Thank you so much once again for the lovely reviews. This isn't over for Merlin yet, so it does continue to be a little harsh for our poor warlock.
Enjoy!
Merlin was dreaming.
Part of his mind knew that he was dreaming, that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. That didn't stop whimpers of distress falling from his lips as the boy tossed in the blanket that he had been wrapped in, trying to wake himself up. He didn't know Petra was begging Jarta to pull back the magic, to let Merlin wake up as another cry fell from him. Instead, he was trapped in his own mind as he watched Arthur turn against him, blaming Merlin for everything that had happened. The dreams grew more vivid with each passing moment and he could only watch, helpless in his dream, as Arthur drew his sword and lunged at him.
Just before Arthur's weapon went through his body, Jarta gave the command and Merlin's magic drew back, allowing him to wake up once more. Merlin jolted upright with a cry, realising that there were tears running down his face even as he got himself tangled up in the blanket. For a wild moment, he could only thrash on the floor, adamant that he had been caught and was just about to be put to death.
"Shh now, hush, Merlin, everything is alright…" Gentle hands were unwrapping him from the blanket and Merlin sucked in a shaky breath as Petra freed him. He finally managed to get his eyes open properly and shrunk back in on himself as he realised that he was looking up at Jarta. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for, only knew that the man had promised that he would be punished for keeping it quiet that he knew Arthur. Personally, Merlin didn't see what they could do to him that hadn't already been done – Jarta had his magic and they had used him to capture the person he looked up to the most. But at only thirteen and having had no training in dealing with things like this in the way that he was convinced Arthur had, even the threat of physical pain was enough to make him terrified.
But now was clearly not the time. Jarta just looked down at him, scoffed and turned on his heel to walk away. Swallowing hard, it was only then that Merlin realised that he was shaking.
"I hate him. I hate him, I hate him…" He mumbled under his breath, pulling away from Petra and trying to regain control of his runaway emotions.
"You know not to say things like that, not where people can hear you." Petra scolded lightly. Merlin knew that she was only looking out for him, but right now, he didn't care. He was a combination of angry and frustrated, fed up of being used as a slave with no one listening to what he had to say about it.
"I don't care. He can't hold my magic forever, and when I get control back…"
"That's enough, Merlin. You are a child, you shouldn't talk about things like this, it will take you down a path that you do not want to go." How Petra could still sound so optimistic, so full of hope when she was just as a much of a slave to Jarta's will as he was, Merlin had no idea.
"I don't want to be his slave anymore!" Merlin cried, but this time, he allowed her hand to rub soothingly over his back. She didn't say anything, but neither did she need to. Merlin knew that he couldn't run, not when his magic was still obeying Jarta's every thought. Instead, he needed a way of breaking the enchantment, or at least giving control over to someone else rather than a cold blooded murderer. Someone that could make use of his magic, but not in a bad way. Someone like…Arthur.
"Where is he?" Merlin whispered, knowing that whilst it had been foolish to shout about how much he hated Jarta, it would be even worse if they were caught talking about the hostage. During their months together in the camp, both Merlin and Petra had discovered that anything that the bandits considered to be "business" was not something that they were allowed to discuss. Merlin was only thankful that Jarta hadn't literally forbidden Merlin to talk about it.
"Around the back of the tents." Petra breathed in response, her hands busying themselves with folding the blanket that Merlin had been wrapped in. The young warlock climbed to his feet, pausing for a moment as the world spun almost alarmingly around him before taking a tentative step forward.
"Merlin…" The boy knew that Petra was about to try and stop him, claiming that it would be too dangerous. In a way, he knew that she was right, if he was caught around there, Jarta's fury would know no limits. But at the same time, Arthur had remembered who he was, and he obviously thought that Merlin had had a hand in his capture. The younger boy simply had to try and explain, and if he could, help Arthur to escape. He offered Petra a small smile to say that he appreciated her concern and the woman sighed, knowing that he wouldn't listen to her warnings. Instead, she just nodded softly and disappeared into Jarta's tent. Squaring his shoulders, Merlin checked to make sure that no one was watching him, and ducked behind the tents.
