A/N:
I know – I've been taking my time, but so you know, I am working on a big one for Merlin that I have been researching. I'm pretty sure you guys will love it. It will be called 'The spoils of Annwfn' without giving too much away; it is based on an obscure 6th Century poem, written in Middle Welsh that was found in the Book of Taliesin. Keep an eye out!
This next one-shot goes to ThisMortalCoil (I have realised, I will have to do a separate chapter for Camoc, as the prompt goes with the canon episode of Gwen being captured)
As you are well aware, Merlin belongs to the BBC
CHARACTERS: Arthur, Merlin, Morgana & the Knights
RATED: T
GENRE: Hurt/Comfort
WHAT IF...S05Ep6 The Dark Tower - Arthur has been taken instead of Gwen and Merlin saves Elyan with magic
THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN
The Dark Tower- Reprise
Drip…
Drip...drip…
Drip…
Arthur flinched, feeling the cold, black sludge splatter his cheeks from above. The young King took a deep shuddering breath and tried to calm the panicked thudding of his heart – but the silence was almost as bad as the disembodied screams that had him crying in the foetal position for most of the previous night.
Harsh sunlight streamed through the bars of his prison, causing him to squint painfully as he looked up at the ceiling.
His bloody sister…he was going to kill her if it was the last thing he did.
Uncurling his body, Arthur stretched his painfully stiff muscles and slowly got to his feet. He peered at the bizarre plants that were hanging from the roof of his prison and tried to quell the lump of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach.
This all seemed dreadfully familiar to him – it brought him back to a time when his father was alive, slowly driven insane by dark magic…It had been her!
The whole time, she had been playing the worried, heartsick ward…
His blood boiled as the memories returned to him with such painstaking clarity, that he thought he would cry with rage and grief. The young King settled, instead, for taking a deep, controlled breath and counting to ten.
'Arthur…'
The disembodied voice croaked.
His head whipped around, cerulean eyes searching for the source of the voice as his own name echoed around him.
'Arthur….Aaarthur…'
Turning rapidly on the spot, his eyes wide with renewed panic as myriad of different sounds overlapped each other, sending the young man to his knees.
Hot tears burst forth as he clasped his hands to his ears, pressing tightly to try and block the screeching choir.
'ARTHUR!'
'Shut up! SHUT UP!' He screamed – or at least he thought he had. He could not hear the words, but he felt them tearing at the back of his throat.
A cold, bony hand grasped his shoulder, and Arthur jumped, scrabbling away from the touch. 'Get away from me!' he shrieked desperately.
He opened his eyes and saw the cold, green eyes of his sister, staring down at him. She cocked her head to the side.
'I really thought it would take longer for you to break, brother,' she hissed, crouching before the cowering king. She gripped his chin firmly and peered into frightened blue orbs. 'Spineless…A King not worthy for the throne of Camelot,'
Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as his determination returned slowly.
Blinking, he met the woman's gaze fiercely; eliciting a small twitch below her left eye, a twitch he knew was a sign of great annoyance.
'You will never have the throne, Morgana. Camelot is loyal to me and to me alone. They would never follow a tyrant Queen!'
The witch brought her hand angrily across the King's face, and the slap reverberated around the dungeon like an echo.
'I was just about to offer you a meal – but I think I'd rather you starved,' the growled vehemently, letting go of his face. 'Oh, by the way – your friends, they're coming. But I won't make it easy for them to rescue you – in fact, I have a little surprise up my sleeve. Sleep well, my traitorous blood,'
And when she slammed the door, he was left quivering in fear on the floor.
*~*M*~*
Crouched by the ominous tower, a wide cobalt gaze took in its harsh lines with much apprehension. Unable to voice his fear, Merlin merely swallowed the lump in his throat as he listened to the muttered words of the Knights that surrounded him.
'There really should be some semblance of a plan, other than barging in with swords drawn magnificently,' Sir Elyan pointed out, his dark eyes resting pointedly on Sir Gwaine, who was currently craning his neck in an effort to see the very top of the tower. Ears pricking at the mention of his fabulously thought out rescue idea, Gwaine turned to his comrades, a winning smile adorning his features.
