CW: general torture, whipping, cutting, etc. Please proceed with caution if stuff like this freaks you out.
"Get them up," Morgause ordered.
Cenred, who had been loitering in the doorway behind the witch, snapped his fingers.
Immediately, two guards entered the cell.
"Secure them," Cenred ordered.
The guards nodded, hands moving to untie the handcuffs hanging from their belts.
They paused momentarily, gazing between Arthur and Merlin, as though trying to decide who to unchain first, before approaching Arthur.
Arthur snapped at them, voice raised, "stay back!"
Teeth bared in a snarl, the prince struggled violently against the chains securing him to the wall. Curses flew from his mouth, vulgar and completely unbefitting of a member of the royal family.
Merlin stared at him in detached fascination, shock masking the sorrow he might have typically felt at such a display. He had seen Arthur in various fits of emotion, had caused quite a few fits of rage himself, but he had never seen Arthur behave like this.
Like he was terrified; an animal trapped in a snare, lashing out desperately at their surroundings, with the fleeting hope that maybe if they struggled enough, appeared threatening enough, that they would survive.
Briefly, Merlin wondered why Arthur is acting like this.
This was not the first time they had found themselves in a prison cell completely at the mercy of their captors.
So what made this time different?
Merlin racked his brain.
Everything had seemed normal - well, as normal you could expect sitting in a dungeon for the umpteenth time can be - so far. They had been joking, laughing. They had poked fun at their situation.
And then….
Merlin had been afraid.
His breath caught.
The cursing and the desperate acts...it was all for him ?
Arthur was fighting for him and not himself?
That was….strangely heartwarming, actually.
Merlin straightened from his slouched sit.
He would not be afraid.
Not anymore.
He had been shocked to see Morgause so soon after the poisoning incident.
It had been an all too painful reminder of what had happened; bringing forth memories that Merlin had tried hard to suppress.
And while the memory of her desperation, of Morgana's rattling breaths and too pale skin and the feverish fervor he had felt still haunted him, he would not let it cripple him like this.
He could be brave for Arthur.
He could do this much.
On the other side of the cell, the guards said nothing. Deigning not to respond to Arthur's protests.
Their faces impassive.
One of them pointed the tip of their blade against the soft underside of Arthur's neck forcing him to still lest he slit his own throat.
The other guard deftly maneuvered his now unresisting wrists into the cuffs. Releasing one wrist, securing it in the handcuffs before moving onto the next wrist.
The whole process was over quickly, the guards very good at their jobs.
Leaving one guard to watch Arthur, the other made his way across the cell to, quickly and efficiently, give Merlin the same treatment.
Merlin growled.
Peeved that he, as always, was deemed such a non-threat that he only had one guard manhandling him.
While he was maneuvering Merlin's hands into the new handcuffs, Merlin felt his magic for a brief instant. He stiffened. He had been searching for his magic but had been unable to locate it. He had assumed it was because of the cell itself. But now he wondered if it was the cuffs that were blocking his access to his magic. Was there something special about the cuffs now locked around his wrists and the chains dangling loosely from the wall?
Merlin subtly examined the cuffs.
Upon closer inspection, he was able to make out tiny sigils engraved in the metal.
Ah-
Well, that explained it.
A wave of relief went through him so powerful, had he been standing, he would have been brought to his knees.
It wasn't that he was (had been) afraid. Or that he was dependent on his magic. But it was disturbing to be cut off from such an innate part of himself. He'd had magic his entire life, from the moment he was born, he was connected to the magic of the world. And to be cut off from it...
It was like realizing he suddenly only had one leg to stand on when he could have sworn that he'd just had two.
Not only that, it meant that he could fight back.
All he needed to do was get the cuffs off.
He barely had time to finish the thought, hope leaping brightly within him, before he was tugged carelessly to his feet.
He swayed slightly, took a shaky step forward to steady himself.
"Let's go."
They were pushed out the door, the guards hands rough on their backs and arms, frogmarching them down the long, dank hallway. The air in the hallway was frigid.
Merlin shuddered.
His thin clothes doing nothing to protect him from the chill.
The walls were made of the same drab stone Merlin had seen in their tiny cell. They glistened with wetness, the torchlight throwing the droplets into sharp relief. Looking for all the world like minuscule balls of fire, lighting their way into the unknown.
Merlin had once read about magical creatures who had appeared as living fire, guiding travelers to whatever fate awaited them.
Will-o-the-wisps.
Hinkypunks.
Apparently, creatures that appeared cute and friendly leading unsuspecting travelers to their doom was a very popular occupation.
At the time, he'd wondered what it must feel like to be led to your death like that.
Now, as he watches Morgause's blonde hair glow in the torchlight, he thinks he understands.
