"Merlin! Merlin!"
So far away, so hazy. The sound of hooves on grass and roots thundered through his headache. Something like metallic in his mouth, and so much noise. He felt sick and dazed. He felt terrible as the side of his face smacked against something alive, glowing, and radiating with life. It wasn't very happy and there was a sharp spike in its sides before it went faster.
"Merlin!"
That voice was getting farther away... he was sure.. it was Gwaine. He was getting farther away from Gwaine... and Percival... and Arthur...
Let's hope the dollophead manages not to befall anything completely terrible before I get back...
Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he trotted down the stairs. Merlin once again was slacking off. Gwen had brought him his dinner and said that she hadn't seen Merlin all day, even when she'd gone to visit Gaius. There was something about her eyes that made him think there was something wrong. He hadn't seen the other since just before lunch... That Merlin better have a good explanation! was the general sentiment for the day. Arthur was up in arms and irritated every time he encountered a servant, or a person, that wasn't Merlin. Most people made it their job in life to actively search for the other, or avoid Arthur at any cost. They'd done a wonderful job until night fell.
Sometime in the night there was a knock on his door, he stood and went to it, opening it to find Gwen half tear struck and half-strong. There was something in her eyes that let him know that it was something larger than a few people getting attacked yet not quite a pillaging of village. Gwen always had a way of priming him for information with her expression, unlike that idiot Merlin who always looked like something catastrophic had happened or absolutely nothing happened even when it was a catastrophic.
Note to self: make Guinievere give Merlin expression lessons...
"What is it, Guinievere?"
"It's Gwaine and Percival...they've been injured..."
He frowned, downing a pair of boots, tunic, and trousers to follow her to Gaius' chambers. As they headed down a cold draft swept through the castle. Upon reaching Gaius' chambers it was Gwaine's voice they heard and the swish-swish... of hair...
"Damn it all!"
Arthur stepped in to see him clutching a dirty bag that looked strangely familiar. Percival by his side looked on with restrained anger and sympathy, placing a large hand on his shoulder. It was obviously a familiar touch... one that Arthur didn't think to get into at the moment.
"It'll be alright..."
"The hell it will be!" Gwaine yelled, not even bothering to wince at his bothered injury across his arm. "He..."
"What's going on here?" Arthur asked. "What happened?"
Percival sighed, "We were out making the last rounds around the city. When we saw Merlin in the woods...he was gathering herbs or something. We were on our way back when a group of Saxons attacked us..."
"Saxons? That close to Camelot?"
"That's what I thought," Gwaine said softly, his hand tightening in the cloth of the bag where there were still stalks of green and flowers peaking out. "They were lying in wait... as if they knew we were going to be there... as if they'd been watching the patrol routes..."
Gaius swallowed, Or had been watching Merlin...
"We fought... we fought hard... but there were just too many of them... I thought they were going to kill us, leave us there in the woods, but they weren't interested in us... They weren't fighting with us so much as stalling and keeping us at bay...keeping us distracted..."
Arthur and Gaius's stomach fell out and into their shoes it felt like, both blanched at the prospect of what that would mean...
Merlin? Since when did Merlin become prime prey for the Saxons? Do they know that he's my servant? Who goes after a servant?
Of all the people they could have tried to take close to Arthur, why would they take Merlin? It was no small rumor that Arthur was, for all purposes, deplorable to Merlin and they were in a tumultuous relationship. What would they want with Merlin? If they'd chosen Gwen, he'd understand. He actually treated Gwen like a human being more often than not. Gaius had another train of thought that made his palms damp and his heart race. Morgana was at the forefront of his mind, terrified at the thought of Merlin's real identity getting out to the wrong people. he knew that Merlin could be careless sometimes with his magic, or rather couldn't keep it in all the time, but Merlin was better than that to have gotten caught unless someone else who knew told...
"They took Merlin," Gwaine said finally. "They grabbed him quick and tied him up, dragged him off through the woods while the rest of their band was preoccupied with keeping us busy..."
"He put up a good fight..." Percival said comfortingly to Gaius. "I'd never seen anyone looked as shocked as when Merlin pulled that guy off his horse and kicked him in the face. I didn't think Merlin was strong enough..."
Gwaine shook his head, chuckling pitifully turning grim... "They were headed towards the White Mountains... Merlin wasn't wearing enough clothes to survive something that cold for long."
Arthur rubbed his forehead, "When did this happen? You say they were headed towards the White Mountains?"