He had to hide more than once when he heard a voice heading his way, but apart from that, Merlin somehow made it around to the back without being seen. It wasn't hard to spot Arthur, but Merlin gritted his teeth in annoyance when he saw that the prince was being guarded. Not that he seemed to be going anywhere, however. Arthur was sitting on the floor, his back against a sturdy pole. His hands were chained above his head to the pole, and although he had a glare on his face that caused a shiver to go down Merlin's spine, it was clear that he had been effectively restrained.
Wondering if he would perhaps be able to get away with it, Merlin approached the guard. It all depended on who it was, and Merlin nearly laughed aloud when the man turned to face him. It was the same man that had tried to help him on Merlin's very first night in the camp. That hadn't been the only occasion that he had put himself out for the child though, often sneaking him extra portions of food or allowing him closer to the fire when Jarta was in a bad mood.
"What are you doing here, Merlin?" The man sighed, sounding exasperated even if there was a small smile of greeting on his face. Merlin could see Arthur's head turn at the man's voice and the scowl on his face only deepened. It was that look that reminded Merlin that although Arthur was older than him, he was as much of a child in the bandit's eyes as the warlock was. For some reason, that gave him courage, but his silence hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Oh for heaven's sakes, Jarta is already furious with you, this is pushing it." The man muttered, moving off to one side slightly. Merlin frowned, taking a step forward in order to see what he was doing. A small fire was burning with a pot resting over it. As Merlin watched, the man spooned some into a bowl, handing it to Merlin with a spoon.
"You're the slave here, not me, you feed him." The way that it was said meant that Merlin did nothing but roll his eyes about his position, taking the offered bowl. Arthur's head, however, shot up and his eyes widened in something that could resemble pure shock as he watched Merlin approach him. The guard backed off a few spaces, clearly realising that Merlin wouldn't risk Jarta's anger just so that he could look at their prisoner. Merlin approached Arthur slowly, crouching down in front of him and dipping the spoon in the bowl.
"Don't." Arthur turned his head around, and Merlin recoiled as if the prince had slapped him at the contempt in his voice.
"You need to eat."
"I won't let you poison me." Arthur muttered, still facing the other way, and Merlin could only stare at him in anguish.
"You think that I would hurt you?" He cried, forgetting to keep his voice as he placed the bowl on the floor before he threw it at something. Or rather, someone.
"Oh, I don't know." Arthur responded sarcastically, gesturing to where his hands were bound over his head and causing the chains to rattle loudly. Merlin felt as if the sound had been intensified somehow, pounding through his head and causing him to flinch again.
"That wasn't my fault." He muttered, glaring at the floor. How was he supposed to explain what was going on? Would Arthur even listen as soon as the word magic was mentioned? Was that why he was so angry, not that Merlin had helped capture him, but because he had used magic to do it.
"Of course not, you're only the slave." Arthur shot back, and Merlin jerked his head up. Never before had he felt as angry as he did in that moment, not even towards Jarta. It was bad enough having the bandits treat him like that, but somehow, having Arthur say it in such disgust made Merlin feel like a knife had been driven into his heart.
"Don't. Don't you dare call me that, don't you look down on me. Not you, just…don't..." The anger went almost as fast as it had come, and Merlin slumped against the ground, feeling exhausted. That had not been the first time that Jarta had used his magic to send him to sleep, and it always left him feeling lethargic and tired for a while after he had woken up. Rubbing a hand over his face, he didn't see the way that Arthur's expression softened slightly as he looked at the appearance of the warlock in front of him.
"What happened to you, Merlin?"
"Magic." Merlin muttered, without thinking about it. Arthur nodded seriously.
"It's evil."
"No, it's not." Merlin spat back. It was bad enough that Arthur had found out that way, not to mention finding out that Merlin was a slave here. The last thing that he was going to let the prince do was talk about magic like that. "It can be good, it can be beautiful… Unless it is in the wrong hands."
