This chapter goes through some of Merlin's thoughts during Arthur's rescue. I thought I should probably point that out so that no one is confused. Sorry for ruining your Thursday.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Merlin's breathing rate increased as he heard footsteps from outside his prison. His lungs expanded painfully as each inhalation brought new strain to his cracked ribs. The lacerations on his back stretched with the skin as his body tried to take in more air. Merlin felt some of his gashes rip open with the new strain introduced, blood seeping out of the cuts and soaking his torn shirt. The footsteps pounded on the heartless floor, mocking him. Merlin could recognize that heavy gait anywhere. He had been forced to listen to it for two days. Darian had returned.
Merlin tried to force his eyes open so he could continue to fight Darian, or at least glare at him. But he found that task impossible. He was so weak and every breath was a struggle. Even the slightest movements sent pain through Merlin's body. Everything felt like it was on fire, and everything felt broken. Merlin was beginning to think that even if he got out of here, he could never be repaired. The damage was done. Years of believing that he was the all-powerful Emrys now lay destroyed. He wasn't invincible, he was weak, a coward. And if this realization wasn't enough, Merlin could no longer hear the monster's feet outside his room. His ears strained to pick up even the slightest footstep in the chamber that lay just beyond the door. Merlin was sure that it was Darian who was there. Merlin had never heard any other footsteps other than Darian's. Merlin was in the man's own private dungeon. Somewhere where people wouldn't accidently stumble upon him. And the unofficial, evil knight always entered the room almost as soon as Merlin heard him. It was like clockwork, a pattern that couldn't be broken. But Darian didn't come in the room straightaway. Instead, Merlin heard him continually pace right outside the door, the echo on the merciless grey floors taunting Merlin. He was probably playing with the warlock. Please just end this. Merlin begged silently, he didn't have the strength to talk out loud. He barely had the strength to form complete thoughts. Darian's confident walk continued to reverberate around the room. This tortured Merlin with the thought that death was so close, but still unwilling to reach him.
It was then that Merlin wished he hadn't sent fake Lancelot away. In his final moments, Merlin would have liked to be with a friend. Someone who he trusted and respected, who trusted and respected him in return. Well, it was his imagination that created the people; perhaps he could just call upon it whenever he wanted. Merlin decided that he wanted Lancelot. Merlin tried to focus his thoughts on Lancelot, and him being here in the room with Merlin. Merlin tried to focus on his friend's voice, the way he looked, his mannerisms. He tried to picture Lancelot accurately in his head. Merlin grew proud when he finally had a clear image of the knight. Surely that should be enough to see Lancelot in the room with him. That would be enough to allow Merlin to believe he wasn't alone. Merlin smiled as he pictured Lancelot laughing and joking with him, sharing his tales of adventure. Merlin would tell Lancelot about his recent collision with an angry sorcerer. The two would laugh at the stories and make little jokes about the stupidity of the bad guys. He wanted his final moments to be happy ones, not these sad, depressing thoughts that constantly plagued his mind. Merlin gathered up the strength to look at Lancelot. Now that he knew he wasn't alone, the ability to move was much easier. He opened his eyes and stared at where his friend was. Except, he wasn't there. Merlin's smile fell as he looked wildly around the room for his fake friend.
"Lance?" Merlin called out weakly, his vigor leaving him quickly. There was no reply. Merlin collapsed back onto the ground, his strength drained by the previous bought of activity. He began to feel the despair and hopelessness seep into his thoughts once more. He felt empty inside, a shell of a man who had lost everything. Even his imagination was no longer trying to convince him to live. Perhaps Darian's spell had caused everyone to abandon him, even his own thoughts. No, he wouldn't allow Darian to win. So Lancelot hadn't appeared before Merlin like some prophetic vision. Merlin shouldn't give up yet. There were still several more people he could imagine in the room with him. Merlin gathered his strength back up and this time tried to picture Gwaine in the room. He had spent more time with fake Gwaine. It was probably easier for his mind to come up with Gwaine because of this. Once again, Merlin found himself using all of his energy to picture his friend. Merlin bolted up, well more like sat up weakly, when he heard a familiar laugh. He ignored the chains digging into his wrists as he put pressure on them. His arms began to shake as more weight was placed on them. He was weak, malnourished, and dehydrated, but that wouldn't matter if Gwaine were with him.
