Chapter Three
Merlin had only ever had one friend in his life.
He had met Will while he was owned by a man named Durac. He didn't know how old he was at the time as the knowledge of time was a luxury he could never have. He could never see the morning blue skies, could never watch as it gently faded to darkness until night fell and the entire world slept, another day gone by. For him, it was something that passed away in loneliness and screams and tears and whip lashes and bruises and broken bones and starvation and thirst.
However old they were, they both seemed to be of the same age by the looks of their appearance. They couldn't remember how long it had been since they had been ripped away from their families and taken hostage by the life of prisoners and enslavement and suffering and adversary.
But none of that mattered.
Because during their time in that unforgiving, barbaric place with Durac's ruthless brutality and cruel punishments, where their bodies were whipped until their skins were in shreds, where they were beaten relentlessly until they were bruised and battered all over and starved unsparingly until they were begging for mercy; where they were yelled at with vulgar, savage words that no one should ever hear in their lives until they were shoving their hands over their ears and screaming as loud as they could just so they wouldn't have to hear them again...
During that time, they were each other's hope. They were the ones who held the other when they were too broken to hold themselves together, in the darkest of days and nights. Placed a hand on the other's hands and arms and shoulders and backs and promised them false hopes of being free someday and comforted them with white lies and gentle reassurances. They made each other laugh after a hundred tears shed and, somehow, made each other forget that they were just two insignificant and worthless souls enslaved to a life of being bought and sold from one man to another, just until it all went too far one day.
Because in those moments, they were important. They were valued and loved and meant something to someone, and they thought that, even if they would die somewhere in this life of torture and anguish.
Maybe it'd be okay.
As long as there was a friend beside him when it happened.
...
"I've only ever had one friend before," Merlin blurted out.
Arthur removed his gaze from the candles he was setting on the ground, as the prior ones had burned out, to glance at Merlin. He smiled at him before focusing his eyes back on the task at his hand, but he still paid more than half of his attention to the young boy. "Really? What's his name?" he asked, glad that Merlin had a friend at least once during the horrible hardships he had gone through.
"Will," he said softly, smiling, with a sense of affection and yearning for a friend too far away from him in his large blue eyes.
"Will," Arthur repeated with a small nod of acknowledgement. "Well, where is he now?"
The answer he received was the last one he expected.
"He's dead."
Arthur froze, his mind numbing for a moment with shock.
He furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Merlin, who was staring at him, fingers tangled together as he fidgeted with them. He swallowed slightly and sent a hesitant, flickering smile in his way, with the underlying tones of sadness and longing.
"They killed him. Poisoned his food," Merlin continued, looking down at his twisted and trembling fingers. "I held him when he died."
"I'm sorry," Arthur condoled sincerely, his expression earnest.
"Don't be," Merlin replied softly, a little above a quiet whisper as he shook his head slightly, lifting his head up at him. He smiled, a mellow and sorrowful curl of his lips, sniffing as a thin haze of tears glinted in his wide, childlike eyes. "He told me he was going to be free."
Arthur sighed and nodded slowly in understanding. He could only imagine the pain of a slave's life. Living in imprisonment and being tormented every single day of your life, with no control over your own choices and body because you were owned by someone else. He didn't know what it felt like, but he knew it must be beyond bearable. "But he was also your only friend."
Merlin smiled a little more. "I have you now."
Arthur, for the second time, stilled at Merlin's response.
"You think of me as your friend?" he said, surprise and awe creeping into his tone. He sounded more as if he was musing to himself rather than asking Merlin the question.
Of course, he had considered Merlin to be a friend. But he wasn't sure if the boy had felt the same. He had figured, after everything he had been through, it would take Merlin a long while to be ready to give him his friendship and trust, which would have been undoubtedly justified according to Arthur.
The people who had endured the abuse that Merlin had were divided into two kinds. Some were those that, understandably, lost all ability to hold trust and hope and faith. Some were those who clung to the closest one they could find.
Arthur was glad Merlin was in the latter.
Upon hearing the bewildered question, Merlin seemed to grow questioning of his beliefs. "I...I just... I thought that's what we were n-now..." Merlin stammered, swallowing. "Weren't we?" His eyebrows knit in uncertainty as well as a bit of disappointment, worry and fear.
Disappointment of the thought that perhaps they weren't friends. Worry that he might have assumed wrong. Fear that Arthur didn't want to be friends with him. All these thoughts associated with the emotions were written clearly in his expression.
Merlin opened his mouth, most probably to take it all back and apologize.
But Arthur didn't allow him the chance.
"I suppose we are," Arthur said, smiling lightly.
He reveled in the warm feeling that Merlin's beaming smile at him brought.
...
"Have you found the sorcerer boy?" Uther inquired from his position in the council chair.
"No, My Lord," Arthur answered, standing tall and straight with his chin up high as a prince should, even though he was exhausted. Running around the castle all the way from his chambers to the tunnels about three times a day did take a lot out of him, leaving him spent and sapped of energy. Not to mention the fact that he also slept late these nights in order to tend to Merlin.
