(A/N)
here's chapter three, i hope you enjoy it! this one's my personal favorite :)
It wasn't only in Camelot, either. Arthur had always seemed to have a reputation throughout the lands, one that strangely transcended that of him being the Crown Prince of Camelot. That fame wasn't always spoken of reverently, however. Alongside the gracious chatter ran bitter flows of jealousy and hatred.
Merlin was sure that some of this was deserved; after all, Arthur was a bit of an ass, particularly before they had met. Multiple people, especially among the lower classes, must hold grudges against him for past slights and derisive comments. Arthur had always been willing to put on a pompous show, whether it be his own indulgent behavior or a mask worn among the comfort of noble acquaintances.
Some of it stemmed from his birth — Arthur would always be Uther's son. Countless people quietly resented the crown, mainly on the basis of Uther's rulings. It could go without saying that anyone among the magical community simmered with some sort of anger or frustration with regards to the Great Purge and the chains surrounding their very identities. Over the years, many people had tried their hand at ridding themselves of those chains in vain efforts to strike Arthur with them. While these outbursts were all based on a public image rooted in Arthur's family, Merlin wasn't quite so sure if the people were wrong yet. He had never been able to gauge where Arthur stood on the whole issue of magic, as evidenced by the fact that Merlin still hadn't revealed his own magic.
Still, he could always tell that something else was going on, some other wheels were turning. He couldn't explain it beyond having a sense that something was in the air, something blew with the wind throughout the kingdom. People seemed to imagine some great future once Arthur took the throne; some seemed to think it would be terrible at the same time. Merlin didn't quite know the extent of it yet, but he could tell when incidents exhibited something beyond mere anger or hatred. A strange current of fear and rancor ran underneath some of the half-witted ploys and bumbled assassination attempts.
One day, Merlin and Arthur were riding out east from Camelot. Officially, Arthur was making a check on the eastern garrisons to bolster defenses against Cenred, but really they were stopping along the way to investigate reports of Morgana which were surfacing around Ealdor's area, mainly in the Forest of Ascetir but some lying beyond towards Merlin's home village. He only hoped that the truth didn't extend that far; Merlin would very much like the danger to not make itself personal to him by threatening his mother. Hopefully, if Morgana was really there, she wouldn't think so much about hurting him as going after Arthur. Although, now that he thought about it, going after Merlin would likely incite a reaction out of Arthur and Morgana would get what she wanted anyway.
Merlin kicked Aurelia a tiny bit (though not too hard because he hated when the knights hurt their trusty horses in a petty, immature race) to get her to gallop a bit faster.
The journey got very quiet as they made their way into the Forest of Ascetir. It almost felt like some darkness was hanging in the air, stifling the conversation as they attempted to cling to the little light that was left. They would need to make camp soon, Merlin realized. They couldn't make it through the forest before night fell, and it would be much safer to stop now and avoid tripping over thick knots of tree roots to make a fire later. He voiced this observation to Arthur, who made a typical comment about Merlin being lazy and continued for a few minutes before stopping at the edge of a clearing.
The two of them dismounted, Arthur leaving his horse for Merlin to tie up along with Aurelia. He paced around with his hands on his hips. Despite the lack of noble company, the pompous aspects of Arthur's usual comportment leaked their way into his natural behavior. Merlin snorted at this, although cut it short as he had to do all of the work now. Per usual.
Arthur sat in silence as Merlin set up camp, dragging over some fallen logs to sit on and laying out their bedrolls. He beat them a bit to make sure there weren't any bugs — he had definitely learned from that mistake when Arthur gave his head a good clobbering — and dragged the larger, comfier one over by Arthur. The man was still sitting wordlessly, staring off into the growing darkness between the trees.
"I'm going to go grab some firewood." Merlin waved his hands a bit in front of Arthur, who didn't react. Merlin pursed his lips in slight annoyance, although he knew the prince couldn't possibly be in a good head space right now. Morgana's betrayal was still fresh in the kingdom's minds, and so was Lancelot's tragic death. Arthur probably needed the time away from the knights to reconcile the new reality regarding the state of the magical war.