She walked next to Cenred, talking to him in quiet whispers, she smirked at Merlin when she noticed him watching before returning her attention to the king. Waving a dismissive hand when Cenred broke away from their little progression to hurry down a side hallway.
He wondered where he's going.
He wondered where he's going.
Merlin can only guess that they are being taken to some torture chamber to be interrogated.
The thought made his stomach crawl.
Anxiety writhed inside him, like a nest of snakes twisting in agitation had decided to take up residence in his stomach, making him stumble.
The guards roughly grasped his arm, pulling him up and forward. A yelp escaped him before he could quell it.
Arthur stiffened at the sound.
Twisting as much as he can with the guard's hands on his shoulder, he pivoted to look at him.
Merlin sees his eyes fall to the hand forming bruises on his bicep.
His eyes hardened, a vein popped out in his neck.
"What do you think you are doing to my servant," he spat. His face bright red with fury.
The guard clamped both hands on his shoulders, moving as though to yank him back. Arthur struggled against the hands holding him.
He lashed out with his elbows, bucking wildly in an attempt to free himself and get to Merlin's side. Curses and complaints flying from his lips.
Merlin dragged his feet, waiting to see what the plan is and how he can help.
He watches Arthur. Torn between wanting to help him and not wanting to get in his way.
Arthur would never forgive him if he somehow ended up thwarting his escape plan.
Instead, he lets his eyes wander the hallway, observing each of their captor's faces.
By this point, Morgause has stopped, her face giving away nothing, as she stared at the scene.
She raised a dainty eyebrow. As if to say well, get on with it.
Arthur's guard yanked him forward but Arthur refused to move his feet and had to be dragged every few steps.
It is hard work.
The guard's face screwed up from the effort, perspiration shone on his brow, he grunted as he hefted Arthur forward another step.
On the next step, Arthur is ready for him.
Deliberately dragging his leg against the ground, he forces the guard to stumble.
The old man staggered forward, his arms loosening slightly.
It is all the opportunity Arthur needs.
Yanking his shoulder from the guard's hands, he twisted to face him, throwing out a well-placed elbow to catch him in the ribs.
The guard wheezed, dropping his hands entirely to clutch at his chest. Immediately Arthur headbutted him, sending him crumbling to the ground.
The guard holding Merlin cried out.
Arthur turned to face the other guard but he looked disoriented.
Probably from giving himself a concussion.
Still, he slid into a battle stance as the guard removed his hands from Merlin's shoulders, rushing to aid his fellow sentinel.
Merlin spun, sticking his leg out, he tripped the unfortunate guard as he hurried past him.
The guard shouted, alarmed. Pinwheeling his arms he tried desperately to stay upright only to trip over the body on the floor, sending him careening into the prince.
They collapsed in a tangle of limbs.
Arthur shouted as the back of his head smacked into the wall behind him.
Merlin winced, horrified at what he had done.
The clotpole definitely had a concussion now.
Oh god.
He'd screwed things up.
This was the most pathetic prison break he'd ever witnessed; a prince with more brawn than brain, a clumsy warlock, and two blundering guards squabbling in a narrow hallway. It reminded him of the disagreements he'd seen between the village girls growing up.
He groaned again, leaning back to bang his head against the wall.
Stupid, stupid, stupid...
Morgause glared at them all. Stalking to the inert guards on the floor, she used her magic to haul them up.
"You fools," she roared. "How hard is it to watch two little boys ?"
Both of the guards scrambled to regain their holds on their captives, their faces showing only the last few vestiges of their former impassivity.
They were frazzled and it showed in the way they dragged them down the hallway into a large room.
Merlin's eyes darted around the room.
It was a large room; there were shackles lining one wall, dangling limply from their supports. A long table lined the back of the room, tools gleaned dully on its surface; a table stood in the middle of the room.
The air in the room smelled vaguely familiar to Merlin.
It smelled…sharp and kinda tangy.
For some reason, it reminded him of Gaius's rooms.
But Gaius' rooms had an assortment of smells so he couldn't really pin it down.
Morgause stopped, "Tie up Mr. Prince here, make sure our guest is comfortable," she grinned. "And place the servant boy on the table."
The guards hurried to comply.
Arthur shouted when he was slammed against the wall of the room, one of the guards roughly maneuvering his arms to reimprison him in shackles.
Merlin, meanwhile, was taken to the table in the center of the room.
Up close he could see that it had leather straps hanging down from the side and cuffs on both the top and the bottom ends.
It looked quite menacing.
At least to Merlin.
The guard pushed him down onto the table and held his chest down with one hand while placing his hands in the cuffs before moving down to his feet. Leaving the straps undone, for now.
When they are incapacitated, Morgause sauntered up to Merlin and caressed his cheek
"You look so pretty like this, all tied up," she croons. "I will love making you scream."