But he knew that it was all worth it.
"If I may propose a possibility; perhaps the sorcerer boy had escaped the city, My Lord," Arthur hypothesized, hoping that his father would accept it and leave it at that, which would make this situation far easier.
"Perhaps so," Uther replied, somewhat agreeably, and Arthur's heart jolted with excitement and joy. But then sunk low at the next words. "But the guards have seen no one leave the city for the past few days."
"It might be a trick of their sorcery. The sorcerer boy was said to be powerful."
"But he was also said to have little to no control over his powers," Uther responded nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the parchment he was writing on.
Halig watched from the sides, observing as the prince attempted to detour every probability of the sorcerer boy still residing in Camelot and, essentially, his chances of being caught and found.
And he felt his suspicions begin.
...
Arthur pulled back the hood of his cloak, lowering down to sit across from Merlin on the ground. "Sorry, I'm late. My father was interrogating me once again."
"About what?" Merlin asked, his brows raised and his eyes large with question and curiosity.
"About you," Arthur replied, shrugging. "I tried to convince him that you have probably escaped from Camelot, but he seemed to have an answer for every one of my 'theories'." He smacked his head back against the wall, rolling his eyes exasperatedly and letting a whoosh of breath out from his mouth.
"Your... father?" Merlin repeated slowly, furrowing his brows in puzzlement.
"Yes, my father," Arthur confirmed, his head still tilted back as he stared at him. After a few seconds of watching Merlin ponder while making confused expressions, he pushed himself off the wall and leaned forward. "My father? The King of Camelot?"
Merlin's gaze snapped up at him, staring at him with an emotion resembling horror. The way his eyes proceeded to bug out was almost comical. "Wait, what?"
"What do you mean, what?" Arthur questioned with some bewilderment of his own.
"Your father's the... you're the prince?"
Arthur paused for a moment, going through all his memories and searching for a time when he had mentioned this about himself to Merlin, and came up blank. He realized he hadn't said a single word about this to Merlin.
"I, um... I may have forgotten to tell you...?" Arthur trailed off sheepishly, making it sound more like a question than a statement as he scratched his cheek in an awkward, embarrassed manner.
"I don't understand," Merlin whispered, his brows pinched. He shook his head slightly as he locked his eyes on Arthur's face. "Why are you so good to me?"
"What?"
"You, of all people... you have even less of a reason. And yet, you still... you take care of me like no one other than Wil had," Merlin said, still a light, shaky whisper. He swallowed, a thin sheen of wetness glazing his eyes as he struggled not to crumble. "Why?"
"Because you're the only friend I've ever had," Arthur answered without missing a beat, shrugging a bit. "You told me you've only ever had one friend before. I didn't tell you that I've never had any." He paused, taking a loaded breath, and he smiled a little. "Now, I just want to keep the one I have alive."
Arthur thought he should be uncomfortable at his own display of emotion, but was pleasantly surprised to know he felt completely at peace in his friend's presence and companionship. He trusted Merlin more than he had trusted anyone in his life, and he wondered if it was possible for someone to have such an effect on him, especially after only a few days of knowing each other.
For a long while after his speech, Merlin simply stared at him, causing Arthur to feel slightly awkward under the scrutiny, and he wondered whether he had somehow made an offensive mistake in the things he had said.
But then he saw Merlin's lips curve into a watery smile, and he knew he had said the right words.
Arthur shifted, placing his elbows on his knees as he leaned a little more forward. "With you, I could just be who I am," Arthur confided, smiling. "I don't have to be Prince Arthur here. I could just... I could just be Arthur."
The dents in Merlin's cheek deepened as the arch of his lips widened, reaching his slightly moist eyes and crinkling the corners. It was the kind of smile Arthur had been wanting to see.
"Never met anyone like you." Arthur chuckled quietly, but his soft, affectionate eyes held sincerity at those words.
Merlin's smile couldn't get any bigger and sappier, but nonetheless, Arthur's chest swelled with warmth at the sight of it.
The sound of wood banging followed by rough rustling alerted them to the arrival of intruders, numerous boots thudding against the ground as shouts and orders echoed throughout the tunnels. Arthur's heart jolted in his chest.
He knew exactly who that voice belonged to.
Halig.
"How did they find us?" Arthur whispered, his eyes large with shock under his pinched brows. He felt the heavy pressure of his pounding heart against his sternum, but he managed to snap himself out of his shock and reached for Merlin's thin wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. "Come on!"
He tugged the boy up on his feet and, still clutching his wrist, ran.
...
Merlin's veins filled with cold dread the moment he heard the voice of his master, causing his heart to pound heavily against his chest. The hard beats thumped in his ears as they turned corners and ran, but he noticed when the voices went silent, save for the sounds of walking boots in search of them.
