trigger warnings for implied/discussed sexual assault, and torture
When Em came to, he didn't dare open his eyes. He kept his breathing easy, steady. He listened closely, as Ruadan had taught him to do. Water dripped, and he heard faint footsteps and shouting. They were being kept underground somewhere, then. Perhaps a cave…?
He recognized that his captors spoke the Saxons' tongue, but he had never learned it. So that offered him no help.
He felt a warm presence pressed against his left side. It had to be Adelina. Em felt a heavy, cold presence on his wrists as well. They had chained his wrists. With a sinking suspicion, he reached into his magic and tried to use it to warm himself. Nothing happened.
The cuffs had dampening spells on them. They must have cost a fortune.
He felt no pain. That was something, at least.
Knowing he had learned all he could without his sight, he tentatively opened his eyes.
Adelina was indeed huddled close to him. She slept fitfully, twitching every now and again. Her dress was torn and filthy, and she wore no shoes. Looking at his own feet, Em cursed. How had he not noticed that his brand new boots were missing? Those bastards. He was going to kill them.
They were in a small side chamber off a larger cavern. Someone had fitted crude iron bars across the entrance. Twisting around, Em saw that his cuffs connected to chains padlocked to rings screwed into the cave wall.
A boy around Gilli and Alvarr's age stood guard on the other side of the bars. In Em's humble opinion, it seemed like a useless job. They were chained up and locked in a cell, for Nature's sake. The boy locked eyes with Em. He was dark-eyed and wild-haired. His brown-black locks reached his chin. His face was bruised—his lip was split and his eye blackened.
Em scowled at him, and the boy merely smiled.
"The Druid boy's awake," the boy called in Common. Em was at least grateful for the fact that the boy spoke in his native tongue.
"Is he now?" A large redheaded man, followed by the blue-cloaked mage, came to join the boy by the cell bars. "He's a scrawny, dirty urchin. Hardly what I'd expect of a mage-boy. He's more of your stock, Gwaine."
The boy set his jaw and said nothing. Em almost felt bad for him.
"So, Druid"—Em hated the way he used it as an insult—"what do they call you?"
Em said nothing.
The redheaded man rattled the bars. Adelina stirred a bit at the harsh sound. Lie still, Lina, Em said. She did. "Are you dumb, boy? What do they call you?"
Em remained silent.
The man repeated his question in the Saxon tongue. At least, that's what Em figured he did. He didn't understand a word of the language.
"Perhaps he only speaks the Druid tongue, sir," Gwaine suggested. The redheaded man glared at him, and he shrank back a little. It seemed the redhead did not inspire loyalty from his followers then. No surprise there—he was a hulking, smelly brute. All Em could smell was the man's stench.
"Mr. Jarl," the mage said in a high, reedy voice. "The boy could be right. He was definitely born after the Purge. He probably grew up isolated in Druid camps. He would have never had any reason to learn Common, or the Saxon tongue."
Jarl clicked his tongue. "Then he's stupid." How eloquent, Em thought. "So, Druid boy, can you understand me?"
Em maintained his blank stare. He let his eyes widen.
Jarl suddenly kicked the bars. He wheeled around to face the mage. "How the hell are we supposed to get answers from a whelp who can't even understand our language?" he roared.
Em pressed himself up against the wall. Perhaps feigning ignorance hadn't been the safest route to take. If the man found out Em was lying… The consequences could be dire.
"My name is Merlin," Em spoke with a faked Druid twang in his voice. Finally, his mother's pet name for him was being put to good use.
"So you aren't a lackwit," Jarl said, pleased. "What of your companion—what's her name?"
"Emlyn," Em lied smoothly. He hoped his father's long-dead half-sister wasn't mad he was using her name.
"Do you know why we have brought you here, young Merlin?"
Em shook his head.
"Information."
The sarcastic side won over the self-preservationist one. "And here I thought it was because you needed someone other than that sniveling rat at your side to cast spells for you."
The mage's face turned very, very cold. He held his tongue, though.
"There's a man I'm looking for."
Em rolled his eyes and tucked his shaking, shackled hands under his legs. "There're lots of men in the world. I'll need you to be more specific."
"A Dragonlord."
Em went still.
"Ah, so you know him."
"I've met a few Dragonlords in my time," Em said slowly. He was going to be one.
"He's called Radley."
Em shrugged, secretly relieved. "Never heard of him."
"I believe your people call him Ruadan."
