Now I know it's been awhile (it seems I'm always starting updates this way) but I have been truly busy. I won't bore you with some of the crappy details of my life. But with any luck this chapter is better because of it.
Merlin was hanging from a rocky ledge of a sharp and rigid cliff. His whole body ached and screamed with fiery pain and the warlock did his best to hold it in like he always had. He had learned long ago not to give in to pain and fear, no matter how horrible it might be. Even so, he knew he couldn't last much longer. Beneath him, swirling and sloshing noxiously, was an ink black and murky green ocean. But this water wasn't water. Green and black fumes rose up from the violently churning sea and where the foul mist touched Merlin it singed and burnt him like an acid. The roiling waves were spraying ever higher and higher as the current seemed to encourage the water's desire to drown the helpless boy.
Merlin's hands were cracked and bleeding and were slowly, ever so slowly, losing their grip on the rough edge of the cliff that was all he had to hang on to. If Merlin fell now he would sink into that sickening water and would be swallowed up by it, never to return.
In the distance Merlin could see a sunset, but it wasn't the peaceful, beautiful, comforting kind. The sun was quickly dimming and disappearing and Merlin knew that when the last of the light melted away all hope he had would be gone. The darkness would consume him.
Merlin wasn't sure how long he had been clinging to the edge of this precipice, only that it was getting harder and harder every moment to hold on. He was in so much pain and he was so tired; part of him just wanted to let go and fall to what would surely be his death if only it meant some peace and rest. Despite his longing to give up he refused to and continued to hang on. He knew he wasn't capable of pulling himself over the ledge and onto firm ground for there seemed to be some invisible weight pulling him down towards the sea. And the weight was strong enough to prevent him from moving to safe ground. And it seemed every moment the weight was getting heavier.
But even though he had no idea how long he had been desperately holding on to this sheer cliff face, he did remember that several times during this torturous agony he had seen figures way off in the distance. And if he squinted at the figures long enough he would be able to recognize them as none other than his drunk and easy-going friend and the prince who was both his master and his brother. Arthur was the reason Merlin did everything, so it only seems fitting that he should be the very reason why Merlin hadn't given up yet and surrendered to his doom. Arthur was an oblivious prat and as such he needed Merlin to protect him. And as long as Arthur needed his protection Merlin would always been there, or, at least, he would try his absolute and utter hardest to do so. But Merlin knew that despite his desire to stay to watch over and guard Arthur eventually, probably soon, he would be unable to hold on any longer. Already his mind was fuzzy from the agony and exhaustion. He didn't have long left.
The only way Merlin would be able to make it out of this alive would be if someone above him grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Merlin knew he only needed a little push, a little bit of help and then he would be able to make it the rest of the way and put the poisonous and violent sea behind him and he'd be able to run back to Arthur's side. But the sun was quickly losing its light. If someone didn't find him here soon then there would be no hope for him.
Beneath Merlin the foul water reached higher still in an effort to claim the life of its newest victim. Long shadows started eating along everything as the last rays of light began to slowly fade out of existence. He was running out of time.
"Arthur," Merlin whispered in a broken and hoarse voice, filled with pain and despair, "help me."
It would be hard for Arthur to describe the myriad of emotions that flowed through him when he heard Merlin's faint whisper. But the emotion that he would come to remember most whenever he thought back on it would be the complete and unbridled fear and terror that gripped him when he made out Merlin's words.
"Arthur…help me."
The very fact that Merlin, in his current unconscious state was asking for help terrified Arthur. He had never heard the boy ask for help before like that in his life. Merlin wasn't asking for assistance in lifting something, no, he was begging Arthur to save him. Hearing Merlin say those words truly confirmed for Arthur what he had desperately been trying to deny. The servant was in trouble; he was dying and he knew it and he was asking perhaps the last person he should to save him.
And the other most prominent emotion that Arthur felt, hiding just beneath the fear, was a sense of warm satisfaction. Or happiness. Merlin was asking him, not anyone else, and somehow that gave Arthur a feeling of affection towards the boy. Dying, in pain, and being attacked by foul magic, Merlin called out to him for help.
"It's going to be okay, Merlin, it's going to be okay," Arthur said, hoping that his friend could hear him. But whether Merlin could or not didn't seem to matter because suddenly the servant jolted where he lay on his horse and began to convulse. Gwaine glanced back when he heard the noise and saw the horrific sight of Merlin shaking harder than anyone should be able to. Arthur and the drunk shared a panicked glance before Arthur turned his head and yelled over the din of the rain to Jonathon in front of him, "Merlin is running out of time!"
