Merlin blinked. The world swam into focus, slowly. Merlin was rather surprised to see it coalesce from a meaningless blur into only slightly fuzzy outlines and shapes. Blurriness was the last thing he remembered, that and blackness and pain.

He didn't hurt anymore, either, he didn't think. He wiggled experimentally. Nothing too bad. He was stiff and unimaginably sore, like he might be after one of Arthur's more sadistic training sessions, but nothing seemed especially injured.

Merlin moved a little more, then stopped as he realized that his head was resting on a sleeping Arthur's legs. On the kneecap, actually. Right on the bone. Merlin couldn't imagine that was comfortable for Arthur. It certainly wasn't for Merlin.

Merlin grunted and began trying to push himself upright on trembling arms. There was a gasp, and Arthur's kneecap dug into the small of Merlin's back. Merlin yelped weakly and lurched forward, only to be caught by Arthur, who was suddenly very much awake.

"Merlin!"

"Yes," Merlin said softly, voice hoarse. He wasn't sure who else he would be. He made to pull away and suddenly, he was pressed against Arthur's shoulder, Arthur's arms tight around him.

"You're alive," Arthur whispered, and then equally quickly Merlin found himself held at arms length, seeing Arthur beaming happily through the half-healed bruises that mottled his face.

Merlin had no idea what had happened. Between the blurry fading he remembered from when he was strapped to the table and now, he knew that something terrible must have occured. Otherwise Arthur wouldn't be so worried. Otherwise he wouldn't still be holding Merlin like he was worried Merlin would fall apart. But Merlin had no sense at all of what had happened to Arthur since then. He didn't even know how long it had been.

"I'm...I'm alright," Merlin said softly, voice still raw from disuse. He needed some water, as soon as Arthur was willing to let him go to get it, but he wanted to clarify somewhat what had happened first, and Arthur was acting strange enough that Merlin wasn't entirely convinced he was alright.

This seemed to calm Arthur down some. Merlin watched him swallow hard and visibly pull him together, then he gave Merlin one last pat on the shoulder and let him go. For a split second the world reeled around Merlin, but he managed to orient himself and stay more or less sitting up. He was weak, and more exhausted than he'd possibly ever been in his entire life, but he was certainly alive, and at this point that had to count for something.

"You've been asleep for about a day and a half," Arthur said, answering Merlin's unspoken question. "Maybe two days now."

"Do you know...what happened?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. "Not exactly. They gave you...something. I don't know exactly what it was supposed to do. Maybe make you more suggestible. But they...gave you too much. I thought it was killing you, and I think they did too. They were actually really worried, enough that they brought you to me. We didn't give you anything, I think you just pulled through on your own. But it-"

Arthur broke off. But Merlin had watched Arthur come very close to death a number of times, so he had a pretty good idea of what Arthur wasn't saying. But it was still so terrifying I don't have the words for it. But it still hurt more than I thought that something could. But it still feels like I can't breathe.

Merlin knew that Arthur would be embarrassed to say those things, and he would never make him. But he did understand.

"Why...didn't they just let me die?" Merlin asked. It was one thing to let the prisoners live, although at this point he wasn't even sure why they were doing that. It seemed another thing to try to save him, and it sounded from what Arthur said like they had.

"I don't know," Arthur said softly, the slightly haunted look coming back into his eyes. "They just came in with you and told me to do something. That I had to keep you alive."

Merlin shook his head, mystified. There was something here, something that was tickling the back of his brain, something that if he could only grasp it might change everything….

"What kind of cult wants to sacrifice someone, tortures twenty men to find out who, but who's worried over collateral damage along the way?" Arthur mused aloud, and just like that, Merlin felt everything click into place.

"Solaris," he gasped, and Arthur was looking at him uncomprehendingly.

"There was an ancient society," Merlin began. "The Cult of the -"

"Sun God," Arthur finished. "Of course. They worshipped Solaris, and human sacrifice was an important part of their creed."

