Disclaimer I do not own Merlin
Summary Weights surround murderers, and Merlin can see all of them. Implied suicide attempt.
He didn't understand how no one else could see it. How no one noticed the sharp cold unforgiving chains wrapped around Uther's waist. The harsh but also warm, cruel but also soft shackles surrounding Arthur's wrists. And how Morgana was weighed down with irons that whispered of justice and unrelenting hatred and fear.
And then there was himself. The manacles that started as kind and forgiving and smiles but then turned to never ending and pitiless and bitter.
Some days he wasn't able to get out of bed. Some days the manacles weighed so much that he wasn't able to stand, not even when Gaius bustled in, talking of tardiness and breakfasts and royalty.
And then he would grin, and stand anyway, because who was he to complain?
Why shouldn't he have a hard time living with himself after all he's done?
:-:
You're rushing through the halls. Except no, you aren't in the halls anymore, you're right outside Gaius' and now you're inside, not bothering to hide how much worry you feel.
"Arthur," Gaius greets you, and you almost don't even hear him, so focused are you on the small (too small) body lying on the cot in the corner of the room.
"What happened?" You ask (no) (demand) as you walk towards him. "The servant didn't tell me anything."
Gaius flitters about, and you start to think that he won't answer. "As far as we can tell, Sire, he fell down the stairs."
A grin begins to appear on your face and you say, "So it was nothing more than him being his normal clumsy self?" You shake your head and tack on, "He'll be alright though, right? When Morgana (and it hurts so much to say her name) fell down the stairs, you were able to heal her."
Gaius nods, and yet he doesn't look convinced. "Of course, Sire. If you could leave now, please, so I can get to work..?" He trails off and you nod. You know next to nothing about healing, and you'll only get in the way.
It's still hard to leave.
:-:
The two weeks pass by so slowly, you think someone has an enchantment over the city. You almost even mention your thoughts to your father, because maybe storming others' homes will take your mind away from suffering (dying) servants. And then you catch yourself, because there is no enchantment, you know there isn't, and it wouldn't be the making of a just king to make up dangerous facts.
When Gwen rushes into your chambers with wet cheeks, you immediately think the worst. "Gwen," you whisper. "He isn't - he can't be?"
"No!" She almost shouts. "Arthur, he's awake!"
You go faster than you thought possible, and yet it still seems like it takes hours (days) (months) (years) before you're once again in front of Gaius' door. You don't remember opening it, but you must have, for now you're standing above the cot. It's exactly like two weeks ago.
Except Merlin's eyes are open, and they're staring at you.
You try to speak, to say something, but your mouth is so dry, and your tongue feels too large. So Merlin speaks instead.
"Hey, Arthur." His voice is so quiet, and it sounds like it's uncomfortable to talk. And that's when words start bubbling out.
"Don't speak, Merlin. It'll hurt your throat. Have you had some water yet?" You pause for a second, and then, "You really should be more careful, Merlin. I mean, falling? Down stairs? Stairs you've spent the last few years going up and down? You could have die- something bad could've happened." You notice Merlin flinch at the mention of dying.
:-:
The manacles that he carried looked different now. They were still never ending and pitiless and bitter, but now they had a little weak link that hadn't appeared until after he had taken his fall down the stairs.
The little weak link said that he failed.
