Title: Magic Words
Genre: Romance / History
Rating: T
Pairing: Merlin x Arthur
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: And they shall be among the people and they shall speak truths and whisper secrets. And thou shall know them by their craft… Thou shall not suffer a witch to live.
Word Count: 1,590
Warnings: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine. Summary from the Bible?
A/N: As someone obsessed with the Salem Witch Trials, this needed to happen.
Without Arthur by his side, the next few days (and the next month, he had been sure) was going to pass extremely slowly – especially since his memory was now joyfully reminding of the way Arthur tasted, the way the hard length of his body felt, the way he sounded when he was undone. It was almost enough to distract him from his terror and sorrow over Gaius' arrest.
But now he had his mentor's torture to deal with, and that was consuming so much of his time it was hard to think about anything else. It seemed every time he managed to sneak past the guards (usually achieved by spiking their drinks with a sedative with some quick sleight-of-hand), there were more injuries to tally up. One day another set of broken ribs. A few days later a tooth knocked loose. Without magic to heal him, Gaius was just another elderly man – and he wasn't taking well to such treatment.
"You have to stop sneaking in here, my boy, the guards are going to get suspicious." Gaius finished his statement with a hacking cough, bloody spittle flying from his mouth.
Merlin frowned, wordlessly handing him a flask of water through the bars, glaring at him until he drank several greedy gulps. Only then did Merlin glance away, letting him pass the flask to the others who were watching with wide, dry eyes. "I'll be fine, Gaius. It's you I'm worried about."
When he glanced around the cells again, his heart clenched and his stomach dropped. The people here were failing, some had been here for months, women had been pregnant when imprisoned had given birth in here, men had died in here in these conditions. It was dark and dark and mildew-filled. The dim light was a blessing that hid the quality of the dirty walls and floors from prisoner's eyes, but Merlin could see those things just fine. He could see the roaches scurrying in the open spaces, the rats lurking in the cracks in the walls. He could see mushrooms growing sparsely from moist seams. He could see broken arms and noses, bruises and cuts, shorn hair. He could count the ribs underneath their clothing, could see their lips crack and bleed, hear their stomachs rumble. He could see in their eyes that they thought they would die here.
"Six more people were condemned to death, Gaius." His voice was filled with despair. "Everything is getting worse. And Arthur – " his breath hitched at the name, "if Arthur doesn't make it back soon, I don't think anything will stop this madness."
His mentor reached through the bar and grasped Merlin's hands, his weathered hands thin – just tendon and bone covered in skin – but still steady, his grip still strong despite his hardship. "You must believe, Merlin. Believe in Arthur and in yourself." He gestured around at the dead-eyed inhabitants of the jail. "That is the only way you will help us."
Merlin glanced around, only pausing when he noticed one man was staring steadily back at him. He looked resolute and defiant, rather than lost and broken. Merlin felt his head cock to the side as he tried to place him. "You're John Aldan."
The dark-haired man nodded, his hazel eyes composed and intelligent. "Yes, one of the recently condemned." Merlin's eyes must have betrayed his feelings, because Aldan waved a hand dismissively. "No, no, no, boy, none of that. It will all work out, I'm sure." He was staring at Merlin in a way that made the young man want to fidget uncomfortably. "I'm fairly sure it will."
"Hey, you there! How did you get in here?!"
Merlin's head snapped around at the shout, meeting the sleep tousled countenance of one of the guards he'd slipped by earlier. "I – uh – "
"Come on, you!"
The guard grabbed his arm roughly and was hauling him to his feet when he felt himself yanked in the other direction so swiftly he fell into the bars. The guard made a muffled oath behind him, but Merlin was too focused on the face of John Aldan, now pressed close enough that there were breathing the same air, his eyes lit with emotion.
"Listen, boy," he hissed, too low for anyone but Merlin himself to hear. "I know what you are." When Merlin would have let the guard's movements pull him backwards, Aldan yanked him forward, grip viselike and firm. "I know, and I need you to get me out of here. I can help them all."
When Aldan released Merlin's hand, the force of the guard's own tugging sent him reeling backwards. But he hardly noticed. Just like he hardly noticed the guard gripping his arm and dragging him from the prison. He was too focused on how John Aldan was watching him intently, eyes never straying, never blinking, as he left.
Two weeks later and Merlin was frantic with worry. Arthur still hadn't returned from Boston, and it was only one day until the hangings of the six condemned inmates. He still hadn't managed to find a way to help Aldan escape without drawing attention to those already arrested or himself.
With an irritated scream he allowed a small tendril of power to unfurl, shattering his glass of water. The momentary feeling of triumph soon made way for remorse at his actions. Though his was safely ensconced in his house, it was a terrible habit to acquire. Cleaning up the mess and glumly sitting back on his heels, Merlin stared with unseeing eyes at his counter. There had to be a way to help Aldan without anyone noticing.
A sigh. If only Arthur were here, he'd be able to get Aldan out, Merlin was sure, without resorting to anything untoward or illegal.
Suddenly, blue eyes brightened with an idea. It'd be dangerous, and would require a very precise level of timing that Merlin was sure wouldn't be easy to accomplish at a crowded town hanging, but as of right now, it was the only option he had.
Gallows Hill was filled with people, as Merlin knew it would be. Six people were going to be hanged, and there were people from Salem's sister-villages in attendance to watch the spectacle. People had brought their entire families with them to watch, even their children. It was disgusting. Merlin was watching the gathering from a copse of nearby trees, hidden in the foliage, eyes alert and focused. He hadn't had time to actually speak to Aldan, to tell him of his plan. He'd barely had time to catch his eye for a moment as they were moving the condemned into the wagon that would transport them to the execution site, nodding once. He hoped Aldan understood.
It was almost sunset now, the Reverend and judges seem to like the symbolism of hanging people in the twilight air – the hot August days now were thick and heavy at dusk, the wind like an oppressive blanket as it swirled through the crowd. People were slick with sweat, but whether from heat or fear it was hard to tell.
When the guilty were shoved off the wagon, hands tied with rope in front of him, eyes tear-filled and doomed, Merlin felt his heart break. It would be too much to save them all, too noticeable, too obvious. He wanted to make Aldan's escape seem like an accident. But six accused witched escaping at death's door was bound to be seen as the work of the Devil. And Merlin couldn't risk the wrath of the judges coming down on the dozens and dozens of other innocent people still stuck, scared and miserable, in their cells.
He watched avidly as they were lined up on the gallows, as the nooses were placed over their necks and tightened, as the hangman walked sedately back to this place to the side of them. He wasn't watching the crowd to see their reactions. He wasn't watching the condemned to see their fears. He wasn't watching anything but the hangman's hand as it reached for the lever –
- as soon as it was pulled, and six pairs of legs vanished under the prisoners, Merlin let loose an arrow of energy. Six people fell. Only five met sudden stops – John Aldan's rope broke with a snap as his weight yanked down on it. He hit the ground, hands coming miraculously untied as he rolled out the back of the gallows. The crowd, executioner, and judges were all so focused on his comrades, they didn't notice for several long moments.
In those moments Aldan stood, disoriented and unsteady, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. When he didn't move fast enough, Merlin cracked a ribbon of power across his backside. With a jerk he realized where he was, and, as the shout of the villagers suddenly noticing his absence followed him, he bolted off in the opposite direction.
Merlin sighed, leaning back on his haunches, slack with relief.
"Hey mister, what are you – " A small hand grabbed his elbow and he spun around in shock. The little girl who'd found him glanced up. And before he even had time to remember that his eyes were still lit with magic and shining like sunflowers, she met his eyes -
- and started to scream.