Hidden Motives

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it; I think you will! Let me know!

Chapter 14

Gwaine and Lancelot listened to Gaius repeat the tale of Veneficus with less awe than Merlin had, but with the same sense of the incredible secrecy of the city. But none of them had time to revel too much in their find and as soon as the story had been explained they set to the task of forming a new plan.

It made sense for Merlin, Gwaine and Lancelot to take up the task of climbing down into the ruins of the city, but Merlin knew that Gwaine's presence would limit how he could use his magic, and if for any reason he did end up facing Sythe, then he wanted to be using the full potential of his magic. As such, he turned his attention to protecting Gwen and assigning Gwaine the task of doing so.

'As long as I'm hidden, I won't need protecting,' Gwen argued as soon as Merlin voiced the suggestion, which was quickly followed by Gwaine refusing to be left behind.

'It will be easier for two of us to sneak by unnoticed,' Lancelot added.

'Whose side are you on?' Gwaine huffed. 'If anything, Merlin should be staying behind and protecting Gwen. You and I are the knights. We're meant to be saving the Prince, not watching Merlin chase after a sorcerer.'

'I've got more experience with sorcerers and magical creatures than any of you,' Merlin protested. 'I'll be better at guessing how Theo will react.'

'Then the three of us go after we've hidden Gwen,' Gwaine said before sitting down as if the matter was closed. Merlin sighed inwardly; this was going to be difficult. Gwaine's instincts were to fight and to be in a place of action, not looking after Gwen who, as she had said, probably would be fine on her own.

'It's still better for only two of us to go,' Merlin tried again carefully. 'But,' he carried on, 'maybe you can do something else Gwaine.'

He said nothing, but gave Merlin his attention. The fact of the matter was, that if this was going to work, they had to delay Theo finding out that Arthur had been rescued for as long as was possible. Based on Gwen's information that Theo had disappeared late on in the afternoon, it stood to reason that he wouldn't bother returning until the following morning, maybe even later than that. If they could rescue Arthur early in the evening today, and then distract Theo in the morning, they would have nearly a day to convince Uther that the current Prince was an imposter. With that assured, they could rally a defence and, hopefully, defeat Sythe through sheer force. And, Merlin added mentally to himself, with a few well timed magical attacks. Unless of course, Gaius came up with anything more certain in between times.

Gwaine seemed to decide that maybe creating distractions was a good enough reason to leave the rock climbing and rescue to Lancelot and Merlin. That settled, they began discussing the best distractions; things that Theo would have no choice but to address if he was to keep up his pretence of being Prince Arthur. Before they came up with anything, however, Gwaine stood up and got dressed in his guard disguise.

'Leave it to me,' he told them, heading towards the door.

'Gwaine, where are you going?' Merlin asked him incredulously.

'Few things to sort out first; you want a distraction, you'll get one. I'll be back in a few hours to relocate the damsel in distress,' he added, winking at Gwen. With that he was gone.

'Shouldn't you stop him?' Gwen asked. Merlin looked over at Lancelot, but the knight just shrugged.

'He does that a lot. He always manages to come back unscathed.'

'As long as he doesn't get recognised, he'll be fine,' Merlin sighed, trying to convince himself that letting Gwaine on the loose in Camelot wouldn't be a disaster.

It didn't take much longer to put the finishing touches to their plan. Gwen went to the castle to try and retrieve another guard uniform and as much rope as they thought they would need to scale the rock face of the dragon cave, while Gaius set to work on finding out as much as he could about Sythe in the hopes that it would provide them with an advantage when they finally did have to face him and defeat him.

An hour or so later, Gwen reappeared with the rope; Merlin and Lancelot had already donned their disguises, with each of them wearing a second layer of either chainmail or leathers from the extra guard uniform.

'Good luck,' Gwen told them, her smile wary.

'Don't worry about us,' Merlin assured her. 'Just make sure Gwaine takes you somewhere safe. And don't forget to send Theo the note saying you feel ill. The last thing we need is him coming to find you and realising you've gone.'

'Gaius says he'll keep him away if he comes to ask how I am.'

'Good, then we'll see you in a day or so.'

'Be careful,' Lancelot added.

'You too.'

With that, they headed back into the castle.

