Quick introduction:
This story was inspired by, obviously, the season 5 trailer of Merlin that was showed at the Comic Con in San Diego. The lines Colin and Bradley delivered with so much conviction, already made this a golden Merthur moment. I hope you'll enjoy my little story, it's very much inspired by the trailer and how I think things could play out between different moments.
I do not own this show nor the characters.
I'll protect you with my life
''I swear I'm going to rescue my men or die trying,'' my king swore to me, and he looked more serious than ever as he turned his head towards me. I watched him carefully, tried to read the emotions on his face while looking in his deep blue eyes. How did we end up here – sitting on the cold floor while seeing the sun set through the only window in between these walls? Making promises to each other we weren't sure we could keep? I should probably explain how we'd gotten here.
It all started on a cold, spring day. With the sun at the sky, the temperature outside was quite pleasant. Arthur walked besides me as we checked if the road was clear. On our way through the forest we couldn't use bandits, knights that were looking for a fight, or… Morgana. I hated to admit it, but Arthur wouldn't stand a chance against her. He'd sent people to persecute her after she'd invaded the castle, but from what I knew, it had only worked against him. She was back now, I could sense it. And she was stronger than ever. The hairs on my arms had raised when I'd seen Mordred being warmly welcomed by Arthur and made into a knight. I knew Morgana's relationship with him was strong, so him appearing in Camelot from one day to another had almost been too suspicious. No sounds had come through my mind to disturb me from my sleep though – and a certain feeling was eating me from inside out: the feeling that Morgana and Mordred might be 'talking' to each other on another frequency. I was also scared Mordred wouldn't even bother to keep my secret for himself, because he'd turned against me for over years now. Soon Morgana would start to call me Emrys in front of everyone – it was such a fear to carry I'd rather slip it off my shoulders than think about it one second more.
Arthur had ducked his elbow in my side to stop my staring. He'd noticed something was on my mind again and he asked what it was, but I waved my hand like it was nothing. ''I haven't slept well,'' was my explanation.
Arthur cleared his throat. ''Mmm, I can't say I'm the best sleeper either… Guinevere sometimes yanks my blankets away.''
''She does?'' I laughed, surprised by his confession, that he'd made with a concerned look on his face.
''Nah,'' he answered, ''I'm just messing with you.'' He grinned, then turned serious again, adding a doubting 'although' to his statement.
I, however, was distracted by something else. They weren't as beautiful as unicorns, but the small, brown animals definitely had something.
''Rabbits?'' I established in a doubting voice. They looked lovely, hopping over the grass in the open area. But wait, what were they doing there? They were supposed to hide in a forest for all I knew.
''Yes, Merlin, rabbits,'' Arthur said to me, before he began to inspect some bushes at the edge of the open area.
I'd just suggested to catch and eat them when something weird caught my eye. On the green grass laid long, straight lines of a different colour. It looked somewhat beige and this beige colour was spread all over the area in a vertical and horizontal pattern. At this moment it slowly began to dawn on me this wasn't just a pretty pattern – and then Arthur screamed my name like he'd done when I let a wall of stones crash down between the two of us, and he flung himself at me as if he was a bird, trying to save me from the (I had found the word) net.
As a result, we were both swinging in the net, that was secured to a tree. I felt the slashes appear on my face, that was pressed to a few ropes very tightly. ''At least I got them,'' I joked to lighten my pain. It didn't sound too cheerful and got Arthur muttering something indistinct, that ended with a growl. ''What?'' it sounded.
''The rabbits.'' I pointed to our companions in the net, that were sniffing Arthurs armour.
''O, that is great,'' he said sarcastically and he let out a heavy sigh. ''Let's see how we can get out of this, your leg is hurting my hip a lot.''
I tried to move into a different position, but the net was too narrow, so my leg only hurt Arthur more. ''Sorry,'' I apologised after moving into every direction possible. I panted for breath. ''Can't-help-it.''
He sighed again, which didn't come over very king-like to me. Fine, I had to be the one to come up with a brilliant plan, as always. And I did – well – it would've been genius if it had been possible.
''Try to pull out your sword,'' I said. Once Arthur had done that I could secretly use my magic to fasten the process – for it were very thick ropes to cut. Arthur tried, he really did, but his arm was under so much pressure it simply didn't work out – as I'd expected. I bit my lip, wanting another solution to pop up in my head, but I didn't get a chance. The sound of footsteps below us came nearer and I blindly shouted for help, assuming one of the knights was there to come to our rescue. Arthur, however, stopped me after a few seconds of desperate cries by roughly putting his hand on my mouth. His face looked panicked, like he'd seen a ghost. ''Stop it!'' he cried out, ''don't you understand? This is a trap!''