"You son of a-! Don't touch him," Arthur shouted furiously, yanking vainly against his restraints.
"Language, language," she tutted, stepping over to him.
Arthur tried to kick her.
Arthur gasped or tried to. There was an immense pressure on his throat making it impossible to breathe.
"Is that any way to treat your hostess?"
She leaned into his face which was turning blue from the lack of oxygen.
"Maybe I'll need to teach you some manners while we're at it."
The invisible pressure evaporated and Arthur struggled to stay composed over the urge to inhale like a madman.
She sauntered back over to Merlin.
"The rules are simple. I ask a question, you answer it." She looks over her shoulder at Arthur. "If I find the answer… dissatisfactory or you break a rule, Merlin will have the pleasure of facing the punishment. Do you understand?"
"You are a cow ," Arthur said.
She smiled a sickly sweet smile. "Lovely. Let's begin."
"What is in the vaults?"
A pained tint entered Arthur's eyes, he didn't answer, mouth staying stubbornly closed.
He turned his head away, ashamed.
A crisp snap echoed through the room and Arthur's head was jerked back to see the table.
"Did I forget a rule? Oh, silly me." She giggled madly. "There will be no looking away from Merlin."
A knife flew off the rack on the wall into her hand.
"Where would you like me to put my art?" She paused, scrutinizing Merlin. "Oh, a perfect spot."
Her eyes flashed gold and Merlin's trousers disappeared leaving his legs exposed to the cold dungeon air.
He shrieked as the knife tore through the skin of his inner thigh, once, twice. The two deep slashes immediately pooled with blood. It dribbled over his leg and onto the tabletop, painting its surface scarlet.
His breath caught. Tears pricked at Merlin's eyes.
That smell.
His mind finally placed what the smell reminded him of. It smelled like the old blood that sometimes permeated Gauis' chambers after he took care of a guard. The smell was thick and coppery. It clung to Merlin's tongue, metallic and sickening.
"What is in the vaults?"
"I can't tell you!" Arthur shouted. "Stop! Hurt me instead. It's me that you want."
The knife moved slowly this time, a mocking caress, adding to the "art" on Merlin's thigh.
"Are there any magical artefacts in the vaults?"
"I can't- I- I would never tell you!"
"A shame," She frowned exaggeratedly.
Quickly, she slashed three marks into Merlin's other leg. Forming a kind of demented star.
A whimper escaped from the thin line of Merlin's mouth.
Morgause hummed, dragging the tip of her knife over Merlin's calf, raising thin lines of red.
"Perhaps, you just don't have the right incentive, " she mused. "Let's fix that. I'm sure we can find a way to change your mind."
Summoning the guards, she gestured for them to lift Merlin off the table. Together they carried him across the room. They placed him in front of a pole he hadn't noticed was there, handcuffing him so he was almost hugging it. The handcuffs were then connected to a chain on the ceiling so that he couldn't sink down.
Her eyes flashed gold again and a whip appeared in her hand. It was made of dark brown leather, bits of metal embedded in it.
Merlin's shoulders instinctively tightened; he pulled against the straps in desperation but they refused to budge even an inch.
His eyes squeezed shut of their own accord.
His face screwed up in anticipated pain.
"Oh no, trust me," Morgause cooed with a taunting smile, her eyes alight with malice. "You're going to want to be strapped in for this. We're about to find out just how many times a person can break."
"You witch !" Arthur yelled. "When I get out of here I will make you regret what you have done. I will-"
Morgause ignored his threats.
"Is there a cup? In the vaults?"
"I don't know," Arthur shouted, "I don't know everything that's in there."
"Who does?"
"Go piss yourself."
Morgause's eyes burned with hatred.
The whip landed multiple strikes on Merlin's back. Ripping long strips of cloth off his shirt.
His back arched toward the pole and his breathing hitched, a strangled scream escaping his bloody lips.
Arthur regained the wildness of before, as he tried to tear the shackles from the wall, panic racing through his veins like white, hot fire.
A loud crackle, pop sounded as both Arthur's shoulders dislocated.
The pain and noise shocked him out of the haze he was in.
"You didn't have to do my work for me," Morgause simpered. "You'll have plenty of fun when it's your turn."
Arthur just sagged as he panted.
"Please," he begged, voice nearly failing him under the weight of a cracking psyche as his eyes darted to his best friend, hanging heavy in his chains. "Please. Don't hurt him anymore, hurt me instead."
She cocked an eyebrow, twirled the whip in her nimble fingers, staring hungrily at Arthur, now slumped in a helpless heap against the wall.
She chuckled.
"Is that what you think?" she asked, approaching him, something too like a ravenous hunger in her cold gaze. She tilted his head up with the handle of the whip, forcing the prince to look her in the eyes. "Oh, you poor, naive thing. I was always going to hurt both of you."