The soldier as well as the sorcerer Cirrus looked back and saw the sight they had. Worry and dread briefly flashed in Jonathon's eyes before they returned to their stoic normal. He nodded and said, "We're in a hurry; let's get back in record time." And with that he spurred his horse on and the creature surged forward in full gallop. It only took the others two seconds before they followed suit, Arthur's horse leading the one carrying Merlin.
From that point on Arthur didn't notice much of anything. All he saw was the horse in front of him that he was following and Merlin when he looked back every couple of seconds. At some point during their mad dash and amidst all the whipping wind and rain Arthur became dimly aware that they had entered a large city and were weaving in and out of buildings, but he paid no attention to them, just to Jonathon's horse. And perhaps five minutes into their frantic gallop the prince became aware that they were going uphill, but he truly only remembered that moment because that was when he noticed Merlin's shaking getting worse and when he heard a horrible, strangled gasping noise begin to come from him.
"Merlin! Hold on!" Arthur yelled back, trying desperately to keep the boy alive just a little bit longer.
Abruptly the ground underneath their horses' hooves leveled off and Jonathon pulled his to a stop. For the first time Arthur properly looked in front of him and he saw not ten feet away a huge gate looming over them with large spires from some sort of castle visible behind it.
Jonathon rode up to the closed gate and reached up and grabbed a string which was connected to a very large bell. He rang the bell, but it was clear that this wasn't any ordinary ring, but rather a sequence of short dings and long dongs.
After Jonathon had completed the obvious code he urged his horse back a few steps and then waited. They didn't have to wait for long; however, because in a moment the great gate doors swung inwards and once again the party surged forward.
In no time at all Arthur found himself dismounting in a haze and rapidly untying the struggling Merlin. Gwaine dashed over to help him and it was a good thing that he did, because Arthur wouldn't have been able to hold Merlin otherwise. The boy was completely thrashing now and the convulsions racked every inch of his body while he desperately gulped and gasped for air that he couldn't seem to get.
Arthur briefly touched Merlin's skin and gasped in pain, he felt like he had been burnt. But despite the dangerously high fever Merlin's skin was paler than Arthur had ever seen it. The prince felt something wet sink into his arm and he looked down to see crimson blood seeping from the wound in Merlin's arm.
After pinning down Merlin arms and legs very awkwardly Arthur found that he was finally able to carry him, but it was still very difficult. If it weren't for the fact that Merlin was hardly strong on a good day, let alone as weakened as he was now, Arthur never would have been able to keep ahold of him.
While Arthur and Gwaine had been frantically trying to subdue Merlin whose painful gasping seemed to be getting worse and worse by the minute, Jonathon had rushed up to a door and knocked on it. A small slot in the door slid back briefly before whoever was on the other end decided to open the door. Then Jonathon looked back at them just long enough to catch their eyes and then he strode quickly through the door, with them following.
Finally they stepped out of the pouring rain and into a humongous entryway whose ceiling was high enough for a dragon to come in and be comfortable. But again, Arthur didn't pay any attention to his surroundings. Merlin hardly seemed to be getting any air at all now.
Jonathon led them rapidly down the long hallway, but just before they were about to turn down a small corridor a female's voice called, "Stop."
They all turned around to see a tall and beautiful woman in a flowing gown behind them. "Jonathon, what's happening?" she asked. But before anyone could answer the most horrible noise Arthur had ever heard and a sound that still frequently haunted his dreams pierced the still air and everyone turned, horrified beyond belief to stare at Merlin's convulsing body. Merlin had screamed. But just like all those years ago it wasn't any scream. Some people can scream easily, whether in pain or fear or surprise, but Merlin wasn't one of those people. Merlin never screamed, so when he did it was the sound of ultimate suffering and everyone who heard it knew it. There was no mistaking that noise for anything other than the worst sound any of them would ever hear.
For only two seconds the gorgeous woman just stared in speechless dismay and then her face hardened and she turned to Jonathon. "Go, take him. I'll go get the rest of the healers." And then she strode speedily away.
Jonathan himself wasted no time and before Arthur knew it they were in a warm room that had cots lined against the walls and two people sitting at a table. When the man and the woman saw them rush in they immediately jumped to their feet.
"Where?" was all Jonathan asked. The woman pointed to the cot closest to them and Arthur, with great difficulty, lowered Merlin on to it. The prince soon realized, however, that he would still have to hold Merlin to keep him from harming himself.
"What's his injury?" the man asked as the woman began grabbing some items.
"A bad arm wound that got infected with evil magic that is now killing him," Gwaine answered, bending down to help Arthur in his attempt to still Merlin.