As I stopped with the bloody screams for help, I looked down, staring right at a face that was consumed by bitterness. Her light eyes sprung out because of the black dress she was wearing. She put the cap with grey animal fur down on her shoulders and felt the urge to smile as only evil people who'd just achieved a triumph did. My stomach turned a 360 degrees and my hands felt clammy. I saw Arthurs shocked face, the way he gasped for air. That was when the sound of her voice reached his ears.
''Hello, little brother,'' she said, although her lips barely moved. The hatred that was put in those few words was clearly hearable. ''And… who do we have here? Mérlin...'' She gave me a cold look, before she continued with a smirk: ''Hanging cosy there?''
''Morgana,'' Arthur confirmed, voice unsteady. I saw the pain on his face, and he must have replayed his whole life with Morgana in his head again, still uncertain what he'd done that made her hate him so much. ''What are you doing?'' he wanted to know.
''I'm going to make you suffer as I've suffered in the years I haven't been able to visit you,'' she hissed. ''How I've missed to see that pain on your face… but you've brought this upon yourself.'' She walked a few more steps towards the net, and met my eyes. ''Good your manservant called out – not that your precious knights wouldn't be here in a minute if I sent them a message.'' She spit out the words like they were a disease to her, something she wanted to get rid of as soon as possible.
I should've known better, I thought, I've been so stupid.
''How have your knights been doing, Arthur Pendragon? And your beloved Queen?'' Her face looked calm, but her voice quivered with anger. ''I've got something up my sleeve for her.''
''You are not going to hurt Guinevere with one finger!'' Arthur screamed, and I saw the thunder in his eyes. ''Leave her the hell out of this!''
''Very sweet,'' Morgana said nonchalant, which only made Arthur angrier – and that was exactly what she was going for, ''but I think she won't mind playing a little game with me… Oh.'' A sharp sword pointed in her back. It was Gwaine who was handling the sword, who was ready to fight. I looked around and saw the other knights appear, one by one, and form a circle of armed men around Morgana. With determination on his face, Gwaine demanded her to let Arthur and me go, if she didn't want to get hurt.
Morgana only laughed and said: ''Do you honestly think your swords can stop me?'' With a snap of her fingers and a pronunciation of words I had never heard before, her eyes lighted up orange. The knights fell on their knees and, as they were laying on the grass, twisted and turned in all directions. Their body parts made movements that weren't possible without cracking your bones and it looked like they were being tortured without actually being touched. It was the scariest thing, to hear their screams of the agonizing pain – and only then I noticed Arthur had been affected by it too. He was kicking with his legs and swinging with his arms like a lunatic. Caught up with him in the small net, I felt big, purple bruises appear on my skin. I didn't feel anything happening to my body though, and turned my head to the knights again – and then I found him. I saw Mordred standing behind a tree, unharmed as well. It looked like he was hiding so the knights… that was it! The spell couldn't affect people with magic! This was utterly dangerous – if Morgana only glanced up she would know it. She wouldn't have to watch for a second to know about my magic.
All that I thought, before a voice pierced through my head all of a sudden: a voice I recognised out of a thousand – Mordred's.
Morgana won't find out, he spoke in my mind, but she will if you tell Arthur I've betrayed him. You're maybe too smart to see the small things, Emrys – like a net. You're such easy prey…
The knights and Arthur stopped twisting and turning. Their breasts went up and down in an easy pace as they all closed their eyes at the same time.
Consider this as a favour, Mordred added. He blinked after he'd looked at me very intensely and I felt my eyelids become as heavy as lead. I tried to keep them open and pick up some of the words he and Morgana exchanged, but it was hard – so hard…
''You have to keep up your mask, Mordred,'' I heard Morgana say to him, and I saw him nod in agreement. ''But what about Merlin, if I may ask?'' He looked at her with a questioning look on his face.
Morgana snorted and her laughter echoed in my ears. ''Merlin?'' she sneered. ''Let him be with Arthur. Let Arthur think there's still hope, so the reality will only be more cruel for him…'' Her voice seemed to fade, and I sank deeper and deeper into the darkness.
And now I was here with Arthur in what I recognised as an old, stinking cell. How we'd gotten here I didn't know because I'd been unconscious, where we were was even a harder question. My eyes still had to get used to the dim light and the musty smell, but I was glad my brain started to work again after being out for what seemed a very long time – I saw the sun set through the only window in the cell. I crept to Arthur on hands and knees and tried to shake him awake.