Although Merlin was sure scaling the dragon cave would be difficult, their first obstacle was getting down there without rousing suspicion. Entering the castle had been straightforward enough with their disguises, but there was no way that the prison guards would let them casually stroll down to Kilgharrah's cave, and knocking the men out would arouse too much suspicion.

So it was that they decided to take advantage of the changing of the guards which took place every three hours. Ten minutes before the next change was due, the two of them went down to the guards on the pretence of swapping shifts with them.

'A bit early aren't you?'

'Got back from patrols early,' Lancelot explained, changing his voice to a rougher version of his own. 'Thought you'd be grateful.'

'We're not complaining,' the second guard said. 'Thanks.'

As soon as they were gone, Merlin scrawled down a note for the actual guards -who would be arriving very soon- explaining that their predecessors had been called away on a patrol, but had been given permission to leave their post temporarily as the change over was due shortly.

'You think that will be enough?' Merlin asked.

'Trust me; they won't question it,' Lancelot assured him. Satisfied by the knight's confidence, Merlin left the note in an obvious place at the table and then snuck back up the stairs to retrieve the rope that they had left behind a tapestry. Soon the two of them had followed the corridors from the dungeons and were quickly making their way down the staircase to the platform where Merlin had gone to speak to Kilgharrah so many times in the past and often with such dire consequences.

Now, however, when Merlin looked around the vast cavern, he noticed things that had never occurred to him before; things that should have suggested to him, that the vast place was not just a cave, eroded over the years by the force of nature. The rock pillars that he had assumed had been formed over hundreds of years, now appeared to be spaced more evenly, as if by design, and the appearance of the rough walls did not seem to be linked to the gradual erosion that he had witnessed in other structures; they were not smooth enough. Instead, the uneven surfaces, spoke of trauma and attack; huge impacts that had been intended to make the room unrecognisable from what it had once been.

He looked at the cavern with a new sense of its importance and history. Kilgharrah must have known what it used to be; he must have seen it when it was in all its glory. Had he been on the side of those who destroyed it or the ones who would have happily continued to enforce magical rule? Merlin guessed that it would be the latter. How much more bitterness would have been added to him at being chained in a place that he had known was once beautiful?

'You say you've been here before?' Lancelot asked.

'Many times; I visited, Kilgharrah.'

'I don't suppose he gave you any advice on how to get down to the bottom safely did he?'

'He gave me plenty of advice, but not that I'm afraid. Here…' he said as he watched Lancelot try and work out exactly where he could tie the end of the rope securely. Concentrating and holding out his hands, one towards the wall and one to hold the rope against it, Merlin uttered a spell.

'Tabesco quod reform teneo funis.' Instantly the rock at the tip of the rope seemed to melt and bubble. Carefully, Merlin pushed the rope into it about half a metre. As soon as he stopped, the rock seemed to solidify again. Merlin gave it a few experimental tugs and then handed it over to Lancelot to do the same, deciding that testing it against Lancelot's strength would be a much better way of checking it could hold them.

'Handy trick,' Lancelot told him, clapping him on the shoulder and then peering over the edge of the precipice as he threw down the rope. 'It's a long way to the bottom.

'I don't think we'll need to go all the way down. I think it's only so deep because they destroyed all the floors. Ten or twenty metres should be enough and then we should be able to see the ruins of the old corridors.'

'And if not?'

'I don't know,' he admitted. He wasn't giving too much thought to the 'and if not' scenario. He was just hoping that the path would reveal itself to them as they continued to try different things.

Between them, they decided that Merlin would make his way down the rope first. The idea did not sit comfortably with Merlin and it was only by imagining the situation that Arthur was in that he managed to push past the fear that seemed to strangle at his throat and send his heart pounding through his chest, and begin moving down the rope. As he did so, Lancelot lay flat on his stomach watching his friend shimmy down. Merlin was convinced that he was doing it with considerably less ease than Lancelot would in a few minutes time, but his awareness of the huge drop below made him forget his pride and focus on the rope in his hands and against his feet. As he disappeared further into the darkness, Merlin scanned the area carefully.

'What do you see?'

'It's too dark. Hold on.' He whispered the spell to create a small ball of blue light and directed it slightly away from himself; it grew in intensity as he did, illuminating a huge area of the cave.

'How about now?'

