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Caldera has done an excellent job with her editing, I hope you like the chapter. Now finally, we catch up to day 10 - Please let me know what you think.


Chapter 7 Breaking Point

Day 10

Arthur was worried; Merlin's behaviour had been very erratic over the last couple of days. He knew the servant was under pressure with Gaius being away and had tried to turn a blind eye to some of the outbursts, but he couldn't let it continue - there had been complaints.

All the courtiers had received their various tinctures and ointments, the medications being up to the same quality as usual and even tasting better in some instances - it was the manner of delivery and administration that had caused objections. The words "rude and insubordinate" had been used, among others, and much as he hated to do it, Arthur would have to reprimand the servant. At least it would give him an opportunity to get to the bottom of the problem - because there was definitely a problem.

If the king did not know better, he'd have thought Merlin was avoiding him. Arthur had scarcely seen his servant and Merlin was proving to be a difficult man to track down. He'd been uncharacteristically efficient and exceptionally busy - all the servants had. Then there were physician's duties to perform as well as his usual chores.

The royal just had to get through this meeting first, then he could speak to Merlin. There was no escape; the servant had been forced to attend.

Lord Kane had claimed he felt like he was being followed and that someone had disturbed his chambers but the knights had found no evidence of that or anything magical. In fact, the stone had done nothing for over a week; it could have been a lump of coal for all the activity it had shown. Arthur silently cursed; for all his determination to find the sorcerer he was at his wit's end and had had enough. Even during the course of the meeting his enthusiasm had waned. The king looked about the room. With the exception of Kane, all appeared jaded - Merlin looked terrible. Arthur struggled to keep his mind focused. It was ridiculous; the rock was not worth this disruption. Lord Kane's presence had caused nothing but unrest and distress.

The noble had promised that the 'Veritas Saxum' would transform the castle; well, it had certainly done that. Arthur studied the hunk of polished black stone in pride of place on the round table. It was no bigger than a man's fist and it was hard to reconcile this unassuming object with the power it held. The king was ashamed to admit he had been seduced when he'd heard of its heritage. Tomorrow he would tell the noble he could take the dark crystal with him when he went - and in Arthur's opinion, he couldn't go soon enough.

Arthur's thoughts bounced back and forth as the meeting droned on. A loud snort and suppressed giggles made the royal's head spin around. He spied his servant covering his mouth with one hand, looking clammy and swaying slightly. Arthur was livid; he could not believe it. No, Merlin. Not here; not now.

Everyone had different ways of coping with pressure and Merlin was known to spend time in the tavern. The king was sure he'd smelt a faint whiff of alcohol on his servant's breath a few days ago after Merlin disappeared for the afternoon with Gwaine, but surely he wouldn't turn up for work drunk and embarrass his king? Arthur may not particularly care for the lord, but he certainly did not want a servant's lack of protocol to disgrace the kingdom.

Arthur glared at Merlin. Anger flared as hot and explosive as lava, completely obliterating all previous concerns the monarch may have had for his friend. The meeting must end immediately; there could be no more incidents. He would certainly have words with Merlin now - even if the man looked like he was about to keel over.

Arthur's agitation mounted as he watched his servant's gaze flit around the room at everything except his king. Finally, Merlin's eyes locked with his. Arthur let his displeasure be known by drawing two figures across his throat - a clear message that Merlin was in trouble and should pull himself together.

The dark-haired man had stared wide-eyed for a moment, frozen in time. Then he bolted.

Merlin tore through the council chambers and flung open the door. His footfalls echoed through an empty corridor then faded to nothing, leaving a stunned and silent room.

Arthur was held immobile by two opposing forces: instinct and duty. He was torn between chasing after Merlin and staying still - what king would run after a lowly servant?