"Gwaine?" he asked hopefully, his eyes scanning the room. No one was there. Merlin lost all hope that he was ever going to see his friends again. His strength gave out completely. His arm was no longer able to hold him up. He collapsed back onto the ground, his head smacking the stone tiles, causing his vision to blur. More scabs burst open, leaving the blood to pool around Merlin like a fallen soldier on the battlefield. Merlin was completely alone. No one cared for him anymore. No one would ever come looking for him. Merlin's eyes slid shut, waiting for the end. Darian wouldn't be long now.
The footsteps stopped. Merlin grew frustrated at the man's incessant need to toy with him. Merlin was more than ready for this man to finish him off. He was done with this constant circle of having hope only to crush it a moment later. He was done with the pain and suffering, the loneliness and despair. Merlin was exhausted physically and mentally. This game that Darian played was breaking Merlin more than any form of torture ever could. This was probably what Darian wanted. He wanted Merlin to try and find a flicker of hope, just to realize there was none. He wanted Merlin to spiral downward, into a pit for which there was no escape. Darian was drawing out Merlin's final moments because he wanted to hear Merlin beg, to beg for death. Darian was the kind of man that needed the power and reassurance. He needed to know that he had beaten Merlin. After all, Darian had beaten every man and woman he had had before the warlock, he wouldn't want to change that now. Darian would continue to play with Merlin until the warlock shattered. And when Merlin broke and begged to be killed, then and only then would Darian allow his soul peace.
This got Merlin angry. Merlin decided that he may want death to come, but he wasn't going to give Darian the satisfaction of hearing him beg. It was undignified and he still had to make Arthur, Gaius, and his mother proud. Darian would not beat this one. He may kill Merlin and leave him in an unmarked grave, but Merlin would always be the one that hadn't begged. Merlin would be the lamb that had beaten the wolf in his own way. Darian's temper was always threatening to get away from him. There were several times when he almost lost complete control and killed Merlin. All Merlin would have to do was make Darian angry. One good blow to Merlin's head ought to be enough to send him to Avalon.
Merlin had this brief moment of bravery before the feeling fled him so quickly, it was as if Merlin had never experienced the courage. Within a second Merlin went to a brave soldier to a scared child. He was now a sobbing, whimpering, pathetic mess. Merlin tried to regain his composure, but it appeared that Darian had broken him. He would not be the lamb that was stronger than the wolf. Darian had won. Merlin felt tears begin to run down his cheeks as constant reminders that no one loved him anymore continually plagued his mind. It may have been an enchantment, but it still hurt Merlin to know he would never be loved again. He curled into a smaller ball as the footsteps approached the door. This was it. These were his final moments. Darian was preparing to complete his kill, to complete the circle once again. When he was through using Merlin for his own gains, Darian would move onto another person. Merlin felt ashamed that he wouldn't be able to save these future victims from this torture. If only he were stronger, no one else would have to go through this.
Merlin was comforted somewhat by the thought of seeing Freya, Balinor, and Will again. They would at least know what Merlin did, what he endured. Hopefully they would comfort Merlin and understand that he did try to be strong. But in the end, he wasn't. There was a reason why the dwarf didn't assign Merlin courage or strength. It was clear he wasn't either of those things. Merlin wondered what his friends would do in his place. They would probably keep fighting. They wouldn't lie on the floor and beg for the end. But then again, there was a reason they were knights and Merlin was just a servant. As much as Lancelot praised Merlin for being brave, he was anything but. Arthur made the right choice, keeping Merlin in the shadows. Merlin was too much of a coward to be a knight. It was painful to think that it took so much pain for Merlin to realize this.
Merlin shook his head and tried to think happier thoughts, but none would come. He tensed as the door was pulled open. Would Darian caress him again? Would the death be long and drawn out, or quick and painless? It was time to see. Merlin braced himself for the inevitable greeting that he faced. However, instead of hearing Darian's sugary voice, a different sound was heard. It was almost like a choked sob. That was strange. Why would Darian cry for Merlin? Perhaps it was one of his tactics. Perhaps he wanted Merlin to believe that someone had found him and they were going to save him. Merlin smiled at his cleverness. He wasn't going to be fooled by Darian. It took more than a pathetic sound to make Merlin believe. Darian shouldn't have crushed his hopes so well, and then his plan might have worked. Merlin was distantly aware that someone was speaking to him. He didn't bother to make out the voice. It was Darian, calling him a lamb and telling him that he looked absolutely beautiful. Merlin knew Darian's speech by heart. He tried to block out the voice; it really was annoying to listen to. But the stupid voice was persistent and continued to ask Merlin questions and talk to him.
