Chapter Sixteen
"Let me out, let me out, let me out!"
Gwaine threw himself against the door of the cell. He snarled and spit at the guards, straining through the bars to reach them, to punch and scratch and choke the life out of their miserable carcasses.
"You filthy traitorous blaggards, let me out!"
"Gwaine, stop." A strong hand caught his arm; he wrenched out of their grip and spun with a growl.
"Easy." Percival held up placating hands. "Take it easy. You're hurting yourself."
"I have to get out of here!"
"It's no good, those bars are solid iron," Elyan said. "Not even out combined strength could hope to break them."
"I am not giving up! Merlin – our friend Merlin – is out there tied to a stake and that evil lying treacherous bastard Agravaine is going to have him burned alive!"
"If there was anything we could do-" Leon tried.
"THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! Do you have any idea what Merlin has done for us? We each owe him our lives a hundred times over! He has sacrificed everything, suffered unspeakable horrors and all for us, for Arthur, for this ungrateful kingdom. We don't deserve him, we never have. He is everything that is good in this world and he is about to be brutally murdered! What kind of friends would we be to let that happen?"
"None of us want this any more than you do," Guinevere said, trying but failing to keep her voice calm and steady. Barely suppressed tears brimmed in her eyes. "We all love Merlin. I can't bear the thought of losing him like this but Agravaine has been two steps ahead of us from the beginning. He knew we would try to protect Merlin and he made certain that we couldn't."
"He hasn't won. Merlin is still alive and while there is still breath in my lungs I intend to fight to keep him that way!"
"But what can we do?"
Gwaine twisted in a tight circle and slammed his fists against the bars. "I don't know!"
There was a sudden clatter at the end of the corridor; the guards looked up in surprise.
"You should check that out," Gwaine said.
The guards exchanged glances and one of them nodded; the other drew his sword and ventured cautiously down the hall.
The second clatter came from around the corner. The guard vanished from view. Seconds later there was a yelp and a muffled thud.
"Sounds like you're under attack, mate."
The second guard drew his weapon but hesitated to move, glancing between the prisoners and the unknown threat.
"Not much we can do from in here or we would have done it already," Gwaine pointed out.
Warily, the guard went in pursuit of his comrade. He turned the corner out of sight.
"Hey, what-?"
This time there was a loud clang swiftly followed by a thump and the jangle of keys.
Gwaine wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting but it certainly wasn't the three young boys who rounded the corner.
"Who are you?"
The tallest of the three, who couldn't have been older than eleven, spoke up. "I'm Tybalt, this is my brother Fabian and this is my friend Walter. Where's King Arthur?"
Good question. "He's not here."
Their faces fell. "But Gran said we had to find him or they're gonna kill Merlin!" Fabian cried. "I don't want him to die. He's my friend!"
"We don't know where Arthur is, but we're Merlin's friends too."
Fabian sniffed. "Really?"
"He's the best friend I've ever had," Gwaine said.
"So you'll help him?" Tybalt asked.
"Get us out of here and we'll do our best."
"There are lots of soldiers out there," Walter warned as Tybalt worked the key in the lock.
"Don't worry, Gran says the King's knights are the best in the five kingdoms!" Fabian boasted.
Gwaine shared a look with his fellow knights. They had no weapons and they were up against more than double their number. "We had better be," he said grimly.
"Got it!" Tybalt said. The door swung open.
"Thanks, boys."
"Hurry!"
Gwaine and the others did not have to be told twice. They dashed down the corridor. Gwaine wouldn't slow for anything but Leon and Elyan swiped up the swords of the unconscious guards – absently noticing the broom handle and cooking pot that the boys must have used to knock them out. The party sprinted up the stairs. Gaius and Gwen couldn't keep up with them; they called out that they were going to go and get some emergency medical supplies and branched off in the opposite direction.
Gwaine pulled into the lead. He had failed Merlin once and he was not going to do it again.
Gwaine had lived his life getting in and out of the worst kinds of trouble, but he had never run as fast as he did now.
He burst out into the courtyard.
The pyre was burning.
Gwaine did not falter in his headlong pace. His heart was screaming out in anguish that he was too late but his mind refused to believe it.
Behind him he heard the battle cries of Leon and the others; cries for vengeance. They thought Merlin was lost.
Out of the periphery of his vision he saw a sudden flurry of activity up on the balcony. Agravaine had Arthur at sword point but as he had turned to the source of the commotion below Arthur used the moment of distraction to launch an attack of his own. He batted the sword point aside with a gauntleted forearm and delivered a powerful kick to Agravaine's chest that knocked him to the ground. Arthur drew a sword from the scabbard of a nearby soldier and was immediately engaged in a fierce battle against impossible odds.
"To the King!" Leon yelled.
