felt good. He was on his side though, his bruised arms attesting to that.
But pain. Even then, pain as skin was forced to reopen, bones to break again, and a needle for some reason jabbing him again and again at the whole of his back.
And the nightmares. Every time he slept, now with the added memories of his imprisonment, and him killing Morgana for the last time.
He dimly wondered if he'd ever get a break from all this suffering, but when he woke up, for the first time he was feeling so happy in a long time.
Gaius. His dear old mentor and father like figure, sponging Merlin's forehead with a damp rag.
Seeing Merlin's eyes opening, Gaius smiled, though it was a sad one.
"Oh my dear boy," Gaius whispered, and it was enough for Merlin to cry. But this time, his tears were of happiness, relaxedness. Content.
He remained in the chambers for quite a while, not even getting out of bed. He would sit up to eat, but he would soon lay back down again, unable to take the pressure on his spine.
Apparently a one his disc's collapsed, and also his arms had been dislocated.
Merlin could barely remember that happening though. It was more of a distant memory, that he tried not to dwell on when he was awake, instead focusing solely on Gaius.
But it would all come back to him at night anyway.
He had wondered if Arthur would ever come to see him. Gaius did say that Arthur was the one to help Gaius treat all his wounds, helping keep Merlin down. But ever since he had woken, he had yet to see Arthur himself, even though he saw all the Knights and Gwen as well.
And that was saying a lot, considering that he was laying in the king's chambers itself.
But Arthur finally did come to see him one day.
He had been sleeping, going through another nightmare before the memory ended and he was finally released to consciousness. And he found Arthur sitting in a chair by the bed, staring at him with his hand holding up his head.
When he realized Merlin was looking at him though, Arthur blinked, leaning back.
Arthur cleared his throat, raking his fingers through his hair, looking around before finally settling his eyes on the manservant.
"Good to see you awake," Arthur's voice came out rough.
Merlin blinked. "It's good to be awake," his voice was raspy, proof for his thirst and Arthur immediately jumped up, grabbing a goblet and pouring water into it. He came back to the bed, and gently, helped Merlin to sit, leaning against the many pillows to help cushion his back, before handing him the goblet.
Merlin drank the water eagerly, gulping down its contents. He knew he was supposed to keep it slow, but it had been so long since he had drank fresh water…
For a while they continued to sit in silence, before Merlin broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," he had been burning to say that for the longest time, but Arthur looked at him in surprise.
"What for?"
Merlin glanced at Arthur before looking back at his clasped hands, nervously messing around with a stray thread with his thumb.
"I have magic. And I didn't tell you, and when you fou-" Arthur cut him off by raising his hand though, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger with his other hand.
"Look. I'm hurt because you didn't bother telling me that you had magic, especially powerful magic at that," Merlin's heart sank as Arthur spoke, but Arthur continued. "But for now, Merlin I'm just… tired. And I know that you are too. I want to be able to hear everything about you though. Like how you have magic, and every single thing you've done with it, but for now Merlin, for now, we both need rest," Arthur smiled suddenly, trying to slip back into their regular banter. "And besides, Gaius will have my hide if I kept you up too long for now," Merlin grinned faintly, but it was small, and it definitely didn't reach his eyes, and Arthur's own grin faded at that.
"Why?" Merlin's voice was quiet as he spoke after another brief silence.
"Why what?" Arthur asked, confused.
"Why do you all this for me? I have Magic, and you hate anything that has to do with Magic," Merlin explained, still not looking up.
He heard Merlin sigh again.
"Look here Merlin," for a moment, he didn't, but he slowly raised his head to meet the King's eyes, to find them serious as he looked back at him.
"I don't hate magic. I've come to realize that. I only hate what magic has done, what it had caused for all the people I love. But I can't hate you Merlin. Because though you have magic, I have a feeling you won't be able to just give it up. Gaius has told me enough about that," Merlin's eyes widened, wondering what all Gaius had said, but Arthur shook his head, continuing to explain.
"He didn't tell me much, expect that you were born with it, and that you have only ever used it to protect me, though I still find that hard to understand," Arthur raised his eyebrows at this before he went on. "However, like I said. You have magic, and it's going to take me a while, because while it still hurts Merlin, in time I would be able to come terms with it all. But I still want to talk to you about this, just not now," Arthur smiled.
Merlin nodded, feeling numb. Arthur… was accepting? Not exactly, but… wanting to accept.
Merlin suddenly felt overwhelmed with this idea, almost swaying in his spot.
Arthur rose from his spot on the chair, stretching.
"Well. I have to go for a meeting now. Get some rest, and Merlin," Merlin looked up. Arthur hesitated before repeating himself. "Get some rest."
Arthur turned around, walking to the door. He was just about to close it behind him when Merlin called out.
"Arthur?"
The king turned around, looking back at the pale boy on his bed.
"Thank you," his voice was small, but Arthur heard it clearly.
"No. Thank you, my friend."
And with a final smile, he left the room, missing the wide, goofy grin that embraced the boy's face.
For days afterwards, even after rejoining his position as Arthur's manservant as his wounds having healed, he was still plagued with nightmares. There wasn't much to do about them, but Merlin would often find comfort in sitting by Gaius, watching the man doze.
Merlin decided against seeing Arthur, because he wasn't sure he wanted to see him and Gwen in an embrace like the day after their wedding.
Goddess, that had been a sight.
And he also didn't want the king waking up and finding Merlin, and about his dreams. Other than Gaius, Merlin still felt like he couldn't confide in anyone else about them.
But apart from that, he had told almost everything Arthur had wanted to know ever since him coming to Camelot.
Almost. He left out a few parts, such as Freya. He wasn't ready to face that yet.
But he told about everyone else. From Nimueh, Will, Lancelot, Balinor, even Morgana.
And slowly, Arthur had started to raise the ban on magic. It hadn't taken too long as they'd expected, since some of the people actually seemed happy for it to be lifted, but it eventually was, and now, Merlin had gone from servant to court advisor and warlock.
It had been different, yes, and it still did nothing to ease his nightmares or the occasional pain from the wounds, some which were re-broken cut open again to heal right, that had been poisoned with magic. Though that had all been healed, Merlin still woke up at night, feeling as if he was back in the dungeons, having a blade pierce though his internals.
But yes, though Revenge can be long-term, Merlin knew it wouldn't last.
Omg yes! I'm done ! This took me literally the whole day to finish! I just had this muse that was wanting out for a while so I decided why not? Ya tha plot is prob overused but I enjoyed writing it! And I hope u enjoy!
Please review!
Álætan sé ísen gewrit. Álætan sé atrum blédan. Álætan sé ærning áhrýran cwealmnes. Álætan sé cwealmnes áþ þu forscrincan, næfre ending, næfre læs þu ende. Álætan úre feorhblod unætnes fram wiðinnan!
Let the blade write. Let the ink bleed. Let the blood cause pain. Let the pain make you wither, never ending, never letting you end. Let your body die from within!
Ágíeman - Heal