A/N: A new chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Three: Emptiness between Atoms

The next time Merlin woke was to the light of flickering torches and coldness. He lay on his side and everything hurt. Even drawing breath hurt. His brain wouldn't grant him even a moment of dazed confusion. No, immediately an image of Arthur's angry face spooked through Merlin's mind. The disgust, though, was worse than the anger. Magic… He had used magic right in the throne room. Powerful, dangerous magic. Now the old sorceress and Agravaine were gone. Merlin hadn't wanted to kill anyone. He had just tried to protect. A whimper fell from Merlin's lips. Gods. He had… Arthur had seen it. His stomach gave a lurch at the thought.

"Consumed by evil," the warlock whispered, voice rough.

Merlin tried to sit up, but the movement sent shooting pains through his left side and he gasped. Sucking in shallow breaths, he lay on the cold floor. His face throbbed painfully with each heartbeat. With unseeing eyes, he stared at the rough stone walls and metal bars from his cell. This was where Arthur wanted him. Merlin gritted his teeth and even that sent pain throbbing through his head. How pathetic could he get? Cursing himself for his own stupidity, Merlin again tried to sit up. His head spun, accompanied by nausea, and blinding pain clawed at his left side. Merlin pulled through and managed to sit up, sagging with his back against the dungeon wall.

Carefully, he pulled his hurt left arm into his lap. Even in the dim lighting, he could see it was swollen and bruised heavily. He wondered if it was broken as well. A couple of his ribs surely were. Stupidly, the memory of him polishing Arthur's boots just the day previous sprang up in his mind's eye. Merlin could almost see himself, crouched on the floor in the king's chambers, as he rubbed the polish into the leather. Who'd have thought he'd have those very same boots kick in his ribs just a day later?

At the thought, something constricted around his throat, cruel and raw, and he blinked his eyes. A few tears escaped and Merlin desperately tried to ignore the empty feeling in his chest. Numbly, his gaze wandered over his cell. It was dark, cold, and bare. They hadn't even given him some straw. No, he sat on the raw stone floor. Through the bars, he saw a torch, flames sadly struggling against the dark. Merlin trembled and he wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or the pain.

Damn it all.

He wanted to pull up his magic, burst open the door, and run. Run from this all. From this dungeon, from the darkness, and from that hate in Arthur's eyes.

He couldn't.

Where would he even go to? Camelot was his home. His duty lay here. He had to protect Arthur. A groan left Merlin. He really needed to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help him right now. Certainly, not all was lost. Arthur was furious with him, disappointed, but sooner or later the king would see reason. Agravaine's death had shaken Arthur, Merlin knew that. In the king's eyes the man had been a trusted advisor, family. In that light, Arthur's violent reaction was, if not acceptable, at least understandable. Merlin stared at the dirty floor in front of him as he tried to bring order back to his swirling thoughts.

Arthur wasn't stupid. He knew Merlin. After his rage calmed, the king would want to talk with him. He'd give Merlin the opportunity to explain. And then, Merlin would tell him the truth. Everything. He would tell him about Agravaine's alliance with Morgana, about their attempts to take Arthur's life.

And he would tell him about Emrys and their destiny.

.+.

"But it's Merlin."

There was a tug in Arthur's chest at hearing the name alone. Anger seething, he grabbed the goblet with wine and took a swig. The alcohol burned nicely down his throat.

"He betrayed us," he decided tightly. "He murdered my uncle."

Guinevere sank down in the chair opposite from him, distraught look on her pretty face. She stared at him with wide eyes and Arthur could see tears swimming in them. He hated Merlin even more now.

"Arthur, you…" she whispered and he saw her gaze was stuck on his hand holding the goblet.

His knuckles were raw, skin chafed at places and red. He had lost control. That's how far the sorcerer had driven him. Angrily, Arthur put the goblet down on the table. He pulled his hands out of sight and laid them on his thighs under the table.

"I…" he tried and the anger still burned hot as fire. "I lost it, Guinevere. I shouldn't have attacked him like that. It was… unbecoming."