A yawn escaped his throat and slowly he muttered: ''What… happened?'' He touched the ground with his fingers, but soon he'd found out it weren't his sheets he was laying on, but a cold, hard floor of stones – a totally unfamiliar place. He shot up, and I had to catch him to prevent him from falling. He placed a hand on his forehead. ''Auch,'' he whimpered, ''my head.''
''Take it easy,'' I said, ''there's no rush.'' But I lied – I knew there was rush – for Morgana was probably itching to get her plan A) Make Arthur suffer started. After the stars Arthur was seeing left his sight so he could think straight again, he knew this too. ''Morgana,'' he said, ''we have to stop Morgana. Who knows what she'll do to my men.'' He looked vulnerable in the small prison we were in, and I desperately wanted to comfort him, but I couldn't. I buried my face in my hands, felt like a five year old kid as I claimed: ''It's all my fault.''
''No, it's not,'' Arthur reassured me even before I'd finished my sentence.
''You shouldn't have jumped to save me from that net,'' I said. Thinking about the net, I felt the painful bruises on my skin and the red stripes that I hoped were already fading from my face.
''Well,'' said Arthur after a while, ''you'd have done the same if it had been me.'' The answer was simple but made me smile a little. A smile that faded the second I reminded myself of the mess we were in. ''Cliché,'' I said to him, and he looked at me. ''But true,'' he reacted, and I found myself placed in a position where I couldn't deny the truth in the words he'd said.
''But, Merlin,'' Arthur suddenly said, ''how did Morgana know we'd be there? We told no one of our trip but the knights. Not even Guinevere or Gaius knew the exact route.''
I sighed – sometimes I hated the fact Arthur could be smart when he'd put some effort in it. I played it dumb. ''I don't know,'' I answered, looking at the ground because I was a terrible liar. ''But anyone would say it had to be one of the knights who told her.'' My voice kept getting lower and I was almost afraid Mordred was listening at the door. But he couldn't – he had to pretend not to be a traitor, so it made sense he was with the other knights, playing the saint.
In Arthurs ears, the suggestion was unrealistic and unbearable to hear. ''No,'' he said resolute, ''they wouldn't turn against me, Merlin. You know that better than anyone.''
I bit my tongue to hold back the words I was about to say. Instead, I looked at my fingernails, remaining silent. Everything was messed up and I had no idea how to get out here without using magic. Tears stung behind my eyes. I thought of my mother who'd always said to me that when the time was right, the truth would be known – but this wasn't the right time, I felt that. Shivers run through my bones and I placed my arms over my legs, which I pulled up to my chin. Something wasn't right and I didn't know what. Truth was that Morgana had captured all the knights out of revenge. She wanted to make Arthur suffer. If she took them one by one, and did terrible things to them I didn't even want to think about, she could break him piece by piece. I couldn't possibly imagine Percival, the strongest man I knew, scream out in pain by Morgana's weapons. It hurt my brain – knowing the power the witch had by only snapping her fingers. And honestly, it frightened me – but I couldn't sit here and do nothing. Apparently, Arthur had had the same thoughts, because it was him who broke the painful silence after several minutes. ''I don't know where they are,'' he spoke, ''but I swear I'm going to rescue my men or die trying.'' He turned his head and never had I seen him more certain, more serious about something than this. I could see it in his big blue eyes, the eyes that were trying to figure out how I thought about this.
I held his gaze and promised him without a doubt: ''And I swear I'll protect you with my life or die at our side.'' After being his servant for so many years, I couldn't be more certain about my destiny: protecting Arthur, creating Albion with him… But this promise wasn't something I'd made in order to preserve my destiny: I'd spoken it out loud because Arthur was more than my king. He was my friend, and for him I'd risk everything.
His eyes were locked on the small window, that let the last rays of sunlight shine through and he whispered quietly: ''I think that pretty much counts for both of us.'' From his eye corners he probably saw the right corner of my mouth lift up a bit by his words and the quick, light nod I gave him to confirm he had been understood. ''Now, what's the plan?'' I asked him. All at once, I felt ready to fight. I felt my pulse heighten, I felt the adrenaline pumping through my body – because with Arthur by my side, I knew we could do it. Him… and me. I just knew.
I hoped you've enjoyed my short story! Leave a comment if you want to – they're much appreciated. Feel free to share your theories on season 5 with me and how you think everything will play out! I'm looking forward to hear it. Thanks and take care, Nynke
