viii.

Merlin landed in a tangled heap with Arthur, breathless and dizzy. Arthur pushed at him, and Merlin sat up as best he could, but a leg trapped under one of Arthur's prevented him.

"Get off," Arthur hissed.

"Move your leg," Merlin huffed in turn. With some more shoving and grunting they managed to untangle themselves. Merlin popped to his feet, dusting off his shirt as he looked around. Arthur pushed himself up more slowly, still muttering some choice curses.

They were in a dungeon. They stood behind rusted bars, and the only light was through a thin window slant in a nearby staircase. With the afternoon light flooding through, it was just enough to see by. The staircase spiraled up and out of sight in only a few steps. Judging from the mold and dust covering the room, it was an old forgotten place. Yet, the cell door was chained shut with a shiny lock. And the magic—it weighed heavy over Merlin's head, suffocating, fresh, and recently laid.

"Why did you bring us here?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked at him. "I did not do this," he said, voice hushed. Arthur went silent at that, looking around with more scrutiny. The change only lasted a moment.

"Well, take us out of here!" Arthur ordered. Merlin held out his hands and hoped Arthur could not see his uneasiness. Arthur took his hands without a word, holding tighter to them than usual.

Merlin barely got his thoughts through the stone walls before he crashed into something else and ricocheted back to where he had been standing. The force knocked him off balance and this time it was Arthur who held the fairy up as he stumbled.

"What?" Arthur could not prevent the bewilderment in his voice as he steadied the other man. "What happened?"

"You didn't feel that?" Merlin asked. Arthur just gave him a puzzled look. Merlin pulled free of the king's hold and pressed a hand to his head. "There is a strong magic here. It will not let me past." He looked at the door, using the full strength of his magic to will it open. The door rattled but did not budge.

"Oh no," Merlin breathed.

Arthur looked hard at him. "Your magic doesn't work?"

"Such a pity, isn't it?" They whipped around to face a man sitting in a shadowed corner. Merlin knew he had not been there before. "So difficult, to live in this world without magic."

"Gareth!" Arthur hissed. He grabbed onto the cell bars and shook them but, rusted though they were, they did not budge under all his strength. Gareth remained sitting, watching the display with a neutral sort of amusement.

"King Arthur," the man greeted warmly. "I had no idea you had a magical being in your armory."

"I don't," Arthur growled. "He is a friend. I don't use him like a tool."

"Well…" Merlin quipped, his voice raised an octave in disagreement. Arthur threw a glare at him over his shoulder and Merlin tossed his hands up. "You are quite demanding."

"Come with me, fairy," Gareth said, standing. His dark eyes held Merlin's, unwavering and sincere. "I am on your side. Humans encroach on your land, they build cities and destroy the very foundation of magic. If we let it continue, you, and all others like you, will perish. Magic will be whatever tattered remains are left behind of the wasted forests."

"What is he talking about?" Arthur asked, scowling at Merlin, but the fairy did not acknowledge him or his question. He stared back at Gareth, his face unreadable.

"Join us, and we will stop this madness before it can ruin the earth further." Gareth held out a hand, though he was not close enough for Merlin to take it. The fairy contemplated it, and for a fearful moment Arthur thought he would accept. Then he spoke, his voice so cold and dangerous that Arthur's hair stood on end.

"You are the one using blood magic," Merlin said. "You are the one who corrupted the Dryad."

"Yes," King Gareth said, dropping his hand and returning Merlin's coldness with the same demeanor. "I will do what must be done. Sacrifices must be made for the good of many. I was hoping you would not be one. Alas." He shook his head in sorrow and turned away. As his image faded, another appeared. This one shimmered to life inside the cell. As astonished as Arthur was to see King Gareth disappearing before his very eyes, he turned to see whatever monster he would need to face next.

Gwaine stood tall and silent as he surveyed the two before him.

"Gwaine!" Arthur gaped at his friend. "You're alive!" He had no time to act on his elation. The knight drew his sword and raised it above Merlin. "Don't, he's with me!" Arthur exclaimed. Merlin dove from Gwaine's strike and the sword rang as it collided with the stone floor.

"It's not him!" Merlin yelled to Arthur. "He is not who he was! Cut off his head!" Arthur stared at Merlin in horror. He could not fathom killing his best knight—his best friend. Gwaine turned, his movement clumsy, and walked towards Merlin again.

Arthur drew his sword, but hesitated. Merlin scrambled backwards, helpless without his magic, as Gwaine advanced on him. He raised his sword above Merlin. Arthur jumped in front of the blow, catching it with his own blade. He shoved the other man's sword to the side and Gwaine stumbled. "Gwaine, please!" he pleaded. Gwaine straightened again and heaved his sword back up. "I know you're in there somewhere!"

"Arthur, he's not," Merlin said through grit teeth. "Your friend is dead. This isn't him. You need to kill this thing."

Gwaine turned his attack to Arthur now, slicing at him. Arthur caught the strike with ease and tossed it aside again. "So I can't kill your precious Dryad but I'm supposed to murder my friend?" Arthur hissed over his shoulder at the fairy.