Among other things.

His wife stared at him, eyes red, and she breathed, "No. You shouldn't have."

"I know," Arthur replied tersely.

For a moment, they sat in silence. The king stared down at the table top, eyes unseeing. He still couldn't believe that Agravaine truly was gone. Gods, he'd known that Merlin didn't like Agravaine. He should've done something. Now the only blood relative that Arthur had left was Morgana, of all people. At the thought, the royal was hit by the urge to march down to Merlin's dungeon cell and continue what he had started in the throne room. That was what Merlin had reduced him to. A violent, blind idiot.

"I just don't understand," Guinevere whispered shakily. "How is this possible? Since when does Merlin have magic?"

"I don't know," Arthur replied, fighting for composure.

"I mean, it can't have been for long, right?" His wife looked at him pleadingly. "We'd have noticed, surely."

He had been so stupidly blind. A filthy sorcerer had made Arthur dance to his wicked tune. It made him sick as he had to confess, "I didn't notice anything. This is all my fault."

"No, Arthur." Guinevere's pretty eyes flashed to him in concern. Hastily, she assured, "We all never noticed anything. It's not your fault."

He sent her a small, if a bit shaky, smile. Still, he should've noticed the magic and should've put a stop to it. He wondered what had driven Merlin to study those dark arts. What had happened to drive the harmless, kind-hearted servant to abandon all honour?

"He can't be evil, though," Guinevere whispered, voice quavery. Her eyes flicked to his hopefully. "Right? He's… just misled, surely."

Something squeezed around Arthur's chest and he swallowed thickly. Fighting for composure, he replied, "I grew up with Morgana. We were friends and I would've trusted her with my life. I would've trusted her with your life." He stared at Guinevere and desperation wrenched at him. "And I-"

He couldn't continue and bent his head, eyes burning with unshed tears. A hand gingerly curled around his arm and Arthur looked up. Guinevere had reached for him, her touch grounding him, while sadness swam in her eyes. Arthur took in a shaky breath of air.

"Morgana is evil. Magic has twisted her into a monster." Self-contempt entered his voice as he continued, "And I was blind to it. For so long. I didn't see. Didn't want to see. And people died. It was my fault. I will never make that mistake again."

Guinevere's hand gave him a gentle squeeze. Then she let go of him again. Arthur again reached for his goblet and took a gulp of the red wine. He wished he could just drink this whole thing away.

"He tried to save you, though." Guinevere eyed him searchingly. "Merlin warded off that sorceress' spell."

Arthur nodded softly. "It appeared to be that way."

Guinevere arched a thin eyebrow. "Appeared…?"

"We don't know what he planned. Maybe they were accomplices. Who is to tell between all those lies? In the end, he killed an innocent man today." He sent her a shaky look. "However Merlin uses his magic, it doesn't matter. It's still a force of evil. The moment he decided to give himself to that darkness, he was lost to us."

Arthur closed his eyes. He wished this was only a bad dream he could wake up from. How could it have been Merlin? He looked at his wife again and was torn apart by the grief he found on her face. He could not risk Guinevere, nor Camelot's safety, not even for Merlin's sake. Arthur knew, he must not cave.

"What are you going to do with him?" Guinevere asked, tone strangled.

Arthur stared at her and his world twisted around him. It felt as if Merlin had taken a cruel knife to him and cut his heart right out of his chest. He had abandoned Arthur in this unbearably cold world. Guinevere sniffled and this time the tears brimmed over. She rubbed with a shaky hand over her eyes.

"Arthur…" she whispered shakily. "Merlin is my best friend."

Something coldly, cruelly sliced at Arthur and he could barely breathe. More tears rolled down Guinevere's soft skin and he could feel his own eyes water. He didn't bother to hide his tears, but let them roll down his face. He had never said it out loud, but he had considered Merlin to be his best friend as well. What a farce. The hollow feeling in his chest was now accompanied by a wave of hate. Merlin had destroyed everything. Arthur's tone was covered by a layer of frost as he replied,

"You may have been his friend, but he never was yours. It was nothing but lies."