"Please, Merlin, look at me," someone begged. That was also strange. It sounded almost like they cared. Nobody should care about Merlin if Darian's charm was working. And Merlin couldn't really think of anyone who would sound so desperate to hear his voice. He felt a warm hand press against his cheek, and then his neck. They were checking for a pulse. But why? Merlin was clearly alive, he just didn't feel like talking with anyone at the moment. He was entitled to give the silent treatment. If Arthur could be a prat, then why not Merlin? He had endured hell and dammit, Merlin was going to ignore this person and their annoying fingers! Besides, Darian should just slit Merlin's throat and start drinking his blood like the greedy, good-for-nothing bastard he was.
But something didn't add up with Darian's new tactic. The fingers that were pressed to Merlin's neck were shaking. It was as if the person was terrified of what they might not feel. The fingers were also gentle, and kind. It was clear that the person was trying not to harm Merlin, that they were afraid so much as a poke would wound the warlock. The more Merlin thought about it, the less he was convinced it was Darian who was here with him. Something was sensitively laid over Merlin's back. Oh that felt really nice. Merlin hadn't been properly warm since Darian arrived at Camelot. And this thing wasn't covered in his blood, so it wasn't sticky. It was a truly fantastic feeling and suddenly, Merlin didn't care who was in the room with him. He just hoped that the warm thing wouldn't be taken from him. He was now sure that it wasn't Darian that was here with him. Darian never treated Merlin with this much care. It couldn't be Darian that was now taking care of Merlin. But then, who could it be? Merlin wanted to know who was fighting Darian's spell and found him.
A hand rested on his dislocated shoulder, much less shaky than the fingers. It appeared that now the person knew Merlin wasn't dead, he was more calm and collected. Merlin decided the hand should probably be warned of the injury, before it pulled on the shoulder and hurt him. Merlin was about to open his mouth when the hand pressed down harder. It wasn't a large motion, but enough weight was put on Merlin's shoulder to pull the bone farther from its home. Pain exploded from the damaged joint as Merlin attempted not to cry out. It was force of habit by this point. Merlin always told himself to never show how much pain he was in. People needed him and he couldn't afford to look weak, or be taken away from something important. Don't let his friends or his enemies know his pain. That was how everyone stayed safe. Right now, with the blood loss and pain, it wasn't really working. Merlin was well aware that he was probably gasping with pain and that he was whimpering like a newborn kitten.
Merlin decided that he needed to see who was here. He wanted to know. He also wanted to yell at whoever was thoughtless enough to pull on a dislocated shoulder. Merlin forced himself to turn over onto his side. With great difficulty, he managed to peal his eyes open. His ribs screamed with protest as more pressure was put on them. He couldn't find enough strength to roll completely on his back. And he still hadn't seen the face of the man who was here with him, so rolling back onto his stomach wasn't an option. So here Merlin lay, on his side. The pain was blinding but he could ignore it for a few seconds to see who was here with him. Merlin bit the inside of his cheek and stared into the face of his visitor. He blinked a few times before the man came into focus.
"Arthur?" he asked uncertainly. This had to be another fake Arthur. The real one was so far gone in Darian's charm he wouldn't have come looking for Merlin. And he certainly would have never given Merlin something to keep him warm. Arthur would have just called him a girl and given him a list of chores. Merlin sighed. He kind of wanted to see Lancelot before he died, but fake Arthur would do fine. It wasn't that he didn't care for Arthur a great deal, it's just that Arthur never was affectionate. It would have been easier to pretend that Lancelot was actually here with him, holding him against his chest and telling Merlin that it was going to be alright. Merlin would have been able to believe that Lancelot was really there with him. Whatever gestures Arthur did would just prove to Merlin that he was a figment of Merlin's imagination.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried out in relief as he gently brushed some hair out of Merlin's eyes. This definitely wasn't real Arthur. Real Arthur would have never shown such a blatant display of affection, even though they were alone. He would have told Merlin to get up and polish his boots. He would have yelled at Merlin for being lazy and trying to get a day off. Merlin looked closer at his current companion. It appeared that tears were welling up in fake Arthur's eyes. Again, something Arthur would never do. Merlin tried to make a joke about Arthur being a girl, but that would have been too close to reality. Their friendly banter was something reserved only for the real Arthur.
Merlin found that he couldn't pretend that it was actually Arthur here with him. He couldn't find it within himself to imagine that Arthur would actually do these things. That he would comfort Merlin in this state. It was then Merlin remembered that fake Arthur was only here to keep him fighting for his life. Merlin didn't want that anymore. He just wanted to be comforted in his final moments. Why couldn't his mind understand that? Perhaps he should call back Leon. It was nice when the knight was just stroking Merlin's hair. He wasn't talking about anything; he wasn't trying to convince Merlin that he was important. He was just there for him. That's what Merlin needed, not some braggart soldier who wouldn't be caught dead petting Merlin's head.