Gwaine nodded, "They were riding fast, once they'd gotten Merlin under control and on the horse. The rider himself didn't look too armored, he wasn't carrying much of anything so they would have to be riding extremely fast... Merlin doesn't weigh that much. I would think they probably had a camp somewhere on route, but it would be impossible to know where exactly unless we tracked them through the forest."
Arthur nodded and bade them get some rest before heading to find Leon who was already up and had been responsible for receiving the knights. They met in the council room with maps and Lancelot who'd been awake as well.
"They said they were heading towards the White Mountains. What the hell is in the White Mountains?"
"Possibly a Saxon camp, but they may have not been Saxons, just dressed as them... They could have been plain bandits."
"But why take Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "Unless they were in serious need of a doctor..."
Leon shook his head, he was pretty sure that that wasn't the case... They wouldn't have come so close to Camelot merely find a doctor. If that was the case they would have actually kidnapped Gaius and been done with it. They wouldn't have taken Merlin. It was too deliberate. Was there something about Merlin that they didn't know?
"You saw him before he left didn't you? Was he carrying anything of value?"
Lancelot snorted, he didn't think that Merlin had anything of value besides his magic and his brain, but that wasn't something people would know. Despite his youth, Merlin was almost perfect at concealing or using sleight-of-hand magic. The man was brilliant. He shook his head, the man is brilliant. More brilliant than he suspected that anyone other than Gaius would ever know. Hell, with the way that Merlin is generally treated even Gaius may not know the extent of Merlin's sheer brilliance.
Maybe Gwaine...
Gwaine shook his head, no he hadn't been carrying anything out of the ordinary. He hadn't been doing anything out of the ordinary either and that's what made it even worse. They'd taken Merlin and they weren't trying to kill them. They were Saxons if that was anything to go by, but their desire for Merlin had been potent. Were they slave traders? Did they know about Merlin's magic? How? Merlin was always more than careful about concealing it.
"No. Just an empty satchel with a notebook for herb gathering inside..."
Leon sighed as Arthur marched up towards them and looked over the maps taking note to where Lancelot was saying that he tracked the the trail through just after Gwaine and Percival were taken in.
"I can't say for sure, as I didn't track that far but it is safe to say that they were heading in that direction..."
Arthur shook his head, it didn't make any sense... Saxons within the territory of Camelot...for a servant? Really? Somewhere along the lines of communication the lines were cut, but he shook his head, this was important not merely for Merlin's sake but for the general safety of Camelot. He proposed to ride out in three days time giving Gwaine and Percival time to rest up and time enough to send out inquiries as to the Saxon movements near Camelot from the garrisons. Unfortunately due to the midst of the other things on the King's schedule and other disasters in the realm, as well as the severity of Gwaine and Percival's injuries... three days turned into a seven. Gaius had nearly gone mad with worry, begging for some expedition or leave to look for him himself, but it had been for nothing. More injured were coming in, the sick and he couldn't leave. The knights were dealing with other disturbances around the kingdom. It was just a time that everyone was too stretched to do anything to look for Merlin.
Gaius thought it was ironic... When Merlin was stretched beyond his limits, he broke arm and leg to stretch further in the face of what needed to be done. Yet the kingdom that he'd been so closely guarding and protecting from the shadows could not spare a moment's breath for it's missing savior.
Arthur had been too upset to just let it rest and asked for the garrisons to stay alert for Saxons passing and Merlin's appearance. There were only reports of minor skirmishes with some bandits and a traveling band of villagers from a ravaged village in Cenred's kingdom. The name reached him: Ealdor. Apparently, the village had been burned to the ground and Cenred had forgone any aid to the poor villagers... They would arrive in Camelot in three days time from the report.
On the day they were meant to ride out something very interesting stumbled into the palace courtyard behind the remnants of Ealdor. Gaius came out to search the crowd finding a world weary Hunith among the group, guiding a pair of weeping children with her and happy to see Gaius who wouldn't be able to tell her anything more than "I'm sorry."
"Gaius," she greeted. "It's wonderful to see you! Where is that son of mine?"
Gaius swallowed greeting her and wincing at the mention of Merlin. Her eyes flickered over his face and slowly she realized the reason why he said nothing. Something had happened? A thousand possibilities flickered through her mind, the first being that Merlin had been hung or burned at the stake, the second was that he'd fled Camelot, he'd been killed in combat-
"Gaius...Where is Merlin?"