Gwaine refused to change course. He charged at the wall of guards at full speed, unwilling to even consider the possibility of failure.
But when he slammed into the first soldier the entire wall crumbled as if struck with a battering ram. He was shocked to realise that he wasn't alone; more than two dozen civilians had joined his charge and were striking at the soldiers with anything they could find. More and more people joined the fierce melee, overpowering the soldiers through sheer force of numbers.
Gwaine broke through. The heat from the pyre struck him almost as a physical blow. Thick smoke clogged the air.
For half an instant, a slight breeze cleared his vision. He saw Merlin; he saw his eyes flare white hot.
A terrible scream rent the air.
Gwaine braced for death and destruction and the end of all things – he remembered Morgana's hut and he knew there could be no defence against this magic. To threaten a sorcerer was to court total annihilation and this time Agravaine had pushed too far.
But the explosion never came. There was a slight concussion in the air and in the sudden absence of smoke, Gwaine saw Merlin's eyes.
They were blue.
Gwaine experienced a moment of pure elation as he saw his friend return from wherever his magic had been hiding him.
But then Merlin collapsed. He hung limply in the ropes that bound him, blood trickling from his nose and ears, utterly spent.
The magic had imploded.
"No! Merlin!"
Heedless of the danger, Gwaine ran forward and started ripping apart the pyre. Red-hot embers scorched through his gloves and his over-heated armour threatened to roast him alive but he didn't care. He scattered burning logs and scrambled through flames onto the platform. The ropes had disintegrated to ash; Merlin was crumpled in a heap. The state of him was enough to make Gwaine choke on bile and almost spew up the ale he had drunk last night, but if there was even the slightest chance that he was still alive Gwaine would take it. He seized Merlin's arms and dragged him off the platform.
The crowd pulled back to make space for them. Someone tossed him a red cloak torn from one of the knights that he swiftly rolled Merlin into to quash the flames. When the fire was out Gwaine laid Merlin on the cool stones and checked for any signs of life.
"C'mon, Merlin, be okay. You have to be okay."
But Merlin gave no response. His head lolled.
He wasn't breathing.
ooOOoo
A moment of distraction was all Arthur needed.
He saw Gwaine burst from the castle, closely followed by Leon, Percival and Elyan. The noise from the crowd swelled in reaction but the battle cry of the knights was still audible above the din. Agravaine turned to see what was happening. A split second later Agravaine was on the floor and Arthur had a weapon in hand, but the soldiers guarding him spurred to action. In Agravaine's defence. Arthur had trained these young men; he had taught them everything they knew. He knew their skills but he also knew their weaknesses and he used that knowledge against them. He was careful not to hurt them too grievously, knocking them out where possible or inflicting shallow wounds in strategic places that forced them to withdraw from battle.
Even so, there were more than he could handle on his own. They almost overwhelmed him. Just as his sword was knocked from his grip, the Calvary arrived.
"Sire!" Leon called. He tossed a weapon across the distance between them. Arthur caught it out of the air and whirled to face his next opponent.
His sword clashed against Agravaine's own.
"Come now, Arthur, don't be foolish-"
But Arthur was done being lied to and manipulated. He brought his sword down hard and Agravaine barely deflected it. His eyes widened as he realised that his silken words could not save him now, but as Arthur's sword bore down on him he recalled his weapons training and responded with equal fervour. They exchanged a furious flurry of blows and with every ring of steel Arthur's anger grew. He was determined to see Agravaine pay for his crimes.
But when Arthur heard Merlin scream, all thoughts of justice vanished from his mind.
The muscles in his arms bunched for a powerful swing. His sword slammed into Agravaine's wrist; there was a spray of blood and his blade clattered to the ground.
"Arthur-" Agravaine gasped.
But Arthur had no desire to listen to anything the traitor had to say. There would be no forgiveness, no second chances, no mercy.
"This is for Merlin," he said.
He plunged his sword directly through Agravaine's heart.
He didn't wait to hear the death rattle in his lungs or to see the light fade from his eyes. He cared nothing for this man.
The only person he cared about right now was down in the courtyard, dying or already dead.
Arthur was barely aware of moving, but somehow he found himself amidst a people who were stunned to silence. They made way for him, clearing a path directly to where his best friend lay sprawled on the cobblestones.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Gwaine said hoarsely. His armour was blackened with soot, his exposed skin was reddened and burned, patches of his hair was missing. "I tried - I tried to save him. But I was too late."
Arthur couldn't answer him; this was no one's fault but his. Protecting Merlin had been his responsibility. He had promised that Merlin was safe here.
Every step was an effort. Arthur felt weighed down by grief and guilt and the agony of his failure. When he reached Merlin's side his legs collapsed beneath him. He landed heavily on his knees.
