Merlin sat next to Arthur, worrying his lip. It had been easy to drive the Dark King from his mind. The pain the King had inflicted had been real, but it had been easy. Too easy. A simple spell had forced him out. How could that be? Either the King had not expected to be resisted - but no, he had known who Merlin was, knew of the Druidic prophecies and therefore of the power he would encounter - or he had not actually been trying to overpower Merlin. And that raised the uncomfortable possibility that what pain the King had inflicted on him was as nothing to whatever it was that was to come.
And then there was Arthur. He was as pale as he had been before and the fire had done nothing to warm him. Merlin had gently probed with his magic, but couldn't find anything actually wrong with him. There was no sign of any dark power that held him in place. Had they not been unable to move him, he would not even have thought that magic was involved.
He looked around. The others were some way down the hall, looking at the engravings on some of the columns in the hope that they would tell them something about the place they were in. Sighing, he reached out to lay a hand on Arthur's forehead. As he did so, the king's eyelids flickered briefly, then opened. He stared at Merlin reaching towards him. Merlin froze, then slowly pulled back. The two looked at each other, and Merlin could see something smouldering in Arthur's eyes. His stomach lurched as he realized what it was. It was hatred. Pure, unadulterated, burning. Suddenly, without warning, Arthur was on his feet and moving towards Merlin. Before the servant could comprehend what was happening, he found himself falling backwards. His head hit the cold, hard rock of the floor with a crack. His vision went white, and suddenly a knee connected with his stomach as he threw up and choked on his own bile. Then strong fingers were wrapping themselves around his throat and a voice was hissing into his ear.
'You treacherous, miserable little wretch! Self-serving scum. Did you really think I would let you get away with this?'
Merlin flailed weakly and tugged uselessly at the hands around his throat, coughing.
'Arthur!' he croaked.
'Don't speak, filth.' He could feel the warmth of Arthur's breath on his skin. 'You only know how to lie. You've never spoken a true word in your life.'
The pressure on his throat increased, and his vision went black as he found that he couldn't draw breath any more. He began to panic and flapped his hands desperately against Arthur's arms.
'This is better than you deserve. For every spell you've woven, every lie you've spoken. I trusted you. I wish I'd never met you, traitor.'
The words cut straight through the panic. For every spell you've woven. His heart stopped.
He felt himself being pulled up by the neck before his head crashed against the floor again. Then suddenly the pressure was released and through ringing ears, Merlin heard the words, 'That's enough!' being yelled and the sounds of a struggle.
'Let go of me!' he heard Arthur yell. 'Let go! He's a traitor! He-'
'Hold him down, Percy. He's lost his mind.'
Then gentle hands were touching him, softly feeling for injury. His chest, his neck, his scalp-
'…bleeding from the back of his head.'
'…got the bandages?'
He was being lifted. Tender hands held his head, and something soft was wrapped around it.
'-on't let him black ou-'
'-lin? Stay with me, Merlin.'
But the darkness was welcoming, and Merlin, terrified and heart-broken, sank into it gratefully.
Arthur sat staring into the flames of the little fire.
'All I knew was hatred. Everything in me was consumed by it. There was only one thing that mattered: to take revenge on Ianus, by killing him and by making my name great.'
'So when you saw Merlin…?' Gwaine prompted.
'So when I saw Merlin, all I could see was the man who had betrayed my trust. I saw Ianus. I don't know why.'
The knights glanced at each other.
'Really?' said Percival. 'Forgive me, sire, but is it really that strange?'
'What do you mean?'
'I know that visiting dignitaries think that Merlin's just a servant, but the whole of the castle knows that he's not just a servant. Not to you. Not to us, either, but especially not to you.'
Arthur stayed silent.
'He's your friend, Arthur,' Elyan said. 'You probably trust him more than any of the rest of us, even if you never say it. It's obvious. And he's been more loyal to you than anyone.'
'He'd give up his life for you,' said Gwaine. 'Yet he's not sworn to that, unlike us, and he isn't treated as if he was, unlike us. We get the honour and the rank because we take our oath. He gets nothing, except to be by you, and do you know what? I almost think that that's enough for him. I don't know anyone who would give as much for you in exchange for so little.'