"Hunith... I need you to calm down and-"
"Where is Merlin?"
"Hunith-"
"Where is Merlin?!" She shrieked now loud enough for the knights and Arthur to hear her. "Where is my son?!"
Gwaine winced, hearing her panicked shrieking and Gaius's attempts to calm her. He'd never met Hunith, but he heard about the attack on Ealdor and the obvious closeness between her and Merlin. He didn't know how Gaius was going to tell her, or even if he should be the one to tell her considering that it was Percival, Lancelot, and Gwaine that had been there when he was taken.
"Hunith, please..."
"Please, Gaius... tell me where he is..."
A death silence passed. The world swiveled in her eyes, she saw light, but everything zoomed out of focus. Everything in her waiting for an answer and prepared to scour the entirety of Albion for her son...
"I don't know..." he said finally.
"What do you mean you don't know?! Merlin isn't the type to just go missing! He can't go missing!"
"He was taken by a band of Saxons outside of Camelot's walls-"
But Hunith didn't hear those words... only that her son, her Merlin, the only person she had left in the world was missing. Merlin, Balinor's son, the Last Dragon Lord, Camelot's Shadow Savior, her only bright light was missing... And no one seemed to care.
"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled, dismounting and rushing towards the familiar figure.
Gwaine's stomach turned. There was enough to see even beyond Merlin's usual ethereal qualities. He was so pale, yet flushed like a fairy had set a flame in each of his high cheekbones and placed him in a pale moonlight bath. His entire core went cold, he shivered and he couldn't make himself move fast enough to just keep him from falling. Everything in him screamed not to let Merlin fall, to be there, to catch him. To give him strength when he could not remember his own... He was too afraid to think of what it would be like for Merlin to fall... He didn't think he could handle seeing his one and only friend as a nothing more than and empty body with no soul behind those beautiful blue eyes.
Catch him, catch him before he falls...
Merlin was definitely easy to stop, the forward progression haulted and any semblance of energy that held him upright vanished as he collapsed into Gwaine awaiting arms. Gwaine lowered him down to the ground. Hunith whirled around as the knight rushed across the courtyard arriving along with another dark-haired knight. Not stopping once he'd gotten a closer look at the man. Hunith broke away from the children and Gaius to follow suit at the familiar shape of her son's head.
Merlin didn't hear the call, he didn't feel the cold or the wet, or the pain anymore. He didn't feel anything, not even the fact that he was moving and the forest had given way to the dust and dirt riddled streets of the lower town, getting cleaner and whiter as he approached the palace. He heard nothing and was nothing, but some body stalked by the death that waited for him to collapse. He could hear it whispering, Lay down your head... Just lay down for just a moment... He'd refused. He'd refused to do anything but walk and stumble and crawl through the dirt and mud. He refused to acknowledge the pain. That would be to remember and he couldn't do that. He had to get back to Camelot, there was no telling what trouble Arthur had gotten himself into. No telling what disaster had befallen Camelot while he was gone. No telling how worried people were. What about Gaius? Who was helping him gather herbs? And the cooks? The knights? Who was doing any of that? Surely that void left by his absence wasn't completely filled... He didn't want to think about if it was.
But suddenly he wasn't moving any more and there was a familiar smell invading his nostrils along side the dirt and blood. A familiar cold hard feeling against his cheek and the Pendragon red in his vision... He'd made it to Camelot...
"Merlin?" Gwaine ventured, gently turning him in his arms.
His face was splattered in blood, his hair was greasy and smelt of sweat, blood, and something else. Gwaine knew the smell well enough, being in enough whore houses to know, and his stomach flipped. His clothes were torn in some places, cut in others, trousers were tattered and it was Percival's grimace that attracted attention to the trail of blood prints and dribbles behind Merlin. When Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot reached him he was slumped in Gwaine's arms, ugly purple bruises around his neck, wrists, and ankles.
Hunith felt sick at the sight of him bruised and battered. He was bare foot. Bloody, dirty footsteps accompanied the drops of blood marked the direction he'd taken through the town and out into the forest. Arthur bet they could track it all the way to where he'd been taken. Gwaine lowered him gently to the ground and turned him over in his arms. It was then that Arthur realized something odd about Merlin's clothing... they weren't his. The clothes weren't his. They were too big to be his, the only thing that was recognizably Merlin's was the tips of bright red from former neckerchief and now raggedy makeshit bandage around Merlin's thigh that still oozed blood and pus. It had hadn't done much good it seemed, but he hoped that the smell was from Merlin's trek through the less than sanitary woods, and the flush was from exertion. He knew that wasn't the case looking at the blood prints. It was amazing that Merlin had enough blood to still flush.
