Thirty Seven
Gwaine was passed out over his shoulder.
And he was heavy.
Merlin sighs and hoiks him up higher, so his feet drag less on the floor as Merlin lugs his stupid weight through the castle corridors towards the Knight's rooms. It's dark and the torches are burning lowly, Merlin can only guess what god forsaken hour of the morning it is. It's been a great night, a group of the other knights had joined them, and they'd had a right laugh. Non-one seemed to mind that Merlin had nursed the same half pint all evening, while Gwaine had downed who-knows how many consecutively.
It was just like when he'd gone out with the lads before.
As Merlin.
Except not.
Not quite. As friendly as the knights were, there was just something... lacking in the way they treated Aaron to how they'd treated Merlin. A lost spark perhaps.
Merlin misses that.
Expect for Gwaine, Gwaine had been dashingly friendly, chatting away like they'd known each other for years, laughing and ribbing him for silly things and ordering Merlin pints that the warlock seems to remember the Knight had all drunk himself... which is what usually happens when Gwaine drags him to the tavern. When he dragged Merlin to the tavern... But then, of course, Gwaine is naturally friendly, and can create a spark like that with anyone... and he was also rip-roaringly drunk. Merlin thinks this probably helped, or at least contributed, to his over-familiarity.
Merlin's had a great time anyway, but he's exhausted now, the excitement of the night has taken its toll, and Gwaine's dead weight isn't helping much. He stifles a wide yawn, and resists the urge to rub the sleep from his eyes as it clouds his vision. He blinks slowly, his whole body aching, and yawns again, dragging his feet along the long stone corridor that seems to go on forever.
"Merlin..." a soft, eerie voice calls out into the darkness. Merlin jumps. His heart pounding. Someone called his name. Or something. Gwaine is slipping down off his shoulder, heavy and cumbersome, as he whirls round, eyes wide, breathing erratic to see a shadowed form, lurking in the darkness just beyond the range of the torch-glow... "I knew a boy named Merlin once..." the shadowed figure has a darkly thoughtful voice, as it moves forward slightly into the light, and Merlin can make out the shadowy figure of Eldric.
"Y...You did?" Merlin desperately tries to calm his beating heart as it pounds loudly in his ears and Merlin is gripped with fear. Fear that Eldric knows, knows who he is... maybe even... what he can do... Merlin chokes, stumbling backwards at the thought, whole body seizing up like a deer in headlights, pupils blown wide.
"Yes." Eldric's teeth glint pearly white in the half-darkness as he tilts his head to the side smiles, lighting up with the whites of his eyes, dark pupils glittering in the flickering flames. The grin is feral, hungry, like a panther waiting to pounce on its next meal. "He was the prince's last Manservant." The emphasis Eldric puts on the word 'last' makes Merlin shudder. "I... did away with him... so to speak." Merlin takes another large, shaky step back, conscious of Gwaine's heavy weight on his shoulder. He doesn't think he could run if he had to. And he wouldn't just leave Gwaine. Not a chance. "I told the King he was some kind of sorcerer!" Eldric laughs, high and cold. "Stupid old fool believed me, and it was bye bye Merlin." His maniacal grin widens and he runs his tongue over his teeth again reflecting the look Merlin feels a particularly hungry predator would possess. "Then I got the job." Eldric rolls his head on his shoulder, his neck producing a cracking sound that makes Merlin cringe. "But then you came along..." The other servant takes a step forward, towards Merlin, and Merlin steps back. The warlock's back bumps a wooden section of the wall behind him. A door! He could make an escape! He could... Merlin grasps the handle with his hand twisted behind his back. Then, his heart sinks, with the sudden, awful realisation that none of the main castle doors had handles like this... only the storage cupboards. A door that goes nowhere. No escape. Merlin's heart is in his throat, beating wildly. He feels sick. A little dizzy. "And I lost my lovely little job... All my plans were ruined." Eldric sneers at him.
"Plans?" Merlin frowns. What plans had Eldric got? Merlin had just thought Eldric wanted the job, his pay. That's what Arthur had said. "Don't you just want the money, the station? Isn't that why you... got rid of... this other manservant?" The sick feeling in Merlin's stomach intensifies as Eldric just beaks out into gales of maniacal laughter.
