A/N: Well, yeah, angst. I feel like I should put another trigger warning at the top of this chapter, so yeah. Self-harm trigger warning. AND I don't own Merlin.

This chapter is dedicated to Ravenclaw667 , who told me to be confident. :) Thanks!

So, my lovely readers, R&R!

Merlin POV

When they got back to the citadel, Arthur called an emergency council session to discuss Yara's fate. Merlin really just wanted to go to bed, to get some rest, but he followed Arthur dutifully as he made his way to the council chambers.

Merlin hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, worried for Yara. The cuffs on her wrists . . . he shuddered involuntarily. They had sent off a bad something, like an emptiness. The absence of even air and magic. Absently, Merlin rubbed at his wrists. They were sore from his time at the river, and he knew he should probably get something to stave off infection as soon as he got back to Gaius.

The council meeting went quickly. Quickly in a downward spiral. "Her running is only more evidence of her guilt, Sire," one of the men had said.

"She still has not said anything denying having a connection to the disappeared game," said another. Merlin should have guessed that that would have worried these men more than anything else.

And then the trump card. "She is a sorcerer. Your father would have killed her immediately. Sorcerers are evil, or have you forgotten, Sire?"

"I have not forgotten, thank you," Arthur's reply was cold, and the noble shrank back a little in his seat. "I know that many of the facts point to this girl's guilt, but I do not think killing her is the answer. She is too young."

"So you would banish her and wait for her to join with Morgana?" asked another man, whose beard was more grey than brown. "All sorcerers are evil and work for the downfall of Camelot. Have you ever met an innocent sorcerer? In any case, how do you know that this is her true age? Surely the villagers would have been able to apprehend a child, as you call her. Perhaps this is all a spell."

"We have taken precautions to make sure she cannot use magic," Arthur pointed out.

"Ah, but how do we know for sure how well these chains, these tempered metals work? Perhaps they cannot stop a spell already enacted. We do not know. And she speaks in a way unbefitting of a child, especially a girl."

"She has been on her own for a long time," Arthur said, and Merlin felt his heart leap at the thought that Arthur was defending Yara.

"Exactly. No girl that age could survive a winter on her own, not without using much magic to keep warm and stealing food. There are no reports of a young girl stealing food throughout the winter in the area she was found." The councilman leaned forward. "I implore you, my King, kill this monster before she joins Morgana and threatens Camelot."

"How do we know that is what she would do?" Arthur asked, and it was only because Merlin knew Arthur so well that he heard the exhaustion and unsureness beneath the authority in the King's voice. "She has shown no hate for Camelot, and spoken with respect at times."

"What about the threat she issued to you when she was being taken to the dungeon?" asked another lord, who was clothed in rick purple velvet. Merlin could remember only too well. 'Don't be a murderer, Arthur Pendragon. It will break your world around you.' That had been what Yara had said. Of course the council would see that as a threat. "If you let her go free, the innocents of Camelot will suffer for it."

"Very well," Arthur said quietly. "The girl will executed by hanging in three days." Merlin felt the floor drop out from under him. The room was spinning and he could feel a sort of hopelessness clawing its way up his throat. He barely heard the rest of the conversation.

"But Sire, is it not protocol to kill a sorcerer by fire?"

"No," the word was positively growled. "I will not subject a child to that torture, no matter what they have done or may do in the future. This meeting is adjourned." The King stood, and with him, the council. The Nobles left, leaving Merlin standing there, words ringing in his ears.

'Monster . . .'

'Executed by hanging in three days . . .'

'Kill by fire . . .'

And then he was running, running down the hallways, tears stinging his eyes. The aching of his wrists forgotten, the exhaustion of the night before but a shadow of a memory in the back of his mind.

Merlin barreled into the physician's room, noticing with some relief that Gaius wasn't there. He closed the door behind him, but didn't lock it. What was the point? And then a tear dripped down his cheek; like a dam breaking, Merlin simply couldn't hold it in any longer. He collapsed on his bed, arms wrapped around his chest. Arthur was going to kill her. He was going to kill Yara. Then it really sank in. He had failed. Arthur didn't believe that magic wasn't evil. There wasn't anything he could do to save her. Arthur wasn't allowing anyone to see her, and there were more guards than usual, due to the fact that she had been able to escape before. It was his fault, this whole mess. He should have protected her, should have talked to Arthur on the way back to Camelot, somehow, he should have found out what he planned on doing.

Merlin's hand fumbled for the knife, and he rested the cool blade against the skin of left wrist. The only thing that kept his hand still was the thought of Gaius and Gwen. Gaius was like a father to him, Gwen like a sister, and he knew that this time, this time if he started, he would not be able to stop. 'Executed by hanging in three days . . .' Cut.

'Have you ever met an innocent sorcerer?' Cut.

'If you let her go free, the innocents of Camelot will suffer . . .' Cut.

Eventually, Merlin's mind lost its ability to form coherent thoughts. They slipped from his mind as the blood slipped from the tips of his fingers to stain the dark wood. He'd be hitting the bottom soon, it wouldn't be long now.

Just as dark sparks were eating away at his vision, another thought came into his mind. 'Monster . . .' Teasingly, Merlin ran the tip of the blade against his skin, tracing the word against a pale backdrop. He decided it would show up better if the letters were in red.

A/N: Poor Merlin. I don't know why I do this to him . . .