Hunith kneeled, to murmur words to the boy that was barely conscious.
"Merlin... Merlin, darling...? Speak to me... Can you hear me?" She asked, praying to the gods that he was still alive.
Hazy, dazed, deep, red rimmed blue eyes fluttered around before focusing and bringing Hunith's worried and soot smudged face into a faded focus. She looked so frantic, he vaguely wondered why. He was fine. She was crying and tears fell to mingle dirt and blood leaking from the scrapes and cuts along his scalp and over his cheeks. Salt water cut tracks through the grime on his face revealing an even paler alabaster beneath.
"M...'m... k-..."
He passed into unconsciousness without much else, his entire body giving way and falling motionless and strengthless in Gwaine's arms. He moved to life the man but a low moan of pain stopped him. Gaius guessed there was something broken. Gwaine and Lancelot sacrificed their cloaks to slide beneath Merlin and carry him in the softness of the folds of material. They carted him quickly to Gaius's chamber who ordered them all, save Hunith, to allow him to work in peace once the hot water was boiling and he'd cut Merlin free of the clothing.
"Bring me hot water," He said. Gwaine and Lancelot rushed with buckets to the square, followed closely by Percival.
Hunith worked along side him to get him undressed and start the cleaning of wounds. After the third attempt to get Merlin out of his clothes and the moans of agony, Gaius cut the cloth away from his body with steadier hands. It was all automatic now, his mind couldn't focus on the fact that it was Merlin laying there black and blue everywhere. The wound in his leg was deep enough and long enough to see bone once he'd cleaned it of the sprigs of herbs that Merlin had stuffed it with. Hunith swallowed thickly as Gaius worked to find the points of extreme damage and she mixed potions at his command. The wounds seemed to conspire against him, or Merlin had literally dragged his body through the dirtiest, grimiest, bits of the world on his way to Camelot. Dirt and infection had set in, but not nearly as bad as Gaius would have thought. At least in the haze of the riotous fever and suffering, Merlin remember a good deal of his teachings. More than Gaius had ever realized that he'd taught him.
His feet were shredded and caked with clay and herbs, not mud. He wanted to chuckle at the obvious methodical consciousness his ward possessed even on the edge of death. There were scraps of material binding his feet, a weak split on both wrists and friction burns and bruise across his neck. There was more blood on the clothes than should have been in his body, but he found the Merlin hadn't bled fatally. They had time to save him, not much, but time enough to do so.
"Will he be alright?"
"There is hope..." But not much, Gaius knew that. He trembled to think what would happen to Camelot if Merlin died. But Merlin had lost too much blood and was fading quickly, almost too quickly for Gaius to keep up.
He stitched him closed, washed his wounds in antiseptic creams and poured tonics down his throat for the pain and to help the body seal itself up. He hoped the liquids would be enough to stave off the nearly inevitable-
"Gwaine!" Gaius called knowing the knight was right out the door.
He came through followed by Lancelot and Percival as he and Hunith attempted to hold Merlin still as the seizure set in. Percival did his best not to harm him further, but for a thin and half dead man, Merlin was strong, thrashing as his eyes rolled back and froth gathered at the edges of his lips. His seizure shook the whole bed, reopening stitches and sending blood spurting from places.
"What's happening?"
"He's going into shock, hold him still!" Gaius reached for the potion that Hunith had been mixing to finish it off and shove it down Merlin's throat and covered his mouth as the muscles, bruised and swollen, worked.
"Come on Merlin, come on!"
The thrashing died to twitching and finally he went still. They breathed for a moment until the low moan came and Gwaine bit his lip.
"Can't you give him something for the pain?"
"Any more would knock him out completely... He may not come back from that."
They took a collective look at Merlin's face, swelling from abuse and riotous blood vessels. There was nothing more to do now, but monitor him, keep him warm, keep administering potions...and pray. He prayed hard. He prayed to the Tripple Goddess to save Merlin's life...Hunith was at Merlin's bedside praying as well. Gwaine and Lancelot joined in for as long as they could leaving Percival to speak a prayer from his village over Merlin before they were called back to their duties. gwaine had even promised to give up drinking until Merlin was back to normal... Who knew how long that would be?
