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Merlin stared in horror at the pile of rubble in front of him. Without thinking what he was doing, he had leapt to his feet, hands scrabbling at the rocks, desperately trying to shift them.
"Arthur! Arthur! Seb? Adrian? Anyone?" Whether the rocks were muffling his voice, or even the replies, Merlin had no idea. But his heart was pounding hard as silence continued to lurk eerily. The only thing Merlin could hear was the small clatter of a few pebbles rolling down the rock pile as the dust finally began to settle. He forced himself to think rationally. No one had been near the entrance when the rocks had come down. But whatever had happened had had enough force to blast him backwards and start the rock slide in the first place, who knew what those closer would be like?
Despite being determined to think rationally, Merlin still physically tried to shift the rocks. No matter who the Dreafela had gone into then, the rest of the group were still stuck in there. Merlin knew Adrian had a point, he was the only one who had the slightest chance of getting close to the thing. But Merlin was worried. He could still feel the Dreafela's magic in the air, and it was beyond anything he had ever experienced. Not only was it strong, it was different. It was dark and suffocating, and rather than automatically trying to react to the magical presence, Merlin found his own magic was almost trying to shied away, as if knowing the danger that was potentially awaiting it.
But Merlin had another problem. What if the thing had entered Arthur? Could he really bring himself to fight against his friend? Could he, if it came to it, destroy Arthur to save them all? Shaking his head furiously, Merlin didn't let himself think about it. At the end of the day, he would do what he always did when it came to the prince. He would protect the Future King, no matter what course of action that forced him to take.
Balanced halfway up the rock pile, Merlin stared at the stone in dismay for a moment, feeling the sting in a finger where he had grazed it trying to pull one free.
"You idiot," he muttered to himself, climbing back down again and backing away. The time for being careful was over, he had no choice. Merlin waited until he thought that he was at least a safe distance down the corridor before letting his magic rise to the surface again. He was too desperate to think of a spell, and instead just let his eyes flash. But rather than simply blasting the rocks away, Merlin made sure that he dragged them down the corridor. He had no idea whether the men the other side were still in the positions he had last seen them. The last thing he wanted was for them to be trying to clear it from the other side and Merlin to blast the rocks their way.
Once again, he was forced to wait until the dust had cleared and his eyes stopped streaming before he could take a tentative step forward. With a thudding heart and blood ringing in his ears, Merlin almost crept down the corridor, forcing his magic to listen to him rather than letting it react instinctively like he so often did. Were all the warnings about this creature true? He had been hoping that his magic would just know what to do! When it came to saving Arthur, Merlin had found himself doing things he didn't even know were possibly for even him as it fought to protect both destiny and Albion. But this time, Merlin had a horrible feeling that he was going to have to fight it himself.
There was a deadly silence in the chamber where Arthur had been held. Merlin silently stepped in, eyes darting everywhere. No one was moving. Adrian had been flung against the opposite wall and now remained a crumpled heap on the floor, a small trickle of crimson blood running down his forehead. Without thinking about it, Merlin ran over. Ignoring the way his hand was shaking slightly, the warlock pressed it against the Druid's neck, a rush of relief flooding through him at feeling the pulse. At least someone was alive. Remaining crouched next to Adrian, Merlin let his eyes survey the rest of the scene.
Sebastian was still tied to the altar, but he too was out cold. Whatever the force had been that had blasted Merlin back had left no one standing. Repeating his check that the man was still alive, Merlin found himself in the middle of the room. Part of him didn't want to turn around, didn't have to acknowledge what it was that he was about to face.
Finally, though, the warlock managed it. He even shut his eyes as he completed the turn, terrified at what he was about to see. A strange rush of relief shot through him at still seeing Arthur chained to the wall, hanging limply. He too was unconscious, his wrists taking his entire weight, his head sagging forward. For a moment, Merlin was confused. Why was he glad to see his best friend in a position like that? But then the reality snapped back into place. If the Dreafela had entered Arthur, he would not still be chained. Merlin made to step forward when he realised what was missing. He couldn't see Horath anywhere!
