Disclaimer: IDOM
Hello there! Firstly, I really want to thank all of you for your wonderful reviews. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond, but rest assured that I do get them and I appreciate every one of them. They're super encouraging. Secondly, one of my goals for this story is not to have everything revealed right when I introduce a new idea, so the plot points will (hopefully) unfold between chapters. Hopefully.
Anyway, I don't have much time to talk, so thank you all again. Enjoy:
Chapter 2: Breaking Point
The clouds above Camelot that, finally, promised rain did nothing to lighten the depressed atmosphere. Guinevere's heart felt as heavy as the clouds holding in the coming storm, and she plucked at her sleeve as she looked anxiously out the wide glass window. Ebony clothed soldiers milled around a long line of citizens waiting for their morning rations, joking and laughing as the mass of citizens frowned with their shoulders hunched. Thankfully, she didn't see any children. The last thing those animals needed was a smart-mouthed child setting off the short-tempered soldiers. She saw Leon's strawberry blond curls standing beside the well, his black cape fluttering as the wind pulled on it.
"Guinevere," Morgana called.
The servant whipped round, her chocolate eyes finding the woman on the other side of the room. Her gaze settled on the thin leather string around Morgana's neck; her heart fluttered at just the sight of it, knowing what it held. What Morgana prided herself on. Guinevere swallowed thickly. "Yes, my lady?"
"Before you get the warlock his breakfast, be a dear and get me some water for washing, won't you?"
Guinevere bowed her head in respect, clasping her hands in front of her. "Of course, Your Majesty." After she'd turned her back, Gwen rushed from the wrongful-Queen's chambers. Once the door was closed firmly behind her, the girl collapsed against the stone wall, knowing that no one else was brave enough wander down this hallway to see her. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, grateful for a reason to be away from the woman who had caused her so much pain.
With shaking hands, she pushed herself away from the wall, forcing herself to continue down the hallway. She pulled a pail from a supply closet and clutched it in her hand as she hopped down the stairs. No one she passed was smiling genuinely. The guards were either straight and stoick or slouching and drunk. The servants gave her a polite smile in greeting, but it didn't reach any of their eyes. Gwen couldn't blame them.
The past three weeks certainly hadn't given them something to celebrate, after all.
The girl squinted her eyes as she stepped into the main courtyard. A place once filled with love and laughter now seemed paler and more depressing then ever before, even during Uther's reign. Gwen clenched her jaw as she saw the people of Camelot up close. Each of them were frowning, heads down in reluctant respect as the guards passed on either side of them. Guinevere saw several of whom she was close with, and knew that each of them had involuntarily lost weight. The rations that Morgana was allowing weren't enough to properly feed these people. And the water rations were barely enough to keep them healthy.
"Leon," she greeted.
The knight turned around immediately at the sound of her voice, and for the first time that morning, Guinevere saw a true smile ghosting his thin lips. "Gwen, how are you?"
"As well as can be expected, I suppose." She lifted her wooden bucket. "Morgana wants water to wash."
"Yes," he said dryly. "I'm sure she does." He gently took the pail from her, setting it at the well's base and drawing up the bucket already there.
Guinevere frowned knowingly. "How are you doing?"
After a moment, he shook his head. "Same as you, I suppose. Camelot grows weaker by the day. If only Arthur..."
"Yes," Gwen agreed, looking at her hands. "If only. What of the others?"
Sighing, Leon pulled the bucket of water towards him, letting the rope loosen as he tipped the water into Gwen's pail. "Elyan is handing out food rations and Percival, I believe, is helping unload supplies on the North end of the castle."
"And Gwaine?"
The knight pressed his lips together. "He's still in the dungeons. He wouldn't cooperate with Morgana to save his mother's life. I'm surprised he's still alive himself."
A smirk pulled on Gwen's lips. "I think Morgana is rather fond of his rebelliousness. She was much the same."
"Yes, I remember," he nodded
"Leon, have you been to see Gaius?"
His eyes hardened, and he nodded seriously. Just as he was handing her the now full pail of water, something slipped from his glove, and he pressed it into her open hand, careful that no one saw.
She smiled gratefully, her heart a little lighter. "Thank you," she said sincerely. Gwen turned to walk back to the castle, but Leon's voice pulled her back.
"Guinevere, one last thing: How is Merlin?"
Immediately, the girl's smile fell, and she turned back round, eyes pained. "He's not well," she answered gently.
The knight's head dropped a fraction, and he nodded sadly. "I understand. Thank you, Gwen."
