A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

78. Chapter 78

Merlin and Gaius looked at each other with a sudden surge of panic after the knock sound on the door. "What are we supposed to do?" Merlin hissed, already throwing himself back to the window. But not to throw himself out or attempt to climb down it. He was snatching up the rope of sheets and jerking it back into his room so that he could slam his window to a shut. He had no idea who was at the door, but he 'definitely' knew he wasn't going to chance them coming upstairs and seeing how he's been coming and going.

Because if it turned out to be Arthur knocking on the door, he would probably try tightening the reins he thought he had on Merlin. It was bad enough that he had Gregory standing at guard duty right around the door. Next time it might involve Gregory standing inside of his room, watching Merlin as he went through his mental breakdown over Gwen. But then again Merlin felt his heart jump into his throat after tossing the sheet rope to hide underneath his bed, maybe Arthur had knew about Gwen. He didn't know Merlin had been there listening in on them, maybe he had came to tell them her sentence in person? Merlin didn't want him to come tell him, he already knew. And he didn't want Arthur to see him going into yet another panic attack over it.

"First off-" Gaius managed to interrupt before his thoughts could go off in a spiral-where he would just drag attention to himself by trying his damn hardest not to start gasping for one hint of breath through a too small throw, and the tears to start flowing down his cheek. He didn't need another reason for Arthur to think he was 'disgusting' for not being able to hold himself together. Like he thought Merlin and his magic, his very essence and being, was. "We are not going to panic. If something was going on that we needed to panic about, the door would already be kicked in."

Unlike Merlin, Gaius had different concerns to be worried about. He didn't know exactly what spell Merlin had used to have healed up Gwen's father, but it was always possible that the guards managed to track whatever Merlin used for ingredients right back to him. Gaius wouldn't be able to help Merlin if the boy had landed himself in the jail cell right beside the handmaiden. Both of them arrested for doing something like 'conspiring against the laws of Camelot'.

"But-" Merlin started frantic, whipping around to look at his uncle with wild eyes. There was only so much he could take, and Merlin could just feel the snot that would be coming down his nose when he started blubbering after the news was hand delivered to him. Or maybe it might be someone else at the door, because Arthur couldn't be bothered to come and tell him himself. Merlin wasn't sure which would be worse. Arthur seeing him in the midst of a panic attack-he 'never' wanted to be seen as he had one, it was bad enough Leon 'and' his uncle had seen it-or Arthur not bothering to show up at all. Some husband he had, a real winner that one.

"Shhhh!" Gaius hissed, raising his hand while stopping Merlin from saying another word. It caused Merlin to snap his jaw shut with that clanging of teeth bashing together should. It took a second before Merlin got why he was being shushed, Gaius was clearly listening to something. And a straining of his ears later, it was hard by him too. There seemed to be a bit of muffled conversation coming from the door down below, just barely detectable to the ears. But not so loud that they could hear what was actually being said.

And then there was silence, not a sound to be heard throughout the chambers. So Gaius and Merlin shared another look, this one was so much less panicky then it had been. Now it was more concerned, were they about to be robbed or something? Who would actually be dumb enough to try and break their way into the physician's chambers? Especially as they were in the middle of a crisis. But then again, that was probably a good reason to go breaking into the physician's chambers. The people were getting desperate, and probably thought Gaius had something that would be able to help them. Even the people that were safe on this side of the boundaries were no stranger to the fear that seemed to be taking over the city.

But surely, Gaius considered, they would turn back once they saw the consort was inside of his chambers. Breaking in here would cause some serious jail time, or time stuck inside of the stocks. But endangering the consort even the Unwanted Consort, would give someone consequences that were a lot more grave. It would be in their best interest to leave once they saw 'Consort' Merlin at risk.

"…What's happening?" Merlin hissed quietly, looming over Gaius' shoulder when they had realized the silence was stretching on for far too long. Gaius shushed him again, but even he knew he probably didn't need too. Maybe the intruder had left already. On a normal day, it wouldn't have caused nearly a reaction of panic like it had. But considering what's been going on, both Gaius and Merlin had a reason to be extra paranoid.

Plus they were both on edge, which was very evident when both men jumped when there was another knock on the door. It happened to be a different kind of knock though, as if it had been done by two different people. That first knock had been more urgent, a severely beaten down on the door. But that second knock had been louder, firmer, and only two sound knocks. Professional.

"Stay here." Gaius hissed at Merlin with this warning in his tone. If whoever was here had shown up for Merlin, then it would be best if he remained out of sight. That would give him a chance to distract whoever while giving the boy a chance to make a break for it if he had to. Gaius nodded his head towards Merlin's creaky old bed or, more importantly, towards the rope of sheets hidden underneath. "Now, get that blasted sheet at the ready just to be prepared. But let me handle this first."

And then Gaius was gone, heading out of the room and down the stairs to head to the front door. Now, a normal person would have gave Gaius' words heed. A normal person would have started climbing out the window, fearful they would be the next one to be placed on the chopping block after the nobles got done with Gwen. But Merlin wasn't exactly normal, and he wasn't going to run.

Not after he'd already ran off when Gwen was being dragged out of the throne room. If they were here for him, then Merlin was just going to take his punishment like a man. And hope they would let Gwen go now that they had caught him. So, while Gaius strode across his room to answer the door, Merlin creeped out of his room until he was standing out on top of the landing, overlooking the room below.

Everything looked the same as it always had since before Merlin had arrived within the city boarders. Several long tables were scattered around in a disorganized mess. Dozens upon dozens of books were on those bookshelves lining along the walls. And those that weren't were piled in messy, disorganized stacks over the tables. Potions bottles, most labeled but a lot was left up to guesswork, coated along one side of the room to the next. Bits and bits of medical equipment like string used to give someone stitches or bandages to tie up cuts or make splints were in different areas. Merlin didn't even want to get started on the dust as it laid thickly on every surface.

One would think that something would look a least bit different. After the panic attack, after seeing body after body being carted into and out of Gaius' chambers before the town had been closed off. After seeing Gwen as she'd fled when she came begging for Gaius to do something to help her father…after he'd been a coward and left Gwen to her fate…but none of that was true. Because it all looked exactly the same as it always had. And it didn't feel right, it felt like something should be different like he was.

Merlin didn't get too much of a chance to get grouchy about it, because he saw Gaius was glowering at him from below, having noticed his appearance. But still, Merlin didn't move back to his room. He liked to think that he's done with hiding. Merlin was almost like this explosion waiting to happen, or an explosion waiting for something to happen that would set him off.

Merlin and Gaius' paranoid went unfounded when the old physician finally opened up the door to reveal Gregory standing guard like he usually would. But he wasn't standing there on his own, which must have been the first of the knocker. Merlin felt his heart leaping right into his throat, his mouth going dry as he felt a whole new surge of panic trying to overtake him.

"Consort Merlin! Consort Merlin!" Tom gave a loud shout when his eyes landed directly on Merlin on the landing. Merlin almost wished he had ducked back into the room, when he saw Gwen's father had come for him. He was steadfastly ignoring how his legs seemed to start shaking, and he hoped it was noticeable only to himself.

"Do not speak to the Consort without being given expressed permission." Gregory said in a sharp tone, staring down his nose with mild disgust at Tom's lack of proper decorum. The knight then turned back to them, ignoring the physician at the door completely so he could look up at Merlin. "Consort Merlin," Gregory said with a respectful nod of his head. "This man has insisting that he be able to seek an audience with yourself. He's refused to leave on his own. Would you consent to seeing this man, or would you like for me to send him on his way?"

Merlin's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at that, feeling like he was on display when the entire room turned to look up at him on top of his little balcony. His hands clenched around the railing so tight that they were turning this white color. Gregory was asking if he had his consent…at least somebody was asking him if he wanted to do something. Instead of just expecting him to comply because that's what a 'consort' was expected to do. But Tom was asking him for an audience? An audience was something only the poor did when they were an desperate need of help that only the rich were able to provide. It was one way the poor peasants were able to plead their cases right to the nobles, explain their problems and/or petition to have something done to fix it. Or to help solve disputes between neighboring peasants they couldn't solve on their own.

Merli never expected to be on this side of the audience though. He also never expected to be apart of an audience at all. Not even as the peasant, begging for help from the Royal family for the crops or something. It had been only a matter of time before somebody would come seeking for his aide. Only, Merlin didn't know how to give it. Or what was expected of him. Or…god forbid, how was he supposed to face Gwen's father after what he had done to her.

"Sire?" Gregory spoke up again when Merlin didn't answer for the longest time, glancing between the consort and the peasant man at his side. "I'd be more than happy to send this man away so that you can get some rest this evening." Even Gregory seemed to know how unsettled Merlin was about everything, barely able to keep himself steady on his feet as he dealt with everything.

"I think this might be a bad time." spoke up Gaius, standing by the door and clearly, the man was making an effort to herd everyone out of his chambers. "The Consort, like you said, needs his rest. So this would be better at some other time-"

"No." Merlin was interrupting before his uncle could finish, his voice coming out sharp and commanding. It surprised everyone from the looks on their faces, but it surprised nobody more than Merlin himself. But that could have been because Merlin was expecting his voice to come out more shaky or unsure. But it had not. Merlin cleared his throat, and keeping his hand on the rail so that he wouldn't fall down the stairs-his knees were still shaking harshly like something else-he started down the stair case.

"Merlin-" Gaius started, looking at Merlin with an expression of confusion. His faith in Merlin must've been really lacking, because the man clearly thought Merlin couldn't handle seeing Gwen's father. And maybe he was right. This 'was' probably just one more bad idea he was going to end up regretting he did. But Merlin thought he'd regret it more if he turned Tom away without hearing what he had to say.