"But if they killed someone who wasn't marked for sacrifice, then they wouldn't be allowed into the afterlife," Merlin added. Arthur was staring at him again.

"How do you know all of this?" Arthur asked, looking at Merlin with a mix of admiration and disbelief, and it was so thoroughly Arthur, the first glimpse Merlin had seen in weeks, that he forgot to be offended by the tone.

"Gaius asked me to do research on different religions' traditions of healing," Merlin explained. "The book mentioned the Cult of the Sun God, I can't believe I didn't remember them sooner…."

"Well, you were being tortured," Arthur said, somewhat wryly. "I suppose I'll let it go this once. Besides, I didn't remember, either."

"You barely remembered your own name," Merlin told him, suppressing a shudder at the memory.

Arthur grimaced slightly, absentmindedly rubbing at the half-healed scar over his eyebrow. "So we know it's the Solaris cult. There has to be something we can use there."

Merlin nodded his agreement, wracking his brains to come up with any more information. Nothing was coming to mind, but that didn't stop him from already feeling better than he had since they'd been taken almost two weeks before. He and Arthur would figure something out.

Arthur looked at Merlin, unable to believe he was really alive. He had been so sure that Merlin was going to die, and now here he was breathing, and sitting up, and talking to Arthur like everything was normal. He was so relieved it almost hurt, and even though he would never allow himself to really express how thankful he was that Merlin was okay, he was worried that if he looked at Merlin for too long he was going to burst into tears.

At least they knew where they were being held now, which must mean...something. It must be able to help somehow. Arthur wasn't sure how, exactly. But he was glad they knew, because every piece of information had the potential to be helpful. And at the very least, it was a big weight taken off his shoulders, to know that his men weren't at risk of dying. Even if it took them another month to figure out some way to get out of here, he knew that they could spare it.

Not that he wanted to. His men were getting tortured because of him, and he didn't want that to go on a second longer than it absolutely had to.

Merlin was sitting in relative silence, staring off into space. For a second Arthur worried that he was in pain again, but he knew Merlin's pain face and this wasn't really it. This was Merlin's thoughtful face.

"What are you thinking about?" Arthur asked.

"I…." Merlin trailed off, as if he had forgotten he was supposed to even be responding to Arthur.

"Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head slightly. "I remember that the sacrifices are bled out on a table, which makes sense. I think I saw the table, it's in that big room where they put us all on the first day. I don't think you would remember. But I don't...I don't see how that would help us."

"Anything else?" Arthur asked, hoping maybe by keeping Merlin talking he could prompt his memory into giving them something useful. He also knew that cult Merlin was talking about, although he wasn't sure he would have been able to connect it on his own. He tended to try to stay up-to-date with all of the different religions that were active in Camelot, even if it was only a very small sect. He'd heard of Solaris, but as far as he knew the religion had so few active members it was barely worth his consideration. He didn't think there were more than a dozen or so high priests, maybe a few hundred followers. He never would have expected them to try to pull off something like this. Until now, he had thought they had stopped sacrificing humans generations ago.

"They...they're in the southern part of Camelot," Merlin said.

"Yes," Arthur said. He knew that as well.

Merlin's eyes suddenly lit up. "And they have a temple! Or at least, they had one, during their heyday. It was a pyramid."

Arthur looked around at the stone walls surrounding them, sloping up and away ever so slightly diagonal. "This looks like a pyramid."

Merlin looked even more excited. "If it is the same pyramid, then it has tunnels stretching out to the countryside beyond. They were built partially so the cult members could come and go in secret, and partially as a runoff system for the blood from the sacrifices. Which could mean-"

"We have an escape route," Arthur finished. "Now all we need is a plan."

Merlin watched, heart racing, as the knights were brought into the room and gathered into the center. He could feel Arthur beside him, equally tense. The cult filed in on either side and lined up along the walls, bird masks implacable and threatening.

Eventually, the last knight limped into the room and sunk to his knees. A hush fell over the assembled men as the High Priest stepped forward.

