A/N - I'm so so so sorry everyone for the long wait and I thank you all for being patient! Here's the new chapter but I'm sorry to say that, again, the next chapter is not going to come out for at least another month. I have finals right now and almost immediately after my exams are finished I'm heading out on vacation.
I'm sorry that there's been so many long gaps between chapters lately. I'll try and update as soon as I can once I get home.
Regardless thank you all for reading this story and I hope you enjoy!
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The candle does little to chase away the darkness that surrounds the pair as they make their way deeper through the hall. Arthur walks in front, his hand resting against the hilt of his sword as his step quickens with each second. He's so close. So close to finding Merlin. It's been years and now, finally, he'll meet him. He'll be able to hug him, kiss him, and keep him at his side forever.
"My lord," Mary calls, coming up behind him with the candle in her hand, "I hope you realize I don't have the key to the boy's cell. Only your father has that."
Arthur frowns but continues forward, not about to let some stupid key stop him from getting Merlin out. "I'll find some other way in. I'm getting him out tonight."
Mary smiles at his back before walking up ahead of him. She holds the candle up and leads him further in, not stopping until they reach the end of the hall where an iron door stretches up in front of them.
Arthur can feel his knees go weak as the door appears before him. There's a sudden rush of emotion all through his body because this is it. This is where it all ends. Here is everything that he stands for and everything that his father doesn't. His fingers twitch beside him, itching to tear down that door and let free all those things that his father has kept locked away. All the secrets and atrocities that the king has hidden from everyone.
He dashes forward, grabbing the handle and jiggling it a few times before knocking loudly against the door. He pounds on the metal with the same rhythm of his heart till he isn't sure anymore whether the loud thump thump thump he hears is the pumping of his blood or his fist against the door. Mary tries to pry him off, telling him to cool his head and think before trying to tear down the cell with his hands. He ignores her, wanting nothing more than to break through into the room where Merlin is so he can finally wrap his arms around the idiot.
The only thing that stops him from his frenzy is the sound of a familiar voice on the other side. "Who are you?"
Arthur shivers at the words, feeling as though a cold dagger is being dragged across his neck. There's an unmistakable killing intent emanating from behind the door. A rush of power and danger that makes all his instincts tell him that this is a fight he'll never win.
Pushing down the fear inside Arthur leans in close to the door and replies, "It's me. It's Arthur. You don't have to worry I won't let anything happen to you."
Suddenly that cold aura disappears, bring replaced with the sound of footsteps on the other side as Merlin rushes over. "Arthur? Arthur!" He calls, voice now filled with relief as he knocks against the door as well. The sound is frantic, as though he too is trying to tear down the door one bit at a time. "You... you're really here?"
"Of course I am. I promised you didn't I?"
The knocking slowly stops, being replaced with the sound of a sigh and a chuckle as Merlin appears to calm down. "Thank you," he whispers quietly, "thank you so much."
Arthur smiles, placing a hand on the door as he rests his forehead against the cold iron. "I'd do anything for you. Now come on, let's get you out."
Arthur moves away from the door, inspecting the hinges when the sound of footsteps disrupts him. Of numerous footsteps.
The prince stiffens, turning to look down the hall only to see a faint light at the end. One that hadn't been there before. It seems ominous. Like a messenger arriving from the depths of the underworld.
Mary looks to the prince with worry, apparently fearing the same thing he does as Arthur quickly turns to the door. He kicks as hard as he can near the handle, hoping to break through with brute strength alone but to no avail. The door remains shut. He looks again down the hall, finding the light growing in size as the footsteps become louder and louder. He tries to kick again, praying to whatever being is out there that the door will just give in but still it remains closed. There's no way he can break through an iron door. There's just no way.
"Arthur?" Merlin calls, voice filled with concern. "What's going on? Is-"
"Restrain him."
Guards appear from the hall, grabbing the prince and his caretaker by the shoulders as the king strides forward. His expression is set into a snarl as he walks up to his son. The betrayal in his father's eyes almost makes Arthur regret what he's done, but only almost, because behind that look of disappointment is something else. Something like shame and disgust for what he's done.
Arthur struggles in the guards grasp before the man forces him down on his knees, making him look up towards the king as the man stands over him. "I expected more from you," he says, voice cold, the minimal emotion he ever showed gone.
"And I expected more from you as a father," Arthur says with a growl, "I suppose we're both disappointed."
The king's eyes suddenly darken at the words, his fingers seem to twitch beside him, curling into a fist when there's a loud knock from the iron door. "Arthur?" Merlin calls, and the voice makes both the royals freeze in place. "Is everything alright?"