"And your hands aren't the right ones?" Arthur sounded almost as tired as Merlin felt as he rested back on the pole, and Merlin realised that it can't be comfortable having your hands bound above your head like that, with no way of getting any respite.
"It's not in mine." The warlock muttered. For the first time in months, he felt truly ashamed. "I had had enough of hiding, I had to run. I was born with magic, Arthur. Even the first time we met, I had it then. Mother says that I used it to heal you from a fever." Merlin purposefully kept his eyes down, not wanting to see Arthur's reaction to the knowledge that Merlin had already used his magic on him.
"I ended up here and Jarta, he…he did something that meant that he has control of my magic. I can't use it any more than you can use magic right now, it's all in his control. All of it." Punching the ground, Merlin breathed heavily for a few moments as he held back tears. Why had he been given magic, surely it had to be something more than being a slave for a bandit.
"I can't get away even if I try, and trust me, I've tried."
"So back at the camp, when you said that you were the bait…"
"I was telling the truth." Merlin muttered glumly, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. "I told them I would have no part of it, but someone found out that we had met before. I was only supposed to stay with the horses, and that was what I was doing. The man you killed when you…when you saved me, it was all a set up to get you away from the group and closer to me. I had no idea what they were going to do until I saw Jarta through the trees. I'm sorry."
"So am I." Arthur mumbled, and Merlin made himself look up again. Maybe there was hope for them to be friends yet?
"I never forgot you, you know." He said softly, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment. "It drove Mother mad how many times I told her that when I was old enough to leave home, I was going to come to Camelot and find you, that we would have all sorts of adventures together." Merlin was certain that he was not imagining the slightly smile on Arthur's face.
"I basically told my father the same thing. For weeks after we got back I kept trying to run away." Arthur admitted, a blush working its way over his face. "It took both Leon and Gaius hours before they got it through to me that my place was in Camelot. I was going to come back for you though. When I became Crown Prince officially, I was going to come back and get you. I have to admit though, Merlin, I don't think I'm the same person as I was back then."
"I could say the same." Merlin muttered, gesturing to himself as he did so. He certainly had changed from the wide eyed innocent boy that Arthur had first met. He had been through too much, he had seen too much in order to still be that person. He wasn't even sure he was the same person that he had been six months ago.
"So are you going to give me that stew or not?" A wide grin split over Merlin's face at Arthur's words and he nodded enthusiastically. He had dealt with enough drunken bandits to know that feeding a restrained prince wasn't going to be a hardship. He didn't know whether Arthur had yet accepted what he had said about the magic, but the fact that it wasn't Merlin who was in control of it must have made it easier. In a way, it wasn't Merlin who had magic right now, it was Jarta, meaning Arthur could think whatever he wanted. But the fact that he was allowing Merlin to feed him was enough to show that he still had some sort of trust for the boy who had once found him crouched in a bush, terrified out of his mind.
"They won't poison you, by the way." Merlin muttered, trying to get himself into a position that would make it easier for them both. "They need you alive to do any good."
Somehow, he could tell by the look on Arthur's face that hadn't come out quite as reassuring as Merlin had been hoping for. Smiling slightly in apology, Merlin didn't say anything else, but began to distract them both by giving Arthur the stew. He had no intention of letting the prince stay as a prisoner, so he needed to know that Arthur had the strength to run when the time came to it. If that meant acting his role as a slave, then so be it.
Merlin kept the spoon as steady as he could, almost biting his lip in concentration as he spooned the food into Arthur's mouth. He got most of the way through before he realised with a start that they were being watched. The bowl almost went flying as he whirled around, only to see Jarta and Dantor both standing there, watching them. Dantor looked amused, almost as if he knew that something was coming, whereas Jarta looked nothing short of furious. Merlin swallowed slightly, climbing to his feet in order to face them, putting himself in front of Arthur as he did so. At the back of his mind, however, he knew that they weren't there for the prince. They had come for him, and the fact that he had gone against Jarta's orders by seeking out Arthur.