Merlin trekked out of the clearing toward the river he had spotted when they were riding. He might as well refill their water now so he wouldn't have to venture out a second time later when it really was too dark to see. He could cast a soft lighting spell, but he didn't want to risk it. Even if it was a simple spell, it would be very evident to anyone who caught sight of the light that he had been using magic when they approached and he didn't have a torch or lantern. He especially couldn't risk it so close to Arthur, who was already on edge as it was. Frankly, the prince could kill him if he discovered Merlin's magic right now, and Merlin wouldn't really blame him.
The animals seemed to take their cue from the Crown Prince of the land as it was fairly quiet as he made his way through the forest. He couldn't even hear any of the pesky crickets that normally interrupted his sleep on excursions such as this one. Merlin frowned at this. It really did feel like a blanket of darkness had seeped its way into the very land of Camelot. He could only hope that that blanket wouldn't suppress all the light-hearted memories he had with Arthur and Gwen and, more recently, the knights. He missed the beginning of his whole journey, when things were simple and relatively easy and people weren't turning evil left and right. On that note, his mind turned to Agravaine. He didn't want to go crazy and paranoid seeing as the guy had just arrived, but what a snake.
A sudden snapping sounded somewhere nearby, and Merlin stilled. He slowed his breathing and tilted his head, trying to determine where the noise had come from. It didn't help that he proceeded to trip over one of the aforementioned knots of tree roots, knocking around a few branches of a bush and rustling the leaves.
Merlin was seriously starting to believe that he had stepped on a stick and tripped afterwards all on his own. He was a huge clutz, as Arthur often pointed out. It definitely wouldn't be the first time it had happened. He pushed his hands against the firm earth, trying desperately and predictably failing not to fill his fingernails with dirt as he lifted his body upwards.
He was almost all the way back up when he went tumbling back to the ground. All he could think as a pain grew in the back of his head was that this time, it definitely was not his fault that he was now sprawled out on the dirt, his temple having collided with yet another tree root. Probably.
Merlin's eyes drifted shut.
Spoiler alert: it was not Morgana.
That much was clear when Merlin cracked his eyes open, trying to discreetly figure out who had captured him without letting them know he was awake. Thankfully, his captor had tied him to a chair, so he could save his energy for the escape. He internally scoffed at this; what with all the times he had been captured, he knew anyone vaguely competent at kidnapping would hang him by his wrists and tire him out. Amateur.
Merlin's internal smirk soon slipped, and he shivered involuntarily. He could feel something slinking around in the air, something evil. His magic reached out around his body and collided with a dark presence near the ropes on his wrists and ankles. Something wasn't right here.
He tracked the dark presence from his bindings to a corner of the room just at the edge of his vision. It made his head pound even harder as he knew moving his head would give away his consciousness, but it was a relief to discover his captor's masculine form. Sure, he looked pretty strong and the dark presence didn't exactly give off an "I'm easy to take down!" vibe, but it would totally be fine, Merlin assured himself. Arthur must be looking for him, after all, and neither of them would really be able to deal with Morgana at this point in time. Although Merlin wasn't entirely sure how to deal with his present situation.
Concerningly, his ears were ringing a bit. No, it wasn't quite ringing, but more of a strange buzzing. He couldn't make out what was causing it, but he chose to focus on the hearing he could manage at the moment. In the background, he heard some kind of muttering, likely from the corner in which his captor was bent over a table.
Alright, so he needed to escape as soon as possible. He didn't really feel like becoming some experiment for a magical lunatic, especially not while Arthur was looking for him. After all, he couldn't sully magic's good name any more in front of the prince, but he also had to not die in that process. Merlin thought this was a very good plan.
Of course, said magical lunatic chose that moment to turn around and make direct eye contact with Merlin. He didn't even bother squeezing his eyes shut and going limp, knowing that the ruse was up.