"That's not the same!" Merlin barked. Gwaine lurched forward and Arthur sidestepped the thrust. "The Dryad is not dead, just corrupted!" With Arthur no longer an obstacle to reach Merlin, Gwaine turned his attention back to the fairy and stepped toward him again.

Arthur hissed out an exhale and moved to block again. "Stay behind me, Merlin!" he spat.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "This thing won't get tired, Arthur. It's not targeting you because Gareth knows you don't have the guts to kill it. Are you going to stand here for eternity trading blows?"

"No, I'm going to stop him from killing you until you think of a way out of here!" Arthur shoved Gwaine aside again, trying to knock his sword from his hand, but the man only stumbled to the side. He turned to look at Merlin. "So hurry up!"

"There isn't a way out of here!" Merlin threw up his hands at Arthur, exasperated. He seemed about to continue, until Arthur saw his gaze flick to the side and his face fall. The king spun around, but he raised his sword too late.

Arthur let out a ragged gasp as Gwaine's blade sliced into his right side. With no armor to prevent it, it struck deep. Gwaine, emotionless, ripped the sword back out. Arthur choked on the pain, staggering and nearly dropping his own sword.

"Arthur!" Merlin screamed, rushing forward, but Gwaine raised his sword again and stopped Merlin's path. Merlin scrambled back as Gwaine advanced on him, but he hit the stone wall and stood cornered there. In vain, he threw more magic at the living corpse, but it fizzled the second it left his body.

Arthur grunted as he lifted his sword and struggled forward. Gwaine was still in the armor he wore at his last battle, save his helm. Arthur bashed his blade against Gwaine's back. His sword sliced through the cloth but hit chainmail. It didn't matter, as it was enough to get Gwaine's attention.

He turned to Arthur again, unperturbed. Arthur thought he himself would topple over any second. His side radiated pain throughout his torso and weakened his hold on his sword. Every breath made the wound pulse with pain, but the shallow breaths he could take only made him feel more breathless.

Gwaine advanced on him. He stepped back, nearly as clumsy as his attacker now. "Gwaine," he panted. Some foolish part of him still held onto hope that his friend would return. "Remember yourself. Remember who we were. Please—" his voice broke and he swallowed tears and pain. "I don't want to kill you," he whispered.

Gwaine readied his sword for another blow. Arthur pressed his trembling lips together and waited.

As the man's blade descended, Arthur caught it against his hilt with a grunt of pain and flipped his sword in his palm so his blade was atop Gwaine's. With a quick downward force, Arthur ripped the sword from his hand. As it clattered to the floor Arthur spun his sword again and swept it, clean and easy, through Gwaine's neck.

His friend's head toppled to the floor by his feet. The body went limp and followed, thudding to the stones. No blood ran from his severed parts. Instead a thick black substance, akin to tar, bubbled to the floor.

Arthur stepped back, horrified. He did not know whether he was horrified at what Gwaine had become, or what he done.

He dropped to his knees, letting his sword fall and his side throb as he stared at the empty eyes of his best friend. Merlin rushed to his side, muttering in frustration, and Arthur shoved him away weakly when he began inspecting his wound.

"If I could use my magic, I could heal you!" Merlin burst out. He gripped his hair and growled into his teeth. "How do you people live without magic?"

"Well, I will not be living much longer, so it does not matter," Arthur murmured. With a grunt, he slid off his knees and laid himself down on the floor. The ceiling was the same grey rock, slimy with mold. "If you manage to get out of here, tell Guinevere how much I adore her," he sighed. "Tell her she is the world, the sun, and the moon."

"Don't talk like that."

"Tell her that her foolish, stupid husband is sorry, and that she needs to be strong for Camelot."

"Stop talking! Save your strength. I'll—I'll find a way out of here." Merlin sat up and looked around. "Humans become adhered to whatever magic they cast first. As a fairy, I can cast any magic of any element. But that means my magic is not as focused, as strong, as a human's can be." He looked down at Arthur to see the man had his eyes closed. "Arthur!" Merlin gripped his arm and the king opened his eyes and scowled at him. "Stay awake!" Merlin implored. "Listen to me talk."

"I don't want to listen to your nonsensical babbling," Arthur said, but his usual vitriol was lost in the pained whispering.

"It's not nonsensical! With your enemy using magic, it's important for you to understand these things." Arthur just shut his eyes again. Merlin forced out an exhale and closed his eyes as well. He needed to calm down if he wanted to get them out.

He took five deep breaths, steadying himself. Then he emanated his magic out from his core, prodding at the magic in the air. It was pure magic, the essence of life. For Gareth to cast something like that, he needed more than a knowledge of magic. He needed a deep understanding of it. Merlin had never known a human to be capable of such comprehension.

Pure magic was stronger than almost any other, but it still had weaknesses. And it was still aligned with life elements. And like all life, it inclined closer and closer to death with every second.

Merlin opened his eyes and looked down at Arthur. Blood soaked most of his shirt and was pooling slowly around his torso. His breathing was labored and weak. Death was a part of life, and it was a part that Merlin had been familiar with from the moment of his creation. But for the first time in his thousand years, he was scared of it.

"Just keep breathing," Merlin begged Arthur. "I will get us out."