His Betrayal

By the naughtypixie

Merlin didn't look back once. Didn't turn his head for a second because he knew that he would just see the empty corridor disappearing behind him as he was dragged away, that Arthur would not be standing there. That he would not come after the guards saying he was mistaken.

He had betrayed him.

Merlins mind was racing. He had never felt so exposed, so vunerable and so alone. He worried that his thoughts would spill out for all to see.

His feet barely touched the ground as the guards held him up under each arm, pulling him roughly, their snarling faces looking at him with utter contempt as they forced him along.

They were talking to each other but Merlin could make no sense of the words. Everything was a blur, a horrible nightmare for which there was no waking up.

Gaius had told him many times how special he was, but Merlin had never felt less special in his entire life. He was a prisoner now, he had failed.

Did he really believe that Arthur would protect him? He had wanted to believe he would if he were ever to find out about his ability, hoped with everything he had that Arthur would be able to see that his magic wasn't evil, that it was used to protect him and Camelot and not to turn it against them.

But Merlin couldn't think anymore about that, it hurt too much. But still he could not feel any anger towards Arthur.

The flickering of the torchlights seemed to mock Merlin, almost like they were counting down to his fate. Images danced in the orange glow, filling Merlin with coldness as he passed each one by.

There were crowds gathering to watch his execution, Arthur standing by his father on the balcony, arms folded, nonchalant. Uther raising his arm in the air, Arthur not turning away, his fathers arm seeming to linger for an eternity before it suddenly sliced through the air as a collective gasp came from the crowd below.

Merlin gulped, felt the sudden fear prick the inside of his stomach, the horrible truth dawning on him that this was his fate. His destiny with Arthur had been a lie.

Everything was going to end for him.

Then the images started to change. Some became ones of love and good.

Shadows on the cold stone walls formed familiar faces. Images in the flames called out to him. Merlin watched them, wanting to reach out and be there, be anywhere but Camelot.

He saw Hunith tending to her crops, her belief in Arthur now proven wrong as Merlin remembered her words "He needs you." Merlin fought back the tears at his betrayal. Fought back the tears that he would never see his mother again.

Then he saw Gaius appear and an even deeper fear crept up on him. Merlin suddenly felt his legs crumble beneath him. "Gaius!" he thought. "They'll know he's been protecting me." His arms went limp and the tears came freely but the guards ignored this and shoved him along more forcefully to continue their jouney to the throne room.

Merlin felt dead already. Knowing that Gaius was doomed pierced his heart a thousand times.

The corridors of the castle had never been so uninviting, so cold so unfamiliar.

It was hopeless.

The guards eased their grip on him slightly, allowing Merlin the slight relief of actually feeling his feet touch the ground. He managed to stumble along, his eyes darting from wall to wall, from flame to flame absorbing the images within. They somehow made the journey more bearable, seeing the people he loved the most reflected all around him. Though every so often, the images showed the fate which awaited Merlin and they filled his heart with a terrible coldness once more.

As Merlin passed another torchlight expecting to see another image of his mother in Ealdor, or Gaius preparing a potion, Merlin would have stopped dead in the middle of the corridor if it weren't for the guards immense grip on him.

For it was not an image of what was to come, nor one of what had been, but an image of the present and it gave Merlin a jolt of hope.

He could see Arthur in the chambers where he had stayed since witnessing Merlins magic. He faced the empty room, sadness written on his face.

Merlin lingered on the image in the flames, willing time to stand still to see just a little more.

Arthur then violently threw the table over, making Merlin jump.

The guards pulled Merlin fiercely but Merlin found a sudden strength to resist, he had to see the rest of the image.

He watched the flames intently, the brightness hurting his eyes but it didn't matter, he just needed to know.

Arthurs anger suddenly disappeared. He turned his head to the open door and instead of seeing the walls of the corridor outside, he saw the sphere of light that Merlin sent to protect him, he heard the beat of Merlins heart as he had raced towards the river to save him and he felt the weight of Merlins burden trying to keep his secret.

He saw Merlins farewell to Freya, the happiness that was taken from him, but most of all, the kindness that did not die in him even as she did.

Arthurs eyes filled with the image of Merlin being dragged away.

And then he whispered, "I won't let this happen."

Merlin felt a sharp pull on his shoulders, and the guards regained control of him but Merlin didn't care.

And he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth breaking slightly into a smile. His eyes turned away from the now ordinary orange flame, with the trust of his friend in his heart but just as Merlin was daring to hope again, he heard the familiar creak of the large doors to the throne room.

The room echoed with silence. It had never looked more imposing, more grand.

Suddenly he felt drained as before him, Uther stood up, slowly, so slowly from his throne, his piercing eyes killing all goodness in the air.

Merlin gulped and looked behind him but did not see his friend. Did not hear his voice, nor hear his footsteps.

Maybe the flames had lied.

The Guards threw him to the floor. Uther spoke sternly, "What have you brought him here for? He's Arthurs responsibility. I have no concern for his servants stupidity. Just put him in the stocks as usual"

"But Sire, he has comiitted a grave crime, witnessed by your son!"

Uther frowned. "And what grave crime would this be?" And he looked down upon Merlin, holding his very life in his hands.

And Merlin, on his knees, let his head fall to his chest, the waiting for the word 'sorcerory' taking a lifetime to leave the guards mouth.

But it would come.

And Merlin wished that his heart had never felt any hope. Wished that his heart would turn to stone. Wished that it could be pierced with a blade so it would all be over.

To be continued...