His trembling hands scrabbled frantically against Arthur's shirt as he slid down the wall, searching for soothe and comfort, for something to hold onto, to ground himself into in order to not fall apart at all the thoughts racing in his mind. He grasped a handful of the tunic on his shoulder, swallowing down the distressed sobs and tears pushing against his throat and his eyes, begging to be let out. The icy terror that filled his head with whispers of torture and agony that forced him to consider everything that could go wrong in that moment was something he had felt so many times throughout his life, almost every day, and he should have been used to it by now, but he wasn't.
It still consumed him whole until he could hear nothing but the pelts of fright in his ears, feel the hard pounds of panic against his sternum; the violent twist of trepidation in his stomach; the fear in his throat choking him and constricting his lungs until he was left gasping for air.
Merlin closed his eyes and tried to breathe, burying his mouth against Arthur's shoulder in an attempt to muffle and quiet the harsh sounds. He was already on the verge of breaking down, because they were going to find him. They were going to find him and take him away from Arthur, and they were going to put him back in that cage and call him worthless and a monster and tell him that he'd never be loved by anyone and then they'd give him to the King and he'd -
Merlin shook his head against Arthur, his mouth twisting upward as he thrust a fist between his mouth and Arthur's shoulder, struggling to breathe without sobbing.
"They're going to find me," he whispered anxiously, pushing his face further into Arthur's shirt. "They're going to find me, I..." He choked and sobbed, shaking his head frantically. "I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back to that cage. I can't. I can't..." His voice cracked and he swallowed hard, his eyes still squeezed shut as his features crumpled fully and the tears leaked free from underneath his eyelids, streaming down his cheeks. "I don't want to die." It came out as a strangled, harsh gasping sob that wracked his entire, abused body; ripped out from the deepest, most agonized parts of his wounded and oppressed soul.
"I don't want to die." Not when I 've just found a reason to live again.
...
"I won't let that happen," Arthur whispered, feeling Merlin tremble next to him. His heart burned with sorrow and pain at the sight of him; the first glimpse of his broken years in the past. It was there in front of him, in his friend's tearful and red-rimmed eyes, clear as the sky. "I won't. I'll look after you, like Will had once. I won't let them hurt you." He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around his back and tightening his grip. "I promise."
He watched Merlin silently as he sniffed, still trembling against him. His swollen and wet blue eyes slowly revealed themselves open as they looked up at him hesitantly, feeling his thin, quivering fingers tighten slightly on his tunic. He inhaled a breath in shakily and swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. "M' a m-monster. I've hurt people," he whispered quietly, his voice broken and tight as fresh tears welled up in his ashamed eyes again.
"Monsters don't call themselves monsters for hurting people," Arthur replied softly, no uncertainty in his words. Looking at Merlin right now, in this very moment, he knew there was nothing else that he could believe. The purity and innocence of his soul, his humanity, shone out brightly like the candles in his hands, chasing away any shadows of doubt and fear and distrust that he still might have held.
And all there was left was compassion and affection and faith. A sense of something definite settling inside him, like a fitting puzzle piece.
He reached up and brushed a hand over his friend's hair soothingly. "Monsters don't feel remorse for it."
Merlin swallowed, staring at him deeply through a tearful gaze, as if trying to gauge something. Trying to understand.
Until something seemed to fit. Something definite.
Like a puzzle piece.
And the next thing Arthur knew, he had his arms full of Merlin, all skin and bones against him. His arms clutched around his neck tightly, his small chest stuttering against his own as hitched breaths and strangled sobs filled his ears. His shoulders shook with his cries against the sides of Arthur's neck, his mouth trembling against his skin as his tears soaked his shirt.
Arthur slowly wrapped his own arms around the narrow waist, pressing him closer as he tightened his grip around him, feeling a heavy ache in his chest and a deep need to take away the sounds of his friend's pain.
He held him tight, knowing there was nothing he could do.
They remained like that for a long while, just until Merlin pulled himself together as the sobs and trembles abated. Arthur released him as he slowly drew back from him, smudging the wetness on his cheeks as he attempted to wipe them away. His breaths still shuddered lightly through his nose and his hands still shook a bit, but he seemed better otherwise.
"Are you alright now?" Arthur asked him softly.
Merlin nodded and swallowed, his gaze flickering up towards him.
"Arthur?" Merlin said quietly.
"Hm?"
Merlin smiled, his eyes soft. "I've never met anyone like you either."
Author's Note: I hope you all like it! I hope it was sweet and sad, and it lived up to your expectations. :) Also, I know that Arthur's a bit OOC in the story (He's too nice, isn't he? LOL!) but I would think that, under the circumstances, it's understandable. I can't see Arthur acting in any other way towards a person coming from Merlin's place here. I hope you all find it alright! :)
Thank you all so much for the support! The wonderful reviews (I had 21 in the last chapter! *collapses* Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!) the tags, the reads, I'm very, very grateful for all of it. They mean so much to me! You're all awesome. *hugs*
The credits for the wonderful story cover goes to Wilma from THoC. Thank you so much! *hugs*
No flamers. Constructive criticism is welcome! Let me know if I'm doing anything wrong, but please be polite. :)