"I'm sure you mean well, uncle." Merlin said as he made it to the bottom of the staircase, his hand clenching at the bottom of the rail before he was forced to let go. He didn't dare look back at Gaius, in case he saw something reasonable in his uncle's gaze that would've caused him to turn tail and run. He watched Tom instead, the peasant man quiet behind Gregory's sturdy arm that was blocking him from being able to approach Camelot's own consort. But the man's eyes were puffy, and was red-rimmed. Merlin swallowed hard, he'd never made a grown man cry before. And this was strange, knowing that such a large man was capable of showing expressive emotions as clearly as he was. Near identical compared to his daughter. "…I need to do this."

Everything was telling Merlin he should listen to what his uncle was telling him. He already knew what happened when he didn't listen to his uncle, Gwen sitting off in her jail cell could attest to that. But, like he said: he just had to do this. If Merlin couldn't be brave enough to look Gwen in the eye, behind the bars of her cell-he had a feeling he'd probably chicken out all over again-he could at least listen to her father. And this was easier because Tom had came to him. So Merlin, in a way, trapped with nowhere to go. Even if he had an out, all he had to do was tell Gregory to escort him out. But he didn't. Because he would deserve to have every little bit thrown at him. Even if Merlin was the convenient target for Tom and his anguished rage.

Merlin nodded to Gregory, who was poised to drag Tom out by the hair on his head with the slightest order from Merlin. "It's okay, let him in." Arthur would probably kill Merlin himself if he knew Merlin was giving out an unsolicited audience like this. He was sure it was usually more proper than this. Probably tucked away in the throne room, a line of peasant people stretching just outside the door while they'd waited the chance to see the Royal family. It would feature Arthur, Uther, and god forbid himself, finding answers to problems. But for the first time, Merlin didn't give a damn about Arthur. A guy who could sit there and let that injustice pass without a word, wasn't any guy worth Merlin's time. Even if what Merlin had done was so much worse…

Gregory stepped back, allowing Tom to step forward as he shut the door, sealing all four of them in the room for privacy before taking his place in front of it. He only stayed in the room because, without the proper protocols in place due to the spur of the moment of it all, things were liable to turn violent. Well, it wouldn't be the first time an audience gone awry if the peasant one didn't get the answer they had been searching for. And Gregory had to incapacitate Tom and get Merlin into a safe zone, away from the danger.

There was a moment of silence where all four of them stared each other down, neither one knew exactly how to start this thing. And for Merlin, this was his first 'audience'. Which he wasn't even sure he should be allowed to call it such. What right did Merlin have to listen to Tom, when Merlin was the root of it all. Hell, it was probably Tom who would be able to see straight through him. Who knew that Merlin was a liar. And a coward. And more guilty of this crime than anybody else…

"Tom," Gaius suddenly spoke up, looking over at the other man. Apparently, Gaius decided to play mediator when nobody was speaking up for themselves. He was taking charge over the very unique situation they were in, waving his hand at the dark skinned man. "Might you be interested in starting off with why you are here?"

Merlin couldn't bare to even look at Tom for a second longer, squeezing his eyes so tight he could see black and white spots dancing in a dizzying way behind his eyelids. He just knew he was about to get punched right in his face at any second now. There was no way it was a coincidence that Tom had approached him to have an audience, or civilized conversation or anything like that. Tom 'had' to know what he had done to his daughter. And now, he'd came here to exact his revenge on Merlin. He wasn't even going to try to stop him. If Tom thought Merlin deserved to get his arse beat after what he did, then he would accept it.

Hell, he might even get on his knees before arching his neck in submission. Let Tom have a really good go at him, even if he ended up in Gaius' care as a physician. It would be his penance for allowing this to happen to Gwen in the first place.

But nothing happened. There was no burst of pain along his jawline after Tom's knuckles hit it. He didn't hit the ground as a much bigger man pummeled him into the ground before his guard dragged him off. And Merlin was damn well disappointed that he wasn't going to get punished himself in some way. Not by Tom at least, Merlin'd already been furiously punishing himself for the last couple of hours or so.

Merlin opened his eyes, blinking furiously to clear up his vision. And his eyes boggled as he saw what Tom was doing instead. No, no, no…this was 'not' the man Merlin had met a few mornings ago. That man would not fall to his knees, arms flat against the floor above in front of him. Head pressed so tightly onto the floor that it would probably leave a woodmark against the man's forehead.

"What are you doing! Get up! Don't do that to me-" Merlin exclaimed before he could stop himself. A man like Tom should not be on his knees in front of a monster like Merlin. Merlin should be the one begging for some kind of penance for the pain he had caused this one family in such a short span of time. And Tom disgracing himself before Merlin…he took a step forward to wretch the other man back to his feet. But Gaius grabbed onto him harshly by the crook of his elbow, shaking his head in a rough motion before Merlin could reach the other man. A Consort should not show such emotions before a man asking for his help. It was a disgrace to Merlin. And it was to Tom, who bared himself down in front of his Royal consort.

"Please, my consort!" Tom finally spoke, not looking up from the floor. In fact, he probably pushed him head even further down against the hard floor, as if he was scared he'd offend Merlin and be sent on his way before he got what he came here for. "I have tried all that I can in the last few hours. I've tried every way I could too appeal the king's decision against my Gweenie. But he has refused to even see me at all. I've even tried to seek an audience with the prince himself, but Prince Arthur has decided he is not taking any visitors and had me sent away-"

Merlin's spine stiffened, his eyes going this dark shade unnoticed as Tom continued to ramble on in his panic, vaguely sounding like his daughter when she'd get started until she felt like she had put her foot in it. Merlin could feel pure 'Hatred' race through his body as if he'd been struck by a bolt of racing, red-hot electricity. He had felt many things during his time in Camelot. He'd-embarrassingly-had a brief crush on Arthur. He'd felt anger over the things the prince did. Felt frustration when he thought he could just bulldoze over whatever Merlin wanted to do. Felt sorrow as he said goodbye to what 'could have been', even felt resigned as he realized he never even had a chance to be happy. Had felt pissed over the little things, wanted to go beating the shit out of him with every infuriatingly smug smirk as it was dashed in his direction. But this would have to be the first time that Merlin fully and truly 'hated' Arthur. He more than wanted to kill him. This was even worse than when he'd confronted Arthur about the awful decision to cordon off the lower town. He wanted to 'kill' him. What kind of prince was Arthur, where it was okay to turn away a grieving father. And why? Did Arthur not want to have to deal with 'inconveniencing' himself? Probably too busy torturing another servant to bother helping a person in need.

"So," Tom continued, arms nearly trembling from the strain he'd been put under. He had been forced into silence by Gregory when he had first arrived. A peasant should stay quiet in the company of royalty unless they were spoken too. And now that Merlin had spoken and acknowledged him, it was like everything had came flowing out of the man. "You, My Consort, are my last chance. I have turned to you in my hour of need. My Gweenie's been arrested and sentenced to the executioner's platform. I beg of you, my sire-" he scooted up real close along the floor, and prostrating himself to the consort, getting so close that it looked as if he was preparing to kiss Merlin on his boots. "Spare my daughter's life. Take mine instead if you must, just let her go."

Merlin tried to back up, disgusted that Tom thought he had to throw himself down right at his feet to get a response from him. But his uncle was right behind him, his grip around his bicep going tighter to keep him standing in place. Gaius knew much more about what he should or shouldn't be doing. And a Royal Consort did not back away or show anybody the slightest bit of doubt. A Consort needed to look as if he knew what he was doing, and not as if he was floundering around with the rest of them. Even if said Consort had no idea he was doing, they needed to instill the confidence in the people.

Merlin turned to look back at Tom, steeling his voice, "W-what makes you think that I'd be able to help her if the king and the prince wouldn't?" By this point, Merlin could tell the man had no idea Gwen was stuck in the awful predicament because of Merlin himself. Tom wouldn't be on his knees for him if that is the case. Maybe Merlin should tell him, give him something that would get him off his knees and to the punching part Merlin had been oh so hoping for. But Merlin didn't allow himself to give into that urge, feeling his uncle's nails as they dug in his bicep through his shirt. He had to be a consort right now, no matter what his own personal feelings towards it was. But it also didn't escape Merlin's notice just how ironic it was that Tom was here…asking him for this…when it might as well have been him who locked Gwen in her cell in the first place. And then threw away the key.

Tom perked his head up when Merlin asked his question, the boy who should not hold a position of power over somebody that was so much older than himself, before ducking his head back down in reverence. Grateful, Tom was, to finally be heard, that he would have taken anything Merlin had to give him. "You are a member of the Royal Family," the man spoke as if he was speaking to a God, Merlin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. The strong grip Gaius had on his arm made him pause to try and give off the appearance of somebody who knew what they were doing. "Surely the king would listen to you if you put in a good word for my Gweenie?"

Merlin's eyes almost fell right out of his head, because he had no idea how 'anybody' could have gotten that kind of impression. Did the king seem like somebody who would listen to poor from the country Merlin, so therefore he could not 'possibly' understand what politics and such were being involved. If not even the stupid, stupid prince was willing to speak up on behalf of Gwen, then Uther was definitely not going to listen to Merlin. But Gaius' firm grip on his arm told him that he couldn't just stand here and say nothing, "I don't think I'd be able to do anything-" he settled on, rather poorly. And clearly the wrong thing to say as Gaius dug his nails deeper into his arm. Gaius couldn't say anything though, to stop him as it would've been seen as interference from a non-Royal. No, Merlin was basically all on his own.

And it was a lie as well. There was dozens of things Merlin could do to turn this around for Gwen. And every one of those ideas included throwing himself to the dogs. His throat was left tight at the thought, he figured it was only a matter of time before he'd have to abandon his mother's golden rule: protect himself. At this point, he was just biding his time for the inevitable.