'And we know that there's very little you wouldn't do for him. You barely knew him and you defied your father to find the mortaeus for him,' said Elyan.
'He'd just saved my life. It was the right thing to do,' protested Arthur.
'But you didn't just do it because it was right, did you?' said Gwaine. 'And you didn't take his place to fight me in Jarl's arena just because it was right. And you didn't carry him from Morgana's mercenaries when he was injured just because it was right. You did it all because you're his friend, too, and because you'll do everything you can for him, as much as your position allows. Because you care about him too.'
'So your feelings - or rather, Mágos' feelings - towards Ianus were very similar, at first, to your feelings towards Merlin,' continued Percival. 'At least, as far as the trust was concerned. And when you woke believing that your trust had been betrayed by the friend you trusted most…'
Arthur looked at the unconscious figure of his manservant. Pale and dishevelled, he looked terribly young as he lay there.
'Mágos hates friendship,' he said sadly. 'He hates loyalty and,' and he said the next word almost inaudibly, 'love. The things Merlin- that he lives. Mágos- I'm not sure how, but he gets friends to betray each other. He'll even allow one of them to escape from here in order to betray the other and drive them to despair. He hates the glory of others, and he hates everything that Camelot is built upon.
'Merlin once said to me that he was happy to be my servant 'til the day he died,' Arthur continued quietly. 'And how have I repaid him?'
'That's the Dark King's influence,' said Percival. The others looked at him. 'I haven't told you what happened to me in the tunnels before Gwaine and Merlin found me, but I think it explains what you did, Arthur.
'I was caught in a vision. Except that it was more than that. I was living someone else's life. I saw everything through his eyes, felt his feelings. I was him.'
With that, Percival told them the story of the physician who fled Uther's men.
'I was terrified of your father, Arthur. The rumours of what Uther did to people with magic were beginning to spread, and although nothing was known for certain, there was talk of-' He swallowed. 'Of fire. Some people said they had heard the screams in visions and dreams. I couldn't let the soldiers catch me. I couldn't. And then there was Iseult, and Drustan. I didn't know how else to protect them but by running.
'I've never been so scared in all my life. I've never been as afraid as I was in that vision. I can still feel the fear now. It was horrific, Arthur.'
'Father always said,' said Arthur slowly, 'that we had to take the fight to those with magic, otherwise they would bring it to us.'
'I - the physician, I mean - had never travelled more than a few days' journey in any direction. There was nothing in me - in him - that spoke of wanting to even go to Camelot, never mind wanting to do anything to undermine the king. Life was good: I had a wife and a child and the promise of a quiet life. I earned enough; I was content. I'd had magic for years and had no desire at all to get more of it. I was happy - he was happy - knowing the handful of spells he knew. I don't like to speak ill of the dead, sire, but-'
'Then don't,' said Arthur. 'You don't need to. I understand what you're saying.'
'Anyway,' Percival continued, 'when I woke up I was sure that I was this man, and that I had just met the Dark King and that he had shown me Iseult being unfaithful and that I had given up. Gwaine knows.' He threw a grateful look towards Gwaine, who gave a small smile and nodded back. 'I think something similar happened to you.'
Arthur looked back at Merlin.
'I haven't- we never really- really talk… I mean, we- I don't-' His voice became strained. 'I wish I'd seen him. I can't believe that I…' He lapsed into silence. The others shifted uncomfortably.
'I wonder whether this means that he's now living Mágos' story, too,' said Gwaine.
'I don't know,' said Arthur miserably.
'In the meantime,' said Gwaine eventually, 'we should try to find a way out of here. There's only one entrance to the hall, so we have to find our way out through the tunnels. We'll need torches - two each and backups - to keep Merlin's shadow creatures at bay.'
'My torch went out when I stepped through the doorway,' said Arthur.
'So did ours,' said Gwaine, 'except for Merlin's. But if that happens when we enter the tunnels from here, we can just come straight back.'
'What about Merlin?' asked Elyan.
'We can try taking him with us, but it might take us a while to find the doorway. We'll probably need our hands free for the torches, and with a head injury I think it would be wiser to find the way out and come back for him.'
'I'm not leaving him here,' said Arthur abruptly.