Pursing her lips, she nodded back, continuing towards the main entrance. Her fingers stayed locked around the pail's cold handle all the way to Morgana's chambers, and by the time she got there, there was an angry red line across her fingers. She knocked briefly on the door before entering, making her way towards the deep bowl on her mistress's antique bureau. Voices came from the antechamber, but she focused on her task, eager to be gone once more. She poured the water from the bucket into the bowl, careful not to spill. Once she was finished, she set the bucket aside and straightened up the bed, making sure everything was the way Morgana like it before she made ready to leave.
Before she could, however, the door to the adjacent room opened, revealing Morgana and Agravaine discussing the usual business. Guinevere bowed. "My lady," she greeted. "My lord."
The lord smiled thinly at her. No matter how he smiled, he always looked like a snake. "Ah, Gwen, finished your chores?"
"Yes, I was just going to bring the warlock his breakfast."
Morgana nodded. "Good. On your way, then."
Guinevere straightened, glancing at her mistress and Arthur's traitorous uncle before picking the pail back up and walking towards the door. Oh, how she wished she could only say her friend's name in front of Morgana. "Merlin" or "Emrys," however, were not names you used in Morgana's presence. But Gwen would just to spite her. Clenching her jaw, Guinevere threw the bucket back into the supply closet, praying to God that it would grow mold and Morgana become fatally ill from infection, as unlikely as it was.
Slipping her hand into the pocket of her dress, Gwen's delicate fingers wrapped around the small vial as she picked up her pace. She walked into the kitchens, eyes immediately landing on the pitiful tray of food meant for her friend. All it consisted of was a small loaf of bread, some nuts, and a glass of water, which was actually more than usual. The girl took her hand out of her dress to grasp the tray with both hands, and left the kitchens before anyone could stop and question her on Merlin's health and why he was up there in the first place.
That was the only shred of gratitude Guinevere held for Morgana—she'd kept Merlin's secret. She hadn't told anyone of his magic, nor the truth of Arthur's death. Though, Gwen was sure that Morgana hadn't told anyone because then the people would understand that she'd been defeated time and time again by a lowly servant. She liked to keep her secrets, too.
Gwen's lips pressed into a hard line as she arrived at the stairway to the West Tower. A guard stood watch at the beginning of the spiral staircase, and Guinevere barely gave him a glance as she walked past him. She paced herself as she hopped up the steps, no matter how hard it was, knowing from experience that she'd be worn out at the top if she rushed herself now. The young woman kept her hands round the platter, balancing it as best she could, fearful for any spilled water. Her friend barely got enough as it was.
"Ah, Gwen," the guard at the top greeted. "Is it time already?"
She gave him a small smile, remembering the handful of times he'd allowed her to slip a little extra food to the warlock. "Morning. And yes." Gwen nodded at the door. "Could you?"
The guard stepped sideways, the keys jingling as he pulled them from his pocket. He picked out the right one and inserted it into the lock, and something in Guinevere's chest snapped, allowing her to breath better, just as the lock clicked open. She could barely hold herself back while she waited for him to open the door.
"Here you go," Myor said, taking a step in and holding the door for her.
Gwen bit the inside of her cheek, averting her eyes from the room until the guard stepped back out and locked the door behind him. She turned around. The tower was the same: the ceiling was lost in darkness, and the place generally smelled damp and wet. It was eerily silent, and the only light that came in was from a large open window set in about the center of the wall. She looked towards her friend. Though she'd tried to prepare herself, as per usual, it wasn't enough. Her heart sank to the floor and her breath caught, tears pushing against her eyes while she forced herself to carefully set the tray down. Once that was done, she rushed to her shaking friend and collapsed beside him, putting her hand on his delicate cheekbone as a sign of affection while she fixed the single blanket Morgana had allowed him to have. The light beard he'd grown since being imprisoned was soft against her skin.
He shifted against the dark-stoned wall he was leaning against, his dulled eyes cracking open with great effort. They were still a shockingly gorgeous shade of blue. At least that was the same. "Gwen?"
The girl brushed his dark hair behind his ear, allowing a tear to fall from her long lashes. "Yes, Merlin. It's me. I'm here." God, it felt good to talk to him, to hear his voice, no matter how strained it was.
Merlin sighed, leaning into her warm touch. "It's good to see you," he rasped.
Tenderly, she kissed his forehead. "You too. Let me get you some water." Slowly, she rose, so as not to alarm him, and walked towards the tray. Gwen picked it up and brought it over, setting it down beside her. With deft fingers, she pulled the vial from her dress and pulled off the cork, emptying the blue liquid into the clear water. She swirled the cup, mixing the potion before pressing it against Merlin's pale lips. "Slowly now."