"Incidere," the woman said as she returned and her eyes briefly turned gold as a long line was cut in Merlin's shirt and jacket by the spell, but by this point Arthur was beyond caring about magic.
The woman pulled aside the cut pieces of clothing and gasped at the sight. Arthur had been expecting bruises from their encounter with the giant spider and the beast, but what he saw was far worse than anything inflicted by those creatures.
Peppering his chest in a thick layer were hundreds of small, inch-sized bruises that altogether covered almost every bit of visible skin. And as Arthur looked closer he realized that the deep blue and purple bruises had been made by raindrops.
But Arthur knew that as harsh as that unnatural rain had been there was no way he himself was bruised this heavily, so the only explanation for Merlin's horrible bruises was the unusual sensitivity of his skin to anything that touched it. Arthur felt like he was going to throw up and the feeling only got worse as he realized that Merlin had been leaning on his horse, meaning that it was his back and his back alone that had been taking the brunt of the rain. In fact, the only time that Merlin's chest would have been exposed to the water was when Arthur had carried him from his horse inside the castle. But that had been barely a minute and by then the sorcerer Cirrus had long since cast the spell that protected them from the brutality of the rain. So if this was what Merlin's chest looked like after only being touched by the rain for a few seconds, then what did his back look like?
But that wasn't even the worst part. Crisscrossing his body over and over again were horrid black veins that pulsed with every heartbeat. These lines seemed to be growing along his body.
This time Arthur really was ill and he turned to the side and threw up in a bucket that was conveniently near him. The prince briefly wondered if it had been conjured by magic, but he truly didn't care. He went back to holding down Merlin, but now he was completely aware that his restraining hands were most likely bruising his friend.
The woman reached down and lightly touched Merlin's chest, but then she yelped and pulled her hand away. Arthur could tell by the look on her face that she hadn't pulled away because of how hot his skin was. She turned, horrified, to her partner. "This is foul magic. We're not strong enough to wipe it out."
Just then Arthur heard a noise and he turned his head to see the tall beautiful woman from before lead five people, three women, two men, into the room.
"I thought you might need them," the lady said with a smile, but it was completely humorless.
The man gestured and nodded and said as he turned back to Merlin, "We need help cleansing this man's body of dark magic. It's very powerful, so be wary."
All of the seven healers knelt down next to Merlin. The first woman put her hand on Arthur's shoulder. "It's okay, we've got him. You can let go."
Arthur didn't want to let go of Merlin or back away. He felt like if he did the last thing tethering the boy to this life would disappear and he would be gone. But logically the prince knew that these people were going to save Merlin and they needed him out of the way for that. Reluctantly Arthur pulled away and went to stand next to the lady and Gwaine.
The first time the seven of them touched Merlin they flinched and pulled back, all except the woman who had been here since the beginning, she knew what to expect. "Be strong," she said and the six of them hardened their faces and placed their hands on Merlin. One of the men pulled up the sleeve on Merlin's injured arm and his face twisted slightly in revulsion at what he saw. The arm was a spider web of the dark lines that surrounded the original wound and seemed to be stemming from it. The wound itself was bleeding heavily now and the blood was tainted black.
The man placed his hand on Merlin's arm and sucked in a sharp breath at whatever he felt and then he closed his eyes. Arthur looked around at the circle of healers whose eyes were all closed and found that he didn't even have it in him to be surprised when at the same time each one of them began to mummer something different in an unknown language. He couldn't even feel any fear or hatred when he saw a few of their eyelids flutter open and a hint of dull gold could be seen. Nothing mattered to Arthur anymore. Not magic, not his pride or what he had been taught. All that mattered was Merlin, which was why he didn't even try to make out what they were saying. If it didn't come from Merlin then his ears didn't care.
Suddenly Merlin's gasps were cut off and he began to foam at the mouth, but the healers' only response was to say their spells louder. "Merlin! Don't you give up!" Arthur yelled, frantically trying to get the boy to hold on. "Fight it!"
For some time now the cliff edge that Merlin had been hanging onto had been trying to shaking him off. Everything, the sky, the trees, the water, the cliff, and even the last few rays of the sun seemed to be shaking as in an earthquake. Merlin was only hanging on with one arm now; he no longer had the strength to hold on with two. The warlock knew this was it. He was dying. His destiny would crumble.