"Who is Arthur?" he asked, without preamble. Merlin shuddered, and Arthur rose to his feet unsteadily beside him. The High Priest turned the bird mask towards Arthur and waited.

"I am," Arthur said, his voice strong and clear. Merlin had known this was coming, and he still felt his stomach churn and his breathing quicken. Arthur repeated himself. "I am Prince Arthur of Camelot."

The men hadn't believed him the last time he'd said this, Merlin knew. But this time, Arthur was standing in front of his men, and the reaction was clear. Merlin could tell that the knights were trying to hide their horror and shock at Arthur's words, but they simply weren't able to contain the emotions. A few of the men gasped, a few shook their heads frantically, and most of the knights just looked stricken. All in all, it clearly left the cult in no doubt of who the true Crown Prince was.

The High Priest nodded, and a few of the cloaked figures melted out of the ring and began moving toward Arthur. He stood tall, waiting for them to arrive.

"No," Merlin heard one of the knights whisper softly, but it was too late. The worshippers of Solaris reached Arthur and grabbed him, roughly wrenching his arms behind his back. Merlin was the only one close enough to hear the sharp intake of breath from Arthur as his still-healing shoulder was pulled roughly out of joint again, the only one who could hear his ragged breathing as the men pulled him away, towards the terrible stone table in the center of the room.

The knights were deathly silent as Arthur was dragged from their ranks, watching in utter horror as what they had sacrificed so much to avoid unfolded before their eyes. Merlin was silent too, the sound of Arthur's jagged gasps still filling his ears. But he had a job to do.

Merlin turned towards the knight closest to him. He wasn't making any particular effort to hide what he was doing, but he knew that he didn't need to. The cult now had what it had wanted, the crown Prince. Merlin and the rest of the knights might as well not have even been there at this point. Every single person in the room had their eyes locked on Arthur.

Including the knight. Merlin had to nudge his shoulder gently to get him to realize that Merlin wanted his attention. The first time Merlin did it, the knight didn't even notice, and Merlin started to panic. The two men on either side of Arthur had gotten him most of the way to the stone table, and once he was there they really wouldn't have much time at all. Merlin obviously needed Arthur as a distraction, but he didn't want him to actually get sacrificed. He didn't want him hurt at all.

But finally, the knight turned his attention towards Merlin, and Merlin started whispering frantically in his ear. "On my signal, we all need to start fighting. There's a tunnel, back left corner. We can use it to escape. I'll get Arthur. Tell the person next to you."

Merlin reminded himself to thank Arthur for all the time spent training his knights, because the second the knight realized that there was a real plan with a real chance of success, Merlin could see his entire demeanor shift. Immediately, he became ready to do whatever it took to help the group escape. His eyes became alert and ready for battle, and even though he had no weapons, Merlin saw his hands tighten on his legs. Immediately, he turned to the knight next to him and started spreading Merlin's message.

Arthur was at the table now. Even from here, Merlin could see that he was terrified. He was obviously trying to hide it, since all his knights were looking at him and Arthur was nothing if not a leader. But Merlin could see that he was far paler than he'd been in the cell when they'd come up with the plan, and his hands were clenched into fists, which meant he was trying to hide them shaking. As Merlin watched, one of the men pressed on his shoulder, forcing him to sit, then eased him backwards and adjusted him on the table. Arthur didn't make a sound this whole time, didn't make a single move to resist what was happening to him. It made Merlin's heart hurt to watch.

Merlin winced as one of the men yanked Arthur's bad shoulder straight out alongside him and fastened it down onto the table. Arthur winced, too, but managed to keep from making a sound. Merlin could hear the knights whispering beside him, but his whole world had tunneled to the sight of Arthur lying still on the stone slab.

The High Priest approached, came to a stop above Arthur's head. One of the acolytes gave him a knife, a wicked looking thing with a jagged blade, stained slightly brown with what Merlin hoped was only rust.