There was no news about him for a week, other than Gaius's scream for aid and the thud thud thud of seizures that came from the chambers and the solemn report that Gaius had to give on his condition. He was vague about the full extent of his injuries but it was enough that the threat of death was very real. Arthur stood over Merlin's sleeping form and told him not to die.
"For once you will do as I say," Arthur growled before leaving to attend the council meeting.
The entire castle had fallen into a anxious state with Merlin, the happy-go-lucky servant of the King was ill. The knights were distracted, the King was more stressed than usual, and the servants were missing Merlin. Gwen came to visit regularly and bring food. When Gaius was calling out to the stable boy that was to serve as a messenger on Merlin's status, the entire castle jumped with the yell.
"He's awake!" Gaius called. "Inform the King."
Merlin's hazy blue eyes opened to a familiar setting, settling on Gaius's form, and then Hunith's for a moment before his bruised and swollen face twisted into a clamouring smile. He didn't register the belts holding him down or his additional injuries.
"Tol- 'em ..bes-tra... here..." he said before promptly passing back into the world of unconsciousness.
Gaius only laughed in glee, not understanding and Hunith began to fret as he fell back into sleep, comforted only by the sound of his soft breathing, and the slow rise and fall of his chest. News spread fast and the entire round table came in and out of the chambers that day, hoping to catch him awake. Gwen had been the only one to see him awake. His eyes were practically swollen shut or had a bandage over it so he couldn't see her, but knew she was there by her presence.
"...'en...?" he gasped and she'd soothed him back into sleep. Hunith had gone with Gaius to search for herbs.
"You're safe in Camelot... shh..."
Even only slightly consciousness, Merlin managed to snort in derision at the phrase "safe in Camelot", surely Gwen wouldn't understand, but it was still ironic. Safe in Camelot? Not even in his sleep, he would have told her that if his throat didn't feel swollen closer. He would have told her a lot of things, but went back to sleep instead.
It was another two months before Merlin headed back to work. More because of the returning seizures and his general inability to walk than anything else.
It was another sleepless night, another wakeless day. Merlin only snorted at the irony of it. He thought after everything had been settled, after everything had been done that he'd be able to sleep at last... at least a little bit. Destiny, Fate, and the Universe in general must hate him more than usual because not only did he not sleep, he slept less and less. Ate less and less... and zoned out more and more. He was supposedly the greatest sorcerer to ever live, he'd saved Arthur from sure death a million times, gotten Gwen to marry Lancelot, ended the threat to the Arthur's life with Mordred's life, survived a torture experience he couldn't remember, had somehow ended the war with Morgana all without credit, without anything... yet here he was still shining the King's boots, getting smacked over the head. Here was a still an outlaw in the kingdom that he's saved at three hundred times...
You have not reached the fredom quota: You must reach at least four hundred before beginning your secondary term to freedom.
Yes, Destiny hated him and he was just Arthur's sidekick in the grand scheme of things...
But he couldn't get angry about it, he couldn't afford to. There was no telling what his magic would do, no telling how he would react without the constant state of vigilance that he'd programmed himself into... Even in his sleep he kept his powers locked and it was an odd feeling. When he'd tried to explain it to Gaius, the old man had only shook his head, unable to understand exactly what he meant.
"I'm sorry Merlin, I'm not the proper resource for this sort of discussion..."
His mother had only smiled and told him that she believed in him and to be careful. He'd only sighed, trust a man that learned sorcery not to understand the problems of being magic... And his mother with absolutely no magical inclination,he shouldn't have hoped for much. He could only be happy that he would not have to worry about his mother's safety along with Arthur's as much as he did. There was a little relief with that. He'd tried to speak to Mordred once and the young man only shook his head as he did not understand either... Then again the Druids were a magic practicing people, but they weren't magical creatures per se...
He thought about that most of all, did he count as a magical creature? He thought so, if he was kindred with Dragons and was born of magic so much that he was in fact magic... After the battle at Camlann he wasn't surprised that nothing had changed. Nothing at all changed, if anything it had only gotten worse, or rather it was getting worse faster. Morgana was still at large, probably working on destroying Arthur, but the attack by men had been sliced down and he hadn't lost his secret identity, either.
Nothing had changed, yet Merlin still hated it all. From the time he was a young boy to the present, his magic had grown with him, or maybe there was just more of it that he was aware of... With no one to understand him, no one to talk to, and no way out... Merlin felt himself sinking.