Tom's head whipped up when Merlin started to sound indecisive, "I beg of you to help me and my family!" He looked scared now, which was the exact opposite of what Merlin would want him to be, fearful that even the Consort was going to turn him around. Tom started to plead his case as if it would make any kind of difference to how Merlin would help him. "My Gwen is not any kind of witch! My Gwen is a kind and good, honest wholesome girl. She does beyond even her duties and will ask for nothing in return! Gwen's not the monster or demon they are making her out to be!"

And damn, Merlin thought, didn't that seem to sting him right where it hurts. Directly into the center of his chest. Even though he knew he shouldn't be having a pity party over what Tom had inadvertently called him. It's not like the man knew he had called Merlin a monster or demon, the one thing he would often call himself. Merlin almost felt his hands wanting to start shaking, but he stopped them before it could be noticed. Merlin just had to remind himself that Tom wasn't talking about 'him' specifically. He was talking about some other mystery magic user that had clearly framed his Gwen…which as far as Tom seemed to be concerned, couldn't be Merlin.

Merlin shook his head, his fists twitching into open and close motions before he stopped himself quite forcibly. He had no time to let things like that get into his head. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard those things before, where else would he get his 'favorite' term. "Uther is not going to listen to me." He repeated, so he wasn't even going to try that route, his voice hardening. "He has already made up his own mind on the matter. I have no influence with his decisions…"

And apparently no influence with Arthur, the consort thought as his jawline hardened with his voice. He should have known the second Arthur had called his magic 'disgusting' that he wouldn't lift a finger to help anybody who he thought had it. And he'd begged-begged-him for his help. Merlin's fingernails dug into the meat of his palms. His growing rage with all of this was like a low shimmer deep inside of him, just waiting for the one thing that was going to set him over the edge. The one thing that was going to send Merlin flying right out of this room to do the one thing he should've done hours ago. Tell the truth. He just had to bite the arrow, and tell Uther that he was the one he had been looking for. Not a powerful enchantress that had some kind of beef against Camelot. But a boy with a power he didn't quite understand, and his only crime was wanting to help somewhere he wasn't wanted…

Merlin's shimmering anger seemed to ignite when Tom's already red eyes darkened even more, the watery brown looking so much like his daughter's that Merlin's heart 'ached' to be able to see her again. "Please, my Consort Merlin!" Tom pleaded for his help, refusing to give up on the only savior his daughter could have. "There has to be something that you'd be able to do! My Guinevere is no witch! She isn't! Surely, you do not believe the falsehood that is being spread about her!"

Gwen's reputation would never recover once she got out of the cells, if she ever got out of the cells. People would start to look at her in a different way. Side eyed and cautious, as if they knew better and thought Gwen got out of her sentence by luck instead of the young girl 'actually' being innocent. This falsehood of her wicked ways had already been spread among the servants, treating someone who was one of their own like a stranger. Making up stories among their friends with things like 'I always knew she was different' or 'I've been hearing her mutter strange words underneath her breath, what if they were curses' or even an 'I tripped over the rug and lost the soup I was carrying last week. When I looked back up, Gwen was behind me. What if I didn't trip on accident?' Stupid stuff like that, things the people with a brain wouldn't fall for. But there didn't seem to be many of those running off around the place at the moment.

Merlin didn't want Tom to think that he was one of those people. Somebody who would believe petty lies and those false truths those people told to get their five minutes of 'I have survived the witch' attention. Merlin, despite the way Gaius was grounding him by the firm grip on his arm, found it surprisingly easy to shrug the man off. He knew he wouldn't need the other man's guidance for this next part. It was probably the one thing Merlin knew he'd be sure of.

So Merlin strode closer until he was looming over the much larger man who was poised on bended knee, "You've misunderstood me," he spoke in a calm tone. Much more calm than it had been before. One might even be inclined as to confuse it with a Regal tone. But Merlin had kind eyes focused on Tom, soft eyes that had a thick layer of guilt hiding underneath its surface. "I know that Gwen is no witch. She is not the kind of person-" he had to practically force those words out, reminding himself that it was too keep his own secret from discovery in this crossfire. Demon. Monster. Beast. Evil. Killer. Whatever word you wanted to use, they all added up to Witch. Merlin let his bangs fall down into his face to cast an eerie shadow on his eyes, "I just don't think the King is going to listen to me any better than he did you."

Merlin could admit that this was a piss poor excuse, but it was all that had had to offer the other man. Merlin had already been told from others that it would be best if he let Gwen go, to suffer her fate on her own. Gaius who told him it was too late for her. Arthur who would refuse to get off his pretty golden thrown to protect a citizen of his kingdom. Nobody had cared when telling him, but Merlin could take even if he didn't agree. It seemed to be far to callous to tell a father that his daughter would die. It 'was' too callous coming from the one that had put her there.

Tom was relentless there, his desperation was getting obvious as his breath hitched in his panic. "But sire, please!" he sobbed, and Tom threw himself forward. Merlin exclaimed out in surprise when Tom grabbed onto one of his legs, looking at him with his imploring eyes. And then he had to shake his head with franticness at Gregory before the knight was able to step forward, sword already coming out as if he was about to detach Tom's hands from his body for daring to touch the consort without expressed permission. Tom acted as if he didn't know just how close he had came to losing his hands, his long fingers clutching the fabric of Merlin's pants and nearly jerking him off his feet, "You are my only hope! The only one who will listen! My Guinevere, she's talked about you all the time. About how she thinks your sweet and funny, and how Prince Arthur couldn't have chosen a better one to be his consort! Gweenie's been a good friend to you since you've arrived, hasn't she? Does that not count for nothing!"

Merlin didn't say anything, but only because Tom had struck a nerve. All this time, Merlin had been thinking 'me, me, me.' God, he was so selfish. Always thinking he was doing his mother proud by denying what he was. Merlin was used to denying himself, but why did this mean Gwen had to suffer for it. Not even his mother, overprotective and proud, would be very proud of the way he'd been acting. Not if it meant leaving somebody else to suffer with 'his' punishment. Tom was right, Gwen was a good friend to him ever since the day Merlin had arrived-a friendless boy-in this town. Not many people would come up and introduce themselves to the latest fool in town, or that was what everyone was thinking when he'd been in the stocks. And yet, what had Merlin done to return the favor for all that Gwen had done for him?

Gwen had…made him feel not so alone at his own wedding.

She had…helped teach him about armor and how to put it on back when Merlin wanted to impress Arthur.

She had…encouraged him to stand up for his rights and protect the city from Valiant, even when nobody else had believed him.

She had…helped him get the dog statue up to his room without lifting a finger.

Comforting him when he thought the world was going to crush him whole. Encouraging him to try things with Arthur, even if it hadn't worked out in the end. Following him without asking questions because she trusted him…

Somebody who showed compassion to him in a world that wanted nothing more than to stomp it out.

And what had Merlin been doing in return to all of that? Sure, he defended her from Morris that 'one' time. And he'd saved the life of her father. But the first one seemed to pale in this comparison after all she'd done for him. And the second one…he almost wished he'd just let Tom die in the first place. Then none of it would be happening. Gwen wouldn't be off wittering away her last hours in the cold cells of a dungeon. And Tom wouldn't be down on his knees, begging for the true criminal to be able to bring their family some kind of peace.

"…It counts for everything." Merlin spoke up to the man at his feet, his voice coming out in a rawness that no Royal should be showing so openly. But it worked for Merlin, especially as his eyes were starting to grow just as red-rimmed as Tom's were, eyes looking damp as he struggled to keep his tears from streaming down his face all over again. The laws against magic were 'wrong', Merlin thought to himself with a sudden fierceness that surprised even himself. Merlin might be a monster for simply being born different, but at the same time, he didn't deserve to die because he'd been born different…because he had helped somebody.

But magic was against the law, no matter how unfair it was. Merlin wasn't going to change it just because he wanted too, no matter what a dragon underneath the castle thought. Merlin just being alive was breaking the law, it didn't matter how much he'd buried his magic deep into him, even now, he could feel feel a flicker of it trying to ignite through his body. It never left him. Even when he wanted it too. It was a burden he had to bare. Gwen didn't have that burden. She hadn't asked for any of this. The only thing she had done wrong was having a shred of kindness towards the boy everybody else hated.

Who was Merlin to give Gwen anything less than what she had given him…

But maybe Merlin had taken up to much time to formulate his answer, because the hope in Tom's eyes seemed to dim. But still, the man put his forehead back to the hard wood floor and Merlin wanted to wrench the man's head up all over again. He was the last person Tom should be bowing too. "Please…" Tom said in a croaky monotone voice. His pleading was a last ditch effort, fingers curling against either side of his head as he finally let go of Merlin's leg, when the consort didn't agree to help his family immediately. "I know it's wrong for this simple man to ask help for help on the behalf of his servant daughter but…won't you show mercy and save my Guinevere."

Merlin's breath caught in his throat, as there was something in the air that seemed to still at this. Gregory didn't come forward with his blade. Gaius didn't hiss something inaudible to Merlin to try and coach him throughout his first 'audience'. Tom didn't dare lift his head in case he offended Merlin by asking more than once to save his daughter. And Merlin found himself dropping to his knees in front of the man, grasping Tom by one of his hand in order to get his attention.

This action seemed to make everybody surge into movement at Merlin's unconventional way of doing things: Gaius surged forward as if he was about to jerk Merlin off the floor, his hands outstretched but not actually touching him. Gregory was by Merlin's side in just half an instant, his sword fully withdrawn, bringing it down to rest at the base of Tom's throat. It was clear he was prepared to take Tom's very own head off, despite this being Merlin's own movement. Society at it's finest, always being the first to blame the one that would stand to the side instead of being the main fixture.

"I will." Merlin said, his voice sounding steady and sure for the first time in the longest time. It was probably the first time somebody had came to him, asking for his help. And Merlin'd have to make sure he didn't disappoint. That is why Merlin put his hand down on top of the sword at Tom's neck, the man frozen against it because one inch of movement could have cut deeply across his throat, before pushing the sharpened edge of it away. Gregory was not happy, but he allowed the movement as his consort commanding him not to attack an unarmed peasant. "You can trust me on this, I will not allow Gwen to die. Not for this." Merlin didn't know how exactly, he was going to get Gwen out of this. But he knew that he would.