The High Priest raised the knife, beginning to chant. Merlin watched spellbound, itching for action, hoping desperately that the knights were ready. He wanted nothing more than to move now, Arthur was in danger, but he knew that they needed every man they could in the attack. They had to wait.

And then the High Priest brought the blade down, and Merlin realized it might be too late after all.

Arthur stared up at the ceiling, which came to a point somewhere far above his head. There wasn't much else he could do, strapped to the table. The High Priest was chanting something, waving a nasty-looking knife that Arthur very much hoped he wouldn't get a chance to use.

He wouldn't, Arthur told himself. Merlin was telling his knights the plan, and they were going to surprise the cult and they were going to escape.

The High Priest's chanting reached a crescendo, and Arthur watched wide-eyed as the knife came down. The dagger bit into his right wrist, slicing deep, and the priest dragged the blade up his arm almost to the elbow.

Arthur managed to turn the whimper that was trying to escape into a small moan, and then he felt the blood welling through his fingers and dripping onto the floor, and he didn't care quite so much about the whimper anymore. The High Priest was moving around to his other side, raising the knife again. Arthur didn't have much longer.

He hoped his men would escape. And Merlin, of course. This had been a bit of a long shot as it was, and he'd known the danger. But he wanted his death to be worth something. If Merlin could just get away….

And then the High Priest was bringing the blade down on Arthur's left wrist, and Arthur closed his eyes waiting for the cold bite of steel but it never came. He blinked, then blinked again, then blinked a third time, and finally the blurry face of Merlin swam into focus.

"Merl'n," he mumbled. He tried to sit up, disoriented, and was confused when his arms and legs met resistance. Right. He was still strapped down.

"Whoa," Merlin said. Merlin's hand was pressing on his shoulder now, holding him still. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"I-"

He turned his head to the side, bleary eyes not wanting to focus properly. The priest who had had the knife was lying crumpled next to the table. There were no other knights around, so Merlin must have done that...somehow. Arthur couldn't even begin to guess how he'd managed it, as far as Arthur knew his servant hadn't even gotten hold of a weapon, but that didn't really matter. All that mattered was that the plan had worked. They had their shot to escape, and it was now.

"Hey," Merlin said gently, pushing him down again. "Stop trying to move."

Arthur hadn't realized he'd been trying to move until Merlin said it. He stilled under Merlin's hand.

"I-"

He was still having a hard time forming words. He wasn't struggling to think, at least, not as much as last time. With the concussion. Some still. He was...he felt like he was half -asleep. Like his mind wasn't quite attached to his body anymore. Floating somewhere up above him, watching himself detachedly. No wonder he couldn't quite form words.

And now Merlin was cutting through the leather straps binding his wrists to the table. He heard a muttered curse, and rolled his head across the stone to look at what Merlin was doing. He was working on his right arm, but there was...something wrong. His arm didn't look right. It was all covered in red, so much that it was pooling in his palm. Merlin's hands were slick with it.

"My arm," Arthur muttered. To his own ears, his voice sounded sleepy. Was he sleepy? He thought he might be. His eyelids were very heavy. And everything still felt very far away.

Merlin was down by his feet now, cutting the straps. And then Arthur blinked, and Merlin was up by his head again, talking urgently to him with words that didn't make sense.

"I'm gonna get you up now," he was babbling. "Come on, I'm just going to...I'm gonna help you sit up-"

Arthur tuned Merlin out to focus on the strange painful numbness in his arm for a moment, and then Merlin was sliding a hand beneath his shoulders and hauling him into a sitting position. The world took a dizzying tilt around Arthur, and for a moment he was worried he would be sick. But then Merlin's hands were on his shoulders, which settled everything a little bit, and Arthur nodded to show that he was okay.

Merlin grabbed his arm, the right one again, and Arthur moaned in protest as pain shot through his entire being. Merlin muttered something that might have been an apology, and then Arthur felt something being wrapped tightly around his wrist.

