7. A Promise Kept

It was nightfall, when they located Hengist's fortress. Its towers loomed ominously beneath the cover of night, seeming to pierce the oppressive clouds rolling in from the west.

They hid in the shrubbery, sharp gusts of wind rustling the brambles around them as they spied on the castle perimeters.

"We'll have to scale the walls," Arthur decided, craning his head back as he tried to estimate the height of the tower nearest to them.

On his right, Merlin leaned over his shoulder. "Maybe there's another way in."

Arthur could only conclude that magic hadn't corrupted Merlin, but had instead utterly robbed him of all common sense.

"Why don't you go and knock on the front gate? I'm sure if you ask nicely, they'll hand Gwen over to you."

Without waiting for a reply, Arthur rose from his crouched position and pushed forward, shoving aside the foliage blocking his way. Above the sound of turbulent wind and snapping branches, he could hear Merlin clumsily following after him.

"Arthur, you think scaling a tower wall would be any less dangerous?!"

"Less dangerous than fighting our way in?" Arthur asked rhetorically. "Don't be daft."

"I'm being daft? You're the one who wants me to scale the outer wall of a tower like I won't inevitably plunge down to my death!"

Arthur snorted a laugh. While Merlin's melodrama was downright annoying, every so often, it could be amusing.

They steadily climbed up the grassy hill against which the fortress was built and when they reached the base of the tower, Merlin spoke up one last time, expression twisting with despair, "Are we really going to do this?"

Arthur clapped him on the back. "I'm afraid so," he said with faux sympathy. "Come now, up you go!"

Once he'd made sure Merlin was actually capable of making the climb, Arthur jumped up after him, easily finding footholds in the craggy stone and catching up to him.

Fortunately, Merlin grew quiet under the strain, and they kept up a steady pace.

It was when they were halfway up the tower that Arthur briefly glanced down and caught sight of Merlin struggling to keep up, hands nearly losing their grip on the jutting stones.

"You really are completely useless, aren't you Merlin?"

Startled, Merlin met his gaze and then slipped even further down, loose rocks crumbling between his fingers. "It's harder than it looks!" he gasped.

Arthur rolled his eyes and lifted his face back up as he resumed climbing. For someone without a knight's training, Merlin was doing an admirable job. But it's not as though Arthur could say that.

"Oh, now you're just showing off!" Merlin called up after him.

Arthur bit back a laugh.

"Quit your bellyaching and keep climbing," he ordered without pause. He heard Merlin mutter a couple of expletives, but otherwise, heard no more complaints.

Arthur was not surprised that he was the first to reach the parapets. He hauled himself over with little strain, and then reached back down, gripping Merlin by the back of his jacket and heaving him over the wall.

"See? Not so bad," he said while Merlin struggled to simultaneously stand and catch his breath.

"I beg to differ," Merlin wheezed.

"Beg another time. We need to move."

With a sharp kick, Arthur broke down the door leading into the tower and carefully lead the way down the dark, winding stairway, Merlin at his heels.

"Where to?" Merlin asked.

"Most of the patrols were concentrated on the western sector of the fortress," Arthur said without looking back. "My guess is that that's where Hengist is holed up. Now keep your mouth shut."

They moved quickly through the dim, dusty halls, only pausing when they saw the flicker of torchlight flaring in the next hallway over.

They cautiously peered into the corridor, where they caught sight of two henchmen sitting across a table from each other, guarding the way to Hengist while rolling a pair of dice between them.

"You distract them," Arthur whispered as Merlin leaned over his shoulder. "I'll knock them out."

"How do I distract them?" Merlin demanded, eyes crinkled with concern.

Arthur refrained from sighing and instead put an arm around Merlin's shoulder, pretending to draw him close in order to answer, before roughly shoving him through the entryway and down the steps. Arthur ducked back before the mercenaries could catch sight of him.

"What are you doing there?"

"Nothing," he heard Merlin answer, in concert with the metallic shing of swords being drawn. "Actually, it's a funny story. I was out walking and uh, I took a wrong turn, and here I am…do you know the way to the Vale of Denaria?"

While Merlin did what he did best and rambled, Arthur crouched low and followed, relieved to find that the men had their backs turned to him as Merlin continued to back himself further into the passageway.

"Who are you?!"

He kept himself low, until he stood directly behind the two henchmen.

"Me? Uh, I'm no one." Arthur rose to his full height and met Merlin's relieved gaze above their shoulders. "It's him you need to worry about."