'I wasn't suggesting that we all go,' replied Gwaine. 'One of us can stay.'
They looked at each other. Then, as one man, the three knights looked at Arthur.
'No,' said Arthur. 'Absolutely not. I won't let you all go into danger while I wait here for you to come back.' He stood up resolutely, and gasped as his head reeled and the hall around him swayed drunkenly.
'I'm fine,' he snapped as Percival steadied him.
'You don't look fine,' observed Gwaine.
'I'm your king, Gwaine.'
'Then you're my king who doesn't look fine,' came the reply. 'You look like you can't even stand up on your own.'
'This is your fault,' said Arthur and took a step forward, only to find that doing that made him feel nauseous. He promptly sat down again and glowered at Gwaine. 'You didn't have to hit me with a sword.'
'Actually, I did,' replied Gwaine easily. 'You wouldn't listen and kept trying to get at Merlin. And anyway, it was only the flat. You'll survive. So we're agreed, you stay here?' Arthur muttered something.
'One of us should stay with them,' said Elyan.
Arthur's head snapped up in disbelief, and he then clutched it at the rash motion.
'Elyan,' he bit out, 'I don't know what you think of me, but I'm not-'
'I don't mean that, Arthur. I mean that you're both injured.'
Arthur's expression softened and he nodded slowly. If he lost consciousness when Merlin needed him - it didn't bear thinking about.
'Good,' said Gwaine. 'Percy and I will go.'
'You at least need a plan,' said the king.
'We have a plan. Find the way out, come back and get you, and go.'
'Oh, get on with it then. And don't forget to mark the walls so that you know where you've been.'
Darkness had descended upon the hill, but still he ran. The golden tree that had stood atop it was just a memory now; no bright light shone out to illuminate the hill and the land around it any longer. No scent of wildflowers, no song of water filled the air.
'Stay,' whispered the darkness, 'stay.' It clutched at him, soft tendrils laying themselves gently on his flesh, his arms, his legs, his chest, his face, caressing, enticing. 'Stay.'
'No,' he whispered back, placing one foot in front of the other, forcing himself forward step by step.
'Stay.'
The grip on him tightened, became solid, pulled at him, but still he ran.
Then the darkness grew nails and he cried out in anguish as it dug into him, and each step he took forced its nails in further. Deep, deep into him the darkness clawed, tearing at his flesh and he felt the blood well up and overflow until his skin was slick with it and it stung in his eyes and stank in his nose. Then the dark's fangs gripped, and his muscles were severed and useless.
The grass had all gone. He lay in a barren landscape among rocks, and as he inched his way forward, fingers slowly contracting to pull himself forward, the grit and filth was forced into his wounds.
Finally his hand touched something.
It was a tree-root. But it felt dry. Like the landscape, there was no life flowing through it. It was dead. And even as he touched it, the tree turned to fine, dry, grey dust and poured down gently upon him, covering him, weighing down on him, filling his lungs with every breath until he fell into nothingness.
Elyan stood by the entrance to the tunnel and watched the torches recede into the distance. Then they turned a corner and were gone. He sighed and looked over to the other two further down the hall. Arthur was just sitting there, hands in his lap, shoulders slightly hunched over, his back to Elyan, probably staring at Merlin, and the knight felt a pang of sorrow in his heart for the two men as he realized what a struggle they now faced with each other. He wasn't sure whether they would come through it, and he knew that if they didn't, then it would change everything.
Of course Arthur would still be king, but until now he had been a king who had had his best friend by his side at all times. Both of them would be broken without each other and that would play out in all their relationships. Maybe even in the rule of the kingdom. Who would have thought that a servant could matter so much? But then, who would have thought that a commoner might become a knight? If Merlin mattered, it was in part because Arthur allowed him to. The question now was whether the two would continue to allow each other to matter.
Elyan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of whether to rejoin Arthur or to leave him be. If Merlin woke up - no, when he woke up - Arthur was going to have to make one of the most important decisions of his life, and Elyan was far from convinced that his presence would be helpful. Perhaps it would be best to wait here for a while and to see what happened, if anything. If Arthur wanted him, he could always call. Yes. That was probably best for now.