Tom, now no longer constrained by the blade at his neck, literally collapsed at the consort's feet. He blubbered out his 'thank you's', while being barely able to get the words out. Tom barely believed that this was really happening to him, that the Prince Consort took time out of his day to listen to him. Hadn't dismissed him as nothing more than a distressed father to the accused. And was actually going to do something about it…

Merlin slowly rose to his feet, his eyes trained sorely on the man blubbering at his feet. True Royalty, a True Royal Consort, would have not 'ever' debased themselves by getting down on their knees for a commoner. It could have been seen as a sign of weakness, a sign that the Royal member-in this case, The Consort-was not the one in charge. But Merlin didn't care, only somebody with a cold heart could have seen Tom on his knees, begging for him to help, and then turned him away with a flick of dismissive fingers…Merlin's eyes started to wonder over Tom's form-shoulder's shaking with his relief. Merlin might not want to be the Consort, but it didn't mean he could neglect his responsibilities as one. It was a burden he had to carry that weighed just as much as his being a sorcerer did.

Gains was right behind him, practically being plastered to his side. Leaning over, the aged physician said softly in his ear, "You shouldn't be making promises that you won't be able to keep." his voice ringing in his disappointment, that Merlin hadn't thought this through. Even Gaius thought Gwen was a lost cause at this point.

But Merlin had thought things through before he had even gotten on his knees. He'd known full well what he was promising, and what the cost of said promise might mean for himself and what he would have to do. "Trust me, my uncle-" Merlin spoke in a strangely calm kind of voice, never taking his eyes away from the blacksmith as Gregory lifted the still relieved blubbering from Tom, escorting the man from the chambers. "This is a promise that I'll have every intention of keeping."

As a Consort, it was his duty-his job and his burden-to protect anybody from facing their execution for a crime they didn't commit. But it was Merlin's duty as Gwen's friend-one that he would gladly take on-to do whatever it would take to get her out. Even if that meant undertaking the flames in her place. Like he should have done in the first place.

Merlin ignored Gaius protesting at his side as his uncle tried to enforce what a bad idea this was, trying to demand Merlin tell him what he was planning on doing. The physician fell into silence when Merlin turned around to face his uncle, his lips thinned to almost nothing while his eyes were solemn and suddenly aged and looking ten years older than he was, "I will be doing whatever I can to make sure that Gwen will not burn for my sins." His voice sounded determined even to his own ears.

Merlin had been wrong about many things in the last hour or so. But the 'worse' thing that he had done was ask Prince-Bloody-Arthur Pendragon for help with Gwen. Even after he had called his magic disgusting! Had shown Merlin his true colors, and what he thought of those with magic…he wasn't going to rely on Arthur being a proper prince anymore. It was clear that he wasn't. And Merlin would just be doing this on his own.

Merlin rushed past Gaius trying to talk some sense into him, practically running into the wall as he slammed into it going up the stairs to his room. This was just one more thing he didn't need Gregory following him around the place for. Merlin would never get away with it if he had the knight following him. Merlin was slamming his door shut and throwing himself to his window where the sheet was hanging out still, just waiting for it to be needed.

It was moments later, when Merlin started to throw his leg over the windowsill so that he could climb out-fingers curling tightly around the sheet tied to his bed frame-did his brain start to catch up to him. This was what being a Royal Consort meant. Not the climbing out of the window part, but the other part…what his job was other than 'looking all pretty and doing what he was told'.

It was protecting people.

Protecting people who didn't know how to, or couldn't protect themselves. Just like he had tried to when he'd argued Arthur's decision to follow Uther's ruling in cordoning away the lower town. He'd failed, because that was the one thing Arthur hasn't budged off. But he'd tried. And that had to count for something.

Merlin's feet landed on the ground outside his window, the dust kicking up from where he'd landed. And then he started to run fast as he could across the landscape, there was one thing he had to do before he did what he had to.

Because a Royal Consort, Merlin had learned just now, wasn't a slave trapped by all these circumstances he didn't ask to be alert of. A Royal Consort's-prisoner as he was-wasn't meant to sit back and do whatever he was told a consort was supposed to be. It was a consort's job to make things happen, to be the one strong enough to stand against any injustice he saw. It wasn't about his desires or his feelings or what he wanted.

A Royal Consort was a slave to the people. To what was in their best interest. Merlin had to remember that.

X

Merlin crept along hallway after hallway with fast precision. Or at least as fast as he could go without being caught. Maybe Merlin didn't have to hide what he was doing, it would look perfectly natural for Camelot's consort to say goodbye to a friend before they were brought up on execution level charges. But the castle seemed to darken the further he went down into the bowels, the hallway casting shadows that deepened with each and every turn he'd take. It was eerie, and practically screaming at him to turn around and go back toward the safety of his uncle's chambers.

But he didn't. Even if every instinct screamed at him to do so. And the weirdest part about it all was? Merlin wasn't even scared. No, his reasoning was not for being scared. He didn't duck behind passageways whenever his path came across a maid's. Those that saw him as they carried their baskets passed him turned up their nose in disgust, as if they had smelt something foul. He wasn't really hiding, more like just ducking out of the way. Merlin didn't hold his head high and pretend he was doing something completely innocent whenever a 'noble knight' passed by because he thought he was scared of them. Even when he found himself picking himself off the ground after he'd been unceremoniously tripped once or twice was he scared. He wasn't angry. Merlin wasn't even annoyed. He would brush off the dirt from his hands and knees and continued on his way.

He was strangely calm about everything. And that was odd considering how much sensory overload he was going through. When you're about to die, when you know any second was going to be your last breath, everything in the world looked different. The snootiness Merlin saw in the servants was laughable, watching as their faces scrunched up at just the sight of him leaning against the wall to allow them to pass. The harshness of his hands scraping across the ground made him want to fall back to his knees and play in it. Ignore the knights who stood over him, thinking they won some kind of game only they were playing, while he traced the shape of the stones to memorize it like he'd never see a building structure again.

The air seemed to grow more shallow-crisp-the more floors he went down. It would start to get colder and colder as he'd see less and less windows. It was hard for any warmth to get down here when there was nothing open to invite it in.

It was remarkable what things people noticed when their minutes were numbered.

And it was remarkable what things someone might miss when they are so busy studying all of the little things they might never see in their very short and limited lives. Even if the things he managed to see were not on his ten things I would like to see before I go off to my death list. But he was so distracted by letting his fingers trail along the wall, feeling all over the rough cobblestone of the wall that Merlin never saw Markus coming down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Maybe if he knew what a dick Markus was going to be, Merlin would have actually hid so he wouldn't have to waste his time on it. Nah, who was he kidding. His only concern was to get to Gwen, no doubt he would have ignored the man on the medieval version of steroids if he had seen him.

"Merlin!" Markus snapped, looking up to see the smaller boy about to pass him by without a glance in his direction as he was removing his gloves. And already, Markus had his teeth set on edge by what seemed to be a blatant dismissively. Markus was tired, on edge, had been on his feet for hours on end, and then here comes Merlin. Looking like he had not a care in the world.

Merlin jolted in surprise as he snapped out of his wonderings-if he would get the chance to see the sun again before they burned him at the stake-when Markus snapped at him. The boy's head whipped around to look at Markus before quickly rounding around the man who took a stand in front of him, "Sorry, but I have things to do. If you had something to say that concerns me or my 'conduct' go complain to Arthur. I'm sure he would love to hear it-"

After all, Merlin thought, nothing good came from when Markus tried to talk to him. This was the guy that said weird things to him the moment they left, being all flirty and weird even when he knew Merlin had just married his best friend. And then there was the time he was still saying weird things to him, Arthur never did clarify exactly what Markus meant when Merlin had asked him, not that he was thinking about it…it seemed pretty dumb to drag all that up again with everything else that was going on. Let's just say, Merlin had never been particularly enthused concerning Markus and his role in Arthur's life. Not since the guy had taken 'far' too much pleasure in dragging Merlin to the dungeons before he'd known who he was, before Leon had rescued him from the fate Gwen now had. That's right Merlin had to get to Gwen. So he had no plan to waste what little time he had left with this creep of all creeps.

"Don't go anywhere!" Markus interrupted Merlin before he could get more than a step or two away. Merlin would have just kept on going, having no patience with spending his last day in another pointless fight, but Markus grabbed him by his shoulder and jerked him back into place in front of him.

"What are you doing!" Merlin exclaimed while jerking his arm out of Markus' grip. He could no longer wonder off in his own head, trying to enjoy the desolate chilled view in front of him as he traveled down to the dungeons-the cells were only just a hallway away, he'd been so close before Markus had decided it would be okay to accost him in the hallway. "You do not get to just throw me around like that! You have no right!"

And sure, Merlin had gotten 'semi-used' to being thrown around when it was Arthur who did the throwing. The first time he'd done it to Merlin-god, was it really a month ago, he felt as if it was so much longer than that-it had been just before the tourney was kicking off to a start. The first time Merlin had wanted to help-to prove himself as capable-Arthur with putting on his armor. The prince hadn't been happy when Merlin let it slipped that it was Gwen-god, Gwen, why the hell was Markus stopping him from getting too her-had been the one to help him learn how to do it. Arthur had reacted by throwing him against the hard edge of the table, and pinned him down while trying to enforce Merlin into turning into a pile of putty. Fuck…his blood had almost felt like it was boiling under his skin, warmed towards his touch and receptive towards whatever was going on. And it had gotten even worse the second time, when Arthur had followed him down a dark hallway just to pin him to a wall. They had been alone then, instead of in a crowded area. It had been dark, quiet, and more intimate than the first. Enough that he'd found it hard to breath, Arthur's much larger body covering over him and keeping him in a place he wanted him. Merlin was usually this kind of touchy guy himself, but Arthur…he'd been something else back then. Then things had changed and Merlin didn't exactly like it anymore. But somehow, Arthur throwing him off his back-when Merlin had tried to tackle him during the flower incident because he'd been convinced Arthur was leaving only to go kill Gwen then-and pinning him to the floor in an easy motion, somehow managing to get a squirming and wiggling Merlin to stay flat with his stupidly fat knee pressing up Merlin's ribcage, was still preferable to what Markus had just done.