.+.

"Here," the guard grunted. "'s all ya get. Even tha's too much for someone like yerself."

The man threw something at Merlin. He flinched as it hit his leg and tumbled on the floor. The guard sneered at Merlin's slumped form in the cell. Without further words, the man then left again, shuffling down the corridor. Merlin frowned at his retreating back. His gaze dropped to the pitiful crumb of bread the guard had tossed at him. Merlin picked it up. The bread was dry and hard as a rock. He still nibbled at it, seeing that it was still better than nothing. At least he'd been given some water earlier as well.

As he ate, Merlin wondered how long he'd been in the dungeons already. It felt like an eternity, but it hadn't been more than a day. Merlin could tell, because high up in the wall, his cell had a small window. Too small for a man to squeeze through and barred, but still a window that showed the passage of daylight. It was just unfortunate, that it didn't only let in daylight, but also the cold winter air. Merlin sighed and nibbled at his bread.

When would Arthur finally come?

Merlin took in a shuddering breath of air. He could still feel the king's hands on him. His face throbbed in pain where Arthur had hit him. The dried blood stuck to his skin with a metallic smell that made him sick. Done with his meagre meal, Merlin readjusted his position leaned against the dungeon wall. A soft whimper left him as he was instantly punished by a sharp pain from his left side. By now, he was pretty sure he had at least broken one rib, most likely more than that. His right hand lay on his painful left side and he tried to take in shallow breaths of air.

He wanted to talk with Arthur.

But then he also desperately didn't want to see the man.

Merlin worried his bottom lip and stubbornly ignored the unpleasant knot in his stomach. He was not looking forward to telling Arthur the truth. He didn't quite know how best to break Agravaine's betrayal to the king. It would probably send the man into another fit of rage. Well, the upside was that by that point Arthur would be on the other side of bars. Merlin rolled his eyes at the thought. In all seriousness, though, he had no idea how Arthur would react to their shared destiny, to Emrys and the Once and Future King. Despite it all, though, maybe there was a ray of hope. Once Arthur knew the truth, it would be easier for Merlin to protect him.

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted by rustling coming from down the corridor. Involuntarily, he stiffened as he heard steps coming towards him. Arthur? Merlin's heart skipped a beat and he was not ready for this conversation. He sat up a bit straighter. It didn't take long, and a man stepped in front of his cell. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Gwaine?"

Grin in place, it really was Gwaine. The knight's chainmail glittered even in the dim torch light. His sword hung from a richly decorated belt while his hand lay on the hilt.

"Of course," Gwaine said and arched a taunting eyebrow. "Did you expect anyone else?"

Merlin stared at him warily. He wasn't sure what the knight thought of him, now that his magic was exposed. Gwaine had been in the throne room, when Merlin had fought off the sorceress, but how had the knight reacted to Merlin's magic? Everything was a mess in the warlock's head. Silently, Merlin watched as Gwaine turned his head as if checking for any sounds coming from up the stairs. Then the man stepped closer to the metal bars and gazed at Merlin. He cocked an eyebrow and drawled,

"You know, I thought you would put-" Gwaine wiggled with his fingers. "-a magical hand to this dreadful interior design."

Seeing the mischievous glint in his friend's eyes made Merlin instantly relax. He even barked out a laugh. It was instantly punished by a sharp pain from his side. Merlin groaned and grabbed at his broken ribs. Merlin's pain washed away the grin on Gwaine's face. Scanning the hurt warlock in worry, the knight sighed,

"Oh, Merlin. What did he do to you?"

Merlin sent him a small smile. "You know me, Gwaine. I've had worse."

The man huffed an indignant breath and leaned his forehead against the bars, still staring at Merlin's huddled form. Anger was wrapped around Gwaine's next words, as he spat,

"I swear, I'm going to kill the bastard for this."

"No," Merlin instantly said. "You'll do no such thing."

"He'd deserve it," Gwaine hissed furiously. "How the fuck could he do that?"

