Merlin didn't know how long it had been since he had last woken. In fact, he wasn't really sure of anything at all given how foggy his mind was. Occasionally there would be voices, hands touching him, the stirrings of movement around him. But none of these things really reached him in his sleepy haze.
Despite his confusion, the warlock was content. He was warm and the pain that had gripped him for so long was finally, blissfully gone. He was floating in a vast, dark space; no one needed his help, and nothing required his attention. He could drift along in the depths of his own mind, entirely undisturbed.
The memories of what had led him here were hazy and indistinct, and for a long time he didn't care to try and recall, but eventually he came to the conclusion that this strange half life couldn't last. He would have to fall, one way or the other, from the knife edge he was balancing on, and he was determined to make sure that if he had to die, he wouldn't go out quietly.
'We cannot choose our ends, so do not try. Just know that when it comes, we can die the way we lived: Fighting.' * He recalled the words that he hadn't even realised he'd learned by heart. They'd been written in a book back in Ealdor, that he'd read many years ago. At the time he hadn't really comprehended their meaning, but all of a sudden he understood: he would not – could not – give up all he had worked so hard for now, at the last hurdle.
And so he did what he'd always done: fight back. He struggled against the foggy darkness, trying to twist his way free. What had been a comfort suddenly seemed more like a prison and his efforts doubled as he began to get free.
In the safety of his own mind, there was no passing of time, and it could have been moments or years before he felt the deep, bone-aching pain radiating through his back again. He flinched violently at the agony, but did not stop trying to find his way back to himself. There was something important waiting for him: namely one injured prince.
Merlin couldn't really remember much of anything beyond watching Ragley's sword descend towards him but there was a vague shadowy recollection of hearing Arthur talking to him at his bedside. It said a lot about his state of mind that he couldn't work out whether that had been reality or just another dream.
There were voices, mutterings around him that were growing louder and stronger as the pain in his back became even fiercer. He tried to speak, beg for something to numb the fire, but his vocal chords wouldn't cooperate. A strange keening sound filled the air, and it took a second to understand that the noise was coming from his own mouth. He shut himself up as quickly as he could.
Without any warning a liquid was being poured down his throat awkwardly as arms held his dead weight so that he was balanced on his side. There was something wrapped around the length of his torso – 'bandages?' – and the people helping him were being very careful not to touch the wounds. He was grateful; he didn't think he would have been able to deal with the pain. Whatever the vile tasting liquid he was being force fed was, it was numbing the fire spreading through him. He muttered something garbled that was meant to be appreciation and a warm hand patted his shoulder carefully.
"Can you hear me?" The voice was soft and gentle, and Merlin recognised it immediately with a great sense of relief: his beloved mentor.
"Gai..." It was as close as he could get to a proper word, still trying to locate the correct nerve pathways to move his mouth. It was inexplicably difficult.
"Shh my boy, it's all right. You're going to be alright." Even in his semi-conscious state Merlin could hear the emotions running through his voice. His heart went out to the aged physician, a swell of love blocking his throat. In the confused jumble of thoughts that were typical of dreamers the warlock was aware that whatever was going on was going to be having a profound effect on his father figure, and with that thought guilt flooded his system.
"I suppose it isn't much, but at least you're slightly more coherent this time," another voice mocked gently, distracting him and the warlock smiled at the knowledge that Arthur was there. If the prince ever found out, he'd have called Merlin a girl, but the dark haired boy couldn't help but feel safer knowing that the man who had looked after him for the duration of their captivity was nearby.
"Arth.. ur," he tried to speak again, but he felt like he was underwater, his body slow and sluggish.
"Merlin. For once, listen to Gaius. Shh." He was using his I-am-prince-and-therefore-outrank-you voice, but it was different. Softer. He sounded almost... worried? "You've been asleep for over a week Merlin!" So, maybe not worry. More like exasperation, and the warlock quaked slightly at the tone. Past experience had shown him that when Arthur was using that voice he was more than likely about to be landed with a shed load of chores. Or the stocks. A small corner of his mind wondered if the prince would hold off his punishment long enough for his back to heal up. He certainly hoped so.
"Week?" He forced out. A week was an awfully long time. The stiffness of his joints told him that it had been a while, but surely it couldn't have been that long.