The despicable man spat the words out, venom laced in his speech and deep hatred intertwined with his anger. His face wrinkled, contorting into a frightful jumble of narrowed eyes and red pigmentation and sharp veins. Afterwards, he stalked closer and closer to Merlin, raising his arms and continuing his spew of hatred. Only, no, wait; the man definitely wasn't talking about Arthur and the Pendragons anymore. No, in fact, he wasn't even speaking English anymore. The rant now seemed to take a foreign, metered form of chanting.
Merlin decided that this definitely was not good. He tried his best to swing back and forth, move the chair backwards to buy some time, but the man was already on top of him, he could feel his breath, hot on his face, spitting saliva everywhere. Merlin wrinkled his nose, but he knew he couldn't let himself get caught up in his disgust. Especially since his chair was now tipping over.
He groaned as his cheek slammed into the cool floor. It was extremely drafty, so he must be near some room on the perimeter of this building. That was good. He had to focus on this bright side seeing as his face was now bleeding into the ground and dirt was most certainly being mashed into the open wound. Better to focus on getting out of here than on the possibility of not making it to Gaius to take care of whatever could have possibly just entered his bloodstream. Crazy people live in pigsties.
Merlin froze. The man was still chanting, but the words no longer sounded foreign. In fact, they seemed to alternate between chunks of two languages that Merlin knew very well. Obviously, he knew English, but, then again, everyone in Camelot did, so the other held a much more serious threat. He definitely had cause for concern in that the tongue of old sorcerers had been shoved into this old coot. It only slightly registered in his mind that these words were probably dark spells being directed at him, particularly since he could have sworn that the old man had just mentioned Morgana.
"The dark witch is right, Arthur is a curse upon this land!" the man yelled frantically, his eyes bulging unbelievably large out of their sockets, his teeth tearing through the air like it was a pan of fruays. Merlin stopped his train of thought for a moment to sniff the non-existent apple bread pudding; subsequently, he realized his mistake and skirted back on track just in time to throw his weight entirely out of the crazy man's path. Objects hitting the wall at that moment included his chair and his head.
The man quickly shifted his gaze in his direction, towering over the warlock. Merlin would try to stop him, but, he had to admit, he was curious; he had no idea what the man was trying to do, and whether it really connected to Morgana's plans or if this man was simply batshit crazy. Besides, Merlin could feel the dark magic swirling with the mysterious breeze in the room, and he wouldn't want to try to counteract something and end up with some horrible rebound.
Perhaps he should have tried something earlier, as waiting was most definitely not the move. The strange wind suddenly slithered towards Merlin, first ripping away the ropes that had bound him to the chair and then creeping underneath his arms. Merlin felt himself being lifted as if by invisible hands, so many of them, each one so forceful that he could not fight back. They dragged his body up by his wrists, which eventually they pushed against the ceiling and the rest of his body hung from there. Merlin wondered for a moment if maybe this man was not an amateur kidnapper or if it was just the intelligence of the magic itself aiming to wear him out. Probably the latter, Merlin thought, as the man stumbled around, still spewing bumbling babble from his mouth.
And then he said it, and time stood still. Why had Merlin been hearing it so much? It had moved beyond a simple title, morphing into some unknowable mass lurking in the shadows of the kingdom. And why had the man said it with so much hate? Why did Merlin not understand any of it, while so many others seemed to know it deeply, deeply enough to feel so strongly about it?
But Merlin had no time to think about the matter further, as at that moment a crashing noise sounded nearby. A window, perhaps? He hadn't even finished running through the logic in his head when Arthur came crashing through the door, having slammed his shoulder against the wood until it broke down (read: he only had to do that once, as Arthur was a crazy beast; Merlin could just magic it open, though, so who was really winning?) and rushed in with absolutely no caution. Ah, friendly concern, how refreshing. His eyes landed on Merlin, who was now swinging precariously from the ceiling above some strange pit that definitely had not been there before.
"MERLIN!" Arthur shouted, uselessly but with passion. Merlin broke out into a smile in complete ignorance of his current predicament; he knew he could get himself out of it, but of course Arthur would just perceive his sudden, happy relief as idiocy. "Merlin, now is not the time for your jokes, watch out!"