Merlin sighed and sagged against the wall behind him. Wearily, he replied, "I messed up. I just… I noticed that sorceress much too late. I should've felt her presence sooner. Then I could've stopped her before she ever set foot into the hall."

"No!" Gwaine growled, anger twisting his tone. "Don't tell me that it was your fault! Fuck, Merlin. You saved Arthur's neck."

"I killed Agravaine," Merlin whispered, voice croaky.

A troubled look washed over Gwaine's face but then he decided, "He attacked you first."

"I didn't mean to kill him," Merlin sharply bit the inner side of his cheek. "But… he was Morgana's."

"What?!" Gwaine's eyes widened in shock.

"I've known for some time now," the warlock blurted, feeling desperate for his friend to understand. "Agravaine and Morgana… They've been working on taking Arthur's life. I couldn't let that happen."

A puff of air left Gwaine's lips as he weakly sagged against the bars of the cell. He ran a hand in distress through his hair.

"Fuck, Merlin. You were trying to save Arthur and he… he beat you up for your trouble."

Merlin closed his eyes shortly and took in a steadying breath of air. Arthur's angry face spooked once again through his thoughts and he quickly concentrated on Gwaine again.

"Well, I used magic," he said numbly. "That's always worth a visit to the dungeons, right?"

The knight's fingers tightened around the metal bars. His voice dropped to a hiss as he inquired, "For how long have you done this? Hm? The magic? How long?"

The sharp tone made Merlin stiffen. Nervously, he scanned Gwaine and the anger on his friend's face. The warlock swallowed around the mounting panic. His voice trembling, he replied,

"I- I always had it. The magic, it was always with me. But I… I never meant to hurt anyone." He stared at Gwaine imploringly. "Please, believe me. I was trying to protect Arthur."

In face of Merlin's fear, the anger dropped from Gwaine. He threw the warlock a reassuring smile as he whispered gingerly, "I know. Everyone not blind would realize. You've been doing that a lot, haven't you? Protecting us?"

Carefully, Merlin watched the knight. Then he gave him a small nod. Gwaine snorted and said wryly, "All those fallen branches. All the lucky instances. I'm actually a bit ashamed that I didn't see it sooner. Now that I think about it, it was so obvious."

Merlin's lips quirked up into a grin. "I'm just too sneaky for the lot of you."

Now Gwaine barked out a laugh. "Apparently."

Merlin raised a hand and ran his fingers through his dark hair. He crinkled his nose as he found it cakey and sticky at some places. Blood had stuck to his hair, clumping it together. How it had even got there was anyone's guess. He sighed softly and let his hand fall back to his lap. Absentmindedly, he trailed a finger over the bruise at his left forearm. It stung, the pain grounding him into reality.

"Merlin?" Gwaine's voice called his attention back to the knight.

He looked up and by now the mirth had left the man's face again. It looked unfamiliar with that serious expression on those handsome features. A pang of regret hit Merlin. He hadn't meant to take the grin from his friend's face. He truly had messed up this time.

"You have to leave," Gwaine said.

Now Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Camelot," the knight insisted. "You need to leave."

The warlock shook his head, "No. I can't."

Gwaine's fingers nervously flexed around the metal bars that he held in a death grip. His voice rough, he said, "Merlin, you cannot stay. Arthur… he won't just let this go. You can't be here anymore."

Merlin sat up straighter and completely ignored the shooting pain from his hurt side. Voice rushed, he hurriedly explained, "You don't understand. I can't. Arthur needs me. This is my duty. I need to make sure that he is protected. That nothing happens to him."

Gwaine crinkled his nose. "Merlin. If this is about some misplaced loyalty, then y-"

"No," he cut over him. "Arthur is meant to do great things. There's an ancient prophecy. It's my duty to ensure that it can come to pass. Peace and prosperity for everyone. Arthur will be the king that unites Albion and brings peace. But he can't do that alone. He needs my assistance. If I leave, I risk that future. Even if Arthur hates me now. He still needs me."

