Arthur woke slowly with the rising of the sun, blearily aware that he wasn't in his bed in Camelot. Nor was he in that disgusting cell of Morgauses.
So where was he?
He eased himself into a sitting position, finding Merlin's brown jacket spread over his chest. And then it all came flooding back. One moment before he'd been knocked unconscious when Merlin's eyes had glowed gold, and the room had exploded in particular.
Merlin was a sorcerer.
A sorcerer.
And the bitter grief and hatred rose up in him. How hadn't he seen? Why hadn't Merlin told him? Why was he in Camelot in the first place? He ripped Merlin's coat away, and looked round.
His manser- no, the sorcerer was curled in a tight ball a few feet away, arms wrapped round his legs, looking troubled, even in his sleep.
Arthur just stared at that familiar face. The familiar face of a friend. Of his trusted servant. Of his advice giver.
Who turned out to be a traitor... It was ironic his most trusted friend had betrayed him.
And there wasn't a chance he'd miss seen or heard the scenario. He had seen Merlin's blue eyes go treacherously gold, and heard the whispered spell.
He curled his hands into balls, trying to keep calm. What now?
He couldn't pretend nothing had happened.
So he rose to his feet, and strode over to Merlin. There was only one thing he could do. And he would do it. No hesitation. Merlin wasn't Merlin any more. He was just a sorcerer.
Merlin was woken by somebody kicking his thigh. He tried to ignore the rather insistent foot, but it was impossible. He groaned, and opened his eyes.
Arthur was standing above him, face set in stone.
It took him two seconds to scramble backwards, and struggle to his feet, backing away a little more, his heart thudding at double the pace it had been before. Arthur knows. Arthur knows... He's going to kill me.
"Arthur..." he pleaded, his voice trailing away.
What could he say.
"Go." Arthur commanded.
Merlin gave a panicked gasp.
"W-what?"
Leave Arthur? His friend? Well, he had been his friend. But now Arthur looked at him as he would a piece of muck on his floor.
"I said go!" Arthur snarled, his face loosing its hard shell and splitting in rage and grief.
"Please Arthur! I'm sorry. I never wanted it." Merlin whispered, feeling his breath catch in his throat.
Arthur growled, and jumped forward, his hands fixing themselves round Merlin's throat. The warlock gave a choked gasp as they tightened, and struggled against Arthur's iron grasp.
It was only seconds later, that Arthur let go, curling his hands into fists and swallowing. He stepped backwards, drawing a shaky breath.
"Go." he commanded again.
"I-"
"Go! You've betrayed me, Merlin. So leave before I break your filthy neck!" he screamed, shattering the last shreds of self control he had.
Merlin thought his heart was breaking. Or something very close to it. His world had been broken... And it was his fault.
"Please Arthur, please." he murmured, backing away all the same.
"You don't deserve my pity. I should kill you right now. Go." Arthur snarled.
Merlin swallowed his reply, and turned away, walking slowly into the forest. Arthur had done exactly what he'd feared. And now he was banished. But he wasn't giving up.
Arthur stood for a long time, not thinking, just standing. Merl- the sorcerer was gone. Forever. He would never see him again. Good.
So he tried not to think about the ache of betrayal he felt. And the others of loss and grief.
Why Merlin? Why did you have to practise something against the law? He wondered, giving himself a moment to think about the Merlin he knew. Had known.
I never wanted it. What was that supposed to mean? Of course Merlin had wanted it, he'd studied it.
So many questions he would never receive an answer to.
He drew a deep breath. Merlin was gone forever. Never to return again. He had betrayed him, and his father. He deserved to be banished.
He should be dead.
But he wasn't, because Arthur couldn't kill Merlin. Merlin was Merlin, no matter what he'd done. He'd saved his life, challenged his authority, been at his side and cleaned his socks for so long. Why wasn't he, Arthur, dead?
Merlin had had every opportunity to kill him. Yet he hadn't. That seemed to clash rather violently with his father's conviction.
Arthur sighed, looked around. Merlin's jacket was still there, and it sent a dagger to his heart. After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up, and strode over to a horse. How it had gotten there, he didn't know nor care. He just wanted to get away. He mounted the slightly nervous animal, and looked around.
He had no idea where he was, or in which direction Morgause's castle was. Merlin had been the one that knew that.
Merlin had saved him.
Don't think about that. He snapped to himself.
But why? Why had Merlin presumably carried him out of the castle, slowing his own escape, and then carted him off on a horse to get him away.
And why had Merlin tried to reason with him? Why should he care if he was banished. He didn't seem to have any purpose in Camelot. So why had he begged, almost on hands and knees?
It was too confusing. If he thought any further, the one rule he'd grown up with his whole life would have to be questioned, and that was unacceptable. He resolved never to think of Merlin again.
Never.
Okay, another painfully short chapter. I'm loosing steam with this a bit I'm afraid, but I have got a plan to get Merlin and Arthur back together. Not sure when the next chapter will be up, but I promise there will be one. Reviews would probably help get me back on track :p