He tried not to react. "Ra—Ruadan," he repeated, as if the name seemed strange to him. "Never heard of him, either."
"I heard rumors he had a little group of students holed up in the forest somewhere for years. You see, I have some unsettled business with ol' Radley, so my lads and I went to investigate, and they were gone by the time we got there. We pursued them, but lost the trail. That bastard and his students killed three of my lads. Do you happen to know anything about that?"
"No," Em said breathlessly.
"His students…Two boys, and two girls, I believe. The younger boy and elder girl are around the ages of you and your girlfriend here."
Em's face reddened. "She's not my girlfriend!" he hissed. "And I don't know any Radley or Ruadan whatever the hell his name is!" Adelina shifted the tiniest fraction. Lie still, Lina.
Jarl laughed. "Very well, young Merlin. I'll give you until the morning to decide whether or not you want to cooperate. Tell your girlfriend she can stop faking sleeping." With that, he turned around and went to the larger part of the cave. The mage followed close behind, like a well-trained dog.
Em cursed silently. Adelina opened her eyes and sat up. Tears welled up in her eyes. What are we going to do, Em?
Em wanted to say he had a plan, or that Will and Balinor and Alvarr and Iseldir would come and save the day. But he didn't like lying. I don't know.
She closed her eyes. I'd rather die than tell them anything about Ruadan.
We may not have a choice. Besides, Lina, we don't even know that much—only that the Dragonlord Elders wanted him to return.
Let's not tell them unless they force us.
Force us?
You know, torture it out of us. I think that Jarl bastard would enjoy it.
Em shuddered. That's gruesome talk, Adelina.
It's the truth, Emmy. We have to be prepared for the worst.
Em was about to reply when he realized… He and Adelina had been mind-speaking this whole time and he hadn't tried to call for help telepathically yet. He shared this with Adelina, who looked equally pissed with herself.
Em tried to send his magic out searching for his family members' magics, but he couldn't get it to extend beyond the bars of the cell or the cave walls. He had a second realization—the magic cuffs would not let him mind-speak over long distances.
As that last glimmer of hope died, Em felt bitter tears rise into his eyes. How had he let this happen? He was fourteen, practically a man. He should have been able to protect his sister. He was an extremely powerful sorcerer, and had been trained in sword-fighting. A short sob of despair escaped from his throat.
The youth standing guard shot him a look. Of pity or disgust, he couldn't tell.
"It's Merlin, isn't it?" he asked softly in Common.
Em just stared at him.
"I'm Gwaine," the boy said. "You're a Druid. I've never talked to one before. Where I'm from, you would've been killed on sight."
"That's probably why you've never talked to one of us before," Em said as dryly as he could. "You're from Camelot, I presume, Gwaine?"
"No. I hail from Caerleon."
"How'd you end up so far from your motherland, Carleonian?"
"It's hardly my motherland. It's a stinking cesspit, full of murderers and thieves. I wish I'd left sooner."
"Yet somehow you ended up among more murderers and thieves," Adelina said in a low voice.
"Don't assume you know anything about me," Gwaine warned.
"I don't, nor do I want to," she replied sweetly.
"I just wanted to tell you… Jarl, my master there, he won't do anything to you. If you tell him what you know, that is."
"How generous of him," Em drawled. "So you're his slave, then, since he's your master?"
"I'm his servant," Gwaine said. "Are you an idiot? Only savages have slaves these days."
"My point exactly," Em said.
Gwaine scowled. "I shouldn't even be talking to you. You're a prisoner, and too cheeky for your own good."
Em glanced past the boy, watching Jarl and his goons drink in the main cave chamber. "What are you gonna do, run and tell Master?"
Don't agitate him too much, Emmy, Adelina said. It could turn out really bad.
Gwaine only chuckled. "I have no cause to seek Jarl out."
"Why? Is he the one who knocks you around?" Em jeered.
Gwaine's bruised face tightened in anger. "I won't be the only one getting knocked around if you don't shut up, Druid."
Em rattled his chains deliberately. "If I didn't have these, I would smite you where you stand."
Gwaine laughed. "Go ahead, kid, go ahead."
Em opened his mouth to issue another swift retort, but Adelina said, Don't anger him! Her pleading, desperate panic made him stop. Sighing, he simply moved as close to her as his chains would allow and settled on the ground to sleep. She did the same. They fell asleep like that, pressed together and fearful for the next morning.