"I just planned to hurt you worse," she said. Removing the whip handle she let Arthur's head droop down to rest against his chest, his jaw clenched in frustration.
"Shall we start again? Splendid," she moved back to Merlin's side. "Who knows what is in the vaults?"
"I could ne- never betray them."
Merlin wailed as more lines were added to the collection on his back.
A sob rose from him.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"We could end both your suffering right now. Tell me who knows what is in the vaults."
"No….no."
Morgause grabbed a handful of salt from a bowl on one of the workbenches.
Merlin screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed as she literally rubbed the salt into the wounds.
His back arched so far he was almost parallel to the floor.
"No! Stop it! You'll pay for that! You will all pay for this!" Arthur thundered.
Merlin drooped lifelessly, screams devolved into sobs.
He could hardly see, his vision so blurred by tears.
Black spots danced in his vision as he struggled to stay conscious.
He was hardly aware of the guards hauling him up, dragging him across the ground to take Arthur's place hanging on the wall.
He cried out when his ruined back made contact with the wall behind him.
The world rushed back into startling focus.
Each breath he took scraping his back against the rough-hewn stone, aggravating the stripes on his back.
His shirt clung to him uncomfortably, wet and heavy with blood; it was going to be torture in and of itself to get it off later.
Arthur took his place at the chain hanging from the ceiling. His arms somewhat bent above him.
"The rules are the same, Merlin. I ask a question, you answer it, or Arthur faces the consequences."
She smiled her sickly sweet smile at him.
"How can I get into the vaults?"
"With a key." Merlin snarked breathlessly, as the black spots transformed into waves that washed inward from the edge of his vision, great and all-encompassing. He could hardly see Arthur in front of him.
Was that a good thing?
That he wouldn't have to watch his friend suffer?
Or was it just selfish of him?
Merlin didn't know.
Morgause flicked a finger at one of the guards.
The chain was raised until Arthur was forced to stand on tiptoe to avoid putting his body weight on his damaged shoulders.
"Who carries this key?" She demanded. "The king?"
"Sometimes."
Her eyes narrowed.
Arthur was lifted off the ground.
For a few painstaking seconds, he dangled there, jerking spastically.
He reminded Merlin of a fish strung from a line, struggling for breath, unable to bear the pain it suddenly found itself in.
His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Merlin felt terrible.
Like that scream was burning into his conscience.
It echoed in his ears; it was a sound he knew he would relive in his nightmares for years to come; a constant reminder that he'd hurt Arthur.
Cenred appeared in the doorway.
"My dear," he said. "You are needed elsewhere."
Morgause frowned briefly.
She gestured at one of the guards, "Take them back to their cell. And you-" she gestured to the guard by the door, "come with me. I'm sure your friend here can handle two heavily wounded animals by himself."
"Yes, Lady Morgause," the guards intoned.
Morgause ignored them, sweeping from the room with an air of satisfaction.
Merlin could barely register the remaining guard putting him into the handcuffs.
Arthur's expression of agony branded into his mind.
This time the handcuffs are easily put on Arthur as he stands limply.
Seemingly accepting the loss of freedom.
Taking a hold of both their arms, the guard marches them back down the hallway.
The hallway is silent except for the echoing of their footsteps.
Without the struggle of last time the trip is much shorter, before long they stand in front of the cell.
The cell door opened with a creak and the guard pushed them into it, closing the door behind him.
As soon as the click of the latch is heard, the relaxed air around Arthur changes into a frenzy of energy.
He tripped the guard and Merlin kneed him in the forehead as he went down.
Steadfastly ignoring the pain that stretching his back caused him, he kneeled down beside the unconscious guard, hands groping at his belt.
"It's on his belt, to the left," Arthur told him.
Merlin groped to his left.
"Not that way, you idiot. Your other left."
"That was my left! You gave bad directions."
He felt the cold metal ring and unclipped it from the belt.
"Which key is it?"
"I don't know. Try them all." Arthur suggested.
After six failed attempts at unlocking Arthur's handcuffs, they finally clicked open.
Arthur took the proffered key from Merlin and unlocked his handcuffs.
Merlin shook out his hands and enjoyed the feeling of magic flowing through his body. Now if only he could conjure some trousers without Arthur noticing...
He turned around to face Arthur and saw him rubbing his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Arthur quickly replied. "Just these annoying black spots."
"Black spots," Merlin repeated, remembering the blow Arthur had obtained to his head. "You dollophead! Why did- Do you have any- Ugh! If what I think is happening, is happening, our escape just became ten times harder."
"Why must you always talk in riddles, Merlin?" Arthur groaned, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.
"It means, you clotpole, that that little concussion you got is not so little."