Merlin froze, spinning slowly on the spot as he searched the room. When he could still not see the creature, he ran forward, almost crashing into the wall next to Arthur. A quick check of his pulse showed that he too was alive, but it was weak and erratic, racing far too fast under Merlin's hand for the warlock to be happy. Taking in a deep breath, Merlin carefully moved around Arthur, lifting his shift in order to look at the prince's back.
He gasped, stepping away in horror. The wounds from the whip hadn't bled, it wasn't that type of whip. But angry marks were splashed across his back, pulsing with dark magic. Merlin knew he would be able to help, but not here. He had to get Arthur out, and if Horath had decided to vanish, maybe now was his only chance? He turned his attention to the manacles holding Arthur, and cursed under his breath. How had he kept it together throughout this? Arthur would have automatically sought out a weakness in the cuff, searching for something that would grant him a way to escape. Realising that there was not even a join in the shackles must have been a low blow indeed.
Merlin had just lifted his hand to Arthur's right wrist, intending to break the chains away when a noise caught his ear. He spun, hand still hovering over Arthur's and stared about him.
"Horath?" His voice was low and cautious, and Merlin was partly wondering why he was calling out at all. Shouldn't he be grabbing Arthur and running for it whilst they were still alive? But Merlin knew he could never do that. He couldn't leave Sebastian and Adrian unconscious when the Dreafela was still around. Arthur was possibly the safest – he didn't have magic so was of no desire to the Dreafela apart from his body. But Merlin was sure that if the creature was given the choice between magic or a body, there would be no doubt as to who would be in more danger.
Another small rattling came from the other direction, and Merlin's head span so fast his neck cricked. He backed up, and felt something behind him. Turning violently, Merlin almost stumbled over his own feet as he tried to search for the reasoning behind the noise, but he could see nothing.
"Time to get you out of here, Sire." Merlin closed his fist around the shackles and forced his magic to the surface. With a resounding crack, Arthur's hands fell free and the warlock was nearly flattened as the unconscious man fell forward. Catching him around the chest, Merlin started dragging Arthur towards the door, suddenly glad he was unconscious. If Arthur had been awake for this, his back would have been sheer agony. As he shifted Arthur's position, Merlin winced when he caught sight of the new wounds on the prince. Angry burn marks were around his wrists, and Merlin felt a rush of guilt as he realised he was the one who had put them there. The manacles had been magic; they were making sure that a mark was left.
Pushing aside the tears stinging his eyes at the treatment Arthur had been subjected too, Merlin forced himself to think about getting the man out of there. If he could get Arthur to safety, even as far as the forest, he could come back for the other two and...
And what? Merlin knew he was trying to force himself to think positively, and that was making him lose his grip on reality. Horath was still around. Even if Merlin did manage to escape with Arthur, he had two people unconscious with magic already here. A compensation if nothing else for not getting the magic he wanted, but Merlin knew the thing would not refuse it. If Merlin left them there, they would be as good as dead. Could he have that on his conscience, knowing that he could have tried to at least save them? But did he dare risk Arthur?
Groaning at the fact that he now seemed to have to make decisions that could potentially cost three lives, Merlin didn't see where he was going until his foot caught on something. Stumbling backwards, he slipped over, pulling Arthur down with him as he stared at what he had tripped on. Greg was lying on the floor in front of them, eyes wide open and lifeless. Merlin had seen bodies before – following Arthur everywhere had seen to that – but for it to be someone he knew, even if he had hated the man? And to know what had done it, and that the thing had wanted to do that to Arthur before ripping Merlin apart? That made up the warlock's mind.
He crawled the last part, tugging Arthur along after him and pushed the man out in the corridor. Scrambling to his feet, he ran to the altar, a flash of his eyes making the straps around Sebastian snap. The noble was pulled from the altar, his dead weight causing Merlin to almost drop him before the servant managed to drag him out to join Arthur. Now all he needed was to get to Adrian...
Sprinting across the room, Merlin dropped to his knees beside the man, not liking the way the wound on his head still seemed to be bleeding. But there was no time for that now, and he hoisted one of the Druid's arms over his shoulder. Gasping under the weight, Merlin began to drag the last man towards the archway that was now serving as a door since the real thing had been destroyed by the rock fall.