He looked back to the tunnel, but saw nothing but inky blackness out of which flowed a continuous whispering at the edges of his hearing. It was starting to grate on Elyan's nerves. He shuddered. He was not a coward, but a small part of him was grateful that it was Gwaine and Percival who were in the tunnels, and not him. Oh, he would have gone if-
'Bring me peace.'
Elyan froze as he heard the words which lurked at the edges of his dreams, tipping them into nightmares, and he recalled with absolute clarity the voice of a boy, pale, drowned, drowning. He stared into the darkness, breathing hard.
Nothing.
Still he watched, every nerve taught, straining to hear. The whispers continued, but he couldn't make the words out clearly. The whisperers still kept away from the light of the hall, and the darkness wasn't changing.
Or was it?
A patch of blue light in the tunnel. Elyan's eyes fixed upon it. Had it been there before? It was just coming from the hall, surely. But he couldn't remember seeing it before. Almost it seemed to grow-
A dark shape suddenly flitted across before him, and he barely stifled a yell.
'-come with me-'
Panic seized him, and his vision clouded. Without knowing what he was doing, he stepped forward.
Arthur watched Merlin. There wasn't anything else to do, and left on his own with his motionless companion, his mind began to wander down uncomfortable paths. In some sense, what he had done wasn't his fault. He hadn't been acting on his own feelings. They were the Dark King's. But that didn't change the fact that he was the one to feel them, and he wasn't at all sure that that distinction - his feelings, the Dark King's - had any real meaning. If he had acted on these feelings, which he had, then what difference did it make whether they were 'technically' his or someone else's? He had felt them, he had attacked Merlin, and that was something he was responsible for. If only he'd-
Suddenly the man in question gave a great, heaving gasp, a desperate, panicked drawing-in of air. Eyelids flickered, and then opened. Bleary eyes looked back at him, then widened in fear as realization struck and he shrank away, tried to crawl backwards, terror written plainly on his face as he found that his body wasn't responding properly and that Arthur was only a few steps away.
Arthur felt sick. He slowly raised his hands for a moment, palms forward, and sat back, trying to show his friend - the knights had been right - that he would not do anything to him, while Merlin scrabbled back against a wall and managed to get himself sat upright. He looked very small, hugging his knees, eyes looking over them to watch Arthur fearfully, his body tense and trembling. They sat like that for a while, neither speaking a word.
'I'm sorry,' Arthur finally said lamely. He didn't know what else to say to the man - friend - best friend - he'd been trying to kill, who'd given himself for his king's cause countless times and whom he had treated as little more than a dogsbody as long as they had known each other.
'I'm so sorry, Merlin. I'm- disgusted at what I did to you. I thought- I woke up, and I'd been dreaming and I thought you were a sorcerer and that you'd lied to me and betrayed me, and all I could think was how much I hated you. Not you. The man in my dream. The one who had betrayed me. Because I trusted him with all my heart and he- and I don't know why I thought you were him. Percival said it was the Dark King's influence but… It was still me. I did it. I- did those things to you. I'm- sorry, Merlin. Truly, truly sorry. I know you're not a sorcerer. I know you would never betray me, that you don't lie to me. You're loyal to a fault. That's why- why I can't believe what I-'
His voice trailed off. He couldn't look the other man in the eye as he spoke.
Merlin said nothing.
Merlin was bewildered and frightened and he couldn't control the tremors that ran up and down his spine - but his heart was already listening to Arthur, trying to find a way to forgive him, anything to restore his king to himself.
Until he said those words.
'I know you're not a sorcerer. I know that you don't lie to me.'
Merlin's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach as his mind supplied the unspoken answer.
'But I am a sorcerer. I've lied to you for as long as you've known me. Every single day has been packed with my lies.'
How often he had wanted to find a way to tell Arthur, but the moment had never been right, and he saw now that it never would be. He'd stupidly hoped that a day would come when he would tell Arthur everything, and Arthur would know him fully, and Arthur would accept him, and…
How long had it been since he had tried to save Uther with magic? A year? He'd been so full of hope that he could show Arthur just how far his loyalty went, that not all magic-users were bent on the destruction of Camelot, and then Morgana had made sure that it had all gone so, so wrong. What irony. And Arthur had hated him in that moment, even if Arthur himself didn't know it, and now he saw that the hatred had never gone.