Markus seemed to flare up at Merlin standing up for himself, his nostrils flaring angrily, "Oh, and I suppose that it's only Arthur whose got that right? Little boy like you probably would like getting thrown around by a prince. Just a spoiled Consort now, aren't you, running off to play like a whore while the real men are off doing the work. Maybe since Arthur's far too busy to take care of you, I should be the one to take over and give you something to keep yourself busy with."

Merlin's mouth dropped open with surprise at that, even as he felt the blood underneath his skin start to boil. Not with the 'I don't exactly know what's happening, but I'm not opposed to finding out' boiling of curiosity he'd been feeling when Arthur threw him around. He felt more like wanting to kill Markus, to go ahead and use his magic to smash the man against the wall again and again until his brain went to splattering. He didn't even have to worry about being caught, he was about to go turn himself in anyway. So who cared if somebody saw him making a mess out of-no. Merlin put a halt to the magic that had been flickering to light inside of him. He wasn't going to kill the man, he might be dying soon but he wouldn't let his last bit of life proving to people that all the magic in the world deserved to be burned out. He was better than that. Even if Markus thought he could get away with calling him a whore-Arthur's whore, and wasn't that what people called woman who had loose morals (he'd never done it as what other people did had no bearings on himself since it hurt not one person)-but he didn't understand why he was being called one. It made no sense. Not like a guy could be a whore…Merlin decided he had more important things to worry about other than listening to Markus telling him all these weird things again…

He shook his head to get those thoughts out of mind before turning a frosty glare onto the knight. Where Arthur would have been fire, all lit up with passioned anger as he spoke, took control of the situation, or put an end to what little did not include Merlin-the one person he never could manage to 'one up'-Merlin was all ice. "Nobody takes 'care of me'." The dark haired boy said, his words cold enough that it could have frozen a man stone cold even with no magic being involved. Even his eyes were as hardened as an ice crystal would be. Now, Merlin might not understand why Markus had thought calling him a whore was appropriate-it never was-but it especially wasn't since he was a man. And therefore, couldn't be 'loose' with his morals like a woman since that was a physical impossibility. Unless Markus actually was a bit more dim than Merlin first thought he was… "I take care of myself, and Arthur's got no bearings on that."

Merlin didn't care how many times Arthur had 'offered him' something. To have his flooring in the Royal suite inlaid with gold. To give him clothing Merlin couldn't have afforded even if he took Morris' spot as Arthur's own personal manservant and worked for a year. He'd tried insisting Merlin could have whatever food he wanted brought straight up to him. Offered to send him shopping and let him buy whatever gizmo or trinket he wanted to make his room a bit more 'lived in.' Before he had moved out of the room that looked larger than his entire hut in Elador had been. And Merlin wanted to do nothing but shove that offer straight up the prince's ass. Treat Merlin like somebody that needed him, did he? Treat Merlin like he was some gold digger only interested in what Arthur could give him. Stuff was not what he wanted, and Merlin hadn't let Arthur dictate that. He definitely wasn't going to let Arthur's friend do the same…

Markus scoffed at that, looking straight down his nose at Merlin with disgust. But there was more disgust in his eyes than most people he saw nowadays. As if Merlin's very presence was sickening to him, "You can say things like that all you want, but we both know the truth of the matter. Somebody like you only wants what his prince can give him. But what, I find myself unable to stop wondering, is what do you do for him? What do you do to deserve a life of a pampered consort beside obviously causing Arthur problems. It's no wonder that he cannot stand you. I mean, he's out doing what he has to, trying to protect the kingdom and you're in here walking around like you've owned the place your entire life. Instead of just being married into it."

Merlin's eyes went impossibly colder, his lips going stark thin. Markus had pretty much laid most of Merlin's insecurities and problems on the non-existent table in front of them. And it was something that just wouldn't do, "You do know there are people that can help you with whatever problems you're having. Have you tried seeing a physician for your own issues and insecurities. I mean, if you want to marry Arthur or something, I'm sure that might just be something that can be arranged. If you'll think you can handle things better than I am right now."

Merlin was cold with his demeanor, so much different from how he interacted with people he actually liked being around. Merlin figured he wasn't the only one with issues, because this was the first time Markus had attacked him like this. But of course, whatever issues Markus was dealing with would pale with this bleak comparison to what Merlin himself was dealing with on a daily business. And Merlin wasn't interested in being another target to yet another knight whose own muscles were bigger than his brain. It wasn't too surprising though, considering each of the knights he'd run across were getting bolder and bolder in their actions with him. It was only a matter of time before Arthur's friends got in on all that 'fun.' And like he'd thought earlier, he had a girl to see before he died. So Merlin tried to leave this before it escalated, even though he halfway wanted it too just so he could punch the smugness out of Markus. He could take him…probably…Merlin had a feeling Markus wasn't as good a fighter as Arthur was.

But Markus stopped him, stretching his arm out to block Merlin from taking more than a step out of reach. Merlin looked at him with a irritation written all over his features, Markus scowled right back at him. "Now, is that any way to talk about your husband?" the knight sneered at him. His demeanor was extremely different from the other times he'd interacted with Merlin. And it was a sharp contrast when compared to Tom. Tom who'd thrown himself to his knees, blubbering as he made what he came there for known. Markus was just here, trying to blow smoke out his arse as he tried to mess with Merlin. "I mean-" the knight was continuing to talk, his smug smirk wavering a bit when he saw the surprising coldness on Merlin's features. "How do you think Arthur is going to feel if I tell him you're willing to just give him away like that?"

It sounded like Markus thought it was some kind of good blackmail to use against Merlin himself. Markus would threaten Merlin, telling him all about how the first thing he was going to do was tell Arthur what Merlin said. It was something liable to have Merlin tossed out of the castle, proof that Merlin had married the prince for his own selfish reasons like money instead of actually loving him. And that might have worked, if the two of them had married under normal circumstances. With this kind of information in his back pocket, the knight would have dropped it out every time he had wanted Merlin to do something. Thinking that Merlin would drop every little thing to obey his every order for fear that the prince would drop kick him out of the castle. Which left the consort-no longer a consort?-desolate, in the streets to starve. While having nothing within place as a support system, left to wander the streets while being shunned by everybody in the kingdom. Nobody would want to be seen showing kindness to the boy who displeased the prince so badly he'd gotten thrown out to rot in the streets, not even an allowance to be given for him to survive on. Wedding annulled and forgotten it ever happened.

Now, if only Merlin gave a damn about what the prince thought. Because if he did, then Merlin wouldn't even have to worry about a scheme like that from somebody. Anybody that Merlin had chosen for himself would've known it was a lie.

"Go ahead." Merlin said in his equally ice cold voice. Arthur already knew that Merlin could not stand him, a feeling that increased when he realized Arthur hadn't even tried a damn thing to help Gwen. Even when Merlin saw in his eyes that he knew this was wrong. Arthur was too much of a coward for Merlin to want anything to do with. Too scared of having his father's disappointment that he would watch an innocent go to her death before standing up to him. It made a stirring of renewed hate soar in the pit of his stomach, but his face-so full of expression usually-didn't even twitch to show his displeasure. "In fact, I'll walk you there and we can tell him together. I'll also be sure to include your little blackmail attempt if we get that far."

And then Merlin arched an eyebrow towards the other man, waiting for his response. Now, he had no doubt that Markus really 'was' just blowing smoke out of his arse. Nobody would be daft enough to interrupt whatever Arthur was doing for unfounded accusations like this was. Or at least not until the main crisis, like a sickness running rampant throughout the city was taken care of. It was widely known that the prince was hard at work on trying to stop the sickness. Merlin-now-personally thought it was a load of crap. But he was willing to bet Markus was smart enough to know bothering Arthur at the moment wasn't a good idea. He would never live it down, being known as the guy who risked so many lives over something like a romance problem, by dragging Arthur's attention away from the 'work' at hand that he was supposed to be doing.

Markus' eye twitched and Merlin felt a flash of victory when the knight was forced to very grudgingly, lower his arm out of Merlin's way to the rest of the hall. Merlin figured that was as good as he was going to get, and he had better things to do than waste his last day in conversing with Markus. To be honest, Merlin thought it wouldn't have even mattered if the knight did try to go through with a blackmail scheme like that. By the time Markus had told Arthur anything, it would be lost among other knights informing the prince that his consort was in the dungeons for practicing witchcraft and it's evil.

"Alright, so maybe you don't really care." The knight's voice stopped Merlin from walking to the dungeons to say goodbye to Gwen, and apologize for her ending up there in the first place. "Or is it because you think your safe to do whatever you want. Because you think the prince is over the moon for you or something like that?" Merlin wanted to roll his eyes and scoff at that. It was like Markus hadn't been paying attention to anything. Merlin 'knew' he had been there when he'd given Arthur that dreaded favor-still haven't managed to track down the thing, and Merlin figured it was one more thing he'd lost to Camelot's throne and heir-and if Arthur was 'over the moon' for him as Markus had said. Then Arthur would have worn the damn thing, no matter how stupid or ridiculous he thought it looked. Merlin may not have gotten sick afterwards when he saw how Arthur had so easily replaced it with this generic floral-feminine-one. Markus started to talk again, acting as if he hadn't noticed Merlin's thoughts wondering away. "You may want to show you can actually do something to help out. You clearly aren't equipped-" this was when Markus stopped to let his eyes go up and down Merlin's body, clearly accessing him and his appeared skill level. "For none of the harder stuff-" and Merlin was pretty sure this was Markus' version of 'being nice'. "But maybe you can do more background stuff to show Arthur your good wifey material."