'Yes,' Merlin said excitedly. 'I can see something. A tunnel maybe, but it's tiny; nearly covered by fallen rocks. There's a ledge in front of it.' Sure enough, there, in the wall of the cave, was a small hole, big enough for them to squeeze through at a push, with a ledge about half a metre wide in front of it; evidently the remains of the floor. As Merlin looked around, though, he saw similar rock protrusions extending from the rock at that level. How much damage had the sorcerers done that the cave was barely recognisable as the grand room that it had once been?

'Any ideas about how to reach it?' he asked Lancelot. 'It's quite a long way.' He was currently dangling at least ten or eleven metres from the small hole; obviously this room hadn't lined up completely with the wall of the Main Hall above it.

'You'll have to swing.'

'What?'

'You'll have to swing and jump.'

'Jump?'

'Unless you can build a magical rope bridge,' Lancelot told him, an edge of amusement in his tone. Merlin considered the idea for several seconds longer than he really needed to in the hope that he could somehow construct that spell whilst dangling in mid-air, but he knew it was futile.

'Fine,' he muttered.

'Go lower then, until the arc of the swing will get you to the ledge.'

'It's not a very big ledge,' Merlin told him, hearing the fear in his voice, but he moved down a few more metres.

'You're doing great, Merlin. And don't worry; I'll help.'

'How are you going to-' but he stopped abruptly as he felt the rope beginning to move forward and back. 'Lancelot,' he called; a slight hysteria in his voice, as he looked up to see the knight pushing the rope.

'Just hold on and get ready to jump.'

Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but found that his voice seemed to have temporarily deserted him; that didn't happen very often.

As the seconds went by, Merlin began to feel sick with the motion of the rope, but there was no doubt that he was getting closer and closer to the ledge. Eventually he got to the point where he knew he could jump and land on the ledge, but his fingers seemed to freeze in place.

'Merlin?' Lancelot asked.

'Yeah, I…' he tried, but he didn't know what to say. He was swinging away from the ledge again.

'Merlin, you need to jump.'

Merlin closed his eyes and drew up a picture of Arthur in his head; imagined him being tormented by Theo, imagined his desperation to escape. He saw the anger and frustration that Arthur was no doubt living through and realised that he and Lancelot were the only people who could save him. With that Merlin opened his eyes and saw the ledge fast approaching. He timed it and tensed his muscles and then let go.

His momentum slammed him hard into the wall, but he managed to grab hold of some of the fallen rocks to steady himself.

'Merlin? Are you alright?'

'Yes, I made it. I'm on the ledge.'

Lancelot made considerably less work of it than Merlin had. He was soon swinging the rope back and forth, showing an upper body strength that Merlin could never hope to possess. With a final yell, the knight let go of the rope and flew towards Merlin. He teetered on the edge of the ledge for a few seconds as his momentum spun him sideways, but Merlin threw out his hand and steadied him.

'Thanks,' he breathed. He quickly gathered up the rope and forced the bundle in a gap between two of the boulders that blocked part of the entrance – boulders that Merlin now realised were the remains of the stone archway that must once have bordered the tunnel they were next to. 'After you then, Merlin,' he said when that was done. 'You're the one with the light.'

'Right,' Merlin nodded. He lowered himself onto his stomach, his feet dangling over the edge and then shuffled forward.

It took a long time to make their way through the tunnel, not least because it had been so badly damaged when the city was destroyed, but there was always a big enough gap for them to squeeze through, although magic had to be used on a few occasions to widen the passage by the smallest amount. Merlin hated doing it, knowing that if certain rocks were moved it could bring the whole tunnel crashing down, but they remained uncrushed. Merlin's head, on the other hand, was all but ringing as he continuously banged the helmet he was wearing against the roof. No matter what he tried, he didn't seemed to be able to compensate for the extra height. Eventually, at Lancelot's suggestion, they both removed them and looped their arms through the strap; dragging them along the floor.

Under normal circumstances, Merlin would have felt nothing but fear at being in such a confined unstable place, but the surroundings that he could see pushed aside all his anxieties. The more he looked, the more he realised that at one time this city would have been the most beautiful and impressive structure in the land. The black, polished stone of the corridors seemed to shine with its own illumination as soon as it caught the glow of his light, and the patterns and magical traits carved into what remained of the walls were breathtaking. Every image and symbol that had been etched into the stone seemed to be alive with its own uniqueness; seemed to thrum with its own hidden power. Merlin didn't know if Lancelot could sense it, but Merlin felt like he was walking through a part of his own soul. The magic resonated through him, but it had a strange neutrality about it; neither good nor bad. Perhaps it had lain dormant for so long that its original casters' intentions had faded, leaving only the power. Merlin could feel it entering him and merging with his desire to do good. By the time they reached the end of the tunnel and Merlin had passed through a final blockade of rubble into a huge room, he felt like his magic was thrumming through him so much more powerfully than he remembered in a long time.

