*creeps around the corner, then waves hesitantly*
Hi everyone!
I know, it's been nearly a month (a month minus a day!). It is entirely my fault!
I'll update quicker next time!
Anyway, I am going to be late for my biology class so have a nice time reading this and REVIEW !
Sleep well, Pendragon!
The door was closed in a loud bang.
Arthur fumbled around his shackes, trying to get to his friend again. It was useless. He couldn't even twitch his heavily chained legs.
Merlin was lying on his back, trying to catch his breath. He was shivering, letting out pitiful moans now and then.
Arthur stopped to analyse his feelings. Never head towards a situation without having set your mind, that's what his father always told him.
He contemplated his emotions, and within seconds understood that Merlin-Emrys-whatever was his same idiotic friend than the day before. The only difference was that now Arthur knew a bit more about his lazy manservant.
Merlin couldn't breathe. The gag Morgana had used was boring deep into his mouth, blocking him from taking in airy. He could only make whizzing sounds as he tried to put himself in the less painful position and ease his cracked ribcage.
His chest was on fire. He had already broken a rib or two, but this was a new level of pain. He didn't even dare to probe his ribcage to know how many bones Morgana had broken. There was no use - he was almost certain that not a single rib had resisted her kicks.
He let out a pitiful moan, and bit his lip to stop another groan.
Far away, past the clouded haze of pain that monopolised his mind, he could hear Arthur calling out for him with barely concealed concern.
Merlin wanted to reassure him, but he had not enough energy to talk. He twitched, shaking his horribly painful ribs, and hesitantly tried to take a new breath through the filthy cloth that blocked his mouth. He shocked.
He couldn't breathe. It was just too hard to move his chest. He gasped, trying to gulp some precious mouthful of air. He was beginning to see black dots, and knew that if he did not find a solution, he was going to die in the next minutes, in this cell. And no one would be able to save Arthur if he died.
The magic-suppressing shackles heatened up as his panicked powers tried to heal his ribs. The shackles stopped him from using his magic on his environment, but he imagined that perhaps, just perhaps, he could use it on himself. Perhaps he could heal himself! He hoped his powers would co-operate, because even without shackles his healing magic randomly -let's be honest, never- worked. But he had to try – it was a life or death situation. Merlin realised he was able to ramble in thoughts even whilst fighting for air, and decided he would continue this mental self-conversation later - hopefully.
The warlock closed his eyes and concentrated. Going into shock would be signing his death sentence. His power was flowing frantically through his broken body. He calmly directed it towards his chest, and mentally pronounced a healing spell. He knew without opening his eyes that his body was shining as the bones repaired themselves at an unnatural speed.
He moaned as the ribs snapped back together with a loud 'pop!', but then nearly giggled in relief and shock. A last mental spell and the gag was ripped off his mouth.
He breathed in normally, sat up without any pain in the chest and after wavering a little, bore his blue eyes in Arthur's surprised ones. He grinned.
'Merlin! What happened?' He was frantic. 'You were struggling to breathe, and then you just went still and your body decided to shine. I thought you had died! And now you are just grinning as if nothing had happened! Idiot!'
Arthur nearly pouted, but decided against it. A King does NOT pout.
'How did you heal yourself!'
Merlin bit his lip.
'Erm…I can still use my ma-' He stopped dead. He was still unsure about Arthur's opinion on the M word.
Arthur took on the hint and smiled.
'I realised I didn't care if you had magic or not. You are still the same bumbling idiot. Knowing you have magic or not won't change my friendship with you.'
Merlin's grin got ridiculously wide.
'Did you actually admit -?'
'Yes. Shut up, Merrrlin. Now what were you saying about being able to use your powers?'
The younger boy closed his eyes and probed his powers.
'It seems that I can use my magic on myself, as in I can heal myself. But I can't make it leave my body yet, the shackles block any interaction with the environment.'
'Meaning…'
'I can't unchain us or open the door or blow it off or attack Morgana or –'
Merlin was on a very long list of what he couldn't do.
It seemed having back some control over his powers made him euphoric and talkative – even more than usual. Knowing him, he could have rambled on all day. Arthur raised his shacked hands in defeat.
'Alright, alright, I get it.'
'Fantastic!'
'So we have to get the shackles off you...'
'...Correct!'
'I am thinking, Merrrlin!'
'Don't think too much, you don't want to hurt yourself!'
He piped in.
'Idiot!'
That had been three days ago.
Three days since Moriarty's treachery. Three days that Arthur and Merlin had spent locked up in a cell. Three days not getting food and drinking the water that dripped from the cold wet walls. Three days since Morgana had last showed up. She obviously wanted to starve Arthur and force him to sign the handover of the kingdom. And obviously, she did not recall Arthur's stubborness.
Merlin relentlessly tried to get the shackles off. Each time he tried to concentrate his magic on them, they grew unbearably hot and burnt his wrists. Even if Merlin could heal them instantly - he had actually become quite good at healing magic over the last few days-, the burns left painful cicatrices. And each time he tried to get them off, he passed out to wake up hours later, feeling totally drained.
Despite of everything, Merlin was not affected by the lack of food or water – his strong bumbling magic sustained him.
But Arthur was growing weaker and weaker, and Merlin was scared of what might happen to him if he didn't find a way out soon.
He screwed his eyes shut and tried again. The manacles became red-hot, as if they were put over a fire. Merlin blocked out the seering pain, and dug even more in his magic. He was nearly there…but his magic retailed again and shot back into him. He flew against the wall, banging his head on it, and passed out.
The cell's door flew open for the first time in days.
Moriarty and Morgana stepped in, under Arthur's weak but watchful eyes. He had silently observed Merlin as he tried again to free them, hurting himself in the process. He had tried to tell him to stop, but his friend was a self-sacrificing idiot, and he wouldn't listen.
The witch smirked at seeing the unconscious body of his friend, but turned her attention back onto him. Her green eyes locked up with his.
'Ready to sign the handover?'
Arthur shook his head, his eyes set on the wall behind Merlin. He would not to betray his fatigue. The lack of water had made his throat so dry it was impossible for him to make a sound.
Morgana laughed - she did not even really care about the treaty; it seemed torturing her brother was a lot more enjoyable for her. He maintained his gaze on the grey wall.
'Pity. Anyway, Moriarty and I have a surprise for the two of you. You are moving out. I hope you'll enjoy your new accommodations.'
She raised her hands.
'Bedyrne us thanonweard to Essetir!'
Arthur felt himself fall. The world went black.
Reviews? :)