"Who?"

Using his fists, Arthur simultaneously struck their skulls hard enough to knock them out. They dropped like sacks of meat.

Arthur met Merlin's eyes with a smug look.

"Took you long enough," Merlin grumbled.

Arthur scowled. "Well perhaps if you'd been a better distraction―"

"You pushed me!"

"You asked for my help!"

"That is not what I meant and you know it!"

Arthur held his hands up. "Fine. No need to get so irritable. Come on, we need to change."

"Change?"

"Yes," Arthur said, eyeing the size of the henchmen sprawled across the stone floor. "We're about similar size."

Merlin groaned. "I don't want to wear their clothes! They clearly haven't washed in days!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a girl."

"Oh you would say that, you lout!"

Arthur glowered. "Just get on with it."

"Ugh, whatever."

Infiltrating Hengist's banquet hall went without difficulty. The men inside were shouting in anticipation as they crowded around what appeared to be a massive cage.

Above the uproar, the familiar screeching of wilddeoren resounded through the hall. It was through the slim gaps of the amassed mercenaries, that Arthur caught his first glimpse of Guinevere, sitting behind the bars of the cage.

His blood turned to ice.

With adrenaline fueling him and a sword in each hand, Arthur launched himself forward and onto the crowd, using their backs as stepping stools and catapulting himself over the tops of the bars and into the cage.

The wilddeoren squealed and growled, standing taller than any man and emitting a putrid stench. Arthur fended the monster off with a swift slash of his sword, gaining enough time to reach over and slash apart the bindings keeping Guinevere and another man tied back-to-back.

Heart in his throat, Arthur tossed his extra sword towards the freed man and grabbed onto Guinevere, pulling her until she stood safely behind him.

It was as they fought against the screeching beast, that Arthur recognized the man fighting at his side as Lancelot.

Above the bedlam of shouts, Arthur called, "What are you doing here, Lancelot?"

"I came to save Gwen," he shouted. "What about you?"

"Likewise," Arthur said through gritted teeth, focused on slaying the wilddeoren, rather than thinking too deeply on Lancelot's words.

Lancelot had proven himself a noble man once, despite his common background. If he had come across Guinevere being captured, it would only make sense that he'd strive to rescue her.

They continued to drive back the beast, turning as they began to back away, towards a black passageway leading into a tunnel. It appeared to be their only escape.

"Get behind us," Arthur called, making sure Guinevere remained safe. When he caught sight of Hengist drawing his sword, his eyes swept desperately through the crowd as he told Lancelot, "The tunnels. It's our only chance."

His search was futile. He couldn't see his wayward servant.

"MERLIN!"

And then Arthur saw him, crawling on the floor near the bars of the cage.

The relief that flooded him was staggering.

"Don't sit there cowering," Arthur snapped, nerves frayed. "Let's go!"

He fended off the screeching wilddeoren until Merlin was climbing and clumsily falling over the top of the cage. Without wasting a second, Arthur gripped him by the back of his vest and launched Merlin behind him, towards the entrance of the tunnel.

"After them!"

Leaving Hengist and his men to fight against the beast, Arthur followed the others down into the dank tunnels and fled. But when he realized that Guinevere was no longer by his side, Arthur lurched to a halt, turned, and ran back. Fortunately, she was not far behind.

"Guinevere! We have to go!" he urged her, grasping her by the arm and tugging her down the passageway.

Arthur gave Guinevere a gentle push forward to keep her going and turned back around when he couldn't hear Merlin's clumsy footsteps behind him. He ascended the tunnel once more and paused when he heard Lancelot's voice.

"―see you're still up to your old tricks, Merlin."

Arthur froze, just outside of the light cast by the torches.

"It's probably best you don't tell anyone about that," Merlin warned him, though he sounded friendly enough.

When he heard rocks shifting under their feet, Arthur turned and hurried down after Guinevere, thoughts awashed with dismay.

Lancelot knew.

Although it was said in so little words, there was no doubt in Arthur's mind. Lancelot knew that Merlin had magic. And he hadn't sounded at all frightened, or even the least bit bothered. He'd sounded…pleased?

Regardless, it was clear that Merlin had been right to trust Lancelot with his secret, despite the fact that he'd known the man for less than a month. And wasn't that difficult to forget? It had been Lancelot this and Lancelot that and it had succeeded in grating on Arthur's every last nerve.