It was different now that he was older. With Will dead, and his mother here in the city with him. Aside from her, there was really only Gaius, Gwaine, and Lancelot who he could talk to about his magic, but even that came with complications. Lancelot was a good man, married to Gwenievere and most things that would be kept between friends would not remain so with Gwen... at least that is what he feared. Even with Lancelot's honor and integrity, his oath to never speak of it to anyone, Merlin had already placed him in a peculiar position of treason alongside Gaius... He didn't have to worry about Gwaine's loyalty as he still harbored that deep distrust of nobility anyway...He didn't want to put any further burden on either man regardless.
It had been easier when he was not in Camelot... He didn't have to lie all the time, he didn't have to keep on constant vigilance, he didn't have to fight himself and deal with the utter self-loathing and despair of being with the walls so big that they choked the life from him. While there were other problems in Ealdor, they were easier to deal with. They weren't constant. He could tune them out or make them go away. There were simple things that needed to be fixed, simple problems like a broken cart or a low return on crops... Things easily solved, things he could solve without fear of death. There words and disdain were nothing but talk: easily encountered, evoked and ignored. Now that Ealdor no longer existed, most of those problems had disappeared with the people. The few people that were now in Camelot were more concerned with rebuilding their lives than dredging up the past knowledge of Ealdor, which meant that he, and his mother, were more than free now.
Camelot had these problems and more that tied his hands most of the time. When the nightmares had started, he'd only told Gaius that he couldn't sleep. When he was alone and the faces of those that didn't have to die, or with the faint memories that his entire being repressed with a vigor so strong it shook his core to make him think of what he didn't want to remember. If he'd only used his powers appeared in the waking world, he'd covered his ears and shook his head trying to block out the sounds. But they weren't external incantations, but hallucination created by his magic and guilt, entwined and seeping out of his trembling control. He'd started channeling his magic as an adrenaline boost then, getting through the day and the harshness of his vigiliance then, but it wasn't enough. There was always something else-another danger, another battle, another sheet to wash, another sword to shine until he looked up one day and couldn't remember why he was there...
Being in Camelot, in this way, had drained so much from him that all that could be left was exhaustion... Utter exhaustion giving way to despair. A despair no one in Camelot was privy to, a despair that no one in Camelot could possibly understand, after all what other magic user would be dumb enough to live in Camelot? A despair that Merlin had spent his entire life running from. And with the despair came questions, questions that only brought on more darkness, more pain, and more despair-
"Are you done with that?"
Life...yes.
He looked down at the gleaming boots that he hadn't realized he'd been shining and set them aside, cramming a smile on his face before standing and going about the room to tidy it up, hearing only half of what Arthur said consciously. Though the King had broken him out of his thoughts, he had not stopped them. As he worked, the mindless movements of his body like a magical puppet, his thoughts came back in their darkness and Merlin tried to shake them away. Flashes of fire and tightened grips squeezing... No air, the burning, the feverish warmth, and the coming darkness that would never turn to light. The relief and rest, he could just-
What was wrong with him? He swore that he hadn't felt this crummy this morning... Maybe he shouldn't have ate that bread three days ago...He hadn't been hungry, it was just that Gwaine was so damned persistent, cornering him with it and a sly smile. Lancelot had been there and Gwen and if he didn't then they would ask, and there were too many questions that he didn't want to answer and couldn't answer and wouldn't answer and with those three all of them would have been asked.
"About time Merlin, where is my address for the council?"
He handed it over to the harried Arthur who muttered and didn't seem to notice anything about his mood, or maybe he didn't care. He wouldn't be surprised. Merlin was only a servant to him, to Camelot, to fate, and to the Tripple Goddess. He was left alone and Merlin stood in the middle of the room for some undetermined amount of time... He didn't know what he'd done, didn't notice anything but when he came to he was in Gaius's chambers cleaning the leech tank with no recollection of how he got there. Gaius was muttering about something or another but Merlin only heard his voice like an auto-reply, he didn't hear anything else, didn't feel anything else either even as Gaius grabbed his hand to seer one of the leeches off his arm.
"Be more careful, you silly boy."
Merlin smiled up at the man and nodded, chuckling at his stupidity and then Gaius was gone, shuffling out to give his address at the council, leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts again. It was really the last place he wanted to be, but seemingly the only place he could go. When he was alone, he was as free as possible in Camelot. Though his sense went straight to any opening in the room to make sure no one was watching him, it was a moment of relaxation and self-loathing that Merlin had realized that he was cherishing. He'd caught himself in dark fantasies and shuddered once upon a time... Now they were daydreams of death and solitude.. or ease and peace... of freedom.