'I knew you would see it my way,' he said happily, twirling his sword thrice before shoving it into the hard soil and leaning upon it like a crutch.
'You'll blunt your blade, doing that,' Percival muttered offhandedly, as though something like that even mattered at this point.
Gwaine, however, never refusing the chance to dabble in some light hearted banter, sent Percival a mocking wink. 'My blade will always be sharper than your wit, mate,' he retorted lightly.
As he listened, Merlin felt something that resembled a smile, quirk at his lips as he watched for a sign, any sign that could be indicative of Morgana's presence. Of course, she was a smart woman, but thus far, nothing had attacked them and Merlin saw this as a bad sign.
'Would you lot just shut up? I'm surprised your bickering hasn't woken the dead!' Merlin hissed, now fully focused once more on the task at hand.
Usually, such insolence from a servant of Camelot would have granted the young Warlock a stint in the stocks, but these Knights took his admonishments in stride, and were grateful of his attempt to focus them.
Silence now dominated as Merlin struggled to think. Obviously Morgana was expecting them, but for some reason, had not prepared for an attack in any way that Merlin could detect.
With a sigh, he swept his nimble fingers through his hair and turned to the Knights.
'As much as it pains me to say, I think we should go with Gwaine's brilliant plan - it's the only one we have at this point and we can't just sit around in the dirt and draw up magnificent battle plans when there is only one door.'
Merlin emphasised his point with a wave of his hand toward the looming building.
Gwaine's eyes were bright as he pulled his sword from the dirt and approached the young Warlock.
'Your faith in me is astounding, little man,' he said with a mock sniff, clamping his hand upon Merlin's lean shoulder. As he walked toward the door, he spared a glance over his shoulder. 'You great idiots coming, or what? There is a damsel in distress and I, for one could not possibly lose myself in drink if the Princess wasn't safe in his bed,'
With another dramatic twirl of his sword, Gwaine was off, his long legs eating up the distance to the single door. A collective sigh was heard, and Merlin turned to see the remainder of the men rolling their eyes as they withdrew their blades.
The young Warlock loped after Gwaine, hoping desperately that the dark feeling that surrounded him was naught but his own mind playing tricks on him.
*~*M*~*
The figure that was Merlin, but wasn't – towered over him, a look of malice and hatred furrowing his usually gentle brow.
'You're pathetic, sire,' not-Merlin spat, crouching down to lean in his face. 'You allow your sister to get the better of you...maybe she is the one who should be ruling Camelot.'
Arthur whimpered and shuffled back, trying very hard not to look at the man who so closely resembled his friend. But this spectre wasn't Merlin. It couldn't be...not kind, gentle, sweet, thoughtful Merlin. This man was twisted, evil – just looking into those brilliantly cold cobalt eyes sent chills racing up his spine.
'Merlin...p-please!' Arthur said tremulously, backing into the wall behind him.
Long fingers wrapped around his throat and the thing that was most assuredly not his manservant, began to squeeze.
'Listen to yourself! You call yourself a King, when you so openly beg! Kings don't beg Arthur...'
Suddenly a darker, more feminine hand came to rest upon Merlin's waist and Guinevere appeared behind him, her chin resting upon his shoulder.
'Mmm...you are so delicious when you're angry, Merlin,' she purred, nipping his lobe. The youth growled in pleasure, but his grip around the King's throat lessened.
'Gwen...no,' Arthur murmured as he watched his best friend devour his wife with lustful lips. Gwen's dainty hand trailed from Merlin's waist to cup the front of his breeches. The King wanted to turn away, but he was transfixed as Merlin rutted into her touch.
'Please, stop...please!' he cried, as the dark haired spectre released him quickly, only to grasp his wife's breasts, squeezing and kneading roughly.
'STOP! STOP IT NOW!' Arthur bellowed, tears obscuring his vision as he clambered to his feet. He raced toward the couple cavorting before him, but the pair disappeared in a wisp of blue smoke to reveal...