"Please, just let me go," Merlin whimpered as he rolled back onto his stomach. His ribs were hurting too much to look fake Arthur in the eyes. This was much more comfortable. And Merlin didn't have to see the anger that would flash in fake Arthur's eyes as he tried to convince Merlin to stay alive. Yes, this was a much better position to die in. Apparently, Arthur didn't think so.
"No, Merlin. I'm not losing you!" fake Arthur exclaimed angrily as Merlin felt himself grow weaker. Why would Arthur care? He never did. Merlin just wanted to sleep. Even fake Arthur was an insensitive clotpole when it came to Merlin's desires. Still, Merlin felt the need to say sorry. He always did.
"I tried, Arthur. But I can't do this anymore. I'm so sorry," Merlin apologized. He really did try to resist. He fought Darian in every way that he could. He even managed to injure the man. But Arthur didn't seem to grasp the concept that Darian was extremely skilled at his hobby. Merlin would have never made it another day. He won't make it another day. Once again, Arthur remained unobstructed by Merlin's pain. The prat always came first. He always got what he wanted.
"You have to, Merlin. You have to keep fighting," fake Arthur commanded. But it wasn't as strong as his normal leader voice. Instead, he sounded broken. He sounded just as broken as Merlin felt. Merlin supposed that was because of the tie with their spirits. He was Merlin's mind after all. The more broken he got, the more broken his fake friends got. Great, now even his mind was giving up.
"I just want the pain to end," Merlin responded quietly. He didn't care how or why, he just knew that this wasn't going to go on for much longer. Perhaps if he ran headfirst into the wall, he could snap his neck. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even open his eyes without concentrating on the task for several minutes. There was no way he could commit suicide. Merlin thought it would be easier to die with one of his friends here, that didn't appear to be the case. Instead of comforting him, fake Arthur just made Merlin feel worse about his situation. Merlin knew that he had failed. He didn't need constant reminders.
Merlin sighed with relief as fake Arthur walked away. Perhaps now he could get some much-needed rest. He still felt a jab of fear as he realized that once again he was alone. Merlin mentally kicked himself. Why did he keep sending away his visions? He wanted someone to be there with him, but he continually forced them to leave when they didn't provide the right kind of comfort. He needed to stop being picky and just let his fake friends stay. He should just ignore the parts about fighting and revel in the fact that he wasn't by himself. Merlin hated being alone and he really didn't want to die alone. Even Darian would be better company than no company. Merlin began to think about Arthur and opened his eyes to look around the room. There was no Arthur there. Merlin had sent the vision away and he wasn't entirely sure that his friend would come back. Merlin's eyes closed, blocking out the sight of the grey room he was imprisoned in. He wanted Arthur to come back.
Merlin heard footsteps again and whimpered. Darian had to be here this time, and not Arthur. Merlin felt a faint gleam of hope that he would get lucky and another of his friends would come by. Percival and Elyan hadn't seen him yet. Merlin wondered what they would be like. Percival never said very much so perhaps he would just sit there and comfort Merlin silently. Merlin knew that they usually left whenever Darian came back, maybe this time whoever was with him would stay through the session. Maybe this time someone other than the personification of evil would be there with him. The door clicked shut, causing Merlin to flinch. It appeared another torture session was in order for the evening. Merlin forced his eyes to be open, he was going to glare at Darian throughout this entire session, no matter how much pain he was in. He was glad that this courage had once again found him. Merlin turned to stare at his abuser, before his bravery fled him, only to find that it was Arthur who was once again in the room. Merlin smiled and decided that fake Arthur wasn't going anywhere. He was just as stubborn in Merlin's imagination. At least one trait was consistent with reality.
"Thanks for visiting me again, before I die," Merlin whispered. He really was thankful. Perhaps this Arthur would finally give Merlin the hug he always wanted. It was within the realm of possibilities, considering fake Arthur wasn't anything like real Arthur. He wondered how it would feel. Maybe it would make his pain disappear for a time. Or maybe it would give him the strength to keep fighting Darian. Yes, Merlin did want that hug.
"Don't say that, Merlin," Arthur commanded softly. He leaned over Merlin and began fiddling with the cuffs. Of course Arthur would try to guilt Merlin into staying alive. It was his mind's job. It would try everything to keep the vessel it inhabited from dying. Merlin felt the cuffs release and his magic flood back into his veins. This was probably the best feeling in the world. To bad it wasn't real. Merlin remembered how he always felt better when his friends were "here". But still, he felt freer, pretending the cuffs were off. He really should have done this sooner. Why hadn't he?