A troubled, almost painful, expression washed over Gwaine's face. He let go of the metal bars of Merlin's cell and started to pace to and fro.

"A prophecy?" he asked weakly.

Merlin nodded hastily. "I could never abandon Arthur."

Gwaine sighed loudly and stopped his pacing. His eyes bored into Merlin and after a moment, he decided firmly,

"I don't care what you say. It still stands: You need to escape."

"And I told you, I won't," Merlin insisted.

He would've crossed his arms in front of his chest if everything hadn't hurt so horribly. Gwaine gritted his teeth and threw him a glare.

"Don't be an idiot," he said. "Look at yourself. Look at what Arthur did to you."

Merlin pressed his lips into a tight line. A dark, empty spot in his chest tugged at him. Arthur had hurt him. Yes, he knew that. Merlin had always known that Arthur hated magic. This wasn't too surprising. He had hoped his friend wouldn't have been so cruel in his anger, but Arthur's anger had not been unexpected.

"He just needs time," Merlin whispered, voice thick. "He'll calm down. Then I'll explain everything to him. He'll understand. Even the thing about Agravaine. I know it. Arthur's still my friend."

Gwaine just stared at him for a moment. A thunderous expression on his face, the knight seemed to be trapped within a difficult decision. Merlin shook his head at the stubborn man. It was the truth. He couldn't leave Arthur. They would get through this. Merlin knew he'd need time to get over the violence. And Arthur needed time to get over the lies. But they would get over it.

"Shit!" Gwaine's curse cut through his thoughts. "Damn it!"

"Gwaine," Merlin tried to calm him. "It's alright. Don't worry. I know Arthur. He's hot-headed, but in the end, he'll see reason."

The knight raked shaky fingers through his hair, a strange look on his face. He cleared his throat. Still, his voice was raspy, as he said,

"Look out the window."

He gestured at the little opening high up in the dungeon wall. Merlin furrowed his brow.

"What?"

Gwaine didn't reply but just stared at him. The empty glint in his eyes prompted Merlin to comply. Gingerly, he got up from his position on the floor. He hissed in pain as he straightened up. His head spun and he felt nauseous. The window was so high up, that even standing, Merlin couldn't see out of it. He stood on his tiptoes and reached for one of the bars. His fingers hadn't yet touched the metal as suddenly a strange, foreboding feeling hit Merlin. His heart started to thunder in his chest. Somehow, he really didn't want to look out that window. This was ridiculous and yet his fingers shook violently as they curled around the metal bar. Irrational panic descended upon Merlin as he clumsily pulled his body up a bit. His injuries screamed at him in pain, but he pushed through. Then, he managed to finally peer out the window.

The sight made his blood freeze over in horror. Merlin couldn't think, couldn't believe his own two eyes, as he stared over the court yard. His vantage point low, he could see everything. The wooden stake. The bundles of twigs piled up high around it. Against the setting sun, the executioner, hard look on his face, stood in the midst of his creation.

"No," the fearful word fell from Merlin's lips.

The pyre was almost completed and he could already hear it calling his name.

Merlin let go of the window's metal bars and crashed down to his knees on the dungeon's stone floor. He yelped as his broken ribs were jostled. Panic flashing through him cold as ice, Merlin pushed himself away from the window and that horrible sight. His eyes were wide with fear as he stared up at Gwaine and pleaded, voice strangled,

"No. He can't… He won't…"

The knight worried his lip between his teeth. The pity in his eyes clawed at Merlin. Gwaine went down on his haunches so he was on eye level with Merlin. His tone was gentle as he whispered,

"I'm sorry, Merlin."

Now the tears brimmed over and ran down Merlin's cheeks. Sobs broke free from him, shaking his whole frame, and he desperately shook his head. This couldn't be happening.

"No," Merlin cried. "Please. I know him… We're friends. Why… why'd he do that? I don't understand."

Gwaine's own eyes were shining with tears now and Merlin couldn't take it. The pain was consuming him and already burned him. Tomorrow, at dawn, everything else would follow.