As soon as Lancelot was through the tunnel, Merlin extinguished his light, instead grabbing a torch from one of the sconces on the wall and using magic to light it. Lancelot took it from him and pressed further into the immense darkness of the place.

'Can you feel the power in here?' Merlin whispered to him.

'I don't know. It feels very…real,' he muttered. 'I don't know how to explain it.' He shook his head and moved the torch around. 'This is the Court Room isn't it?'

'Yes. Arthur must be here somewhere.'

They moved forward, the flames casting shadows all around them. The room was enormous and the shadows scuttled in and out of each other, spreading out over vast distances into the room until Merlin felt himself jumping at every movement that he saw from the corner of his eye. He scanned the darkness frantically, looking for any sign of Arthur, feeling his frustration and despair increase with every second that passed, but eventually he saw something at the edge of the light.

'There!' he hissed to Lancelot and instantly the two of them were running forward.

On the ground, curled in on himself, looking so much younger than Merlin ever remembered seeing him, lay Arthur. Around his waist was a thick chain. His clothes were stained with blood and his hands were cracked and blistered. His face was pale and drawn and a deep sadness and grief seemed to emanate from him, even in his sleeping state. This was not the same Arthur that Merlin had known for years, not with that much defeat written across every inch of his face. Merlin felt his heart beat painfully in his chest as he looked at what had happened to his friend.

'Arthur,' he whispered, falling to his knees by the Prince and shaking his shoulders. He didn't respond, something which only alarmed Merlin more. Arthur never let his guard down. He could be awake and alert at the slightest sound. Lancelot tried as well, giving Merlin a look of deep concern as there was still no response.

'Arthur!' Merlin tried more forcefully, shaking him again. 'Wake up! You're wasting time!'

The Prince stirred slowly, painful breaths emerging from his cracked lips. His eyes opened and closed several times, rolling back and forwards in his head as if they couldn't find the energy or the strength to focus on anything, but eventually they opened and settled on Merlin.

Merlin felt a deep sadness spike through him as he looked into Arthur's eyes. They were lost, unsure… dead. There was no hope in them, no belief that he would ever get out of this situation. Merlin realised with shock that Arthur had given up.

'Arthur,' he whispered; his voice catching as he squeezed the man's shoulder. But the sound of his voice seemed to stir something in the Prince. His eyes went wide and, faster than Merlin would have thought possible, he shot up and backed away, crashing into the weight that the chain was linked to with so much force that even he cried out in pain. He stared at Merlin with an agonised disbelief and then he closed his eyes and bowed his head, holding it in his hands and shaking it. He looked up again as if to see if Merlin would still be there.

Merlin didn't know what to do. Never in all the time he had known Arthur had the Prince acted like this. He looked over at Lancelot, hoping he could shed some light on the situation, but he looked just as bewildered. Meanwhile, Arthur had looked away from Merlin and was now surveying the room with hard eyes. He turned around, looking everywhere; he closed his eyes and listened; he looked down at his hands, studying them intently, before finally returning his gaze to Merlin. Merlin faltered under the ferocious expression; never had Arthur looked at him with such rage.

'Arthur…?'

'This is cruel!' he shouted; his voice feral and rough. 'Enough of it! I demand that you stop!'

'Please, Arthur-' Merlin said, creeping forwards a few steps, moving towards the Prince like he was a wild animal.

'Don't speak! Don't you dare use him now! Enough!' He was backing away as he spoke, trying to get away from Merlin. On seeing this, Merlin stopped, not knowing what to do or how to help.'

'Arthur, it's me. It's Merlin.'

At the words, something snapped in Arthur. Merlin saw it flick across his face, like the slash of a sword coming down. He stood up straight, his mouth curled in a snarl.

'I will kill you,' he said, his voice low, but perfectly clear. And before Merlin could even register the movement, he found himself on his back on the floor, Arthur pinning him there; his hands slowly crushing Merlin's throat.

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