Sleeves

Chapter 5

Arthur and his knights were leaning against the walls of their cell, all feeling decidedly groggy. There was a constant dripping as water seeped through the ceiling and trickled down the stone walls into ever-growing puddles on the floor. However, this had not prevented them from noting the absence of a certain raven-haired servant. It was Gwaine who noticed it first and he promptly started screaming every profanity ever invented and then some.

'What on God's earth have you motherfuckers done with my fucking friend, you cursed bastards? I swear to God almighty, if you've so much as touched a single hair on his head, I will crucify you and remove your organs in alphabetical order, you sons of bitches!'

'Gwaine, calm down,' hissed Elyan.

'I WILL NOT "CALM DOWN" ELYAN!' shrieked Gwaine, and proceeded with his slew of expletives.

Percival, who noticed Arthur hissing at one of the guards on watch at the gate of the cell, kicked Gwaine very hard in the ribs and nodded towards Arthur. Gwaine's shouts subsided, intrigued by what the King was doing. The guard seemed perturbed by what Arthur was saying, so much so that after a few minutes of hushed but definitely harsh words, the guard in question whispered something in his comrade's ear and then hurried of down a corridor.

'What did you say to him?' enquired Lancelot quietly.

'I sent him to tell whoever is in charge that I want to see Merlin and that I want to see him now.'

'Do you think that'll actually happen?' asked the ever practical Leon.

'It's worth a shot, isn't it?' Arthur replied.

At that, all the knights slumped defeatedly and fell into an uneasy silence. They were all trying to come up with an escape plan. They all wanted to be the hero that thought up the way to rescue their friend and escape with all of their lives, taking down yet another enemy in the process. They were all knights after all and thus chased this romantic and unrealistic expectation that came with the job. But none of them could break the iron chains or the iron bars that constrained them, and even if they could, they had no idea where they were, both geographically and in relation to Merlin. Every thought they came up with felt futile. And so, they just sat in the seemingly endless silence, waiting in the hope that their beloved King's attempt would prove fruitful.

It was some time later when the guard Arthur had sent returned. No one knew quite how long it had been. There was no way of knowing how time passed in these dark tunnels. All the prisoners turned towards to guard, unable to hide the hope in their eyes. The guard looked around them, smirking,

'The Lady Morgana will see you now. She will reunite you with your little friend if it isn't already too late,' he added wickedly, clearly enjoying the fear that spread across the faces of Camelot's bravest at the mention of his mistress' name.

With that, the door to the cell was unlocked and the chains which bound the knights locked together. Then, with guards surrounding the six men of Camelot, a slow progression through the dark, weaving tunnels began, guided by the light of a single torch at the front of the party.

'Morgana really spared no expense with this place,' Gwaine muttered sarcastically, earning him a severe kick in the shins.

Eventually, after what felt like miles of labyrinthic passages, they came to a heavy wooden door, before which the six knights were lined up. Then the guard whom Arthur had sent (he was clearly the leader of the thugs) unbolted the doors, allowing them to swing open and reveal the horrors of their worst possible nightmares.

Morgana was sitting at the far end of the room on what she clearly thought of as her throne. The chair itself looked as though it had been modelled on the royal throne at Camelot – the witch really made no attempt at hiding her true desires. Except the knights didn't notice these finer details. They were too fixed on the sight in the middle of the room. 

A man was kneeling on the ground with his back to the door and his face almost touching the ground. Bright red blood was trickling down his back and pooling on the floor from lacerations clearly made by the whip in the hand of one of several thugs standing near him. But under the blood were bruises and half-healed wounds on top of a plethora of scars. There was scar on top of scar on top of scar. Some looked like they were from swords, others from maces, others still from fire. There was one in the centre of his back which had blackened the surrounding blood vessels. It was this one in particular that caught the attention of the Knights. It was, unmistakably, the sting of a serket and yet this man was still very clearly alive. They could see his ribs, which were uncomfortably pronounced, expanding and contracting with every breath he took. The sight of this man, who had been so brutally mistreated, made all six men in chains sick to their very core.

It was Arthur who managed to tear his eyes from this most horrific sight first to meet his half-sister's icy gaze.

'Where is Merlin?' he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral and his voice steady.

For some reason that Arthur couldn't work out, the broken man's body tightened as soon as the King started speaking.

Morgana smirked maliciously.

'Why brother dearest,' she said, in a sweet but chillingly evil tone, 'do you not recognise this man? Perhaps we should turn him around to show you his face.'

With that she motioned to her thugs to do just that. They kicked the man on the floor before lifting him by his armpits and spun him around to face the knights.

Arthur inhaled, preparing to repeat his question. And then he saw the face. And his world ended. The worlds of the six bravest men in Camelot ended in that moment. Because in that moment they saw Merlin.