Disclaimer: Still nothing *Loud sigh*
Alaia Skyhawk: Nicely put, *Grins* (Thank you)
Patiku: OOoohhh thank you for reviewing! *Claps* But anyways. Well, this is set after The Lady of the Lake in season 2, so, he had trouble with other things like this around that time, figured he wouldn't be able to unless he was really pushed. Guess we'll see!
Hannah Lynn McDonald: *Merlin hugs back, Arthur looks at you comically* *Samsquatch67 grins, deranged and evil, stalking her prey...*
Bubzchoc: Why thank you, :)
It was early morning, to where it was still dark. At least, that's what time, if he had to guess. The constant pain left Merlin in a state of confusion. He hung onto the very last piece of his scarf in his pale hand, lying down facing the bars, watching the path. The cage rocked like a ship at stormy sea.
The constant pressure of the cuff reminded him of what he'd lost - what he'd get back. It seemed like they had been traveling for days; he knew it had only been hours, but the way it felt was much more than that. That was when an echo started moving around from the group of wagons and cages, until the large man driving his yelled the same thing. "Whoa!" The horses were pulled to a stop, and Merlin warily looked up and over his shoulder.
"He won't be able to find us, we're stopping," Stated Ytaf.
Merlin grunted, and let his head drop back onto the solid ground. He uselessly flicked his eyes towards the lock on the door, non-verbally trying to open it with magic. Disappointment gathered in his eyes, despite knowing it wouldn't have worked anyway. Frustrated, he stared at the ground outside of the cell. He dropped the cloth, like a sliver of hope.
It fluttered in the air for several seconds, before climbing down through the soft breeze towards the ground, swaying back and forth, lowering, until it landed.
Suddenly the cage seemed to fly up into the air, tossing him from his comfortable-ish position to flailing wildly, momentarily lifting from the floor before he slammed down along with the cell-on-wheels. He gasped, going rigid in pain, and flinching as blood once more dripped onto his eyelid from the club-inflicted wound.
He realized, with a somewhat amused huff, that it had been caused by Ytaf getting off of the front of the cage. Mere seconds passed before several sausage-sized fingers grabbed his short hair, and yanked his head against the cold iron bars. "AAwwHhw-ow!" he yelped, his eyes watering as he tried to pull free from the grasp, failing. "Don't try anything." Merlin cringed, gasping more at the voice then anything else. He'd never heard something so... so... awful.
Forcing his eyes open to glare through the splitting pain, he met Ytaf's eyes, their faces mere inches from each others. Actually, he was almost sure his right cheekbone was brushing against the man's pillow sized cheek. He grimaced. "Wouldn't dream of it," he wheezed, and grinned. Ytaf let go of his hair, turning around to waddle off into the forest. "Nature calls," he ground out. Merlin could have sworn the ground trembled when he sauntered off.
...Arthur had ridden all night long, following the red-scarf trail. Finally, it had all paid off. He could hear the sounds of the wagons in the distance, and he heard the shouts of 'whoa' called out from the drivers. He'd caught up.
The prince dismounted, leaving his horse and Merlin's to graze. They would be able to catch them again when they needed to. Arthur walked forward, heading through the trees in the direction of the sounds of the wagons. It wasn't long before the sounds became louder; horses whinnied to each other, guards called to each other, and the sound of metal on metal... like that of chains, echoed through the trees from a small clearing ahead.
Arthur snuck through the trees, sword in hand. With the light of the moon, and the slowly coming light of the sun, Arthur had no need of the torch. So he'd put it out. The young prince moved quietly forward.
It was only a short time before he heard the sound of cracking twigs, sticks and dried leaves as someone approached. He hid, ducking behind a large group of bushes. He watched as a man came wandering toward him. The man; who was quite large, looked familiar. Arthur placed him as the jailer of the sorcerers... also, he the fat man who had been the feast when all this trouble started.
The man neared Arthur's position, and actually came right to the tree a mere yard away. Arthur sprang into action. He came up behind the man and bashed him on the head with the butt end of his sword, when the jailer was 'defenseless,' hoping to avoid a fight.