"Yes Merlin, an entire week. But don't you worry, I've saved up lots and lots of chores for you to catch up on." He had switched to his usual 'prat' voice, but the foreign tenderness was still evident. The warlock wanted to ask about that, but it would require far too many words for his liking, so he just decided to inquire about it later.
"I was hoping you would try and encourage him to wake Sire," came Gaius' reproachful tone, further away now. "I don't think chores are the way to do so." Merlin laughed. The sound was strangled and breathless, but he found the situation so amusing he couldn't quite contain himself. The agony rippled down his spine, flickering on the edges of his mind, but the Gaius' concoction kept it at bay.
"Oh? Something funny there Merlin?" The softness was well hidden now behind the echo of their usual banter. The prince was clearly happy to find a way back into his regular position and leapt on the chance to rib his servant.
"No sire," he replied, his voice still embarrassingly weak. Still, he was awake and coherent so he could hardly complain. "Nothing." Gaius was chuckling in the background, but didn't intrude. He had long since been made aware of the pair's dysfunctional relationship, and he knew that if anyone was going to help pull Merlin back, Arthur would be the one to do it.
"Of course there isn't. So the laughing wouldn't have anything to do with the heaps of chores waiting for you as soon as you get up off your lazy backside?" The warlock rolled his eyes, though the prince couldn't tell as Merlin had yet to open his eyes.
"Prat," was his only response, not awake enough to come up with anything more witty.** To his surprise the prince didn't comment or reply. He just chuckled softly, and even without looking, Merlin had the distinct impression that he was only laughing to keep from crying.
..
It was several more days before Merlin mustered the energy to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, and more still before he was able to sit up. The wounds on his back were healing nicely, the infection gone, but they still smarted quite substantially and made leaning on anything painful and awkward.
By the time Merlin was able to stand another week and a half had passed, and even then he had to use a cane to support his wounded leg. Gaius was hesitant to let him walk around, but found that after all that had happened he was unable to deny his boy anything. In any case, the warlock couldn't go too far before his legs trembled so badly he had to sit down again anyway.
Merlin didn't really care about his recovery process. He was glad of the rest if he was honest and besides, there was something far greater distracting him. Since he had awoken two weeks ago he had seen neither hide nor hair of his prince. It seemed that for reasons known only to himself, Arthur had decided that the warlock was no longer worth his time.
Gwen still came to see Merlin, every day if she could and she was able to fill the room with her smile. Her visits were the one part of the day that the warlock looked forwards too. He spent the time catching up on what he had missed during the time he had been gone, as well as studying from his magic book with his door securely locked. Not that it mattered; it wasn't as if the prince was going to appear to arrest him for it.
The more time that passed, the more bitter the warlock became. He had thought that after all they had been through Arthur would want to at least check up on him. But maybe he was overstepping his boundaries; the tenderness that he had heard in the prince's voice when he awoke could easily have been imagined. And maybe he had imagined the closeness they had shared while still in Ragley's clutches.
All Merlin could do was talk himself in circles until he was so lost in his own thoughts he struggled to remember where he was. He needed to get out, get back to work, do something, anything. He knew that the longer he stared at the walls of his room, the more they would feel like prison bars. Over the last month Merlin had learned many things, but most of all he had learnt to value his freedom and this new isolation was something he didn't want to have to cope with.
"Merlin, we've talked about this." Gaius was making his exasperation clear in his tone.
"Please Gaius! Just let me walk around the courtyard or even to the end of the corridor!" He might be begging, but at this stage he didn't care.
"You know that you don't have the strength!" Merlin knew that he was just worried, but the warlock was stressed and his temper was suddenly in flames.
"Then I'll find it!" He yelled back, rising to his feet with a jerk. "All I know is that if I stare at the walls any more I'll go crazy! I have spent all this time cooped up in here or in my room or in some god forsaken tent!" It was a low blow and he knew it but he couldn't quite get himself back under control.
He'd made a mistake though in rising too quickly and blackness filled his vision as his blood rushed to his head. He swayed unsteadily, desperately trying to remain upright and not show his discomfort. As if Gaius needed more ammunition.
"Merlin, please, sit down." The physician's voice was tender and calm and it made the warlock feel weak for resorting to anger so easily. For half a second he was distracted by the unexpected self loathing before he came back to his senses and dropped unceremoniously into his chair.