The coldest in Merlin's eyes almost made the twin pools of blue stand out among the white of his skin. "Wifey…material?" he repeated in a slow tone, the warning gone from his voice but only because of how icy cold it was. Now, Merlin had been pretty sure that Markus was not as straight as Arthur was. So surely he'd know that there was no 'wife' in a marriage that held two men. Sure, there was the whole misconception thing where people thought there 'had to be a girl' so clearly one of the guys had to be more of the 'girlier' one. And Merlin hated to acknowledge that the 'girlier' one would probably be him. Only because he was smaller than Arthur, younger than Arthur was, the commoner instead of the prince, the one left to the side no matter how hard he'd pushed to be what 'he' wanted to be.

Markus nodded his head, seemingly calm as he tucked the gloves he'd been holding into his belt, the fingers of them poking out on the side of his stomach, "Right. You need to get off your arse and do something productive to help. Something that will 'actually' be helpful to the cause-" Markus gave a little sniff of his nose with disdain. And Merlin knew the other man was referring to the failed meeting of the council with Valiant. "So, here's what you are going to do-" Markus didn't ask, deciding he was worthy enough as a noble knight to boss around the commoner consort. It seemed he forgotten that even as a commoner, Merlin's status as a consort elevated him far up above the knights. "You're gonna run on down into the kitchens and get me something for lunch, I'm gonna be on the training grounds with a few of the guys while we're taking our break before we have to get back out there. So be a doll and make sure you get something extra for them to snack on."

Merlin stared at him silently, his face looking surprisingly blank compared to how he would usually look, full of expressions. Before, he'd been cold like an icy glacier forced to travel through a tundra. But now he was blank, and looked more dead than he was alive. "Yeah…I'm not doing that." He spoke calmly when it looked like Markus was about to walk away to leave Merlin to this outrageous demand.

Markus froze in mid-step, turning to look at Merlin with surprise. "What do you mean you aren't going to do it!" Markus demanded with a hot tone, his face going blistering red with less time than it took for Merlin to have said it. Markus, obviously, expected for Merlin to walk to the kitchens-which was on the other side of the castle. Practically as far away as it could be from the dungeons, and that wasn't a design flaw. It took forever for prisoners to get their food for a reason.

"I." Merlin repeated in a slow tone, talking to Markus as if he was an idiot. Which he most definitely was. Merlin's one and only concern was making sure he got to say apologize for what he had done to his friend. It was the one thing he wanted to do before he died, before he got down on his knees and-without trying to put up a fight-allowed the king to transfer Gwen's sentence onto him. "Am not. Going. To get. Your. Food." He had no intentions on doing what Markus wanted him too. Even if Markus was being nice and simply asked him for a favor, he wouldn't have done it. He just didn't have that kind of time, as he was sure Gwen's execution was getting prepared for at this very minute, "I'm sure you know where to find the kitchens. And if you don't, they aren't that hard to find. Just follow the kitchen girls there."

Satisfied with himself, Merlin turned around on his heel to leave. He'd wasted enough of his limited time on Markus, who was clearly going through some kind of ego trip! Merlin might not want to be consort, but he would be acting like one during his last day on this earth. Nothing against the servants, but he wasn't one, and wasn't going to act as if he was to soothe another man's fragile almost man-child like ego. And if Markus had a word to say about it, then he could just go ahead. If he wanted to run off tattling to Arthur about how 'awful' his consort was, then he could go ahead and do that too. Arthur would probably be more mad at Markus anyway, considering how he felt about reputation and all that. And heaven forbid his consort embarrass him by acting like a servant. Arthur would have some bigger problems to deal with in a few minutes anyway, once he'd been informed that Merlin had been arrested on witchcraft.

The maid to the King's Ward having a touch of magic was gossip fodder. But the Consort to the prince? Now that was a story that was not going to die for years to come. At least he could go out with a bang, known throughout the region or some crap like that. Merlin was just sorry he wouldn't be able to say a good-bye to his mother…

A hand seized Merlin around his wrist before he got the chance to leave, tight enough that it could mark him. Merlin jerked in surprise as he was yanked, his magic suddenly flicked to life inside of him, fire and light licked straight down his arm. Merlin smothered it down to a shimmering boil under his skin before it could come out of him like a punch. He still needed to make sure he got the chance to apologize to Gwen. If he got caught now, then he would never get that chance-Merlin's brain got cut off as he was jerked right into Markus' furious face.

"I have been out there, in the heat, searching for hours on end for three days straight," the knight snarled at him, shaking Merlin harshly, tightening and loosening his grip on Merlin's forearm. "I've been digging in dirt invested slum of those huts down there, trying to find a sorcerer that is killing people. And now that the girl was found using magic, many of the knights are getting a chance to take a breath. And what have you been doing during these last three days? What is keeping you so busy you can't even bring a Knight a damn plate of food after working so hard to keep 'you' and 'your people' safe." As if the hardest thing to do in the world was walk across the castle to ask-or in his case, order-the kitchen servants to make his own damn plate. It was a better option that what Merlin would have done on his own, which was actually growing the food in a little garden and preparing it himself.

Merlin felt a rabid snarl building inside of him, feeling the rancid breath of Markus blowing across his face, glaring up at him. The harsh ice that could have frozen a man in place had seemed to melt, a blistering wildfire brewing in its place instead. Enough was enough, and Merlin's forearm flexed in Markus' grip. Merlin could almost feel the lightning of his magic dancing up and down his spine before he had to forcibly smother it again. That did nothing to stop the electricity from being seen within his eyes.

X

"Don't you think we should stop this?" asked the knight. Dorian, one of the three knights who had brought Merlin to camelot in the first place, was peeking around the corner further down the hallway. Dorian frowned hard, while watching the scene playing out in front of him since it started. Even though Merlin had been known in many circles nowadays as a consort unwanted, wasn't it still their job as knights to protect him? Dorian should be jumping out of his hiding place with his sword in hand, ready to defend the poor lad. Or at least inform the prince of this unruly behavior being shown to his beloved. But Dorian would have figured it would be-if he had to lift his sword up to any attacker-a bandit or assassin. He didn't think it would be one of their own knights.

"We can't be expected to do that." Tristian, the second of the three knights that had took Merlin from his home, scoffed. He leaned far over the top of Dorian, keeping his balance in a precarious manner, to see the same scene that Dorian was looking at. He scrunched his nose up in disgust, their consort really was a weakling. A consort should be able to put the knight in his place, take command and make sure that Markus' knew this kind of behavior was unacceptable. Prince Arthur would have taken Markus down a peg or two if the knight ever put his hands on him like that. The best friend or not. Tristian scrunched his nose up in disgust, "Merlin is supposed to be one of our leaders someday, isn't he? What happens if Uther dies and Arthur is incapacitated over some reason or other. Then Merlin'll have to step up to plate. We cannot be expected to protect the newcomer, treat him like he's our leader already, if he cannot even gather the strength to protect himself."

Even Lady Morgana knew the basics on how to protect herself. Nothing strenuous, it was not good form for a woman to be able to fight on her own when she should have the armed guards around to protect her. Uther had been adamant about discouraging her from being able to learn anything for the longest time. So Lady Morgana had begged everyday during her youth, sharing horror stories with the king about young maidens who'd been separated from their guards until he agreed for Arthur to show her a few steps. And even if she didn't know a few moves with a sword, she could've gone straight to Uther to have the situation handled.

At the very least, Merlin should have gone to Arthur for protection. Or to insist that some kind of disciplinary action be taken.

"But…he's the prince's consort." Dorian said, looking up so that he could see Tristian trying to hover over him. "What would the prince do if he found out we just stood here, and didn't step in to protect the consort?" Dorian had always been a bit more of a rule follower than his fellow knight. A real stick in the mud, and determined to do things by the book kind of fella. Which 'would' include protecting any of the members of the Royal Family-which most definitely included Merlin nowadays.

Tristian rolled his eyes, not caring nearly as much as his long time work partner did, "Do you not remember seeing him at the party a few weeks ago? Arthur was with that girl, the niece of some important dude decades older than us-" he hadn't been surprised at all after seeing Arthur getting all close and personal to the woman. Had he or had he not called it 'way' back when they'd first gone to pick up Merlin. He'd 'known' Arthur wouldn't be able to stick with just one guy for long, he would need more time to sow his 'wild oats' or what the older generation would call it. "I'm pretty sure Arthur's not going to care nearly like you think he will if one of his knights roughens up his consort. Besides, maybe this incident will actually get him to toughen up a bit and he'll start doing something to ensure some kind of protection around here."

Dorian didn't look too convinced by this-were they not supposed to be the ones that swore to protect the Royal family? Because it looked as if Merlin needed some major help-but he'd stopped arguing about it. Tristian was right as he was about most things. Arthur didn't seem the type to get himself directly involved in his consort's protection. Besides, the scene they stumbled across wasn't exactly one that was surprising. They'd never seen one of the men trying to rough Merlin up, but they had heard the way some of them spoke about him. With crude words, inappropriate gestures, or even mocking things he'd been seen doing. It was like everybody had a reason to hate on Merlin for one thing or the other. Heck, some even had a time hating on his country accent just to have something else to hate on. And those were only the ones that didn't express any of their 'real' concerns. Like Merlin's conduct or what this might mean-having a peasant man so closely tied up with Camelot's throne-for the future.

