I'm sorry this has been so long. Through personal issues that I'm not going to go into, I was unable to write as much as I could and then had the world's worst writer's block. However long between the updates, just know that I will finish this, no matter how long it takes and won't ever abandon it. I can't promise when the next update will be, who knows what life will throw my way next. Just know that it is coming.
Thank you.
Merlin didn't know how guards hadn't come running considering how much he was yelling at Acrotus to stop. It didn't seem to matter that his shouts were muffled by the piece of shirt in his mouth, he knew that he was making enough noise. If someone had been out in the corridor, they would have heard him. It also confirmed his suspicions that Acrotus had only gagged him to stop him from encouraging Arthur to fight back. Considering everything that the prince had been through, he wouldn't necessarily think about the consequences of his actions, more just the desire to get away from the abuse.
Merlin was struggling and pulling at the chains as much as he could, but whatever the sadistic man had forced down his throat seemed to be stopping his magic from working. He could feel it there, beneath the surface, but it was like trying to cup water in his bare hands, it simply trickled away from him. He wrenched at the manacles, almost grunting with the effort as he tried to tear himself free. The rational thought that it was nothing more than a man against chains didn't register in his mind, he just wanted to do something to make it all stop.
The only blessing that he could think of was that Arthur passed out not long after Acrotus began to assault him. The noble snorted before pulling out, pushing Arthur away from him and causing the prince's limp body to fall back against the table. Acrotus turned to face Merlin, his hand striping his own cock now that Arthur was no longer doing it for him, the smirk on his face only faltering slightly as he came.
"What did you think, enjoy the show?" Merlin shook his head, tears pricking at his eyes. He had never felt so helpless in all of his life. He had saved Arthur from Dunran, got him out of that absolute hell hole, only to be forced to watch as the prince was attacked again. Acrotus leaned over, tugging the gag out of Merlin's mouth before returning to Arthur. His fist gripped the prince's hair as he pulled his head up before taking hold of Arthur's chin and turning his head from side to side. He almost looked like he was inspecting the prince, and Merlin had a feeling that he was checking Arthur had only just passed out rather than anything more drastic. In a way, it came as a relief to Merlin as well when Acrotus let Arthur's head drop back down to his chest again before turning to face the warlock. It was a sign enough that Arthur was still alive, and whilst that was the case, Merlin had something to fight for.
"Why are you doing this?" His voice was hoarse from the yelling, but he wasn't sure if it would have come out as anything more than a whisper anyway. He didn't have the strength, not after watching Arthur go through that.
"Did you not see the look in his eye?" Acrotus grinned, moving across the room as he wiped his hand on a rag before throwing it in the fire. When he came to a stop next to Merlin, he ran a finger down the captive warlock's cheek. "Utterly defeated, like he knew his place. His words mean nothing any more, his spirit is broken."
"Arthur will never break to someone like you," Merlin whispered, his voice holding both a promise and a threat. He couldn't accept that that was the act to push Arthur over the edge that they had been struggling so desperately to get him back from. He had to believe that Arthur would carry on fighting, that they would find a way of getting out of this. But at the same time, he knew that everyone reached a breaking point. Arthur was strong, there could be no denying it. But even he could only be pushed so far before snapping.
"Are you sure about that? Anyway, you shouldn't be worrying about your prince, but yourself. You are a powerful tool, Merlin."
"I'm no one's tool." Merlin found that sheer fury was beginning to overcome the desperation from before. He had been angry as he had watched Acrotus violate Arthur, he couldn't deny that. But he had also been scared, scared for his friend and what their tormentor was going to do to him. If he was completely honest, Merlin had been scared for himself as well. He hadn't been this defenceless for a long time, and for it to happen at a time like this..? The fear had clouded his anger, making him scramble for his magic.
This time, however, the fury cut straight through him like a sword. He only just bit back a gasp as he felt the magic rush through his body, flooding his eyes and causing the fire to spit angrily. Acrotus grinned.
"No? Then why do I know precisely how to wield? Few words and I know precisely what to say to get your magic to react. You thought that you couldn't use it before, didn't you, Merlin? Now try and stop yourself."
"What? What are you doing to me?" Merlin knew that he was yelling again, struggling to pull the magic back in. But Acrotus seemed to be right, he couldn't get a grip on his power as it continued to leak from him. His head was spinning and it felt like his blood was boiling.