Anger contorted his features as he gripped the throat of his traitorous servant and lifted him off his feet.
Cobalt blue widened in panic as his lungs screamed for oxygen. His vision flickered as he was slammed bodily against a wall, his legs kicking feebly.
'A-Arthur...p-p-lea-se, please...It wasn't r-real,' he gasped weakly. 'W-whatever you s-saw...It wasn't real,'
The King slammed the spectre's head against the stone, and watched with some satisfaction as the young man's heartbeat began to slow.
But the boy blinked, determined to go on. 'A-Arthur, you bleeding clotpole! It's me!
A flicker of recognition, but not enough for the King to loosen his death grip. Cobalt rolled into white and thick, dark lashes, wet with tears fluttered.
A laugh.
Morgana stepped out of the shadows, grasping a sword – a triumphant grin on her face.
'He would never have done that to you,' she said, her eyes flickering to the almost dead figure that Arthur had pinned to the wall. 'He would never do anything to cause you harm, and look...you've gone and killed him,'
Arthur's cerulean eyes widened as he turned back to the figure that he held to the wall. Now that he looked, he could see. The spectre seemed real and solid, but shone ethereally with brilliant blues and muted silver. The boy he held was alabaster and pale and oh gods! He could only just feel his pulse, thrumming weakly beneath his hand.
'Merlin!' he gasped, relinquishing his grasp and watching in horror as his friend slumped bonelessly to the floor.
'You've gone and killed your best friend...how does it feel?' Morgana taunted, her eyes flashing gold.
The sword left her hand and floated towards the King, jabbing the air dangerously, like a dog on a leash.
Arthur backed away – away from Merlin, the sword – Morgana.
'Why?' he asked, only now becoming aware of a constant and angry pounding upon the door.
'Because you are my blood, and you would no sooner have me killed for the gift I possess,' she growled, allowing the blade to slice his arm shallowly.
From his vantage point, Merlin could see that Morgana had the upper hand. The door was locked by her magic, the Knights on the wrong side of the door, left Merlin helpless.
He was still trying to draw air into his oxygen starved lungs as quietly as he could, and his head throbbed with agony from where it connected the cold stone.
Of course he could forgive Arthur, but would the King be able to forgive him?
As the blade invaded his space once more, several things happened at once, the first of which included the door blowing inwards off its hinges, revealing very annoyed Knights. The rushed into the room, swords drawn as they noticed Morgana.
A scream of fury parted he lips and with a few muttered words, the blade flew towards the closest of his Knights, and his brother in law, Elyan.
Just when he thought he was about to lose a close friend, a second extraordinary thing happened.
Merlin scrambled to his feet, and thrust his hand out. He didn't need to hear what was said, the telltale flicker of gold was enough.
The enchanted sword clattered to the floor, and in exhaustion, Merlin followed.
Merlin the Sorcerer.
Morgana screamed and disappeared in a flurry of light, leaving the King and his Knights staring, bewildered at Merlin's unconscious form.
Without a word, Arthur moved forward and crouched by Merlin.
Sorcerer.
The man's breath was shallow and laboured.
It doesn't matter...Sorcerer.
Arthur noted the blood on the stones , probably from the wound he had dealt the boy in a moment of confusion.
IT DOESN'T MATTER!
Except that it did. It did very much – because it was his friend, and his friend had just saved Elyan's life, not moments after Arthur nearly took his.
So it did matter – and as Arthur lifted the limp form of his friend from the stone, he decided he would deal with it later.
End
Whew, that was difficult! Dark Tower is not one of my favourite eps...It's a little too Gwencentric for my liking. Don't get me wrong, I like Gwen – but there is only so much one can take...
I hope that was suitable, and I hope not to leave it so long between posts next time!
The next prompt goes to Camoc - What if in the Dark tower, Merlin uses his magic to save Elyan's life, but
Gwen saw so she told Morgana later?
Reviews are love :)