"Oh, I did at first. I wanted the power, the money, the glory that comes with being the personal servant of the Prince. But then I realised, after Uther had bought my little story, and the boy was to be hung, that little Prince Arthur is not all he's cracked up to be. Tried to save the supposed-sorcerer he did." Eldric smirks. "Magic is evil! And there the Crown Prince was! Defending a Sorcerer! He's corrupted the monarchy! His blood is bad! He's bewitched! He needs... removing... let's say..." Eldric cracks his neck again and grins, taking another step closer to Merlin. The silvery glint of a blade can be seen in the firelight. A knife. Merlin forgets how to breathe. "So you know what I thought I'd do? I thought that when I got my job back, I'd find the perfect moment and assassinate the prince! A moment when everyone is watching! When they'll see the traitors downfall!" His voice cracks up into gales of laughter once more. "And what better to do that at his side! As his own manservant!"
"You're crazy." Merlin shakes his head, eyeing the dangerous blade the madman carried and pressing his back firmly against the useless door; Gwaine is heavy and of no use sprawled on his shoulder. He can't use magic. He can't be seen. Not by Eldric.
He won't risk it.
He won't risk Arthur's plan to disguise him being found out.
He won't risk Arthur.
"But then you, little Aaron! You!" the blade is raised and used to point menacingly at Merlin "You got in the way! You took my job! My job! And I lost my chance!"
"Good!" Merlin hisses, teeth bared in a growl. "Good! You're insane!" He cries, hoping someone will hear, someone will come running. Gods, he's facing a lunatic with a knife, and he can't use magic!
He can't!
He won't.
"How dare you!" Eldric roars, swinging his blade in the air in the manner a flower girl waves the flowers around at a wedding. Carelessly. Thoughtlessly. The comparison poses a horrible juxtaposition in Merlin's head. "I used to be rather good with the throwing knife, you know." Eldric grins, teeth glinting in his hysterical laughter. "That's how I'll kill him... The pretty prince! And, Aaron... that's how I'll kill you!" The squire roars and slashes the blade downwards in a great sweeping arc towards Merlin's stomach. And he can't use magic, he can't, and...
Shiiinnnnggggg.
Merlin's shoved roughly to the side.
He sprawls against a convenient pillar.
Metal clashes with metal as the knife blade meets the blow a sword.
Gwaine!
The knight stands before Merlin, long hair wild around his face, eyes dark and angry.
"Like hell." He spits, shoving Eldric up against the wall. "You're not going to touch a hair on his goddam head!" Eldric gargles uselessly pinned with a thick forearm across his throat, hands scrabbling at the limb that holds him in place. Merlin stares at him, stares at this wild knight protecting Arthur, his prince, strong and tall and... Gwaine sways where he stands... completely drunk.
"You're familiar, boy." Merlin jumps when he realises Eldric is addressing him over Gwaine's arm, voice oddly distorted by the pressure applied to his voice-box. It's still clearly a sneer though. Like Merlin isn't worth the soil from under the man's boot. "At least, I thought you were. Reminded me of the last, stupid, bumbling manservant... guess I must be confusing you. You pathetic serving types are all the same! Useless!" Merlin's heart leaps as he realises Eldric doesn't know who he is after all! He had just been guessing! Trying to rattle him! Merlin's secret was safe! But... there's a flash of silver in the dark. Eldric's other hand, sweeping towards the soft flesh of Gwaine's stomach. Gwaine who's too drunk to react in time and...
"Look out!" Merlin cries, but he's too late, as Gwaine grunts in pain, doubling over before crashing to the floor with a choked yell.
"Pathetic." Eldric spits on him, Gwaine glaring up from under his long fringe as he wipes the glob from his cheek with his shoulder. His hands are pressed to a rapidly growing splotch of red on his torso, and his eyes are crinkled with pain. Merlin runs forward, desperate to do something, anything, but his shoved back against the wall. Gwaine cries out as Eldric kicks him hard in the chest. Merlin's head hits the wall.
"I don't have time for this..." Eldric snarls.
And all is darkness.
A/N: Longer chapter! Yey! :D
Hope you like this one! Another evil cliffie... oopsie... but I shall update asap!
Drop me a review to tell me what you think? Would be greatly appreciated!
Lenle G.