He did not hear the sounds of a second pair of feet swiftly leaving the room or the murmur of subdued chatter. He'd half-hoped Merlin would be heard retching outside, confirming his suspicions about excess alcohol, but the look his servant had given him said otherwise. It was not the face of someone inebriated; it was full of terror and desperation - the same expression he'd seen on the battlefield countless times before striking an enemy down. He'd never expected to see it on the face of his friend.

Arthur stared blindly at the black rock and tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He was numb, as if doused in ice water. He barely noticed a scrape of a chair and rustle of fabric as his queen stood and addressed the room.

Guinevere's hand slipped into his. Arthur was surprised to find the council chambers empty and the black stone gone, his keen eyes having failed to register everyone's departure.

"Gwaine's gone after him," she said quietly.

Arthur pushed back his chair and started to rise. "I should go -"

"No." The queen placed her other hand on his chest, preventing the king from standing. "You're exhausted; Gwaine will find him. I've rescheduled the rest of the meeting for tomorrow - whatever it is Lord Kane wishes to discuss can wait until then."

Arthur nodded, but remained silent. He got up slowly, hand still encased in his wife's. The king vowed he would restore order to his kingdom – this chaos had gone on long enough. Lord Kane would leave and everything would go back to how it was before.


There was no sign of Merlin. Gwaine had run after him almost immediately but the servant had vanished. The knight repeatedly searched the castle - nothing. Eventually a guard had told him, somewhat pompously, that Merlin had been sighted heading for the forest approximately half an hour ago. The knight cursed, regretting ever convincing the guards they must let the king's servant pass.

Gwaine reached the edge of the trees and realised it was now dark and he could not see to pick up a trail. As he wondered if things could get any worse, he saw a flash of lightning and heard a rumble of thunder in the distance.

The knight yelled Merlin's name again and again but there was no reply. I knew something was wrong. I should stopped him, should have acted sooner. Gwaine turned and started sprinting towards the castle. He would get a torch and find his friend - he just hoped he wasn't too late.


Merlin was running, as swift and hard as prey pursued. He was blind to the path he followed; all that mattered was that his feet took him away from the castle. Through bushes and over uneven terrain he went until once again he hit the water's edge. The warlock collapsed against a tree; his breaths heavy, heart pounding, and vision blurring in and out of focus. Merlin reached into his pocket and searched for the key.

It wasn't there.

Frantically he turned out his pockets, slapped at his sides, and scoured the ground; over and over. I must have missed it. It has to be safe; I'll find it... only he didn't.

The little shiny key - his salvation - was lost.

"NO!"

He beat his fists into the earth. Tears of frustration rolling down his face. "No, no, no!"

He clawed at the band, burned his fingers trying to pull it over his wrist. Even with his slender joints the cuff refused to pass over the bones. Desperate, the warlock hunted for a rock and, steadying his arm in the dirt, brought it down on the band. The clang failed to drown out his scream when the cuff did not yield. All he achieved was a deep cut and grazes to his own flesh.

Merlin let out a hysterical cry at the irony of it all; he'd put the manacle on to protect himself from a rock, then tried and failed to use one to open it. He'd been a fool to think the mundane would work on such a powerful object. He'd been a fool to think he could overcome it.

Saltwater stung his eyes as he pounded his legs and pulled at his hair. His magic built up, pushing against his skin and trying to get out by any means possible. The warlock gave in.

"Áhreddan bealucræft, áhreddan bealucræft!"

Searing pain assaulted him as his gift tried to obey. He let out an agonised scream, but instead of golden light, blood poured out of his eyes, ears, lips and nose. The cut on his arm gushed, but the host felt nothing aside from the initial torment as his magic finally forced itself free.

Merlin was unconscious before he hit the ground. The warlock remained motionless as the red river formed a warm, sticky puddle under his head. The earth, air, and water were still; as if nature itself paid tribute to the broken man. Then the silence gave way to a flash of lighting and a rumble of thunder.


TBC...

Well, was that what you expected?

Áhreddan bealucræft, free magic