Something must have stopped the effectiveness of the blow, because the large man swung around and tried to club Arthur with a large, flubbery arm. Arthur ducked, and kicked the man's middle, sending him stumbling back a few feet. Arthur frowned as the man kept coming at him. The prince didn't want to kill him, but he couldn't afford letting the entire group know he was here.
As the large man charged, Arthur readied his sword. The man lunged at him, and he shifted the blade forward. The jailer groaned as he ran into it, and the blade disappeared up to the hilt. Arthur yanked it back out and shoved the man off of it. He tumbled backward and fell with an earth-shaking *THUD*.
Arthur turned and ran the back of a gloved hand over his face, then moved onward. Finally, he reached the edge of the clearing and scanned the wagons, looking for Merlin. He spotted him in one of the cages... a cage. He wondered why Merlin had not yet freed himself. They must have found a way to stop him, Arthur supposed.
He gritted his teeth and started planning the best course of action.
...Merlin listened to the commotion, and forced his body to cooperate, rolling over and getting onto his knees, hands gripping iron as he looked out. People hopped off of wagons, and he watched then digging out food and cooking materials. His mouth watered. When was the last time he'd eaten, anyway?
The young warlock rested his forehead against the bars. He hated cages. It reminded him of The Purge, it reminded him of Freya, and it reminded him of hate and death. He pulled his chained wrist to his chest, then ran his other hand over the head wound. When he pulled it back, dried, flaky specks of blood were stuck on his fingers, along with fresher, sticky crimson. He cringed.
...Arthur made his way around the sort of camp, being careful not to be seen by any of the people there. He realized he would need a key, and so went back to the jailer. He took the keys from his belt, and then came back to a hidden spot just outside the clearing.
He scouted the group. There were about nine men. He could take out nine... if he had to... hopefully. But he didn't want to have to. He hoped to sneak in and get Merlin without that much trouble. He decided he would go through the trees, as close to the cage as he could manage, then run to it, and stay by the side nearest the escape. He would unlock the cage, and take Merlin with him. They could make a break for the trees, and figure out what to do from there after getting back to the horses.
He walked carefully forward, keeping a wary eye on the guards. He was ready. It was now or never. The prince rushed forward, running across the dirt and skidding to a stop beside the wagon.
"Merlin..." he whispered, trying to quietly catch the attention of the young warlock.
"SHH!" Arthur scolded, holding a finger to his lips. He glanced around, ensuring that no one had noticed. Thankfully, no one had. He moved around to the side with the lock. He fumbled through the many keys, trying them all until he found one that fit the lock. He turned it and pulled the door open slowly and carefully, ensuring that it didn't squeak.
Merlin waited patiently as Arthur undid the lock, and sluggishly started opening the door. Merlin, cautious of the headache, stepped out of the cage, standing to his full height for the first time in hours. He winced. "Thank you," he breathed to Arthur, trying to keep his eyes open. He slumped heavily against the prince, apologizing all the while as he tried to regain his balance on his own.
Arthur was practically holding all of Merlin's weight, shushing him and looking around all the while. He switched his sword to one hand then wrapped one arm under Merlin's shoulders, supporting more of his friends weight. He started off toward the trees.
Merlin walked next to Arthur, grateful for the help. Of course, his relief didn't last long. He heard a shout coming from one of the men, and turned his head to look behind them in time to see several brandishing swords and taking off towards them. "Arthur-" Merlin warned quietly.
Arthur groaned, letting his hold on Merlin loosen, and leaning him against a tree. He gripped his sword and a look of determination crossed his face.
There were about four of nine men running at him, swords drawn. He was ready for them. The first one arrived, and Arthur dodged his strike, swept his leg out from under him and knocked him out with the back of his sword. The next man arrived quickly after him. They fought for a short time, mere seconds, and Arthur drove his sword into the man. He fell beside the other. Still more men came.
Arthur stayed in front of Merlin, figuring it was his turn to protect Merlin for a change... no flying tree branches... just an even fight were he actually defended his friend, not the other way around.
Merlin watched, hands twitching and his eyes darting between Arthur and the men he fought. He hated this - he hated his magic being trapped. It was inside of him, burning, trying to escape as it watched Arthur fighting. And he realized, that's what the burning was when he'd tried to use it to get the cuff to break. His magic, freezing and burning him at the same time as it failed to actually help, much less release.