Arthur had certainly never inspired that kind of awe in Merlin's voice.

It wasn't until he'd knighted and befriended the man himself that he'd realized Merlin's admiration had been well earned.

But Merlin had known Arthur for nearly two years, and had never once hinted at his secret.

Of course he hadn't. I'm the bloody crowned prince of Camelot.

Shoving aside his turbulent thoughts, Arthur continued to run, making sure Guinevere was able to keep up alongside him.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, they ran across an iron grate which barred them from escape.

"It's good to see you both," Lancelot gasped behind them, pausing to catch his breath. "Where are your knights?"

"It's just us," Arthur admitted haltingly, as he searched for a way to break them out.

He'd forgotten how kind Lancelot was. Perhaps that's why Merlin had decided to trust him so earnestly?

"We've got to keep moving," he called as he snapped the lock and pushed open the bars with a grating squeal.

When he turned, it was to find Lancelot tenderly holding onto Guinevere's hand.

Arthur's heart dropped and the space between them suddenly felt suffocating.

He turned away sharply, urging Merlin forward. Guinevere followed soon after.

And then Lancelot was there, sincerely speaking, "Thank you, Arthur. We owe you our lives."

Arthur couldn't push any words past the anger and hurt balled up in his airways. So, he offered Lancelot a brief nod, before turning away and following after Merlin and Guinevere.

Their journey was tense with the weight of words unspoken, and Arthur was wound up so tightly that he could only continue to push them forward. It wasn't until they were high up across the Mountains of Andor, as the skies turned gray, that Merlin said, "Arthur, I don't think they're sending anyone after us. We should rest."

"Yes, I agree," Lancelot said. "We won't be any safer if they catch us bone-weary."

"Of course," Arthur said curtly. "Pick a spot. I'll gather some firewood."

Without a word, Merlin followed at his heels, silently searching for dry wood alongside him.

"Arthur―"

"Don't," Arthur cut him off, his nerves chafed raw with bitter regret. "Now isn't the time for your optimism, Merlin."

Merlin huffed. "If not now, then when?"

Arthur finally turned to him and met his gaze with a tired expression. "Perhaps after I've had some sleep."

Merlin's features softened. "Very well."

They finished gathering firewood quickly after that and returned to Lancelot and Guinevere sitting against a rotting log, speaking quietly.

Arthur gritted his teeth and helped Merlin build a fire, trying to keep himself distracted.

And then they sat, the fire burning between them, the silence loud and ringing in Arthur's ears.

"I'm surprised you would undertake such a rescue mission, with just the two of you," Lancelot broke the stillness as he gestured between Arthur and Merlin.

"My father would not risk the lives of his knights for a servant," he admitted quietly, unable to fend off a stab of hot shame.

"And yet you disobeyed him and came here anyway," Lancelot continued to point out.

Arthur wished he wouldn't. And for a moment, he struggled to reply, well aware of Guinevere's eyes on him. It felt as though he were being cut open and his feelings put on display, and he burned with the humiliation of it.

"The truth is, I only came because Morgana begged me."

Arthur accidentally met Guinevere's hurt expression across the crackling fire and dropped his eyes, stomach churning with regret. But it was too late to take it back.

"I think I'll get some rest," Guinevere said.

Arthur kept his gaze cast aside. "We should all get some rest."

"I'll stand guard for a while," Lancelot volunteered.

Arthur rose to his feet and walked a ways off, ducking under the bough of an alder tree until he was out of sight.

He leaned back against its trunk, heart heavy in his chest, his breathing labored. Fierce dismay twisted inside of him until it laced too tight, a band that constricted his throat.

"If she feels as you do, she'll wait for you."

The echo of Merlin's assurances was now an embittered voice in his head, distorting until it grew razor-sharp with mockery and contempt.

Arthur fisted his hands as he shoved the unexpected hurt far down into the depths of his heart, where he would no longer be forced to confront it. He'd been right. Nothing could ever happen between himself and Guinevere.

He'd been a fool to believe otherwise.

Later, he would return to Lancelot gone and Guinevere in tears, but he would find no comfort in it, for Arthur would still not have Merlin's trust nor Guinevere's affections. Lancelot would take that with him. The only thing he could be satisfied with, was knowing that he'd protected them, just as he'd promised he would.

A/N: Just got back into town, so here's a brief update! Hope you enjoyed! :)