X

"What have I been doing?" Merlin spoke up in a slow tone-repeating Markus-but being sure to keep his voice level as to not betray to the man how angered he was. Even now, he was able to feel the pulse and pull at his magic as it swirled around restlessly somewhere inside him, now the constant familiar presence that it's always been. Instead of the cold and dead thing it had felt like when Merlin had took the measures to squash it down flat. Merlin shot a look down his nose, staring at Markus' grip flexing around his forearm as if it was some kind of insect that needed to be squashed to a point. Which, for anybody that had actually known Merlin-really knew him-would know it was a strange thought. Merlin was always the kid who tried to catch the spiders inside the house so he can release them right back into the wild. Or 'so they can find their families or they'll be lonely' as he'd tell his mother.

"Yes, what have 'you' been doing, other than making a scene out of yourself everyone you get off your leash." Markus snarled, shadows cast themselves across Merlin's eyes at this, dropping his gaze back to the hand wrapped around his forearm. He was used to having a sudden trip in the hallway. Being shoved right up into the wall and left to sprawl on the floor and hoped he caught himself in a way where he wouldn't sprain his wrist. Having his things snatched right out of his hands and kicked on so that his papers or books or plants flew off down the way. Being snickered at everywhere he went, pointed and sneered at, treated as if he was a damn pariah everywhere else. He'd have to say though, this was the first time he had somebody grab him and jerk him around as they yelled in their face like this. That was something usually reserved for Arthur when he was in a bad mood. Which was, you know, every live long day. But most people usually just said what they wanted too, and then they hurried off as fast as they could. As if they'd get caught by someone in a position of power to actually stop it.

Markus' fingers tightened up as if to remind Merlin that he was so much bigger than him, tougher than him, could probably go rip him right in half if he wanted too. "Do you happen to think you're somehow better than the rest of us just because you wear that ring on your finger that's worth more than your entire life is?" His hand seemed to be large enough to wrap around Merlin's forearm twice, fingers touching on either side because of how small his arm was. "You are nothing," continuing to talk, Markus was practically making spittle fly in every direction, some catching Merlin right in the face as he raged. Over Merlin or about something else and just taking it out on him, Merlin didn't know. But he did figure, with the way Markus was broadening his shoulders he was trying to make himself look bigger, trying to terrify Merlin into submission. Or otherwise the knight would beat him into it. "But a little, cheap peasant boy. Trying to make it out into the world while wearing one of the crowns as they fall into your eyes for being far too big to wear properly." His hand tightened even what was bruising territory on Merlin's arm, and he shook him with every word as he impressed onto Merlin his strength in muscle alone.

…Merlin was largely unimpressed, and he just knew his face showed it. After all of the many times Arthur had tried dragging him around for one reason or the other-although Merlin didn't think Arthur had ever raged at him like this while putting his hands on him. After the time Merlin had seen Thomas James Collins being executed literally moments after he'd first arrived in the city, somebody who had been just like him. After narrowly escaping from Valiant who tried to plant one on him in that stupid armory-it would probably be a bit longer before Merlin felt comfortable going in there by himself again-and then watching as Arthur sliced him in half in front of the entire city. After watching Gwen-sweet, sweet, and crying, shrieking Gwen-getting carted away because Merlin had gotten carried away and tried to get involved…Markus didn't exactly do it for him.

"You're right." Merlin spoke calmly, moving his gaze from the grip on his arm and up to the man holding him. Markus seemed to look at him, startled by this sudden turn of events where Merlin agreed with him. His grip got all loose because of it, but Merlin didn't pull his arm free quite yet. "I am nothing more than a peasant boy wearing a crown-" that he didn't even have but Merlin figured this would be a more metaphorically saying than literal. "That is too big for my head."

There was a note of pride buried somewhere deep in Merlin's voice though, but it had been barely detectable unless someone knew him well enough to pick it out. Because Markus could parade around all he wanted, wearing his armor and acting like he was some kind of big shot. But Merlin would take the life he had before Camelot had taken him away any day of the week. If being a peasant-a commoner-in a world where that meant you were born to be less than, then sign him up. Merlin did not have the mindset that a noble had, so stuck up and set in their ways. Where even the little smallest thing, could cause you to be left out and shunned as a pariah with absolutely no chance of scraping yourself out of the large hole you buried yourself in. The people have done a good job at making sure Merlin would stay humble, that he wouldn't let this whole 'I'm a consort now so obey me' thing go right to his head. But his mother…his mother had raised a better son than what he's acted like the last few hours. His secret was important, but it wasn't more important than Gwen's life.

"So while you've been running around using your…skill set," Merlin continued talking, slow and careful, having every intention of ripping the man apart with just as words as opposed to his magic or strength. Because despite the way the man thought, Merlin had never 'once' thought he was better than the people living in this godforsaken here 'just' because of his new status. "I've been helping out by doing the only thing 'I' know how to do-"

With his magic. Magic was the only thing he knew he could do, the one thing that pulsed in every beat of his heat. It was like Gaius had said that once, magic was the easiest thing that came to him. Even if he didn't actually know what he was doing half the time, magic came to him easier than breathing did half of the time. It was why he used it to force that chain on the chandelier to break to stop Mary Collins from killing Arthur. It was why he had used magic to force the snakes outside the shield, only after Arthur had insisted on other means that didn't pan out. It was why he had used magic to cure Gwen's father…things had gone wrong, so wrong because of it. And he was not going to allow Markus' ego to get in the way of what had to be done. So Merlin straightened his spine, putting himself at the same height as Markus. His eyes weren't like fire, easily extinguished with the right tools on hand. They weren't like ice, easy to smash against the ground and watch as it shattered into a million pieces.

They were like steel. Immovable. Unmalleable in the face of those who tried to destroy it. To the forces of man. The elements of nature. To be able to withstand the test of time and age, sharp metal that refused to be knocked down to cater towards 'any' man. Merlin found it to be surprisingly easy to calmly pull his arm out of the knight's grip, refusing to show any kind of weakness by rubbing out the soreness as it presented itself in aching form.

"By assisting the physician in trying to find a cure." Merlin continued to talk, because that was true. Whenever he wasn't wasting what time he had dipping into a magical cure that was just gonna cause more problems in the long run, he had been hard at work for hours at a time trying to help Gaius with his testing and his experiments. His uncle had actually been right about it, he knew, magic wouldn't always be the answer. But that was actually something Merlin wished he'd known before he had to forfeit his life. Maybe then, things could have turned out differently for him. For Gwen…for Tom. Merlin shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts before lifting up his chin to look Markus dead in the eye, his sight unwavering like a steel cable, and resigned to what he had to do. "Which is actually another thing I'm trying to do now. So, unless you've found a change of heart and actually want to see even more people dying, and this time it will be you who are directly responsible since you think running your mouth should be more important than what I am trying to do, then I'll suggest you get out. Of. My. Way."

And then Merlin waited, watching Markus and his every movement with sharp eyes, getting himself ready for ant hint of movement that'll show Markus was preparing to slug him right across the face for his smart mouth. But as it would turn out, Markus actually agreed with him that this was a huge colossal waste of their time. Or he was too stunned by Merlin's attitude to do anything. Either way, Merlin felt as if he didn't care too much to stick around for a moment longer.

He walked around the knight, making sure he stayed steady and sure, keeping his eyes in front of him. Merlin was 'so' tempted to give into the childish urge of harshly ramming his shoulder into Markus', even if it would've just caused more damage to himself and his soft skin against the hard muscle encased inside his armor. But he decided it would probably ruin the whole effect-calm, cool, and mature collected adult-that he was going for.

Markus wasn't worth the added attention in the first place.

But if Merlin happened to sneeze after he'd gone around the corner, and his eyes just so happen to flicker to gold for a brief moment before they shimmered back to blue. If that large tapestry-a solid red color with this gold embellishments decorating across the cloth to form the pendragon crest-hanging on the wall next to where they were standing, just so happened to fall. If it happened to land right on Markus, making him jolt harshly out of the stunned state Merlin had left him on, causing him to cry out and scream. His hands flying everywhere but trapped underneath the cloth as he struggled to find his way out, acting as if he had just been attacked by the way he was trying to jerk his sword out of its sheath so that he could cut his way out…well, that was nobody's business but his own.

X

Back around the corner, and watching Merlin and his retreating back, Dorian turned to give Tristian an obvious look, "Weren't you saying a minute ago that he needed to learn how to stand up for himself?" He completely ignored the way Markus was glaring about, smashing himself into a wall, knocking over a vase and the glass shattering around him as he fell and hit the ground.

Tristian rolled his eyes, before pushing off the wall and walking off in the opposite direction. He was in no mood to hear Dorian telling him 'I told you so.' Especially not if he'd started to use the same sharpness in his words that the consort had when telling Markus off.

Dorian had a deadpan look on his face while following after Tristian. At least for sure, they knew Merlin had a bit of fight in him. As if the kingdom didn't already know that after all the messes he's been involved in since arriving in the city. But the only question was, was this a one time thing? Or would it become more of a habit, knocking overzealous knights back into their places.

X

Merlin was jogging, putting Markus out of his mind as he took the stairs two at a time down to where he knew the dungeons were. On the landing was a large hallway, but they also had a short staircase off to the side in this kind of hidden alcove. There was only about ten little steps heading down, leading straight towards a large wooden door with the rounded handle hanging off of it. Merlin noted that he'd made it to the right place. It looked the same way it did all those few months ago when Leon had been the one to save him from being locked away down there. When Markus and his two goons had been dragging him down there to face his punishment. That day he went ahead and tried to punch Arthur in the face for how much of an arsehole he was. Before the man had even known Merlin was the one he was about to marry…

The door suddenly swung open with a loud crash, knocking Merlin out of his thoughts. It was, luckily, not somebody else who wanted to stop him from getting to Gwen sometime today. But in some ways, Merlin almost would have wished it was. Morgana stood in front of him, blocking off the door and his entrance to the dungeons. The maiden seemed to be just as startled as he was by the presence of the other.

