Merlin was woken out of his blissful experience in the haven of unconsciousness, in a dreamland where Arthur and Gwen and Gaius thrived… by the boiling water that hit his face. It was the shock, merely, that sent a painful shudder up his spine. He gasped from the heat, whereas he had already been freezing. "Good morning sunshine!"Oh, it was him again.
Merlin opened one swollen black eye and sorely regretted it. He was doused with another tub of water, and his numb skin burned with the extra heat. Maurus always kept him underground, where the damp and lack of light led to below zero temperatures. That in itself would not have daunted him if had he not been stripped of his shirt.
He was bare-chested, and the small hairs adorning his upper body were stiff and covered with tiny ice crystals. Ice had started to form in his scruffy chin. But the cold was nothing, no; it was the pain that bothered him.
From what Gaius had told him about human anatomy, the human hand was a series of levers and pulleys, and the pain of even having a broken finger was supposed to be able to bring a strong full-grown man to his knees in excruciating agony.
That was not exaggerated; for every time Merlin tried to stand he was hit with a nausea so fierce he fell for the pure fact that he felt the world wobble under his feet. It was his hands that were the worst. Merlin was absolutely positive that he could have gone the rest of his life not knowing the pain his old mentor had described. It had seemed much simpler in a book.
Both of his hands were broken, and every finger on them. The chain around his neck would have prevented him from standing all the same. The anger that built in Merlin's chest at this thought triggered his magic… And his magic triggered the collar. One of Uther's original design, meant to counter balance any magic the prisoner may have.
Merlin's worked wonderfully.
Immediately, the collar around his neck sensed the magic. Obi-wan hissed in pain as his body was suddenly set aflame, traveling along every vessel and pore in his body like lightning. He screamed. Maurus, above him, smiled.
Merlin's head spun as he toppled forward, he pitched out his arms to catch himself and landed right on crushed hands. He moaned in agony as he felt the sharp pain reverberate from his fingertips to his toes. He lay there at Bruck's feet, struggling at control.
"The most determined soul can control pain through deep breaths" Arthur had always counseled his Knights during training. The words echoed in his mind as he gasped for breath, his clothes, hair and skin dripped with sweat and jerked with little volts of pain every once in awhile.
His skin was starting to lose heat again. He had been able to feel the warmth his body generated normally for a mere few seconds, and it had been wonderful, yet now he was going to freeze again.
"Having fun, Emrys the Immortal, Emrys the mighty?" Maurus wondered, rocking on his heels. He was childishly insane. Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Not exactly," he forced his beaten and bloody lips to reply. He wasn't drained of tenacity yet. After all, three months was not enough to break him. He had endured much worse while in Arthur's service. "I'm a bit bored, honestly. You ought to learn how to be a better host," it was idiotic, he knew, to antagonize Maurus. However surely the maniac expected nothing less.
As if to agree, his magic flared, and the collar sent another bolt of pain up his spine. Merlin clenched his teeth hard. He would not let Maurus hear his pain. He had more dignity than that. Nevertheless, his scorched vocal pipes let out another groan of pain. He sunk back to the ground, unable to push himself up to look Maurus in the eye. Helplessness floated through him, making fury flare in his soul.
He hated being helpless. He was Emrys, for goodness sakes. He was Emrys.
Maurus knelt beside him and put a hard, calloused hand on Merlin's shoulder. The warlock tensed. "Don't touch me," he hissed maliciously.
Maurus paid no heed to his words. Instead, he ran a finger down Merlin's bare back licentiously, gently tracing the dozens of scars there. The physical proof of Merlin's loyalty to Arthur and Albion. "You have been hurt before. Years of toil, all written like calligraphy upon your skin…Tell me Emrys, has anyone ever tamed you?" Maurus wondered conversationally.
Calm down, let it go, he appealed to himself as the humiliation of his helplessness and the indignity of Maurus touch sent his anger near the edge of its bounds. If he became angry his magic would come to his defense, and Merlin would rather not go through such pain again. He had informally trained himself in self-discipline for years. He had conquered anger, fear and prejudice before, and never been broken, never had snapped.
"Never will anyone tame me," his voice was calm though his body shivered with cold and anger. You saved Arthur, The Knights and Camelot. This is nothing compared to their lives, that calmed him. At least Arthur was still all right. In that, Merlin found strength.
"Never? Arrogant words for a humbled man. You know," Maurus patted Merlin's back fondly and slipped a small dagger from his booth sheathe. Eyeing it with affection, he smiled. Merlin watched him from the corner of his eyes and struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. That sent the entire vicinity to spin, and he groaned as he fell back over.
"You and I, Emrys are not so different," with motherly tenderness, Maurus took his knife and skimmed it over Merlin's skin, making thin yet deep slits in his flesh. Merlin tensed and prepared himself for the pain.
"We both have ambition; we are charming and can manipulate. Determined, proud and strong, defiant and loyal. The only difference between us is the past," Maurus sighed repentantly and lifted the knife, studying whatever pattern he had shaped into Merlin's flesh with interest.
Fury, hot and steely, built in Merlin's chest. He swallowed his humiliation and pain. "Exhibit A: I tried to help my people. I stayed with the druids when they were being executed; I stood up to the cowards of Camelot. I was their savior!" This was accentuated with a small jab at Merlin's back, making a dot and also sending a sharp ripple to his brain. Instinctively, his body twitched.
He let out a growl. Maurus chuckled at the sound, as if Merlin were a child that had spoken his first word incorrectly. "And you, you played lap dog to a foreign prince. You defended those murderers. You betrayed us all, you are the reason my family is dead. You, and that stupid King," a slow exhalation of breath. "But that's the past, I suppose. No need to dwell on it," Maurus mumbled, calmer this time.
Merlin glanced up, intending to let out a very witty remark when he suddenly was yanked upwards by the chain around his neck. He choked on a scream as Maurus slashed down violently. A long, jagged cut ran down the length of his chest. The blood burned the sensitive skin.
Merlin scrabbled at his throat while at the same time struggling to get away from Maurus. His efforts only made Maurus yank him closer, close enough that the maniac's voice tickled his ear. "That," Maurus continued, lowering his voice threateningly. "Is the pain I'm going to make you feel every day, in every way, for the rest of your life. There is no escape from this, from me. You will live in agony and despair. You will breathe in darkness and evil. You will see no mercy, no light ever again. You will never feel the thrill of freedom or joy. Do you understand? Until the day I finally decide to let you die, you are mine," he bent down, blocking out everything else with his own face.
"So I hope serving the Pendragon over your people was worth it, because you are never going to see him again. He's abandoned you, your precious light and love. Welcome," he smiled bitterly and Merlin's breath hitched in his throat. "To eternal nighttime. To never-ending malice. To my revenge, my slave," and then the world disappeared into unconsciousness.