Merlin swung himself closer and closer to the crazy man, who for some reason stood chanting at the edge of the pit. Which was growing. Oh no. Maybe there was something to worry about?
Not for long, though, as Arthur had run up to him with his sword, holding it to the man's neck. The guy seemed pretty freaked out, so that was good. What was not good was that Merlin felt himself slipping, probably along with the crazy wizard's concentration.
"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, reaching out a hand. He looked pretty worried. Merlin kept this grin inside his head, though, and instead focused his expression on the wizard.
"Arthur, get out of the way!" Merlin swung himself back and forth with all his strength as if he had the abdominal muscle of a knight. He didn't, of course, he just used his magic to propel his body forward in a way that could conceivably happen if he had any strength whatsoever. When he appeared to have gained enough momentum, Merlin launched himself across the room and kicked the wizard square in the face, timing his breaking of his magical bonds with the second the wizard dropped down cold. Arthur might still think he was an idiot, but Merlin considered himself to be pretty intelligent. It was the only reason he had gotten this far in Camelot with his magic.
The crazy old man lay still in the dirt. Arthur looked down at Merlin, who had slammed into the wall and slumped down, and then back at the man. His head turned back and forth between them.
"Well, Merlin, your clumsiness may have a use after all," Arthur chided, kicking the crazy man over to ensure that he was really knocked out. He shifted his gaze to Merlin and looked at him for a moment, head tilting in thought. As he lifted Merlin to his feet, Merlin could have sworn he saw relief in Arthur's eyes. Well, at this point of knowing each other, he knew that that was what it was. "Care to tell me how you ended up here?"
"I was getting the firewood while you were pouting at camp, remember?" Merlin gave Arthur a pointed look. Obviously it wasn't the prince's fault that there had been a crazy old man in the woods ready to jump him, but he could have been a bit more alert. Merlin usually made a more concrete plan with Arthur about where he was going and for how long, a habit they had developed over the years what with the random assassins and now the growing threat from Morgana. Merlin also suspected that it correlated closely with the strength of their friendship, but Arthur would never admit that, even if Merlin knew that Arthur believed it to be true. "He was just in the woods and he jumped me, and he knocked me out on a tree root."
"A tree root, Merlin?" Arthur asked bemusedly, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He pursed his lips and then smiled. "I would have thought that someone with such a thick skull would be less inept at remaining conscious."
"Hey!" Merlin protested, but didn't press the issue. He would get Arthur back with another jibe later. Right now, he did need to focus on the problem at hand. "Well, I woke up here, and he started doing some weird chanting stuff at me, and then he mentioned Morgana, but I don't really know why because he kept switching languages. He also said you should be murdered a lot, and then he magicked me up in the air, and then you came in. Absolutely no idea what the pit was for."
"He mentioned Morgana? By name?" Arthur's brows furrowed and he placed his hands on his hips, glancing down at the old man. He frowned. "So she has been in this area."
"I don't think he was working directly with her," Merlin responded, thinking back to the man's rudimentary tactics and phrasing about Morgana. "He thought she was some dark queen, but it sounded more like he agreed with her than he was working with her. Like maybe she passed through here and convinced those with magic of her point of view and then moved on. His magic wasn't anywhere near the level of Morgana's, he was kind of just a driveling mess. Oh, and he seemed to think you were some prophetic curse on this land."
"Alright, we'll tie him up here and send some guards to get him once we reach the garrisons." Arthur held his chin up decisively as he made his way toward the busted-down doorway. A silent sigh seemed to pass through him, one which Merlin pointedly ignored. He let the prince turn his stony gaze into the path ahead rather than force him to uphold a mask. "No reason to linger here any longer if Morgana has moved ahead. Besides, my father's men will be expecting us soon. The last thing I need to do is disappoint him when he's in this state."
Merlin nodded solemnly and followed closely after Arthur, sparing one last glance at the crazy old man.
They never did investigate too far into what he had said.
(A/N)
thank you so much for reading! feel free to review or contact me on tumblr sincerelyheere if you just wanna chat!