Merlin was knocked down by a man that had somehow gone way around Arthur and the fighting group. He scrambled backwards, his back hitting the scratchy bark of a tree. He wanted his magic to react - he willed it to work. In frustration, he breathed in heavily. Frustration turned into something else as the man raised his sword, about to bring it down. Heart pounding, he yelled, "ARTHUR!"
Arthur turned, hearing the distressed call from Merlin. His attention was turned back as he blocked a sword blow. He looked back in time to see a man raising his sword above Merlin, poised to strike. Merlin would die... he must not be able to use his magic.
Without a second thought, Arthur lunged forward, jumping out of range of the three men he was in the middle of fighting, and heading toward the one. He yanked him back, just as he swung for Merlin. With an anamilistic cry, Arthur pulled the man's attention straight to him. Arthur stood before Merlin, gripping his sword in both hands, eyes locked on the man before him.
The man came at him. Arthur thrust his sword forward, impaling the man on the sharp metal, and pulling it free, letting him drop to the ground. He turned to Merlin, and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Are you all right?" he asked hurriedly as his eyes shifted between Merlin and more of the attackers.
"Y-yes, yes," Merlin stuttered, nodding. He hated the feeling of helplessness. Clacking his teeth together, he half crawled, half walked to the pile of corpses near Arthur's feet, yanking a dagger from one of their shoes and clinging to it for dear life as he moved back to his position.
Arthur went back into the fray, fighting the remaining five men off. Those five were all that remained of the nine at this point. He continued fighting, occasionally glancing back at Merlin to ensure that he was still okay, which he was... at least for now.
Merlin shook of his jittery-ness from what happened moments before, tightly gripping the dagger in one hand and snatching the keys from another dead body with the other. His magic may have been gone, for all intense and purpose, but he could still do something. Intending on freeing the other captives, he waited until Arthur killed another one of the men that looked intent on ripping out his throat, then started cautiously walking away, towards the wagons.
"Where..." Arthur started, interrupted as he slashed at another attacker, "Are..." again, same thing, "...you going?" he called after Merlin. He continued fighting, but wondered what his manservant was up to.
"The other captives," Merlin called back, but didn't turn around, only sped up until he was sort-of running. He didn't slow his pace, even as he lost his eyesight to head pain, because he was so close. And it didn't take to long before he was reaching out, feeling the bars of a cell. He unlocked it quickly, looking at the blurry version of a sorceress... Whoa. She had a beard. And long curly hair, and two... heads? He squeezed his blue eyes shut, shakily rubbing at them. "Thank you," whispered a gruff voice. The newly freed man took off towards the woods.
Merlin continued freeing them.
Arthur's eyes widened. "MERLIN! What are you doing?" he called as he ducked a blow from a man with a club. He had three left to fight, then this would be over. "They might..." duck, "Actually be criminals!"
"And they might me innocent!" Merlin replied, his voice cracking from lack of use. He opened another cage, and the second he did, his eyes bulged. A herd, yes - a herd - of magic users poured from the cell the moment it opened. They bolted straight forward, and he didn't have time to avoid them, only getting spun around several times as they ran into his shoulders. Finally they all passed him, and he shook his head, whispering a disoriented "Whoa" and trying to regain his bearings.
That was when a chubby, teenage witch came running full-speed out of the corner of the 'room', ramming against him and knocking him flat on his backside with a rather undignified and disbelief-filled Oomph.
Arthur took out the last man, and stared, as Merlin was overrun-trampled by a 'herd' of innocent sorcerers and sorceresses. "Still think they're innocent?" he asked as he walked over.
He looked down at Merlin, smiling a smile that was a bit condescending, and a lot amused. He raised his eyebrows and lowered his head, looking at Merlin through masked blue eyes. He would laugh, if Merlin didn't look so sick... after only a day missing.
"Unbelievable," Merlin whispered. "They're worse than you," he said, shaking his head. He used his hands to push himself up, which only ended in him hissing out several choice words, "We should go," he ground through clenched teeth. But after another attempt at standing, he slid into a lying position, "After I take... a short nap."
Arthur nodded and sat down beside Merlin. He patted his friend's shoulder. "You're right... for once. You do need to rest. I'll take watch, after I go find the horses."