Banging against the cell bars woke them up. Em tried to spring to his feet, bleary-eyed and groggy, only to have his shoulders almost dislocated from the force of the chains resisting the motion. He landed hard on his rear. Raucous laughter sounded out, and he screwed his eyes shut in shame.
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Jarl, a couple of his thugs, and the mage staring at him. Gwaine was nowhere to be seen, thank Nature. They grinned at him, leering.
"Ready to answer my questions, Merlin?" Jarl practically purred.
"Go to hell," Em spat.
One of Jarl's men unlocked the door. Jarl and his mage strode in. Em cast his magical sense out and was disgusted to find out his power was far greater than that of Jarl's mage. If only he could remove the cuffs…
Jarl removed Em's cuffs from the chains using a key. One of the thugs hauled Em up by the collar of his shirt. The man gripped his shoulders firmly; for all his struggles, he could not escape his grip. Jarl walked right up to him, until they were nose-to-nose.
"Ready to talk, Druid boy?" he cooed.
Em spit in his face.
Jarl roared in anger. He backhanded Em across the face. Adelina pleaded for him to stop. Jarl's fist collided with Em's chest, knocking the wind out of him. The Druid saw stars and tasted the iron tang of blood in his mouth.
"What do you know about Ruadan?" Jarl asked.
"I don't know him," Em said.
"Bullshit," the mage growled.
"I'll repeat, what do you know about the Dragonlord called Ruadan?" Jarl spoke a bit louder this time. His voice hurt Em's throbbing head.
"Nothing, I swear!" Em insisted.
Jarl shook his head. "It seems young Merlin here has decided to take the difficult route here, lads. You know what that means."
Em started writhing to try and escape the thug who held him up. What were they going to do to him?
They yanked his shirt off his back and chained him to the wall again. Em heard a swishing sound. He twisted his head around to find Jarl holding a leather strap. Em felt his stomach drop. After each strike, Jarl would ask him what he knew about Ruadan. Em said nothing. It happened over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over—
Until finally he collapsed, only held up by the chains. Jarl came closer and tilted his chin up so that their eyes met. "This could stop if you tell me what you know."
Tell him, Em! Adelina begged. Please!
It will get Ruadan killed if I do! Em knew it in his gut.
We don't even know where he is.
Lina, I learned in my studies that the Dragonlord Elders have a keep in the Mountains of Asgorath. If I tell Jarl the Elders called Ruadan back, he'll know exactly where Ruadan is.
Adelina screwed her eyes shut. Nature help us and Ruadan.
When Em still stayed silent, Jarl hauled him back up on his feet and resumed beating him with the strap. After what Em guessed was the fortieth lick, he stopped. He unchained Em from the wall and attached his cuffs to the original chains. Still shirtless, Em could barely keep himself sitting up. Crying softly, Adelina cradled his head. She looked up at Jarl and glared at him. "You monster," she growled. "He's only a boy."
Jarl grinned. "I'd be careful, sweetheart. Your lover boy isn't the only one who has to answer my questions."
Adelina remembered what Em had said about Ruadan possibly dying if they revealed his location to these outlaws. "I dare you to try."
Em wasn't sure how long he and his sister had spent in this living hell. In the morning, Jarl woke them up by banging on the cell bars. He or ones of his thugs would beat Em after the boy inevitably answered their questions. Then they would go off to drink and Nature knew what else. About an hour after his beating, Gwaine would appear with a bucket, rag, some herbs, and a bit of food. He would treat any open wounds. He barely said anything, and Em didn't have the energy to bait him.
In the afternoon, it was Adelina's turn. Em felt his resolve chip away day after day, watching them beat his sister like a dog.
On what he guessed what the ninth day, Em finally broke.
That morning, the mage had used a knife to carve five deep cuts on his arm. He'd been stitched up by Gwaine, and cried from the sheer agony of it. Em was hunched against the cave wall, cradling his arm, when he heard the cell door creak open. He jerked himself up into a sitting position and saw them grab Adelina.
They dragged her out of the cell, kicking and screaming. Em yanked at his chains, demanding for them to bring her back. They ignored him, of course. Em was confused; they always tortured them in the cell, in front of each other. It was part of the mind games their captors tried to play on them.
His head almost exploded when Adelina started screaming across their mental connection. HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY
Over and over and over—
HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY
He rocked back and forth, tears streaming down his face—I CAN'T LINA I CAN'T I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU
HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY
LINA LINA LINA
EMMY
(He wished she would just be quiet.)
HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY HELP ME EMMY—
And then it cut off.