More than anything Merlin wanted to be by Arthur's side and protect him, but even he had his limits and he had reached them a long time ago. The pain he was feeling was beyond pain and every second he felt himself getting more and more exhausted. He was drained. There was no more fight left in him. He had nothing left to give.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin whispered. This was it, the battle he would lose. And he was going to stop pretending that he could win. He just wanted the pain to end and the only way for that to happen would be to let go. To give in. He just hoped Arthur would understand; that he wouldn't hate him for leaving. Merlin closed his eyes and in his mind he could see Arthur on a normal day, throwing goblets at him, yelling pretend threats, calling him an idiot because that was the only way he could express what he truly felt. Merlin smiled and let go.
Suddenly a hand appeared from above and grabbed his. Merlin's eyes flew open and he stared into the blue orbs of Arthur's. The prince smiled and grabbed Merlin's arm with his other hand. "Merlin, don't you give up. Fight it." And then Arthur pulled Merlin up and the boy found a foothold. Suddenly the comforting and helping hands disappeared, but it was enough. Merlin felt a new burning strength flood through him and he looked up the few feet of sheer cliff wall that was all that separated him from solid ground. No, he was not done today. He would not give up. Arthur had given him the push he needed and he would not disappoint him. It was his destiny to do impossible things and win impossible battles. What was a little bit of climbing in comparison?
Ignoring the angry and violent water below Merlin began to climb towards the top, towards Arthur, towards his destiny. The pain and exhaustion and even the earthquake was gone. He was Merlin and he was not finished today.
Arthur's very short finger nails dug into his arm and at some point they began drawing blood, but the prince didn't notice. He couldn't lose Merlin. Not now. Not ever.
Merlin was dying right in front of him and there wasn't a bloody thing he could do and it made the prince want to scream. And perhaps worse these people didn't seem to be able to do anything either.
But despite Arthur's doubt after a minute or so Merlin's convulsions slowed and he stopped foaming, but by this point the healers were sweating and already looked exhausted and their faces were scrunched up in pain.
And then something that Arthur would never forget for the rest of his life happened exactly five minutes after they had started their healing. Actually, three things happened at once. First, Arthur saw Merlin's back arch and heard another blood-curdling scream and the prince's heart stopped. Then he saw all seven of the healers' heads whip back and their eyes opened and Arthur saw the purest gold he had ever seen glowing in them. And then a sharp wind that came from nowhere picked up as the healers' hands all suddenly clasped and together, as one, they all said, "Heal."
A great golden light seemed to burst out of their circle and for a moment Arthur couldn't see anything but that. But as soon as the light had appeared it vanished, leaving the healers strewn across the floor and Merlin still upon the bed. The wind was gone and everything was still and dark.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried and ran to the boy's side. For one terrifying second Arthur thought his servant was dead, but as he put his hand on Merlin's chest he felt its distinct rise and fall. But even more miraculous than Merlin finally no longer shaking was when he lifted his hand and looked at the boy's chest to see that the deep bruises and the dark lines had vanished completely.
Quickly, Arthur pulled up the sleeve on Merlin's injured arm and instead of gazing at a gruesome wound that would have lasting damage he saw smooth, clean skin that was completely unmarred except for a thin, white line that was as long as the gash had once been. Glancing again at Merlin's chest, Arthur could see that there wasn't so much as the tiniest bruise or cut visible. Merlin was completely healed.
Arthur turned to look at the first woman, who seemed to be recovering from whatever had knocked her down, and said, "You healed him. Is he going to be fine?"
She reached up and placed her hand on Merlin and after a moment she replied, "Yes, yes he will be."
For what seemed like the first time in years Arthur felt like he could breathe again. He put his face in his hands and tried to contain the overwhelming joy he felt. He pulled his hands away and laughed breathlessly.
"Thank you," he said earnestly, grinning at them. "Thank you all." He gave another laugh. Merlin is going to be okay! He thought. And then, I am going to give him so many chores when we get home. That will teach him to worm his way into my heart and then scare me like this.
Arthur glanced at the peaceful and pain-free look on Merlin's face and he felt like that was the absolute best gift he could have been given. Merlin was safe. The biggest idiot in the world was safe. The prince didn't know how the imbecile had done it, but somehow Arthur had gotten attached to him. If Merlin had died Arthur didn't know what he would have done. It was like he was connected somehow to Merlin. The idea of losing him was unthinkable. Arthur was strong and he could handle a lot, but losing Merlin was the one thing that would break him.
Arthur didn't care that he had employed the use of magic to save Merlin or that he had essentially committed treason. Merlin was safe, and that was all that mattered.
I had intended for this to be longer, but you would have been waiting a lot longer for it, so I decided to end the chapter here. I'm hoping to update within a week, but tomorrow is my birthday so that might change things. However, at least I got this done before tomorrow, that was my plan. Oh, and a shout-out to all of my favorite authors, if you could please update tomorrow I would be much obliged. Please review.