Merlin's heart went out to her, and he felt like his stomach was trying to lurch it's way out of his body. Before this moment, it didn't occur to Merlin that he had hurt more than just Tom and Gwen with his actions. He'd also brought pain into Morgana's life. The Lady clearly did not want him to see her-her delicate fist was tightly squeezing around a white neckerchief, soaking wet from her tears. She brought that cloth up to her face to hide from him, but he had already seen the black mascara running down her cheeks. She had been down there in the dungeons, probably telling Gwen good bye, thinking the handmaiden would be dying as soon as the execution was set up.

Merlin didn't stop her long enough to explain how Gwen wasn't going to be the one set up on the platform. She would probably find out soon enough anyway. That was why all he did was watch her run off, face buried deeply into her neckerchief, running up the stairs before her piercing sobs-unable to take the reality of their situation-could grow out of control.

Merlin only wished he would have had some more time with her. Morgana was a great girl, he could have seen her becoming one of his greatest friends around here. But sometimes, things in life just don't turn out the way you'd think they would. Merlin had learned the very difficult lesson several times in his life: just like the day it finally sunk into little seven year old him that his magic made him different. A kind of different that made him dangerous, a kind that could get him killed. He had learned the lesson again when he first heard he was going to be married off to Arthur. And there was countless reminders of the lesson going throughout his childhood up until now. It was probably better this way, Merlin decided as he turned and started down the wrought iron staircase leading into the dungeons. He'd be more likely to hurt Morgana the longer he had stuck around. Just like Gwen.

Merlin turned on his heel and strode through the dungeon door, and there really wasn't any going back after the heavy door harshly slammed shut behind him. He winched when the loud banging of the door made his ears go to ringing. But he got over that quite quick enough. There was nothing like walking to your own death with ringing in your ears. Past the dungeon door was hey, look at that, more steps! This castle seemed to be like one huge labyrinth half the time. Dozens and dozens of staircases going off in every which direction, and right when you think you have finally got the place figured out, boom! They throw one more section you haven't explored yet right at you.

This was the first time Merlin had ever been to the dungeons-he hadn't exactly made it to the door that time Arthur tried to have him be thrown down here-but it's damp and dark. No wonder they keep the prisoners down here in the cells, Merlin thought as he jumped down the stairs two at a time. The corridor was far on the narrow side of things, and the dirt was coming off on his fingers as he trailed one of his hands along the wall as he passed. It was definitely a place where one could feel some suffocation, the walls almost felt as if they'd close in on you in a snap. Merlin would 'not' want to have one of his panic attacks in such a place, not with the dampness and the cold and the 'kill me now' vibes of pure desolation the place reeked of. There were chains, long and thin manacles, hanging from the ceiling top. Merlin wasn't sure if they were supposed to be decorative, something else to scare the crap out of the people they would bring down here. Or if they were for a more sinister, dark purpose. Like punishing criminals by having them hang from the ceiling by their thumbs…he didn't even know if people did things like that anymore. Hanging them from their own thumbs until the muscle snapped and you'd just been left there for hours on end, crying out and screaming until somebody finally let you be put down.

There were two knights poised just outside of a second door-one that looked exactly like the first door-further down the hallway. The walls didn't even have stone, this far down in the basement level of the castle. It seemed to be nothing more than packed dirt, that some servants from who knows how long ago, had dug a tunnel through to create it. The knights didn't seem too pleased to see him, stuck up their noses like they thought his presence in the area was somehow inappropriate. Or they might just not like him, which wasn't an idea too far out there. But once he said he'd came here to see Gwen-they didn't even know her name, she was just a servant to them, so he had to call her 'the witch' while hoping Gwen would forgive him for it-they allowed him to go through the door that led to the cells. The men were even helpful with directions, saying she'd be in the last one.

But Merlin was pretty sure they were only so helpful because they were hoping Gwen was going to do something to him. If these people wanted to get rid of their Unwanted Consort so badly, then what would be easier than just sending him down into the dragon's nest, so to speak. They probably thought 'the witch' would take what she could get, and try to get rid of Merlin while she could. After he made a mistake by coming down there to begin with.

The guards didn't know that Gwen would be completely powerless. They didn't know they had just let in the real wonder, the one person who could blow this place up if he tried hard enough. Like this ticking time-bomb that was just waiting to go off at the right moment.

It was an even narrower corridor once Merlin got past the second door. And he was pretty sure it had dropped ten degrees from the one hall to the next, he shivered in with this deep discontentment. Even in his jacket, and that wasn't the thickest thing in the world, he felt the cold like an icy, stale embrace. Trying to forcibly welcome him into the cold, relief the death of him would be for others. He couldn't imagine how cold Gwen must be, shivering in her cell while wearing that threadbare dress of hers. It probably did nothing to shield her from the cold, and he wanted to be the one to use his magic to force the door of her cell open so that she could leave this hell like a free woman.

The cells were lined up one after another all down the hall, but they were small-he noted as he slowly walked down the hall, squinting to try and see through the dim lighting that was coming in through the barely even there windows at the top of each cell-so small that someone barely five feet would have trouble laying down comfortably. Clearly, these cells were not meant for a long term stay, where one was expected to sleep for weeks or even months on end.

Merlin was so concentrated on trying to find his way to Gwen, that he didn't notice what was happening at first. How his steps would grow slower with every second that passed him by. How a headache was starting to form behind his temples, hard and pounding into a throb. He was almost to the end of the hall as his steps were starting to drag, muscles in his shoulders as he pushed himself to continue walking instead of dropping to the floor for a bit of rest. One minute surely wouldn't have hurt anything, not with how…drained, he was suddenly. As if his energy had been sapped out of him…he felt his eyes starting to droop, what had he been down here before again?

He was sure, whatever it was that got him to come down to such a drab place, had to have been for a good reason. But the more that he tried to think on the reason why, the more his head throbbed with pain. Enough to make a man nauseous from how the pain intensified with each step he pushed himself to take.

And then he saw her. With her back towards him so she didn't seem him coming in from down the hall. "…Gwen…" his voice came out all raspy and ill, as if he'd caught his death in the cold. But while it was freezing down here in the cells, it wasn't so cold that he should have got so sick so quick.

Gwen must have heard him-even though he felt like the word had barely came out from a whisper-because her head whipped around to see him. And that's right, he vaguely tried to remember through the pounding going off in his head. He was here for Gwen…he came her to help her, because…he was the one that did this to her in the first place…right? He still felt kind of fuzzy on the details. He knew why he was here, but his mind was so muddled, it felt like he was swimming through quicksand and trying to force his answers through all of the muck. Which would explain his very slow reaction time, when his friend jumped up off the floor where she had been sitting in a very small pile of hay meant for a sleeping area.

"Merlin!" Gwen exclaimed, her face just lit up at the sight of him. As if she wasn't actually seeing her friend through the bars of her cell room. Gwen tried to cross to the room so she could meet Merlin at the bars, but she jolted back before she made it more than a foot to him. Merlin's eyes dropped to see what the problem was, and his eyes fell onto the large manacles surrounding her hands. They were not the normal chains that would go around a prisoner's wrists. They were larger and were wrapped around, encasing her entire hand in the metal. Clearly, they were trying to take on every precaution they could. But it obviously meant they didn't know much about magic. It could be channeled through the hands, and it was for most people most of the time.

But it was pointless, because people could channel their magic through the eyes just as easily. Or with a bit of practice, for the more common magic user. Merlin was an exception who found channeling his magic through his eyes to be as easy as breathing. He followed up the chains from Gwen's wrists till his eyes landed on the wall. They had chained Gwen to the wall. As if they thought she would walk right out of the dungeons if they didn't keep her chain like some kind of animal.

Merlin collapsed against the barred door of her cell, his arms going through to rest on the horizontal bar because he could barely keep himself on his feet. But his rage was the thing keeping him on his feet, having to breath with great force through his nose. Through all the exhausting pain and the spark of anger in the face of Gwen's imprisonment. He figured it'd been one thing to know that she was locked away in a cell. But it was quite another to see her being treated as if she were wild and was going to attack the first person who dared to approach her. Merlin was unprepared for the growing inferno inside of him, trying to force its way through his exhausted state.

The rage was probably the one thing keeping him on his feet.

Gwen was the first to get her bearings back, and she smiled at him sweetly, as if the chain holding her captive wasn't rattling with every motion she made, reminding them where she was and what she was being charged with to be down here in the first place. "Thank you," she said, and Merlin could only blink at her in a slow-it took serious effort to get his eyes to open back up-manner.

"…What for?" He choked out, not being able to understand what was going on. His brain must have really been in a fog, because he couldn't understand what Gwen was actually thanking him for. If he was Gwen, he would've been 'pissed' if the reason he was in jail came down for a visit. Oh…wait…she didn't know he was the reason she was down here. What…what was wrong with him? Why did it feel so fuzzy? If Merlin didn't know any better, then he could have sworn he'd been drugged. But that was just ridiculous, he hadn't ate a thing in hours…

Gwen's smile, through his foggy vision, was looking shaky. She was obviously trying to be strong, trying not to cry anymore due to her circumstances. Her cheeks were still stained from her earlier crying fest though, her eyes rimmed while struggling to hold back another round of crying. And her hair was frizzy, kinda poofing out of her ponytail, as if she'd been dragged across the floor before being thrown in her cell.

Good god, Merlin hoped Gwen hadn't been dragged across the floor before being thrown in her cell. His fingers clenched tightly onto the bars.

"For coming to see me." She said, looking as if she truly thought she'd been abandoned and was on her own. And fuck, Merlin's foggy mind managed to place, wasn't that a kick to the family jewels. It was bad enough to see Gwen in this predicament, and 'know' that it should be him. But then she goes and thanks him for putting her here?

…Merlin was going to pass out, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.