Obediently, the warlock drank, his fingers rising to curl around the the cup. Gwen let him, smiling gently as she wiped her face. He didn't drink all of it, but that wasn't unusual. "Better?"
"A little."
"Good," she said, picking up the bread. "Now, you have to eat—"
"Gwen, I don't—"
"A little," she interrupted. "For me. Please."
He sighed again, his lips drawing into a frown as he nodded. "Okay." Gwen gave him an encouraging smile, dipping the bread into the water to soften it. Merlin took the small piece, looking at it with something akin to disgust in his eyes. He took a bite, instantly feeling his stomach protesting as nauseous rushed through him and he choked.
Guinevere set her hand on his arm with alarm. "Merlin, are you alright? Drink some more water."
He shook his head, however, and pushed the cup away, keeping his hand fisted over his mouth until he swallowed it. "No, Gwen, I can't. It... I can't..." Tears suddenly began to build in his eyes, falling as perfect droplets from his dark lashes. "I'm sorry. I can't. I just can't. It hurts too much. I'm sorry."
Tears began to fall again from Gwen's eyes too, and she leaned forwards to embrace her friend. "It's okay, Merlin. It's alright. We can try again later."
He clung to her, allowing his sobs to overwhelm his slim form. "I'm sorry, Gwen. It's my fault. All of this is my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
More words. Words that Guinevere heard everyday from him. Words that pained her so deeply that she allowed her own body to shake with anguish. It wasn't his fault. It was Morgana's and Morgana's alone, but there was no arguing with Merlin; there was no consoling him. Only Arthur would be able to do that.
Gwen tightened her hold on him, running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. "Just wait til Arthur gets here, Merlin. It'll all be alright."
"He's gone, Gwen. He's—It's been three weeks."
Immediately, the serving girl pulled back, stunned. "Merlin, no. Listen, you told me what you did—"
"And there's no guarantee it worked. Three weeks, Guinevere. I failed him. Again. He isn't coming back."
A fist closed around Gwen's lungs, squeezing and squeezing until it felt like she couldn't breathe. Merlin couldn't be losing hope. He couldn't. It was the only thing keeping him going. Arthur's return was the only thing he lived for now; his finale hope of release from this prison, from the glowing band locked round his ankle. If he lost that hope, Guinevere feared that he would fade further than he already had.
"Merlin..."
His breath hitched before he let out a strangled cry and his eyes clenched in pain. One hand travelled down towards his ankle, grabbing for the metal ring. His magic had flared, Gwen realised, as it often did when Arthur was mentioned.
"Merlin! Please, calm down."
"It hurts, Gwen," he cried, flinching. "It hurts."
She pulled him close again, trying not only to comfort him, but to draw his attention from the pain she knew was shooting relentlessly through him. "I know. I know. I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm sorry."
Hinges squealed, and Gwen's attention was pulled back to the door as Myor stepped in. "Time's up, Guinevere."
The girl knew she couldn't argue. The time limit set by Morgana was non-negotiable, and if she learned that she'd stayed longer, or that Myor had let her stay longer, then she'd have both their heads. "Okay, just one second." She leaned close to Merlin once more, whispering in his ear. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I have to go. Arthur will come for you, I'm sure of it."
But the mantra "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was already falling from his lips. More tears fell from Gwen's eyes as her nostrils flared with grief. Merlin truly believed that his best friend—his brother—was dead. He had reached his breaking point.
"Oh my God," she whispered. She squeezed the warlock once more, knowing she had to leave before Morgana came looking for her. "I'm sorry, Merlin," Gwen offered, kissing him once more on his cheek. "I'll be back later, alright?"
She pulled back and stood, forcing her feet to lead her to the door. Gwen made the mistake of looking back, however, and saw her best friend folding in on himself, drawing his knees to his chest with grief. There was a soft muttering sound, and she knew that "I'm sorry" was still falling as heavy as iron from his lips. He was... God, he looked...
He was beyond his breaking point.
Guinevere ran down the steps faster than she ever had, allowing her tears to fall freely as she paused in the middle of the spiral staircase, at a place where the guard on either end couldn't see her. "Please, Arthur," she begged, snapping her eyes shut. "For him, Arthur. Please."
No one answered, however. No one gave her a sign. And that was when her hope, too, began to dim.
I hope you guys liked it! I've got quite a week ahead of me, but I'll try my best to reply to any reviews I get. Thank you for reading!