Once so full of life and energy, Merlin now lay still. Quiet. Lifeless.
"No," he whispered.
"I saw him there, in the end," Gwaine said. "He was Merlin again, just for a moment. I think – I think that's what he would have wanted."
No. Merlin had wanted to be standing by Arthur's side as Albion was reborn. He had wanted to see magic returned to the kingdom. He had wanted to herald in the golden age of Camelot. He had wanted to be safe and accepted and valued. He had wanted to live in freedom and peace.
He never would have wanted to die like this. This was the fate he must have feared since the first day he arrived in Camelot. He had used magic for Arthur's sake in full knowledge that if he was ever caught he would be burned at the stake.
Arthur had given him hope that his days of living in secrecy and fear would soon be over.
But Merlin had been tortured. Merlin had been imprisoned. Merlin had died screaming.
Arthur bowed his head over his friend. Tears welled up in his eyes and he didn't even try to deny them. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He laid a gentle hand on Merlin's chest and struggled to think of a way to say goodbye.
Numb with grief, he almost didn't notice the strange sensation trickling down his arm.
But he jerked back in surprise when Merlin took a sudden gasping breath and started hacking up his lungs.
"Merlin!" Arthur pulled him into his arms to support him as he coughed and gagged. "Easy, take it easy!"
Merlin's chest heaved, pulling in desperate gulps of air. His eyes flickered open and skittered around uncertainly before lighting on Arthur's face.
Blue. His eyes were blue. Stunning, beautiful as a summer's sky, blue.
"Merlin don't you dare scare me like that again!"
"Can't – promise," Merlin whispered.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Merlin tried to speak but another bout of coughing stole his voice. When it passed he collapsed weakly in Arthur's arms.
"'m sorry. Sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
Merlin shook his head. "Can't… can't come back to you. Like you asked. I'm-"
Arthur felt a deep sense of foreboding but he tried to make light of it. "This isn't you resigning, is it?"
"No. Happy… to serve you. Til the day I die."
Arthur clutched him closer. "That day is not today. Do you hear me? You cannot die on me, Merlin, that's an order."
"My magic… is gone, Arthur. It tried to save me and I… I didn't let it."
"Why?"
"Innocent people. Too many… had to keep them safe. What you would have wanted."
Arthur gazed down at his friend, heart aching with sorrow. "This is not what I wanted," Arthur whispered, gently wiping a streak of blood from Merlin's cheek. "Come on, Merlin, you have never let me down before. I need you to be okay. I need you to get better."
"It's gone, Arthur. I can't – I can't feel it inside me anymore. My magic is gone."
"But Gaius said you don't just have magic. You are magic."
Merlin nodded weakly. "Think… I'll be gone soon, too."
"No." Arthur refused to believe that. "You have already died on me once today. I won't let you do it again."
"Sorry…" Merlin exhaled. His eyes began to lose focus. His eyelids drooped.
Arthur shook him. "No! You can't leave me. We have a destiny, remember? You can't have one side of a coin without the other. I can't unite Albion without you."
Merlin smiled faintly. "Believe in you… Arthur Pendragon… May be a prat but… be a great king."
"Not without you. I can't do this if you're gone. We're soul-bonded. I need you."
Merlin lifted a shaking hand to lay it against Arthur's cheek. He gazed up into Arthur's eyes, conveying more than he could express with words. His breathing was shallower, laboured, but he had one final thing to say. "It has been… an honour to serve you, my friend."
Arthur placed his hand over Merlin's, clinging to that moment of connection between them, refusing to accept that he would have to let his friend go when they had only just found each other again.
"Merlin…"
But he didn't know what to say. There was too much to say, so much left unspoken between them. It would take a lifetime, they needed a lifetime. They were supposed to grow old together. It was not supposed to end like this.
"Merlin-" His throat burned and he closed his eyes against the tears. One escaped. It slipped down his cheek, a sign of weakness that no King should ever display. But all along, Merlin had been his strength.
A gentle thumb brushed at the trail of moisture.
"Sorry…" Merlin exhaled. His eyes fluttered shut. His hand fell limply to his side.
"No. No! Merlin, please-"
The strange sensation stirred inside him again. It almost felt like…
Magic.
"Merlin is no ordinary sorcerer. His magic is not simply his own, but is drawn from the earth… and from you."
Soul-bonded.
Merlin's magic had been bound, but when Arthur arrived he had broken free from his chains.
Merlin had been as good as dead, but he woke when Arthur touched him.
"Your magic is not gone, Merlin," Arthur realised. Fierce hope bubbled up within him as he caught Merlin's hands up in his own. "You and I are two halves of a whole. I may not be able to wield magic, but what's mine is yours." Arthur squeezed Merlin's hands, willing the life and power back into his friend. "Take it."
ooOOoo