"He won't let you go," Gwaine told him tonelessly. "I talked with him. I swear to you, I tried. You know Arthur. But I know him as well. He won't budge and he won't show mercy."

Another sob racked Merlin's body as he could see the truth in the knight's eyes.

"P- please…"

Gwaine raised a hand as if to reach for Merlin. But they were too far apart and the bars wouldn't allow Gwaine any closer. Helplessly, the hand fell back to his side.

"Leave," the knight told him. "Flee while you still can."

More tears rolled down Merlin's face and he pushed it into his hands. He couldn't stop crying. The king's hate would see him dead. He wasn't even worth a peaceful death. No, Arthur wanted Merlin to die with pain and fire.

"Merlin, I beg you," Gwaine tried to reason. "You need to leave. Go through the siege tunnels. Get out of the city. Out of Camelot. Please."

Merlin shook his head, tears blurring his eyes. This couldn't happen. Another sob tore from him as he stared at Gwaine. The worry on the knight's pale face was harsh reality. Gwaine opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a rough voice rang through the dark dungeon,

"Oi, what 're you doing 'ere?"

Merlin looked up and saw the guard rushing towards Gwaine, another one hot on his heels. Gwaine shot up from his position on the floor and whirled around to them. He flashed his white teeth in a grin,

"I'm just here to see my friend."

"No visitors," the guard growled. "King's orders. Be gone!"

"Nah," Gwaine said loftily. "Don't think so."

The guards narrowed their eyes at the knight. He pulled a bludgeon from his belt and waved it about.

"Off yer go," the man snapped. "We don't 'ave time for ya."

He swiped at Gwaine, but the knight managed to dance out of range. Anger twisting his face, the guard tried again. With ease, the knight avoided the attack. The second guard, tired of this display, now entered the fray. He lunged at Gwaine and tried to grab him. Gwaine twisted away and smacked his elbow into the guard's side. The man grunted in pain. The other guard used his chance and raised his bludgeon again. This time Gwaine wasn't fast enough. The truncheon hit his shoulder. Gwaine stumbled and now both guards jumped him.

"Damn," Gwaine hissed. "Calm down, ya?"

"Shut yer trap," one of the guards growled.

By now Gwaine's back was pushed into the bars, the guard tightly holding him by the shoulders. Merlin's eyes widened as he saw something glinting in Gwaine's hand. He let it go and it fell down on the floor.

"Fine. Fine!" the knight then exclaimed. "You win. Sheesh. I'm going."

The guards threw him dark looks. Then they manhandled Gwaine away from Merlin's cell. Before he left, though, Gwaine turned his head. Shortly, his gaze met Merlin's. Then, Gwaine was gone and Merlin was alone in his cell again, only his pain stayed. The window still sat threateningly above him and he felt cruel reality bursting from it. Merlin's world twisted around him and collapsed into a nightmare. Arthur would burn him.

His best friend would kill him.

Numbly, Merlin stared at the object Gwaine had dropped. In the dim light, it was hard to make out. Tears still staining his face, Merlin crawled closer. His fingers trembled heavily as they reached through the bars. Then he held a set of keys in his hand. Two rather large, rusty keys lay in his palm and Merlin gingerly ran his index finger over it. He didn't need to test it, he just knew one of them would easily slide into the lock of his cell. The other one would open the heavy door to the dungeon's exit. A small smile curled Merlin's lips. Trust Gwaine to be thorough.

The man didn't know that Merlin didn't really need any keys. Then again, if Gwaine hadn't smuggled these keys to him, Merlin wouldn't have known that there was reason to flee his cell. He'd have continued to wait for the king to come for him, to talk with him… to show mercy. Merlin knelt on the cold floor and stared down at the keys lying in his trembling hand. Tears still rolled down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime and blood on his skin.

.+.