Em screamed her name for what felt like hours. She never responded. He slumped against the cave wall, crying even harder. Was his sister dead? How could he have wanted her to shut up when they were killing her? Poor, poor Lina, who had never had an easy life-
Perhaps he'd be dead soon, too.
He must have fallen asleep, because his eyes snapped open when he heard the cell door open. He looked up hopefully—
There she was, slung over the shoulder of a cross bandit. His precious older sister—not of his blood, but of his heart—alive, safe. Her eyes looked almost glazed over. Her dress, already ruined, was torn even more. She didn't look like she was seriously hurt. Just sluggish, and tired.
Was she… drugged?
"What did you do to her?" Em snarled.
The thug dropped her on the ground and fixed the chains to her cuffs. Silently, he yanked up one of his trouser legs to reveal a disgusting, purple scar in the shape of a hand. "Boss said I could have her for a bit, since the wench burned me leg so bad."
Have her…?
Em's eyes blazed in fury. "What did you do to her?"
And the man told him. Every excruciating detail. Her clothes hid the damage beneath, the man said with pride. He spat on her and said that the sorry whore loved every second of it; she was begging for it.
"She's sixteen," Em whispered.
"Old enough to be my wife," the man sneered. "Now, this is a message from the boss. We'll leave you alone from now on. Instead, I'll get to have my playtime with your special girl here every day. Of course, this little arrangement can be negotiated."
He watched his sister, drugged and shivering and filthy in a jail cell. His sister, who loved her cat Iris, and playing tag with their younger siblings. Who had just had her innocence brutally ripped away by a monster.
Old enough to be my wife… Every day… Can be negotiated…
"I'll tell your boss everything," Em blurted. "On the condition my sister never gets touched again."
The man whistled. "Your sister? I would've never guessed, you two don't look anything alike."
True to his word, Em told Jarl everything.
About Ruadan, his lessons with the Dragonlord, their secret hideout in the woods. How he, Alvarr, Adelina, Freya, and Ruadan had killed three of his men, and then fled to Sabháilte (Jarl already knew the location of it anyway). How the Dragonlord Elders had called his mentor back.
"He never mentioned why they wanted him back?" Jarl demanded. He held a knife to Em's throat.
"No."
"The Dragonlord Elders have a keep in a mountain range to the north," the mage mused. "That would offer the next clue to Radley's whereabouts."
Jarl raised his hand. Em flinched, expecting a blow. However, Jarl only patted his cheek. "Good lad," he whispered. When Em finally sighed in relief, Jarl dealt a crippling punch to the stomach with his fist. "You killed three of my men, though, boy. That calls for some punishment."
"I'll slit his throat," the mage offered. "Or I can burn him alive."
Jarl shook his head. "We'll let him live for now, Thorn. Let him live in fear for a while. However, before we part, I'll give him a little reminder to tell him I will return someday."
He turned to Gwaine, who had been lurking in a corner of the cave. The youth had fresh bruises on his face. "The axe, if you please."
Gwaine grabbed an axe lying on the ground near his feet. He handed it to Jarl silently. Em saw the remorse and silent plea for forgiveness in the youth's eyes. Em offered the tiniest of smiles—I forgive you, he said mentally.
The boy had no magic, though, so he didn't hear Em's silent absolution.
Jarl brought that axe down on his right hand, chopping off most of Em's left pinky finger. A scream tore its way out of his throat, and Jarl shoved the convulsing boy into Thorn's arm. "Heal him and the girl a bit, so they're healthy to travel back to their miserable camp." He crouched down to get to Em's eye level. "I look forward to seeing you again, young Merlin."
Shortly after, Em passed out from the pain.
Gwaine and Thorn drugged him and Adelina after the mage healed their most serious injuries. When then finally came to, they found a piece of parchment with directions how to get back to camp, and a small bag of food and a waterskin. It would take about a day and a half to get back to camp.
They said nothing. They just trudged for hours and hours, only stopping briefly to rest because of their extensive injuries. Adelina's face was more purple and yellow and blue than flesh-colored. Em kept staring at his mangled hand and trying not to cry.
Finally, they must have crossed the magical warning boundary because Em heard horse hooves in the distance when they got closer to the camp. Adelina was almost on the verge of collapse. Em had her lie down in a small clearing. He sat on a fallen log, waiting for the riders.
The riders were no other than Will and Alvarr. They cried out when they saw their siblings, and their wretched condition. Alvarr picked up Adelina like a baby, and Will swung Em over his shoulders. "He's much too thin, Al. He's so light," Em heard his brother mutter.
