Lost Chapter 2
A/N: I am in desperate need of stress-relief. So here you go: I'll continue this story. I am apparantly completely incapable of writing one-shots. More to come later.
As soon as the bandits disappeared with Arthur, Merlin cut his ties to the tree. He was dizzy and weak on his knees, so he fell. His head-wound would have been very serious, very possibly deadly, if he hadn't had magic. But that would either take a lot of power or a lot of time- time his Arthur should not spend with the rogue sorcerers.
His Arthur... He had not dared think it before, but with how Arthur had acted and what he had started to say- it was undeniable now. Oh yes, he had seen it in his king's eyes, finally: love. He was Arthur's love, just like Arthur was his. His to protect, his to care for, his to love. And he would not lose him, he would not allow it. He needed power.
The Dorocha's touch and the snake's possession had left their traces in him. The cold despair and dark thoughts were nestled deep within him and he only let them rear their ugly heads when he needed them to take control of a situation, to be extra powerful. In a way, Uther had been right: control was easier when one was distant and capable of bad things for the better. For Arthur.
So sometimes Merlin let his anger and coldness and darkness loose, as the Emrys of the prophesies. The dragon had been wrong: Morgana wasn't the darkness to his light; he was his own darkness. He was sometimes frightened of what he was capable of, and this was the only way he could cope with it. Letting go to be in control, to do what was necessary.
For Arthur; anything, everything.
He needed power to get Arthur back, power to heal himself and power to battle the sorcerers. He needed darkness and coldness to get the bandits to return Arthur, to make an impression. To set a punishment. Because no man- sorcerer or otherwise- could get away with this. He would eradicate this despicable behaviour, for Arthur.
He knew that that was how the Purge of magic started: for Arthur. He would start a whole new Purge, a Purge of the bad use of gifts, for the exact same reason.
For Arthur; anything, everything.
Even his control. Because that would be what he would lose, if only for a while. His head wound disabled him to have more control than just giving suggestions to his darker, stronger part. It would be worth it.
For Arthur; anything, everything.
Merlin closed his eyes and thought of all his faults, the death, the bad choices, the painful memories, the hate, the fear, the loss. And as the sun now plunged under the horizon and the world was embraced in shadows, Merlin was embraced in his own shadow-thoughts and drownded in darkness, and was lost.
For Arthur; anything, everything.
His eyes opened.
Fun time