There was something churning in his chest now, he hadn't noticed it before... or rather he hadn't acknowledged it. But it wasn't time to acknowledge it now either as Arthur appeared to yell at him about something and order him to go muck out the stables for his carelessness. He wasn't really sure what Arthur hit him for, but he could hear the playful reply as he headed towards the stable and found himself with a shovel in hand looking into the stables without any emotion. His hands were already trembling, and the clouds churned overhead, growling, roaring in their discontent. The rain came down, but he didn't feel it. His eyes stayed focus on the thick black muck he was shoveling out.
Gwaine came from the council meeting and instantly searched for Merlin, he was of course joined by Lancelot who looked just as worried for the younger man as he did. Though the princess had the emotional observation skills of a blinded corpse, they had noticed. Merlin had gotten up too quick from his week of going missing, and when he thought he was alone there was a deep darkness on his face and the stuttered walking gave way to limping and agony. But whenever they moved to say something, that Merlin sublimated into nothing and it all felt like an illusion. They hadn't been able to shake the feeling as Merlin got thinner and thinner, looking more like a skeleton. His eyes were darkened with the lack of rest...
Merlin was wasting away.
"Merlin?" Lancelot asked.
"I don't know..."
As they headed down the corridors and heard the rain falling, they started up an idle chat about the general state of affairs. As the asked about the palace, no one had seen him, not even Gwen had seen him. Arthur told them that the idiot was "mucking the stables for once." While Lancelot didn't agree with the terms, he thanked the King and the pair were on their way. Gwaine was seething at his side.
"That Arthur... needs to get his head out of his arse and fast," Gwaine started huffing. "Where does Princess get off calling Merlin an idiot?! All he needs is a good punch right between the eyes..."
Lancelot shook his head looking through the sheets of rain and sleet and hearing Arthur bellowing for Merlin to do something about his fire or another. Gwaine had half a mind to tell him to stuff it and do it himself for a change, but changed his mind as they rounded the corner to the stables and found no one there. Fresh hay had been laid, no doubt by Merlin. But that wasn't the problem as Gwaine leaned closer to touch the slightly wet and darker pieces of hay: blood. It was fresh and sticky, too thin to be from anyone healthy. Lancelot shook his head turning towards the other side as Gwaine continued to grumble about Arthur's mistreatment and Merlin's overly passive nature.
"He needs to get angry for once in his extremely passive life!"
"Merlin?" Lancelot called only to see the younger man outside away from any sort of covering, hauling something along, dragging it across the ground with all the power in his extremely frail body.
Gwaine gasped and Lancelot stood motionless. They'd known that Merlin was getting thinner by the day, but most attempts to get the man to sit down and eat were useless... Any attempt to get Merlin to talk hadn't worked in the slightest, but they'd kept trying... they kept failing, but they hadn't realized that their efforts had failed so miserably.
"I'll kill him," Gwaine growled under his breath as they marched through the icy rain towards Merlin, shivering in his soaked clothing.
His clothes were at least three times too big, and now that they were closer to Merlin than they'd been in a fairly long time, he was paler, bluer, and his cheekbones were practically cutting through his skin as he focused his eyes on the bag that just wouldn't move.
"Merlin, come inside, it's freezing out here!" Lancelot said grabbing him and realizing that his hand wrapped a little too far around Merlin's arm.
The action pulled Merlin's hands free and away from the ropes so they could see his hands bleeding from mistreatment.
"MEEEERRRRLIIIINNNN!"
But Merlin didn't hear anything. He didn't feel anything, his entire body was numb. Everything was going black and blurry and he prayed that it would be the last time... He saw Gwaine and Lancelot looking at him worriedly and as he tried to force a smile to tell them that he was alr-
"Merlin! Merlin!"
At least he saw two people that cared for him. He'd told his mother that he loved her... he'd seen Gwen that day and Gaius. The only person in his life that he hadn't seen properly was Arthur, but that wasn't that big of a loss. He was sure the Once and Future King had more important people to tell them that he appreciated them, or to be told that he was loved by them. Merlin sighed as he felt the cold stone rising up to meet him and cradle his trembling body.
At least he wouldn't have to feel this pain of loving any more...
