Wow! Once again, I must thank all those of you who have reviewed etc. this story. I can scarcely bring myself to believe you're still enjoying it so much. Here comes chapter 5. Hope you like it, and please continue to review, it's really rather exciting reading them :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
Chapter 5
Merlin was floating in darkness. He tried to move, but there was no point. Where was there to go? He couldn't even tell which way was up and which way was down. Giving up, he just waited for something to happen.
He didn't have to wait long.
A large pool of crystal clear water suddenly appeared beneath his feet. He struggled against it, but he could feel himself sinking further and further into it's depths. He reached out, screaming, but there was no-one there to hear him. No-one there to pull him out. He was alone.
He drew in one last breath as his head went under, his entire body now submerged. How long would it be before he drowned? He clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable feeling of suffocation which would surely envelop him at any moment. But it never came.
Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes and stared around him. The water went on, perfectly clear, for as far as he could see.
Or was it clear? What was that in the distance? He tried to swim towards it, but he couldn't move. It didn't matter though, the unknown object was coming closer and closer at an alarming rate, speeding towards him so fast that it felt like just a second before it reached him.
A stream of images, floating in the water, surrounding him, hemming him in on all sides. No, wait. Not just images- there were sounds too. Picking a random image, he focused on it, then jolted in terror as he felt himself being pulled into the scene.
A girl lay dying in his arms- killed by his own hand. Morgana. He remembered it all, and fought with all his might to escape before he had to once again witness the look in her eyes, the utter shock at his betrayal turning into hatred. Before he had to once again feel his heart shattering into pieces in the knowledge that he had poisoned one of the best friends he had ever had.
But he couldn't escape. He was forced to relive it all- every second of it scorching itself into his mind. He found himself crying- screaming silently, begging for some form of release. He forced himself away, trying to close off his mind.
Another scene. A great monstrous beast flying over the city, burning everyone it laid eyes upon. Setting fire to people's homes. There were cries, screams, yelling. The stench of scorching flesh filled the air- bodies strewn around the square. He tried to stop it- tried to cast a spear into the heart of the beast with his magic, but it just bounced off harmlessly. He was powerless- the Dragon was going to destroy all of Camelot- it had already taken so many lives- and it was all his fault. He had caused this when he had set the Dragon free. All of this was his fault.
Another scene, and another, hundreds of moments of his life flashing through his mind, forcing him to relive each one over and over- the Sidhe, the Gryphon, the Knights of Medhir. And more- so many more- Arthur dying, Freya's death, his Father's final moments. Each one made him feel as though his heart were being ripped from his chest and torn into hundreds of pieces.
It was too much, he couldn't face the memories any longer. He needed to blast it all away. Taking in a deep breath, he concentrated on the magic he knew was running through his very veins, gathering it into a tight ball in his chest, before letting it burst out in a raw wave of power.
It worked. The images disappeared. He woke, bolting upright, his eyes snapping open in a blaze of gold, the power still rushing from him, blasting through the camp. Passing through the young man who was sat at his side, pushing him several feet back.
Eventually Merlin managed to rein it in, to pull the magic back into himself.
Panting heavily, he suddenly realised what was happening- where he was. His eyes darted over to Arthur, fear the only emotion he could feel as he saw his friend staring at him in shock.
He had seen him. Oh God, Arthur had seen him use magic.
It was all over.
Arthur sat next to his friend in silence, his mind turning once again to what had happened last night, mulling it over. He had finally managed to make Merlin lie down to rest, and he had fallen asleep shortly after. Arthur feared that the young man was becoming ill- his forehead was beginning to burn with hints of fever, and his normally pale skin had taken on a ghostly pallor. There wasn't much he could do, simply laying a cold cloth over his brow and staying with him.
He watched, concerned, as Merlin began tossing in his sleep even more heavily than he had during the previous nights. His face was contorted with anguish, tears streaming down his face. Jumbled words poured in a nonsensical order from his tongue- words of apology, of hopelessness, of grief. He began writhing fiercely, as though he were fighting against some unknown enemy.
Not knowing what he should do, Arthur grabbed his arms, trying to pin him in place so he wouldn't end up hurting himself. He tried to speak soothingly to his friend.
"Merlin. Merlin. Can you hear me Merlin? It's fine okay, you're safe. Merlin, please just calm down."
He couldn't get through. Struggling to keep the boy still, Arthur felt that now all-to-familiar sense of panic and helplessness wash over him. What on earth was going on here?
The struggle continued for almost 15 minutes before Merlin suddenly lay still. Breathing a sigh of relief, Arthur sat back on his heels, only to reel backwards seconds later when the boy abruptly jolted upright. His eyes opened, glowing a fierce and intense gold.
Arthur barely had time to register this fact before a surge of raw energy slammed outwards, sending him flying.
He lay sprawled on the ground for several seconds, listening to Merlin's heavy breathing, trying to calm his quickly beating heart, trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling around in his head. That was magic. Merlin had used magic. There had been no words, no warning, no indication at all- just a single blast of power. His friend was a sorcerer, and- if what had just happened was anything to go by- he was a powerful one.
Arthur lifted his head, barely even registering the pain that such a small action gave him, and stared at his friend.
After a few seconds, Merlin stared back.
Arthur slowly pulled himself into a sitting position- he didn't trust himself to stand just yet. He just sat there, staring at Merlin. The boy looked terrified. The young Prince had seen that look so many times in his life- on the faces of the hundreds of people his father had had executed.
He had never expected to see such an expression on Merlin's face.
The best friend he had ever had was staring at him with the expression of a hunted animal expecting to meet it's end at any moment. And for some reason, this hurt Arthur more than he could say.
So many emotions were rolling around inside him- shock, disbelief, anger. But not the anger he would have expected- for some reason he couldn't bring himself to be angry right now over the fact that Merlin had used magic. More than that- so much more- there was anger at his betrayal. How could he have never told him? They had been together for two years now. Had become closer than a master and servant should ever come. They were best friends. So why had Merlin never told him this?
Swallowing hard; forcing down his rising emotions, he forced himself to stand, looking down at his friend. He could only imagine the expression on his own face.
He took a step forward, but the second his foot touched the ground his leg gave out beneath him, and he went tumbling to the ground.
The last thing he heard was a single urgent shout.
"ARTHUR!"
Well, there you have it. Before I leave it at that, I must thank JBQ for reminding me of the fact that Arthur really should still harbour the slightest of doubts about the whole wind thing. I added in just one extra sentence to show it, as I didn't want to change much of what I'd already put. Hope everyone enjoyed it, and please review :)