It would almost have been easier if he'd awoken to find that Arthur's hatred really was his own, and that it was still there. At least then there'd have been no more need for pretence and it would all have been over. But now he knew beyond all doubt what awaited him if Arthur ever found out. The only thing he really wanted, and it would end in bitter failure. And there would be no knights to hold the king back. There would be no freedom for his like. No great destiny. There would only be fire, and the screams of those caught in it.
He swallowed painfully.
There would be no friendship, just smiles and quick wit to cover endless fear until the truth was revealed.
He closed his eyes.
'Let me take a look at you,' said Arthur next to him.
Merlin's eyes flashed open and he jerked away.
'Merlin,' said Arthur. 'I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. I don't think I can forgive myself-'
'Oh, you will, when you find out,' supplied the voice in Merlin's mind.
'-but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to try to look after you. At least while we're here.' You won't want to have anything to do with me once we're out. 'Move over here and let me look.'
It was easier to comply. He didn't want to talk anyway. And what did it matter what Arthur did? It was all for nothing now. Oh, he'd still do everything he could for Arthur, of course, but there was now a time limit. Arthur would find out and that would be the end of- everything. It was difficult to care, now.
He felt the bandages being unwrapped, and flinched as the final one pulled at the wound.
'Sorry.' Then cool fingers were carefully parting his hair. 'I'm going to have to wash this to see it properly. That alright?'
He nodded fractionally, heard Arthur unstop one of the water skins, and then water was trickling down the back of his scalp to be gently dabbed up.
'It's not too deep. It'll heal quite quickly. The- outside, anyway. How's your- your throat?'
He shrugged. 'Hurts,' he whispered.
Arthur stood up slowly and came around before him. Merlin noticed that he seemed to be struggling to keep his balance. Then Arthur knelt down, and reached behind Merlin's neck to untie the knot of his neckerchief. When he had finally managed it and removed the piece of cloth, his face crumpled and his eyes welled up.
He could see the dark imprint of his own fingers as bruises clearly around Merlin's neck.
'Merlin, I- I-' he whispered, not knowing what to do.
Merlin grabbed the neckerchief from Arthur's hands and looked away, tying it back around his neck and blinking back tears of his own. He wasn't sure why he was crying, whether it was because of what Arthur had done to him, or because they were both hurt by it, or because he'd lost hope, or because of something else. He waved a hand, as if to say, 'Go away,' and for once, the king did his servant's bidding.
'Where are the others?' Merlin croaked, trying to change the subject, and Arthur winced at the sound. His doing.
'They've gone to look for a way out,' he replied. 'Well, Gwaine and Percival. Elyan's still back there in the hall somewhere.'
'Into the tunnels?'
'Yes. There's no other way out of here.'
''s dangerous in the tunnels. The shadows…'
'They've got torches. I'm sure they'll be fine. Apparently the shadows don't like the light.'
'Stupid,' coughed Merlin, breathing hard. 'Too dangerous.'
'What actually happened in the tunnels? Percival told me what happened to him, but there was no time for the others to say much.'
'Why does it matter?' said Merlin tiredly.
'Because if we're to get out of here, then we need some sense of what we're up against.' And because I want you talk to me, even if things can't go back to how they were.
'Alright,' sighed Merlin, his throat aching. 'When I stepped through the doorway, I was- somewhere. I don't know where. Somewhere in the tunnels. And I heard them - the voices of the shadow men. They come from all around you and they try to tell you their stories. They fight amongst each other to get to you, and they- they get into you, somehow. It's horrible. You suddenly start seeing what they're telling you about, but because they're fighting you only get tiny glimpses and you don't know what's going on.'
'It sounds like what the Dark King does. He tells you his story and you live it and for a while you think you're him.'
'Yes. And sometimes only one of the shadows has you. At least, that's what happened to Percival, so he lived through everything.'
'How did you fight them off?'
'They- don't like light.'
'Oh yeah. Gwaine said your torch didn't go out. Lucky, that.'
'Yeah.'
'Otherwise you might all still- still be in the tunnels.'
'Yeah.'