"Are you trying to be big and brave again, Merlin? You know what we have said about that." Jarta began, almost conversationally, and Merlin shifted. When his master was angry, he shouted. When his was furious, however, he had a mocking note to his voice, something that caused shivers to go down Merlin's spine and meant he was almost trembling where he stood. Right now, Jarta sounded more patronising than the child had yet to hear him, meaning he knew just how much trouble he was in. He could almost sense that Arthur was tensing behind him, and whilst part of him was slightly touched, he just needed the prince to keep himself out of trouble as much as he could.
"I was just giving him something to eat." He muttered, trying to avoid making eye contact with the bandit. Whilst Jarta was still able to make him shudder, Dantor simply scared him. The other man had never let it go that Merlin had gotten away with vanishing their gold and not replacing it, a fact that Jarta seemed to be aware of. Whenever he felt like his slave needing punishing, Jarta let Dantor do it.
"You lied to me, Merlin."
"I didn't! I just…didn't tell you the whole truth." Merlin swallowed as Jarta just continued to stand there, looking a mixture of amused and bored by the proceedings. In a way, Merlin knew why. At the end of the day, the warlock couldn't do anything of a consequence without the man knowing about it and being able to stop him with just a thought.
"You didn't tell me that you knew our prince there. Luckily one of the boys overheard you talking to Petra."
"Technically you never asked." Most people would have learnt after six months when to keep their mouths shut. But Merlin had never been good at not having the last word, it was why it had been so hard for him back in Ealdor to keep himself to himself despite the other boys' teasing. Here in the camp, if he didn't try and stick up for himself slightly, he would be at everyone's beck and call. Answering back tended to annoy the bandits, and after Jarta was forced to step in more than once to stop Merlin being killed, he had forbidden the rest of them to use Merlin's services, claiming that the boy was his. It had been Merlin's way of surviving, yet he still hadn't learnt when to stay quiet.
"Stay still, Merlin." Merlin gasped at the icy note in Jarta's voice even as he felt his eyes flash as his magic responded to the man's wishes. He was thrown onto all fours, and it didn't matter how much he strained against the hold, his own magic was too strong for him to struggle physically. He was able to move his head, however, and could see Dantor approaching after a nod from Jarta.
"No! No, please, don't!" Any attempt at being brave in front of Arthur vanished as the thirteen year old realised what was about to come. He could feel his body trembling in the hold even as Dantor approached slowly, chuckling as he did so.
"I told you that I wasn't going to let that go unpunished."
"Please, no, I didn't do anything. Please, make him stop, I haven't done anything wrong!" Tears were flowing from his eyes as Dantor reached him, his foot connecting with Merlin's ribs. Yet the child didn't move, still held in position by the magic and Merlin could do nothing but grunt, his breath catching at the blow.
"Please, I'll be good, I swear…"
"You say that every time, boy. Dantor, show him what happens when he defies me like that." Jarta propped himself up against a tree, arms folded over his chest as he glared down at Merlin. The warlock knew that he must have crossed a line this time, something that meant that Jarta was not going to let the matter go, no matter how much Merlin grovelled. His arms shook with anticipation over what was to come, yet his face flushed in humiliation. He would do anything to stop this from happening here, in front of Arthur, yet he knew that if he made his thoughts known, it would only make it far worse. They would make him do something worse if they knew how upsetting it was for the child to be punished in front of someone that he had come to idolise over the years. Instead, Merlin gritted his teeth as Dantor kicked him again.
"No!"
"Leave him alone." Arthur's voice might have been barely above a whisper compared to Merlin's scream, yet everyone heard it. It seemed to hold a commanding note that Merlin had never heard before, not even from Jarta. In that moment, he realised that Arthur was not only a leader, he was the future king. It seemed that the power to make men listen to him had already been drilled into him considering the way that Dantor stopped, glancing back to Jarta for instructions.
The lead bandit pushed himself away from his tree, eyebrows raised in amusement. He walked forward and crouched down next to Merlin, take the warlock's chin in his hand and turning the boy's head towards Arthur even as the rest of Merlin's body remained locked in position.