But after taking a few steps, something caught his eye. Lounging in the corner, arms folded casually across his chest and eyebrows raised in amusement, was Horath. In one glance, Merlin knew he was finally face to face with the Dreafela as the man's eyes flashed black. He didn't even have time to bring his own magic to the surface before he was suddenly blasted off his feet, Adrian thrown away from him.
A barked spell later, and Merlin was standing, throwing forward a force of his own to combat the Dreafela's magic. He knew the thing was strong, and all the stories told him that you couldn't fight the thing with magic. But Merlin had refused to believe the tales, had to hold onto hope that there was some way he could at least fight it. He had to believe there was, for it was the only way he could see at being able to save Arthur.
And yet, for as much as he had wanted to hope, Merlin knew in a split second that it was hopeless. The Dreafela laughed cruelly, his head arching back in pleasure as the spell just seemed to sizzle out of existence, not even touching him. Merlin staggered with a gasp, feeling a sudden drain on him that he had never felt before. Trying to not let it faze him, he shot another spell at the creature. He used no words this time, but just let the full force of his magic blast forward, determined to protect its destiny once again.
This time, the Dreafela did stagger back a pace, that spell too fading away. But it was clear it had had some impact, and Merlin felt a small grin on his face. He had a chance. His victory, however, was short lived. As Horath's eyes pulsed with darkness, Merlin staggered, feeling another drain on him. It was only then that he realised what was happening. The magic he had shot at the Dreafela was now being sucked from him. He knew that most sorcerers couldn't use their power without being tired by it, but he had always been different.
Until now. He had thrown the sheer force of his magic at the creature the second time around, so the third spell barely even reached it halfway before the Dreafela absorbed that too and Merlin fell to his knees, his head spinning. Not that the warlock was going to let that stop him, however, and Merlin knew he had to keep trying. Reaching deep down inside of him, he tugged on the core essence of his magic, his eyes turning gold as yet another force ripped from him.
This time, the Dreafela was thrown backwards, Horath hitting the wall and sliding down with a hiss of anger. Merlin knew he had to get out, that he didn't have the energy for another spell with whatever it was that the thing was doing to him. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling towards Adrian when something crashed into his back.
Nothing was there but a sheer magical force, driving Merlin to the ground even as he tried fighting back against it. For a moment, the world seemed to go white and Merlin suddenly realised just how it was that Greg had been able to keep Arthur under control for all of this time. One spell and it was as if the victim barely even existed. Despite knowing he was still conscious and still alive, Merlin couldn't react in the slightest. He couldn't even feel his magic, let alone use it.
The next thing he did feel was something tight and hard over his arms, pinning him down. As the same feeling appeared on his legs and around his waist, reality caught back up with the warlock and he yelled in horror. Horath had moved him, now having him tied down on the altar with the now mended straps and was standing over him in satisfaction.
Merlin lashed out physically, but the thick leather straps did their job well and he could barely move in the slightest. He tried throwing a spell out, but could almost watch the Dreafela absorb it since they were so close and immediately felt the drain on him.
"Now I have won." The thing whispered softly, reaching down and caressing Merlin's cheek. The warlock shouted in pain, every touch making it feel like his skin was on fire as his magic struggled to repel the thing that was draining its life force. The Dreafela laughed.
"So powerful. So much power for one so young." He backed away, one hand stretched out towards the struggling warlock. He didn't say anything, but his eye pulsed darkly and Merlin felt his skin tear. Blood flowed from a deep cut in his arm, and it was as if his magic was leaking out through the wound, into the air and then being absorbed by the Dreafela.
"N...no, no!" Merlin thrashed slightly, doing all he could both physically and magically, but he could no longer get control over his magic. The Dreafela let his eyes flash again, and another cut appeared, then another.
Eventually, Merlin could take it no more, and screamed, hot tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes at the agony.
MMM
Arthur could hear a scream ringing in his ears as his eyes slowly opened with a muffled groan. Every inch of him hurt, but Arthur couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He was still him, but where had Greg gone? Or the Dreafela, Arthur wasn't sure which any more. Slowly sitting up, the prince blinked. Since when had he been sitting down? He was sure that he had still be chained to the wall when the transfer had taken place, but there was no way he was there now. He wasn't even in the same room!