"I need you to sit up Merlin. I need to see if your ribs are damaged," Arthur stated. That would probably hurt a lot and Merlin wasn't in the mood for more pain. He was going to let Arthur know this, but before Merlin could protest, he was lifted into the sitting position and fake Arthur's hands were running gently over his torso. Merlin wasn't completely comatose. He could have easily told Arthur whether or not his ribs were damaged. He kept a mental tally of all the injuries he had received just in case rescue did come. Merlin decided he didn't want to think about the fact that he was never getting out of here alive. Instead, he decided to focus on his accomplishments. Arthur should know that Merlin followed his orders, for once.
"Darian is really upset with me," Merlin stated proudly. "I probably shouldn't have bit him, or broke his leg, or spit in his hair," Merlin continued. Arthur let out a laugh, a proud laugh. This made Merlin blush with the thought that his master was actually going to compliment him.
"Wonder's never cease." Merlin smiled and thought over his last few days of captivity. It sounded as though fake Arthur was glad Merlin hadn't just given up. Truthfully, Merlin was glad he hadn't given up either. He may have not been Darian's feistiest captive, but he sure gave him one hell of a time. Merlin felt proud knowing that he wasn't completely weak. He decided that after Arthur's compliment, it was time. Merlin was now ready to cross over into Avalon. It was time to sever his ties with the world of the living.
"You can go now, fake Arthur. I'm glad I got to see you one last time," Merlin smiled as he leaned back against the wall. He felt his eyes begin to droop close. Fake Arthur gave out a sort of strangled cry. Merlin really didn't want his friend to cry over his death. He was ready for it. There was no reason to get upset. Suddenly, Merlin felt himself being pulled away from the wall. He felt a warm patch of skin press against his forehead. He pealed his eyes open and found Arthur's were staring straight back at him. The look in fake Arthur's eyes was determined, but sad. Merlin had a feeling that he was going to get a speech. He hoped it wouldn't affect his decision to choose death.
"You are not going to die Merlin. You want to know why? Because I haven't given you permission." Merlin snorted. As if Arthur's permission ever meant anything to him. Arthur kept his speech going, not paying attention to Merlin's emotions.
"If you want to make me proud, you are going to keep fighting and you are going to survive," Arthur said strongly as he rubbed the back of Merlin's neck with his thumb. It was a very comforting gesture, but Merlin wasn't about to let fake Arthur command him. He spent nearly four years of his life showing Arthur that he didn't take orders. That record wasn't going to be broken now.
"But I'm in so much pain," Merlin whispered, his eyes dropping down to his damaged wrist. He had done everything he could for Arthur. Now he needed to vacate this realm and travel to the next. He still felt ashamed. Fake Arthur was practically begging Merlin to stay alive. Perhaps he should.
"I know, kid. But do this for me," Arthur said. It was difficult to say no to Arthur, especially when he sounded like an older brother. Merlin smiled and wondered what real Arthur would say to Merlin's new thoughts on their relationship. Arthur couldn't deny that there was a strong bond between the two, but he could deny having any sort of love for Merlin. Merlin decided that Arthur might not be here with him, he may not remember him, but Darian would. Merlin had heard enough of Darian's stories to know that he didn't forget a captive. Merlin wanted to be one of the ones that Darian didn't talk about, because he didn't want his victims to know that someone fought back. He didn't want them to know that someone could fight back, that he could be injured. There was no way this was going to happen if Merlin just crawled to the corner and died like an animal. Merlin didn't really think that the list of injuries he had compiled on Darian was enough to warrant a special place in Darian's memory. Maybe he could keep fighting for a little longer. Maybe Darian needed one last injury, a sort of send off for Merlin. Merlin decided that yes, he would follow Arthur's orders, just this once. He wasn't going to die yet and he wasn't going to stop fighting. But if Merlin were to do this one last act of stupidity and bravery, he needed his strength.
"Can I go to sleep?" Merlin asked softly. He decided that fake Arthur's chest looked like a very nice pillow and began to sink into it. He should feed real Arthur more sweets so that his chest was as squishy as fake Arthur's.
"Only if you promise to wake back up," Arthur replied with a soft smile. Merlin smiled back and closed his eyes, leaning heavily into Arthur. Merlin half expected Arthur to shove him off and call him a girl. But Merlin was pleasantly surprised. Arthur's arms wrapped around Merlin and steadied him as he continued to sink into Arthur's embrace. It was the comforting position Merlin needed. He was safe with Arthur. He could let his guard down for a little bit. Arthur would protect him.