"Did you hear that, boy? The mighty prince thinks that we will listen to him. But the fact that he is willing to speak up for the sake of a slave -," he paused long enough to let go of Merlin, releasing the magic at the same time and causing the boy to crash down onto the floor,- "means that we might be able to have a little fun."
As Jarta straightened up again, Merlin curled in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he tried to protect himself from any other blows that might come his way. Nothing happened, however, apart from a hammering sound. Carefully lifting his head, Merlin swallowed down a sob when he saw Dantor attach another set of manacles to a pole that was just opposite Arthur.
"No, please…" He moaned, shaking his head slightly even as Dantor finished what he was doing and walked over to Merlin. Some sort of signal must have been given when the child wasn't looking, for Dantor didn't even hesitate but grabbed Merlin by the back of the collar. Choking slightly, Merlin offered very little resistance as he was dragged over to the pole and his arms forced above his head. Letting his head rest back on the post, Merlin simply sighed as the manacles were locked around his wrists. Considering what he thought was about to happen, this came as something of a relief.
"Dantor, guard them. Keep your distance, let them speak all they like, it might work to our benefit. But let no one approach. The plan is the same with the prince, he is to be given food and water at regular intervals, I need him in good condition if the ransom is to be paid. As for our little slave there, he gets nothing until his master sees fit. No one is to approach him, not even Petra. In fact…"
Jarta turned back to Merlin and the warlock groaned as he felt his magic being used yet again. A sort of shield settled over him, and whilst he could still hear and see everything perfectly clearly, he knew what had just happened. No one would be able to get close to him until Jarta lowered the boundary again. He mutely shook his head, eyes pleading with his master to let him go, but Jarta simply glared at him one last time and walked off. Dantor set up position a little way off, and Merlin realised only then that the original guard was no longer there. Had it been a trick, had he gone to get Jarta whilst Merlin had been talking to Arthur?
"Are you okay?" Whilst Dantor did seem to be out of earshot, Arthur kept his voice low and soft. Merlin sniffed, drawing his legs up to his chest and wincing as his newly bruised ribs protested at the movement.
"I'm going to kill him. One day I'll get free from him and then he will suffer."
"Don't think like that, Merlin. It will get you nowhere, trust me." In a way that he hadn't listened to Petra, Merlin found that he was listening to Arthur. After all, how could he not when he had spent years declaring the boy was his best friend, despite the fact that it had been years since they had seen each other.
"Why not? It's not like I'm ever going to be able to act on it, he has my magic." Merlin mumbled, craning his head forward so that he could rest it on his knees and sighing. Who was he kidding, he was never going to be free of Jarta whilst the spell remained in place that bound Merlin's magic to the man's will.
"I'll get you out of here." Six months ago, Merlin would have believed what Arthur said. He would have hoped that the prince would find a way and that it would only be a matter of hours before they were both running off. But six months as a slave had dampened Merlin's optimism and he just offered a small smile. He was still grateful that Arthur would think about trying to save him after finding out about his magic, even if he didn't think that it was actually possible.
"Maybe you should think about getting yourself out first." He muttered in response, feeling another wave of weariness flood through him. He didn't know if Jarta was doing anything new, or whether it was still the remnants of the earlier magic, but he was feeling utterly exhausted. Dropping his legs from his chest, he awkwardly curled them around the pole and leant his weight back on it, trying to get comfortable.
"Get some rest, Merlin." Arthur said softly, and Merlin might have made some comment back if it wasn't for the fact that he was now struggling to keep his eyes open. "I'm going to get us out of here, both of us. I promise."
Despite his scepticism, despite the fact that every time he had tried to run away, his own magic had dragged him back to face Jarta, Merlin found himself smiling at Arthur's words. In a type of innocence that only a child could possess, no matter what they went through, he found himself believing Arthur.
Maybe the prince would be able to find them a way out? Maybe he would free Merlin from Jarta? But right now, all Merlin could think about was the fact that they were back together again before he fell asleep, awkwardly chained to a pole.