"It didn't work before because I didn't want it to. Now, however, I'm showing you precisely what a tool you are." Acrotus reached up, unchaining the warlock from the wall. Merlin took a step forward, only for his knees to buckle as his magic continued to flood from him. He hit the floor, groaning as his fingers scrabbled against the wood, trying to find something to grip onto, something to ground him.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Uther's going to want to get Arthur out of Camelot if he doesn't think his precious son is safe there. I have a country estate, one that I would be generous enough to lend to the prince in order for him to recuperate from the tragic betrayal of finding out that his servant, his friend¸ was a filthy sorcerer." Acrotus' foot found Merlin's stomach, flipping him over and causing Merlin to land on his back. He was gasping now, sweat running down his face as he tried to pull the magic back in.
"Now you just stay there and leak power like a good little sorcerer whilst I go and get the guards. Won't be long." With those parting words, Acrotus strode from the room. Merlin yelled after him, trying to do something to stop the man, but he was out of control. The fire was burning brighter now, and he knew that it wouldn't take long before the rooms themselves were set ablaze.
Why couldn't he stop himself? How was it that Acrotus had made him lose control so spectacularly? Merlin had a feeling that he was the reason Arthur had been raped again, that Acrotus had known that would be the act to push the warlock over the edge. He had obviously been watching them ever since Merlin had found his prince if he knew this well what to do.
But Merlin knew he couldn't think about that now. He had to get out of here, he had to stop the magic before someone saw and he was dragged off to be executed. He knew that he could escape, but he wouldn't have been able to stay in Camelot. That was where Arthur needed him, he had to be at his prince's side like he always had been. Otherwise all of this would have been for nothing, Acrotus would win.
Yet it was easier said than done. His head was spinning, his breath coming in short and ragged gasps. And that was only from rolling onto his hands and knees in order to try and crawl from the door. Glancing up towards the door, Merlin winced as he caught sight of Arthur, still bound and slumped against the table. His magic seemed to sense his gaze, and the ropes broke with a snap. Rather than falling forward, Merlin could only watch as Arthur seemed to be floated up onto the bed before being gently lowered onto the softness of the mattress.
That fact alone gave Merlin courage. He hadn't told his magic to do that, he wasn't telling it anything, for he couldn't. But it showed him that no matter how much Acrotus goaded him, no matter how much control he thought he had, Merlin would never be able to turn against Arthur. If the man was planning to use the magic as a way of making sure not only that Merlin was killed, but that everyone thought he had been the one to hurt Arthur, he was going the wrong way about it. No sooner had Arthur been lowered onto the bed when Merlin felt yet another burst of magic tear from him.
His head rose to clutch his head as it sent shooting pains through him. But the fire didn't spark, there seemed to be no sign of what had just happened. Gritting his teeth, Merlin forced his head up, leaning back against the wall for support as he tried to make sure there had been no damage. It was only because of the magic that was flowing through him that meant he was able to see the sight that greeted him. No one else would be able to unless they too had magic, but Merlin found that his breath was taken away.
A golden orb had settled over Arthur. Merlin knew without having to think about it that it was a shield of some sort, like the ones he had been constructing around the camps in order to make sure that the prince was safe. But whether it was just because his magic was out of control or because this was different, he didn't feel it draining him in the same way. It was as if the magic was coming from a hidden reserve in him, a desire to protect his destiny no matter what fate was against them. Arthur's breathing had eased, turning steady and deep and Merlin knew that he was asleep. He also knew that Arthur would remain asleep until the magic thought that he was ready to awaken again.
Somehow, that force of magic - especially as it was used to do what it had been created for, protecting Arthur – seemed to take the edge of the burning sensation Merlin could feel running through him. He was able to take a deep breath, able to somehow stumble to his feet without falling over. He could still feel that the magic was being pulled from him, but rather than going in an uncontrollable rush, it seemed to have slowed down to a trickle. Protecting Arthur had taken the ferocity out of it and Merlin stumbled upwards. His hand was resting on the wall and he had to steel himself in order to step away.