"Promise," Merlin said softly. He felt fake Arthur squeeze him gently and pull him deeper into the land of dreams. He wasn't going to die yet. Arthur still needed him. And Darian needed one last kick to the gut.
Just as Merlin was beginning to feel all warm and safe, he heard the door burst open. Arthur was still here, hugging him. And none of his friends, fake or not, would have thrown the door open in such anger. That meant Darian was back. Merlin began to shake with fear. Arthur would leave him soon, he would leave him on this cold floor and Merlin would never feel his embrace again. Merlin wasn't ready for Arthur to go. He may have been ready for death before, but after that conversation his nerve had dropped a tenfold. Sure enough Merlin felt himself lowered onto the floor. Arthur was no longer with him. Merlin tried to lift an arm up to grab onto Arthur's fading being, but his arms were too heavy and he was too weak. He wanted to cry and beg for Arthur to come back and hold him in his last moments, but his voice wasn't working. Merlin was alone once again. He heard himself whimper and tried to get his emotions under control. It wasn't working. All Merlin could focus on was how Arthur's arms felt around his shoulders, steadying him and protecting him.
Darian would be here any second and Merlin would die. Merlin's thoughts became a mess of terror. He tried to open his eyes and call out for Arthur to come back. But he found that he couldn't. Slowly Merlin became lost in his thoughts, falling deeper into the pit he and Darian had dug. Arthur's voice came floating through the room, cutting through Merlin's panic. The effect was immediate. Merlin instantly felt calmer and less afraid. Merlin wasn't exactly sure what Arthur had said, but he hadn't left him quite yet. Merlin calmed down and prepared for Darian's entrance. Arthur was still here with him. He could continue to fight Darian so long as Arthur didn't leave him. So what if fake Arthur wasn't cradling Merlin in his arms, his voice was all Merlin needed.
"Hello my lamb, are you going to behave yourself today?" Darian asked sweetly as he stepped into the room. Merlin screwed up his remaining courage and began thinking of all the ways he could have the last laugh. Perhaps he could bite Darian again. Or maybe he would just return to spitting on him. Merlin could, of course, do both. That would probably be Merlin's best bet for complete humiliation of "Sir" Darian. Merlin braced himself. The suspense was causing his heart rate to skyrocket. Darian was preparing for his final evening with his "little lamb". Merlin could practically feel the man's excitement rise to new levels. Both prepared themselves for the pain they were about to inflict on the other.
Before either man had a chance to act, there was a knock at the door. Merlin heard Darian curse and swing the door shut. Merlin relaxed a tad. He was safe for now. But Arthur still hadn't come back. Why hadn't he come back? Merlin foolishly hoped that Arthur would return as soon as Darian had left. Maybe Merlin needed to look at him in order to feel his presence. Merlin tried to open his eyes and search for fake Arthur, or fake anyone for that matter, before realizing he was just too tired. There was no way he could have fought Darian. Merlin was distantly aware that someone was calling out to him in a soothing voice, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. In a few more seconds, Merlin had become completely unconscious, oblivious to the fact that his friend was actually rescuing him.
oOoOoOo
Merlin began to wake up very slowly. He wasn't entirely sure where he was. He was definitely in a different position than before, and he appeared to be bouncing. Was he being carried? That would explain the awkward pressure being placed on his back and knees. He also felt freer than before, like he wasn't in his prison anymore. But that couldn't be right. Darian wouldn't be carrying Merlin through the halls if he weren't dead. Merlin wasn't even sure if it was Darian who was carrying him. Perhaps it was a guard Darian charmed into doing his bidding. This couldn't be real. Merlin gasped with pain as he was moved forward, bouncing briefly in the person's arms. This was the weirdest hallucination he had so far. Merlin decided that he was going to go back to sleep until his brain stopped wigging out. He wanted his hallucinations to be comforting, and to be placed in some form of reality. This was weird and painful.
Merlin closed his eyes and prepared to go back to sleep, trying to ignore the continual bouncing that he appeared to be doing. He heard two distinct voices. It took a minute for him to recognize those voices, but when he did, he began to panic. Uther and Darian were together! Darian was going to torture him and Uther was going to burn him on the pyre! Merlin's pain addled brain told him that this was a perfectly logical conclusion to jump to. After all, why else would Merlin be near these two men at the same time? Had Uther always been in on Darian's evil schemes? Merlin began to struggle weakly against the hold of the person who was carrying him. It must have been Darian; Uther would never carry a person he was going to kill. He was also the king and to do something so undignified would be blasphemy. Merlin's breathing became more rapid as his imagination ran wild with thoughts of having Uther and Darian take turns torturing him. His mind quickly flashed to images of the two men laughing while they chained Merlin to the ceiling and burned his skin.