Glancing over to the side, Arthur started in surprise to see Sebastian sprawled next to him, the man only just beginning to stir. Arthur frowned. How did he feel about the noble? The man had betrayed him, he had pretended to be a Knight whilst hiding that he had magic the whole time. Every second he had been in Camelot, he had been committing treason. And yet... Arthur couldn't deny the man's actions. He had been trying to save the prince's life. He still didn't know how he was feeling even as Sebastian's eyes flickered open, but despite himself, Arthur found himself smiling reassuringly.
"Sire!" Sebastian scrambled upright, looking about him in alarm. The reaction showed he hadn't quite expected to have to deal with Arthur. It was clear he hadn't expected to get out of it alive, and considering the last time he had seen the man, he had been strapped down on an altar, Arthur had to admit the chances had seemed pretty slim. But if Sebastian hadn't been the one to get them out, then who was? Arthur had struggled against the manacles for long enough to know that normal means wouldn't have got him out.
"Adrian!" Sebastian's yell made Arthur jump, but also made him wonder whether he had perhaps found the answer to his questions. Before they could wait for an answer, another scream sounded, echoing off the rock and intensifying as it did so.
"Merlin." Arthur muttered, jumping to his feet. He should have known that his servant would have turned up, but judging by the sound of that, the Dreafela was finally getting what it was that he had been after for so long.
"Sire, wait..!" Sebastian's call was no good. Arthur had already run straight back into the chamber, eyes widening in horror at the sight in front of him. Merlin was tied down, blood almost running off the altar. But the servant was still struggling weakly, and he turned his head at hearing Arthur come in, tears running down his face.
"A...Art...Arthur.." he gasped, looking somewhat horrified at seeing the prince there. Arthur attempted to smirk.
"Good to see you too," he said flippantly, drawing the Dreafela's attention away from his injured manservant. Arthur glanced about, and saw that Sebastian's sword was resting on the floor not far from where Arthur was now. He threw himself forward, dropping into a roll and snatching up the weapon. He hissed in pain as he felt his back ripple, but straightened up, the sword in his hand.
Horath glanced towards him, amused. Arthur had been so weak when on his own. Give him something to protect, and the warrior in the prince surfaced once more. With one spell, the sword was torn from Arthur's grasp and something wrapped around his throat, lifting him clean off his feet.
"N..no..." A weak whisper came from Merlin, and Arthur knew his friend was getting extremely close to passing out. Whether it was just through blood loss, or something else, he wasn't sure. A noise at the doorway revealed Sebastian stumbling through, eyes widening in horror when he saw Merlin. He all but seemed to ignore the prince gasping for air, instead weaving unpleasantly over to the warlock and crashing down next to the altar, fingers fumbling on the straps.
Realising that neither of them were in a position to help him, Arthur awkwardly brought his leg up, grasping. Sebastian hadn't noticed his dagger being stolen from him out in the corridor, too distracted by what he was supposed to say to the prince he had betrayed. But Arthur had let it slide from the man's belt, concealing it in his boot. He wasn't even sure why, maybe he just didn't like the idea of the Knight being armed when he was not considering Sebastian had magic at his disposal. It had been Arthur's way of trying to regain some control over the situation.
Black spots were dancing in front of his vision, lungs screaming for air as Arthur finally managed to grasp the dagger. He pulled it free and threw it with uncanny precision at Horath, striking the man square in the chest. The spell dropped immediately, sending Arthur crashing down to the ground, gasping for breath. Horath looked down with a gasp, the black fading from his eyes as he took in the sickening sight of a dagger coming out of his own chest.
But even as the man crumpled, a mocking laugh filled the room as a swirling black mist rose from the body. Arthur watched it for a moment before realising that it was heading directly towards him. Sucking in a panicked breath, he lurched backwards, not even having time to get back to his feet as he tried to avoid the mist coming directly at him. He had just given the Dreafela exactly what he wanted.
"Arthur!" The shout came from an unknown voice, and Arthur knew that Adrian had regained consciousness. Just in time for the Druid to watch the prince die. Arthur couldn't help but see the irony in the situation.
His back hit the wall and Arthur knew that was it, there was no more escape...
"Merlin, c'mon!" Sebastian whispered, glancing down at the almost hyperventilating and injured warlock he was trying to free. "It's about to take Arthur, you have to do something..."
