Remembering

Chapter 29

"Or what?" Merlin said, smiling humorously, the expression closer to a snarl than anything else, "Are you going to scream at me like your father did? Or maybe you'll throw me in the dungeons, like your sister did. All three of the Pendragon's, in a row. Aren't I the lucky one?"

"That's enough of this. You're both tired and things are starting to get very ugly," said Gwaine, again trying and failing to intervene, "Why don't we –"

"Don't," growled Arthur, "Do not lump me in with her. Now talk, Merlin. You're lying to me."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Arthur said, taking a step closer. There was a flash of something in Merlin's eyes, but he didn't back away. So, neither did Arthur. "You're lying. You're doing that eye twitching thing you do when you're lying. Why didn't you –"

"What do you want from me, Arthur? Do you want me to tell you about how they beat me and whipped me and hurt me but didn't want to know anything? That there was absolutely nothing I could do, or say to get them to stop? Do you want me to tell you how Morgause snapped my arm and hung me from a wall for two hours? No? How about when they left me alone down there for four days except to bring me water twice and let me know how long I'd been down there, how long I'd been stuck and forgotten about and doomed? And one of those two times it was just to toss the water in my face and tell me to lick it off of the floor? It was so dark when they'd leave with their torches that I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face, and the only sounds were the rats and the chains."

"Merlin –"

"Do you want me to tell you about how I begged and pleaded your sister to kill me and end it all? I did. I did, and she didn't, and I hated her for that, hated her for that more than any of the other things she's done. I tried to call Kilgarrah, Arthur, but it didn't work, not in the dungeon. It didn't work because those chains kept my magic and everything to do with my magic in until I felt like I was going to burst into flames, until I hoped that I would. I don't know what happened with the bounty hunter. They've taken everything away from me, and all I have left is my magic which, in case you were wondering, still is refusing to work for me. I'm scared of the dark. Quiet makes me want to bash my head against a wall and scream until it isn't quiet ever again. I barely feel like me anymore, Arthur. Do you think I wanted any of this? Do you think that I let them do all of that to me? Is that what you want me to say? Is it?"

"Merlin," Arthur said, and stopped, at a loss. "Merlin – "

"Don't," Merlin said, pushing past him to walk away.

"Wait," said Arthur, starting after him.

"I said don't," Merlin said, not raising his voice, not shouting. He yanked open the door and, disappearing within the room, slammed it shut behind him again.

"What the hell, Arthur?" Gwaine growled after a long, tense, silent moment, "I – you – he – what the hell?"

"I didn't mean for any of that to happen," said Arthur, "I didn't."

"Story of your life as of late," said Gwaine.

Arthur moved towards the closed door. "I'll go and talk to him."

"Do what he wants, Arthur, for once in your life," said Gwaine, pulling him away and walking forward, "Leave him alone."

Then Gwaine, like Merlin before him, walked through the door. But, before he pulled it shut, the knight gave Arthur a look that almost sent the prince stumbling backwards. "I want you to know," he said, "That I'm quite angry with you now."

Then he shut the door forcefully, leaving Arthur alone in the hall with nothing but the echoes.

Arthur spent the next handful of days avoiding Merlin as much as possible. It was easy, at first. But then Gaius went and ruined it, declaring Merlin fit to return to some of his duties, at least the ones that didn't require too much strenuous activity. He still tired easily, still had one arm strapped down in the sling. When Arthur saw him, he was always accompanied by one of the knights or two or more servants. Arthur didn't approach, and stayed away. It wasn't due to Merlin's wishes, but rather from the unpleasant sort of crawling that filled Arthur's stomach every time he laid eyes on Merlin.