"Shh, Merlin. It's alright, I've got you. You're safe," a familiar voice chanted as Merlin was set down and leaned against something warm and soft. It sounded like Arthur. Perhaps fake Arthur had returned and was now comforting Merlin in his final moments. Merlin felt something press against his forehead. Were they…lips? That was weird for him to think that fake Arthur would kiss his forehead. He was also aware that someone was stroking his hair. Again, weird to think that Arthur would do such a thing. Well at least he stopped bouncing. This was a much more comfortable. It was actually kind of relaxing, to have his hair stroked meditatively and to be leaned up against something with so much padding. Merlin was also sure that there was a pair of arms wrapped around him. Merlin decided he could stay in this position for awhile. He wondered if real Arthur would have ever done such a thing. He wouldn't mind it if real Arthur did hold him like this. Merlin felt safe and that's all that mattered to him at the moment.
Merlin felt himself shift and his injured shoulder was pulled. He let out a gasp of pain and began to whimper again. He really couldn't help it. He was trying not to be so weak, but it was so bloody hard. He shouldn't have promised fake Arthur that he was going to wake back up. He should have just let himself go. But fake Arthur was still here with him. He was still trying to comfort and calm Merlin. Merlin leaned into the gentle touches and became more content with the world. Arthur still cared about him, still protected him. Merlin should try and repay the favor by staying alive. Before long, Arthur's repetitive stroking had lulled Merlin back into a deep sleep.
oOoOoOo
Merlin found it incredibly difficult to breath as something thick and leathery was put into his mouth. Was Darian trying to gag him? Merlin attempted to discard the piece of leather but found that he didn't have enough strength for the task. Before Merlin could open his eyes he heard a crack and then felt searing pain spread through his ankle. Merlin screamed in agony and arched off the floor he was on. Darian had just reset his ankle. That was probably the worst pain Merlin had felt since Darian had arrived. Well, maybe not when the chair was crashed over his head. But that pain had long disappeared into dull throbbing sensations and the occasional burst of agony whenever Merlin moved. Merlin felt himself being pulled upright. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him and held him close, rocking him back and forth. Merlin couldn't stop himself from sobbing and clinging to this strong person. He didn't care if this was all part of Darian's plan to break him. He just wanted this person to never let go of him. Merlin eventually became exhausted and calmed back down. The pain in his ankle had gone down considerably. Before Merlin could protest he was laid back down. No, he didn't want this. He wanted the person to continue to hold him.
Merlin felt a hand grasp his injured wrist and shoulder and began to rotate it. Now it appeared Darian was trying to set the shoulder. Once again Merlin felt himself arch off the bedroll and scream against his will. He decided that he didn't want his bones to be reset. He was used to the way they were and now this cruel man was causing Merlin unnecessary amount of pain. He wasn't pulled into an embrace this time. The man just moved right onto trying to set Merlin's wrist. Merlin felt his wrist snap back into place. He just wanted the pain to end. Merlin was aware that he was sobbing and writhing, but he didn't care. He felt himself get pulled back into the chest of the person and he immediately calmed down. It was nice knowing that someone in Camelot was capable of still being gentle and kind. Merlin leaned into the touch and silently begged the person to never leave him. His wish was not granted.
The person put Merlin back on the ground, much to Merlin's displeasure, and left the room. Merlin attempted to call him back, but found that he couldn't. At least his injured bones had all been reset. Hopefully now they would stop bothering him as much. Merlin tried to focus on how much better he was feeling. It was as if he wasn't in Darian's chambers at all. It helped, somewhat, the feeling of freedom. Even if it wasn't true, Merlin still felt more at ease with the world.
Merlin heard the footsteps return soon after. The man said something, though Merlin's couldn't hear it over the blood that was pounding in his head. Wait, Merlin thought he heard the man say he had water. Merlin was tilted up into a sitting position and leaned back against the man's chest. Merlin didn't want to drink the water. He was thirsty but if Darian were behind this, the water would be poisoned. Merlin decided it would be best if he didn't test the poisoned water theory. Darian would not outsmart him. Merlin was determined to make this a fact.