'Though at least then I wouldn't have done- done what I-'
'Please, Arthur. Let's not talk about that. I'm not really ready to handle it. I don't hate you, though, okay? Just- I need time.'
Four little words, and they made all the difference. He had hardly dared hope.
'Okay. I understand.' He fell silent. Then a thought struck him. 'When Gwaine mentioned the shadows, he called them Merlin's shadow creatures. Why did he call them that?'
Merlin suddenly became wary, but he couldn't see a way past answering this one.
'Dunno. Perhaps because he couldn't see them.'
'Too dark?'
'No. Even when he had a torch he couldn't.'
'And the others?'
'No,' he said slowly. 'They couldn't, either.'
Arthur looked at Merlin curiously. Something had suddenly tugged at his memory. Something Percival had said, but he couldn't remember what it was. 'You really are quite unusual, aren't you.'
'Is that a compliment, sire?'
'If you think being called strange is a compliment then yes, it is.'
'They've been gone a long time,' said Merlin after a while.
'I'm sure they'll be back soon.'
'Why did they leave you here?'
'Someone had to look after you.'
'What, and you volunteered?'
'Not exactly. It's just that Gwaine had to knock me over the head, and I couldn't walk properly afterwards.'
'So they left me the guy with brain damage. Great.'
'You can talk. Besides, Elyan's here, too. In case something happened to both of us.'
'Elyan's - where?'
'Somewhere back there.' Arthur waved vaguely, then turned around.
'Elyan!' he yelled.
There was no reply.
'Elyan!'
Still nothing.
Two pairs of worried eyes met.
'I think we should go after them,' said the manservant.
'For once, Merlin, I actually agree with you. Can you stand?'
By way of answer, Merlin put his hands on the floor and lifted himself, shifting his legs as he did so and leaning on the wall for support. His knees shook when he was finally upright and he closed his eyes and swallowed.
'You look as bad as standing makes me feel,' said Arthur and slowly got up and came over. 'Lean on me.'
'What?'
'Lean on me. I'll help you.' It's the least I can do. So the two men made their way slowly towards the tunnel entrance, shuffling step by shuffling step, Merlin leaning on Arthur, who was doing all he could to remain upright himself. When they got to the spot, they stopped and stared.
'Well, this is a bit unusual,' said Merlin finally.
'I think Gwaine must have hit me harder than I thought.'
Where the tunnel had been, there was now a wall of crystal with no break to be seen in it. It was as if the entrance had never existed.
'What now?' asked Merlin.
'No idea. I have no idea.'
They stood in silence, both breathing heavily with the strain of standing, Merlin holding on tightly to Arthur's arm, not trusting himself to remain upright.
A whisper ran around the cavern. Merlin's head jerked up, but Arthur didn't seem to have heard anything.
And now Arthur remembered, and a dark thought entered his mind. 'You know,' he said as he stared at the wall, 'I've just realized something.'
Merlin bit back the obvious rejoinder. 'Oh?'
'Yes.' He fell silent as he studied the wall without really seeing it. Finally, he said, 'Percival did see the shadow creatures. Only he saw them in his vision.'
'I don't think I knew that.'
'No,' said Arthur. 'There probably wasn't time to discuss it in the tunnels.'
'Not really. We were trying to find Elyan and you.'
Arthur hummed in response, while Merlin threw him a nervous glance. He wasn't sure where this going, and it worried him.
'Did Percival tell you anything about his vision?' Arthur asked after another minute's silence.
'Not really. Arthur, what are you-'
'The man whose life he saw was a sorcerer and a physician, chased by my father's men. He came here for safety and the Dark King took him. He had a wife and child.'
Merlin stood quietly and stock-still as a gaping hole opened up beneath him and he felt his life pouring out of his body into it, and dread climbing up from the depths of the earth and slowly taking hold of him.
'Of course, it might just be coincidence. Perhaps it's just that some people can see the shadows and some can't.'
Merlin stood wordlessly, staring at the floor.
'Or perhaps it's something that's special to physicians.'
Rising fear.
'But that seems unlikely.'
Miserable wretch.
Scum.
Filth.
Traitor.
Each word a knife to the heart, twisted slowly.
Arthur prised Merlin's hand off his arm and stood back.
Here it came.
'Merlin, do you have magic?'