'So all the atoms, being small bodies, are without qualities, and the emptiness is some place in which all these bodies, carried up and down through all eternity, either are entangled with each other somehow, or strike against each other and rebound and separate and again are compounded into each other in such unions-'

Gaius stared down at De elementis secundum Hippocratem. The treatise's words, well known to him, now blurred before his eyes. Gaius' hand shook as he brushed his index finger over Galen's words. Suddenly, he found himself unable to breathe as a brutal, vicious force coiled around his chest. He raised his hand and rubbed it over his tired face. There were no tears. Gaius didn't think he could shed any more. They had dried up in such desperation and grief that the physician thought he might burst from it. If he could fall into that emptiness, he would welcome it.

He hadn't believed it. He could not. Not until he had seen the pyre built down in the courtyard. He knew it, deep in his heart, this was not how Merlin's story was supposed to end. Never had Gaius met such a bright, such a kind-hearted boy. Merlin had sacrificed so much, had suffered a lot, but never had he lost that wonderful smile of his. He did not deserve this. If only, Gaius could go and see him one last time. He doubted he could provide much solace, but he wanted nothing more than to be with his boy.

"No."

Gaius' voice echoed empty through the physician's chambers. He should not think this way. Merlin had escaped execution once before. When he had been trapped in Dragoon's body, the boy had got away from the pyre's cruel flame. Merlin could do so again. The boy was resourceful. If anyone could escape the king's wrath, it would be Merlin. It must be.

"Gaius?"

The old physician looked up, not having noticed anyone enter. Sir Gwaine stood by the door. The knight lacked his characteristic grin and instead eyed Gaius with a solemn expression on his face.

"Sir Gwaine," the physician greeted. "Come in and close the door."

The knight checked the corridor, first left then right, before he entered and diligently closed the door shut. Gaius waved a hand at the chair across from his at the table.

"Did you see him?" he barely managed to ask around the lump in his throat.

"Yeah," Gwaine replied roughly.

The physician sagged a bit forward and had to steady himself against the table. He stared at the knight with wide eyes.

"The keys?"

Gwaine nodded. "He has them."

A shuddered breath escaped Gaius' lips before he whispered hoarsely, "A ray of hope at least."

The knight inclined his head again. There were dark rings under his eyes. They stood harshly against the pallor of his skin. Gwaine ran an erratic hand through his long hair while he numbly gazed at Gaius.

"He's…" the knight stuttered, voice thick. "At first, he didn't want to leave… Arthur."

Gaius bit the inner side of his cheek as a wave of sorrow washed over him. That pain was mirrored on Gwaine's face as he continued softly,

"He thought that Arthur would forgive him. He'd convinced himself that they were still friends…"

The physician nodded glumly. His heart clenched as he imagined Merlin in a cell, alone and realising that Arthur had truly forsaken him. An angry growl fell from Gwaine's lips and he let his face drop into his hands.

"Fuck!" the knight cursed. "Damn it all to hell!"

Normally, Gaius would've admonished him for that language. At this point, though, he was inclined to agree. Through his fingers, Gwaine peered at him and hissed,

"You didn't see him, Gaius. Shit! I told him. I told him of the pyre. He had no idea. And it bloody well broke him."

Gaius folded his trembling hands and carefully placed them on Galen's book. He wished he could wrap his arms around Merlin instead and hold him close. If only he could drive away the boy's pain and heartbreak. Instead he was condemned to sit and wait. He felt disgustingly useless. Abruptly, Gwaine sat up again. There now was fury blazing in his brown eyes as he fumed through gritted teeth,

"He told me… Merlin told me about Agravaine. He was a fucking traitor. And Merlin tried to protect everyone. Always. Didn't he? Without Merlin that sorceress would've killed Arthur."

Gaius inclined his head, feeling his heart settle heavy in his chest. Gwaine released a colourful curse and slammed is fist on the table top.

"How?!" the knight growled. "How can Arthur treat Merlin this way? How can that bastard live with himself?!"

"Gwaine," the physician rebuked automatically. "He's still your king."

"No!" the knight snapped, vitriol dripping from his voice. "Such a man is no king of mine."

While Gaius could not conjure the hate that he saw raging in Sir Gwaine, he could, at the very least, understand it.

.+.