"I—" Em tried to say.
"Don't talk, save your energy," Alvarr said hoarsely. He sounded close to tears. "I'm glad you're alright. We thought you were dead."
Em closed his eyes. I almost wished I was.
Later on, Em couldn't remember much about his and Adelina's return to Sabháilte. Emery healed them, and Iseldir questioned them for hours about their time spent in Jarl's clutches. His uncle quickly sent a messenger bird to the Dragonlord Keep. Their parents and siblings and Aunt Maud and Cedran cried for hours after they recounted their harrowing tale. Hunith comforted them when they woke up terrified in the night. Freya hardly left their sides.
Things eventually got a little better.
Five months after their capture—Em was now fifteen—Hunith made a comment about how Adelina's stomach had swelled up quite a bit. "It's rare for a farm girl to have such curves, Addy," she teased. That was her special nickname for the girl, rather than 'Lina' as everyone else called her on occasion. "You lucky lass."
It was just them, Em, Sefa, and Maud in the hut. Everyone else was getting ready to watch for the lunar eclipse Iseldir had predicted. So Adelina felt comfortable enough to say, "Yeah, I've been feeling like I've been going through… changes, recently. My bleeding hasn't happened in almost four and a half months."
Maud looked alarmed. "That's not normal, dearie." She laughed when she saw Em blanch. "Don't look so scandalized, Emmy. It happens to all women. You ought to know a little about it, too."
"Will explained it to me when I was twelve, Aunt Maud," Em said with a grimace. "Ain't it supposed to be every month?"
"Yes. That's why I'm concerned." Maud clicked her tongue. "Four and a half months ago, shortly after you got back…" Her eyes widened.
"What, Aunt Maud?" Adelina said in alarm.
"Emmy, go get your móraí." When Em didn't move right away, she glared at him. Em got out of there faster than a bat out of Hades.
After a quick examination and spell, Emery whispered something in Adelina's ear. The girl clapped a hand over her mouth as tears came to her eyes. "Why?" she whispered.
"All children are blessings," Emery said softly.
"Not this one!" Adelina snarled.
Em suddenly understood. He wrapped his arms around his sister, and they stayed that way for a long time.
When Em was a few months shy of sixteen, and she of seventeen, Adelina gave birth in the dead of night. She insisted Em and Alvarr stay with her, despite the Druidic tradition that banned men from the birthing chamber. For ten hours, they and her adopted female relatives and her precious Freya and Finnlagh coached her through the birth.
At long last, Adelina held a tiny little girl in her arms. "She's so beautiful," she said, over and over. One would have never knon she had sunk into a deep depression for months after finding out she was with child. "Look, Ma! She has my sister's eyes."
"Arabella's, or Sefa's?" her adoptive mother asked mischievously.
"Bella's, silly! Although Sefa has the loveliest eyes. I love hazel eyes. Brown's a good color, though."
"Do you have a name for her?" Freya asked, bouncing up and down.
"Little Maudie?" her aunt said with a twinkle in her eye.
"No!" Though exhausted, Adelina let out a little giggle. "All the girls in my family…" She looked around at the people crammed into the small hut, who all wanted to support her—her little Freya, her parents, her six brothers, her little sister, her aunt and uncle, her grandmother. "All the girls in my birth family, their names start with 'A'. So I thought I'd keep the tradition going."
She paused for a moment, and then said thickly, "My girl's name is going to be Astryd—the name of the last Druid queen. May she lead her people to victory and freedom one day."
Everyone erupted into cheers.
A/N: Hey pals! It's been like twelve whole days since I last updated, so I uploaded this behemoth of a chapter. 4435 words, I believe! This was hard to write, I gotta tell you. I'm happy to say in the next chapter or two, we will be meeting Arthur (FINALLY, all of you must be saying; I know it's taken forever).
Special shoutout to Crusted Scone-your happiness about me using Gaelic (or Gaeilge) honestly made my week! I don't know many words-shoutout to Google Translate and Duolingo-but I love Ireland, her people, her history, and her language. My ancestors (like my great-great grandparents or something!) on my mom's side fled Ireland during the famine, so I have a soft spot for Ireland. The Druids were Celtic, so I knew I just had to use Gaelic words for my made-up "Druidic"!
Also want to thank everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed. 75 followers is crazy!
As always, much love and please leave a review if you feel so inclined ~