"I'm sorry Gaius. I didn't mean it." He looked down at the table between them in shame.
"Yes you did." The warlock's head snapped up with wide eyes. "But I understand my boy, I really do. Look, tomorrow morning why don't we find Gwen and the two of you can take a little walk to the courtyard for some fresh air?" Merlin flashed him a wide grin, feeling lighter than he had in days.
"Thanks Gaius!" The old man just shook his head with a fond smile.
..
"How have you been Merlin? Glad to get out, I'll bet." Gwen was smiling up at her friend as he hobbled along, still uncoordinated with his cane. Gaius had promised him he could be rid of the thing within a few weeks, but any fool could see that he already hated it.
"You have no idea. I never thought I'd be so glad to get out of bed," he told her with the smile she loved. It lit up his face and his eyes shone. She laughed good naturedly.
The sun was streaming through the windows of the corridor and the air was pleasantly warm, with a nice breeze blowing in from the open door in front of them. The walk to the courtyard that would normally take two or three minutes had taken them almost ten, but neither felt the need to comment on that fact, just happy to be in each other's company.
Merlin had found that he really missed Gwen. Over the last few months he'd had almost no time to see her, and he hadn't realised just how big a hole it left in his life. She had been his first friend upon arrival in Camelot, and her kindness then had won her a place in his heart forever. She was so good. He thought that being Gwen's friend was something like having a sister.
"Ah, fresh air," he sighed contentedly when they reached the open space. He closed his eyes momentarily, relishing in the feeling of the wind through his hair. He'd missed this. Ever since growing up in the woods and caves around his home in Ealdor with Will he'd found that being outside felt like a small piece of home; The sun and sky and clouds he looked on here were no different from the ones in Ealdor. Gwen made no comment other than a low chuckle.
"Merlin?" The startled yell jolted him out of his reverie violently. His eyes darted open and he found his prince stood right in front of him, glaring venomously. For a second he just stared, entirely stunned by Arthur's sudden reappearance and then utterly confused by the rage all across the prince's face.
"Ar-Arthur?" He stammered, glancing at Gwen in the irrational hope she could make this situation go away. No such luck. She glanced between the two warily before taking a measured step backwards and saying nothing. Looks like he was on his own against Arthur's ire.
"What are you doing?" The prince shrieked at him, waving one arm around violently. The warlock flinched away, copying Gwen's motion of stepping backwards.
"Err... I was... walking?" He wasn't really sure what the right answer to the question was, but it was clear Arthur was expecting a response.
"And might you have forgotten that you are currently meant to be resting?" He was still furious and Merlin could feel his own rage from yesterday bubbling through.
"Actually, I'm fairly sure that's exactly what I've been doing for the past month! Not that you'd care." He hadn't meant that last sentence to slip out, and he bit his lip. Arthur recoiled slightly like he'd been slapped and for a second just stared at his servant as though seeing him for the first time. It took a moment before he rallied himself enough to even try and respond.
"Did Gaius give you permission?" His voice was hard and unfeeling.
"Yes, he did." Merlin echoed his master's tone, forcing his face to remain blank.
The prince sniffed with as much dignity he could muster before spinning on his heel and marching in the other direction. Gwen reached for Merlin's shoulder, rubbing it comfortably.
"I'm sure he's just stressed," she tried to comfort him. It didn't work.
"I'm tired Gwen. I think I'll head back to Gaius' chambers." Without further comment he turned and walked away as fast as he was able. Gwen could easily have caught up to him but she made no attempt to, just watched him go sadly.
Silently she swore to herself that she would get to the bottom of this.
..
*For the record, the quote is actually something I wrote in a first draft manuscript for the book I'm working on. In the end, it won't make the cut, but I was quite proud of it, so I shoved it in here. At least then it won't just rot away inside my head.
**This is more describing me right now than our dear Merlin.
I also noticed that half way through this I started calling Arthur 'king' instead of 'prince.' I think I changed them all, but please tell me if I missed any :)
So this is not end! The next chapter definitely will be though. I think. I don't know :S As some of you noticed I posted a teaser for a new story the other day! Thanks for all the reviews I got from it, they meant a lot. For reasons unknown it isn't letting me respond to them, but I did read them all and appreciate, I promise.
Other than that, I can't guarantee when the final chapter will be out. It depends on how badly my exams go. Anyways, thanks for reading :D