"Too st'ng..." The mutter was so weak that Sebastian wasn't even sure he had heard it to start with, but Adrian was suddenly by their side. He pulled out his own concealed dagger and cut through one of the straps holding Merlin down.
"There is another part of the story. He's not as strong when he doesn't take a form. Merlin, hurry! You have seconds before Arthur is gone! Do something!"
Merlin weakly lifted his head, and saw the spirit of the Dreafela advancing on the prince. He could barely even feel his magic any more, he wasn't sure if there was any left. But this was his destiny. This was his friend.
Feebly lifting one hand, he chanted something under his breath, his voice growing dark and dangerous as gold flooded back into his eyes. Using the magic was agony, it desperately trying to escape through the wounds now littering his torso compared to being released through the spell. Eventually though, Merlin managed to force it to focus for long enough to let the spell fly.
He didn't even see if it worked, unconsciousness claiming him and dragging him under.
Arthur, as per usual, had no idea of the rushed conversation that had just taken place across the room from him. In fairness to the prince, he had been a little more than distracted this time at the rapidly approaching magical being that intended to possess him and force him to do who knows what, most likely to his own servant.
But even as Arthur glanced frantically around for another escape route, the mist swirled, almost touching him. Arthur cried out and flinched, feeling the darkness and coldness of the being momentarily brush along his consciousness. Trying to brace himself, Arthur gasped as the feeling disappeared just as suddenly as it had come. Opening his eyes – he didn't even remember screwing them up – Arthur let out a shaky breath. The mist was nowhere to be seen.
Somehow, although he knew it would mean momentarily accepting the idea that magic had been used for something good, Arthur knew it was gone for good. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the temperature in the room seemed to lift by a few degrees as he shakily pulled himself to his feet.
"Merlin? Merlin!" Hearing the worried call, Arthur glanced over towards the altar. Sebastian was bent over Merlin's prone form, clearly trying to rouse the boy. But Adrian was looking directly at Arthur, almost as if daring him to try something. The unwavering precision of the gaze made Arthur swallow slightly. It was almost as if it was an admittance, Adrian telling Arthur he was the one to save his life.
Little did Arthur know that was precisely what Adrian was doing. The longer the prince looked into the Druid's eyes, the more he would come to believe that he was the one to use the magic. There was no way Adrian was about to let Arthur find out about the secret protector that had been looking after him for so long. Arthur wasn't ready for the truth, not with how he had reacted to Sebastian. And judging by how uncertain Merlin had been with his magic around those who would actually respect him for it, the Druid wasn't sure the warlock was ready for Arthur to know the truth either.
The young royal eventually blinked and looked away, accepting the lies spiralling within Adrian's eyes, oblivious to the fact that it was a spell to stop him suspecting his servant. He stumbled across to the altar, almost collapsing on top of his servant as his hands fumbled for the rest of the straps. Merlin was unconscious, and judging by how many places he was bleeding from, Arthur wasn't sure whether that was good or not. It would mean he would no longer be feeling the pain from the wounds. His exhausted hands scrabbled uselessly at the straps.
"Here." Sebastian's quiet and calming voice – the one Arthur knew had made him a damn good Knight even if Arthur had always had his doubts about him – cut through, and the noble made short work of untying Merlin.
"Knew I'd end up saving you," Arthur muttered, hoisting Merlin up and tipping the boy over his shoulder. He immediately grimaced as his back stung, but as the two remaining men stepped forward, Arthur brushed away their concerns.
"Go." He ordered tersely, and Adrian tensed. Sebastian, on the other hand, tugged on his friend's arm.
"Not now." He muttered softly. The man knew that Arthur was struggling to cope here, and considering everything that had happened and been done to him, he couldn't blame him. Letting them go now was Arthur's way of saying that he was letting them go for good. If he had the energy or was even thinking straight, he would no doubt try something more rash considering Sebastian's betrayal. One day, the noble knew the time would be right, but for now, they had to get away before Arthur snapped.
It wasn't until their footsteps had died away did the prince stumble forward, Merlin's weight on his back.
"Let's go home." He muttered, slowly putting one foot in front of other and making his way out of the room that had been his prison and hell hole for four days.