His legs threatened to buckle as he stumbled over to the bed. He gave in and let them when he reached it, his upper body cushioned on the blankets even as he fell down. Leaning forward as best he could, Merlin could only watch in wonder as his hand passed through the shield. A warmth settled into the hand, a comforting and soothing feeling, and Merlin could only hope that Arthur was feeling the same thing. Maybe the combination of the sleep and the shield would be what he needed for his body to heal and for his soul to at least rest enough. Merlin knew there was a chance Arthur may never heal from this, but he was going to give his prince every fighting chance he had.
"I promise I won't go far." Merlin whispered, gently tucking the blankets around Arthur to keep him warm. He couldn't go far, he couldn't leave him at Acrotus' mercy. But with the shield in place, he knew that for as long as it lasted, the sadistic man wouldn't be able to touch the prince. His magic was still spilling from him though, he knew that he couldn't stay here. At the end of the day, if Acrotus could persuade Uther of the truth, make him realise that Merlin was a sorcerer, the consequences would be no different than if the king had turned up whilst Merlin was still bound. He had to get away, he had to regain control of himself before anyone else was hurt. After all, Arthur was not the only person here in Camelot that Merlin cared for, and he didn't want to see if his out of control reaction was the same if anyone else was hurt by Acrotus' hand.
Until he got the drug out of his system, he had to get away from Camelot.
"I'll be back." He knew that he was promising himself as much as Arthur, but stumbled for the day. The magic would continue to watch over the prince and help him heal whilst Merlin was gone. How he knew, Merlin wasn't sure. But Acrotus seemed to have just opened a deeper source of magic in the warlock than Merlin knew existed. He found himself wishing that Kilgarrah was still under the castle, but then grinned. That is what he would do. He would go to their usual clearing and summon the dragon. He would be able to help Merlin regain control, he would tell him what needed to be done to not only free Arthur, but to stop Acrotus having such a hold over him as well. His mind made up, Merlin lurched for the door.
He had barely made it out when he heard footsteps. He was sickened by the fact that even Acrotus' own guards had disappeared, it meant the noble had clearly believed that his hold over the two of them was that strong that there was no chance of escape. Wondering what the man would think when he got back to find Merlin gone and Arthur resting, Merlin let a grin cross his lips as he stumbled forward.
He knew that he was never going to be able to get to the end of the corridor in time to be out of sight before whoever it was emerged. Considering the way his magic was acting, his every sense was heightened almost painfully and Merlin knew without seeing that Acrotus wasn't approaching with the guards.
He was coming with Uther.
Just in time, Merlin managed to force his trembling legs to move forward. It took a great deal of stumbling and he almost crashed into the opposite wall, but the long hanging tapestry would hide him for long enough whilst the two men entered the room. His heart was pounding hard as they approached, knowing what Acrotus had planned.
Uther had been worried about his son, not only his abduction, but his subsequent recovery. If he saw Arthur the way Acrotus had left him, bound to the table and clearly having been violated again, with a warlock in the same room, magic pouring from him, Merlin knew that he would have never had made it to an execution. Uther would have killed him there and then, not letting anyone have the chance to explain.
It would mean that Acrotus would have won, yet this time, Merlin wasn't sure if he could blame Uther. It was true that the king's hatred of magic made Merlin's very existence a constant battle. But that wouldn't have necessarily been because of the magic, it would have been because his son had been hurt and Uther believed that he could see the one responsible.
But with Arthur resting peacefully and no warlock to be seen, Merlin knew that he had brought himself some time. After all, Uther didn't appreciate being interrupted for nothing, and he would have been more angry than he would have ever expressed at the possibility they could have disturbed Arthur when his son was finally resting peacefully. Merlin held his breath as they drew closer, but no one so much as glanced in his direction as the two men entered the room.
Forcing himself to wait a beat before moving, Merlin closed his eyes to see if he could regain any control. A crash from further down the hall indicated a vase smashing, and he knew that he was still out of control. As quickly as he could – which wasn't that fast considering his vision was beginning to weave – the warlock set off down the corridor. The sound of guards patrolling had him diving into another alcove and he paused, thinking hard.
He had initially thought of going back to Gaius first, seeing if the old man had any advice or even just grabbing a few supplies before running from the castle. But he didn't have time, he didn't want Acrotus to know who he had been in contact with any more than the man already did in case he took his annoyance at being tricked out on them. It was going to be hard sneaking out in the middle of the day, but Merlin knew he had no choice.
It was time to leave Camelot.
He just hoped the magic kept Arthur asleep until he got back, for both of their sakes.