"Come on," Merlin said again, and Arthur responded to the urgency in his tone before he understood the words. He let Merlin pull him to his feet, and had to immediately close his eyes as the world danced sickeningly around him. He thought he was going to fall for a moment, and then Merlin's arm was securely around his waist and he felt a little more like he was standing on solid ground. Merlin pulled him forward, and Arthur kept his eyes closed and let Merlin lead him.

Merlin glanced sideways at Arthur. The prince's face was mere inches from his own, pale and drawn with pain. Merlin pulled Arthur a little closer and stumbled the last few steps into the tunnel. The rest of the knights swarmed in behind him, shutting the concealed door with a weighty thud.

Merlin felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled round as best he could, hauling Arthur with him. He found himself faced by Sir Leon, one of Arthur's most trusted knights. He gestured to Arthur, who was draped limply against Merlin's shoulder.

"Do you need any help?" Leon asked. Semi-consciously, Merlin shifted Arthur's weight to a more comfortable position. Arthur moaned slightly in response to the movement.

Merlin didn't want to let go of Arthur. That might be stupid, he knew, but he'd spent the last two weeks in a constant state of panic that Arthur could die at any second. Now they were one step closer to freedom, and Merlin was afraid to let go of Arthur. If he could feel Arthur breathe, then Arthur had to keep breathing.

"I've got him," Merlin finally answered. "I'm worried about the rear…."

"I'll watch our backs," Leon said instantly. He turned to leave, then paused and clasped Merlin on the shoulder. "We're going to make it out, Merlin. It was a good plan."

Arthur hauled his head off Merlin's shoulder and nodded heavily at Leon, then looked vaguely panicked and shut his eyes tight once again. Merlin winced.

The wound in Arthur's arm was...bad. He had been to slow to give all the knights the message, and too slow to give them the signal. He had stood up just as the knife was coming down on Arthur's arm, and though he'd luckily been able to knock out the high priest before he could slice open Arthur's second arm, Merlin was still worried it might be too late. The long, jagged wound stretched from his wrist nearly to his elbow, and even though almost ten minutes had gone by, the bleeding showed absolutely no sign of slowing. His entire right side was coated in red.

And worse, he was already showing signs of blood loss. He was completely unable to stand on his own, and seemed barely able to stand with Merlin taking most of his weight. He was trembling, and his skin was cold to the touch. Merlin hooked his arm a little tighter around Arthur's waist, pulling him closer. He hoped the Prince would be able to share some of his body heat, and the shivering would ease.

Merlin knew he needed to stop as soon as possible, and get the wound bandaged up. If he couldn't get the arm dressed, there was every chance that Arthur would die. Ideally, they would have a second to rest, Arthur would pass out, and Merlin would be able to use magic on him. But as it was, all they could do was run. Merlin didn't have time to do more than use his own arm to keep Arthur's wound pressed tight to his stomach and hope that the pressure would be enough to stop the bleeding.

Merlin forced his eyes away from the Prince. They were in the tunnel system now, and there was only barely enough light for him to make out the faces of the knights, watching him for instruction. Merlin's throat tightened. He was no leader. And as much as he wanted this plan to work, he barely knew his way around the tunnels. He had seen an image of them once before, nearly a year ago, and that was all. He knew he was Arthur and the knights' only hope now, but that didn't make him feel very ready.

He realized that even if Arthur were awake, Merlin would still be the one who had to lead. Arthur had never seen the diagram of the temple, and he had been trusting Merlin to get them through the escape right from the start. Arthur's implicit faith in him made him feel a little better, and Merlin swallowed hard and straightened up a little, taking note of the three branching tunnels leading off the main one and trying to orient himself.

"This way," he said firmly, gesturing to the right. He started half-running in that direction, moving as quickly as he possibly could with Arthur's dead-weight pressing heavily into his side. Behind him, he heard the shuffle of the knights starting to run as well. The clatter of boots filled the tunnel, and Merlin let the sound spur him onward, hoping they were headed in the right direction.