After a short struggle, Merlin heard Arthur's voice. Arthur was telling him to drink the water. If Arthur was demanding Merlin drink it, then it must be okay. Merlin could trust Arthur. Arthur wouldn't lie to him or try to poison him. Reluctantly, Merlin opened his mouth and swallowed the water. The effect was immediate. His parched throat begged for more and the dryness that had overcome Merlin was slowly dissipating. He tried to reach up and drink more. The man was only allowing a trickle to be introduced into Merlin's mouth. Merlin was so parched though, he needed more. The rational part of his brain told him that too much would make him sick, but Merlin didn't care. This was something that he had been denied for far too long. The trickle of water stopped and Merlin sighed with content. He was feeling a lot better. He could probably drink another goblet of water, but for now he was doing well. Perhaps he would have the strength to fight Darian after all.
oOoOoOo
"Merlin, are you awake?" a familiar voice whispered. Merlin groaned and turned over. He was really sleepy and he didn't want to be awakened again until he had slept for at least 400 years.
"Merlin, I need to talk to you," the voice pressed. Merlin groaned and turned to stared back at his visitor. It didn't sound like Darian or Arthur. He should probably see who was here. Merlin rolled over and saw Percival kneeling beside him.
"Percival?" he asked, sitting up and looking the larger knight in the eye.
"Yeah. It's me, well fake me anyways," fake Percival chuckled as he leaned back against the wall.
"Are you going to tell me not to give up?" Merlin sighed. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his imagination trying to help, but it did get old after awhile.
"Sort of. I'm just going to tell you that you are closer to freedom Merlin. Just keep going a little longer. What would Arthur do if he were to discover you dead?" Percival said, helping Merlin sit up and lean against the wall.
"I guess you're right," Merlin sighed. He leaned against Percival's shoulders before spotting something in the knight's hand.
"What's that?" he asked. Merlin was curious. No one had ever brought anything with them before.
"It's a book. I know you like to read so I figured I should bring one to help dissipate some of the boredom," Percival responded with a small smile. Merlin grinned and watched as Percival flipped the book open.
"Shall we?" the knight asked, looking down at Merlin. Merlin closed his eyes and let fake Percival read from the fake book. Merlin wasn't entirely sure what it was about, but he didn't care. Percival was keeping him company and that's all Merlin needed.
Slowly Percival's voice began to fade away. Merlin jerked up and looked around. Percival had left him. Merlin knew what was coming. Darian was coming back. Merlin lay back down and curled into a ball. His pain-addled mind started jumping to the worst conclusions. It started running wild with thoughts of agony and suffering. Before Merlin could control his emotions, he became a mess of fear and panic. His breathing rate increased and he found himself curling in on himself. He hated himself for whimpering like an injured kitten. If Darian saw him like this, then the man would know he won. But even with this thought Merlin still couldn't stop the terror that continued to consume him.
A hand began to run itself through Merlin's hair. Merlin hated when Darian tried to be sweet and gentle. Merlin never knew what Darian he was going to get. But there was a voice that was also floating through the air. Was that…Arthur? Merlin slowly began to calm down as fake Arthur continued to talk about the most random things. He reminded Merlin of the time Gwaine and Lancelot managed to pour wine all over Leon, and how the senior knight dumped frogs in their beds for revenge. He spoke about hunting trips and patrols that actually went right. He reminded Merlin of the fun times he had had in Camelot. Merlin felt more at ease and uncurled completely. Arthur wouldn't let anything bad happen to him. Even if he was fake, Arthur was still there for Merlin.
The hand was removed and Merlin felt himself tilted into a sitting position again. Merlin's ribs still protested, but his wrist, shoulder, and ankle were feeling worlds better. If this was death, then it wasn't so bad. Merlin felt his mouth be pulled open and before Merlin could protest, a trickle of broth found its way onto his tongue. He heard Arthur command Merlin to drink it. Merlin decided that Arthur had told him to drink, so the broth must have been okay. He greedily swallowed the liquid and opened his mouth for more. His stomach began growling and Merlin was made aware of just how hungry he was.
After a short period of time, the broth was replaced with tea. Once again, Arthur was there, encouraging Merlin to keep drinking and telling him that he was safe. Merlin began to feel very full and decided he had had enough. He let his captor know by closing his mouth and refusing to take anymore. The man didn't try to force anything else in Merlin's mouth. Instead he wrapped his arms around Merlin and held him to his chest. Merlin smiled softly and sank into the embrace. He would sleep now. He could afford to.
So I've been experimenting with a more descriptive style of writing. I hope this isn't making the paragraphs or chapters too long or drawn out. I'll post again this Sunday and hopefully the story can actually move forward. Not that I don't love going through Merlin's tortured thoughts, but we need Darian to kick the bucket soon.