Uther turns his attention now to the door, his eyes revealing nothing as he pulls a key from his belt. A guard beside him hands him a pair of manacles before Uther turns the key into the lock and opens the door.
"No!" Arthur shouts, struggling against the guards that hold him but even he isn't strong enough to take down three knights all by himself, "father please! He's done nothing wrong!"
The king ignores him as the door swings open and finally, at last, Arthur's able to get a proper look at his friend. He sees dark hair and tattered clothes. A distinct red neckerchief. Then bright blue eyes meet his and suddenly the world feels perfect. Like there was nothing wrong. Like everything was alright because all he needed is right here in front of him. But, almost as quickly as it had started, the moment is broken by Uther reaching out and grabbing Merlin by his hair. The boy cries out in pain as Uther throws him roughly into the hall, forcing him down on the ground as he locks the manacles on his wrists.
"Merlin..." Arthur says, the words barely above a whisper as the king yanks the boy to his knees in front of him.
Merlin looks to him in terror, eyes frantic as he tries to escape the king's grasp but that only earns him a kick to the stomach. Merlin coughs, doubling over in pain only to have Uther grab him by his hair again and yank him upright. The warlock's eyes glow a faint gold, the colour appearing for only a brief moment before they flicker out into nothingness.
"Now," Uther says, taking the sword from Arthur's belt and holding the hilt out towards his son, "I'll give you one last chance," he says, "Kill him and we'll say that this never happened."
Arthur turns his gaze from the hilt of the sword to Merlin. The boy's eyes are red, the tears prickling at the corners as his eyes remain fixed on the blade in front of him. He doesn't seem to register much of what Uther had demanded but the mere sight of the sword has frozen him in his tracks. There's an untold fear in his eyes, a fear that Arthur has only seen a few times from the old knights still working under his father. It's a fear for what has happened and for what may yet happen again.
Arthur turns his gaze to his father, seeing the man's eyes narrowed in his direction. There's a chilling authority in his stare. A sense of superiority as he stands before the prince with the sword in hand and the warlock in the other. Without uttering another word the prince knows what his father expects. Knows all the thoughts he has in his head. His father wants him to take up the blade, to kill his friend, and to follow him in his footsteps. The king wants him to forsake his morals, his obligations, and everything he holds dear just to appease him. Just so he can continue to spread his hatred around the kingdom.
The guards beside him loosen their grip, allowing him to get to his feet but still they keep a close eye on him, making sure that he doesn't try anything. Arthur looks down at the blade then once more to his friend who still is petrified with fear. The prince reaches out, grasping the handle offered to him and from the corner of his eye he can catch a small smirk spread across his father's face. He lifts the sword up, watching with sadness as Merlin's eyes trail after the sword, following it as though caught in a trance, a nightmare where the only way out is the tip of the blade. He wonders about the thoughts that must be cycling through the boy's mind. Was he thinking about his fellow kin? His village and family? The outside world?
"Kill him. He means nothing to you," Uther says, pushing the boy forward.
Arthur turns his gaze onto the king, tightening the grip on his sword then swings. Before the blade is able to make contact Uther catches his wrist, managing to wrestle him against the wall before he sighs with disappointment. "I'm ashamed of you Arthur," the king says, "I expected more from you." There's a quick order and soon enough the guards grab him again, except this time they drag him down the hall, down towards the cells.
He can still see his father standing before the warlock, sword now in his hand as he towers over the boy. He sees the man's lips move, as though uttering a threat, before the darkness of the hall obscures the scene from view and he's left in the shadows.
-----
Arthur paces back and forth along the length of his cell, wondering what his father is planning. He had been so close. So close. Merlin was in front of him. Was within arms reach but still he had failed. He had let him down in far more ways than one. If only he had been faster, or had realized that it was Mary sooner. If he had just been a little faster Merlin could be with him now. Outside in the forests around Camelot. Now, he has no clue how Merlin is and is locked inside a cell himself.
The prince sighs, slumping back against the wall and sliding down until he touches the ground. He stares up, seeing a faint light filter through the grate above him. So this was how Merlin had seen him. This was how Merlin had lived everyday for years. How had he been able to survive for so long without going insane? Without having lost his mind to the demons in the shadows? He's only been down here for a few hours and already he finds himself itching to get out. To kick at the bars until he's out and able to run again freely. He feels so trapped in here. So alone.
Arthur wonders where Merlin is now. Is he hurt somewhere? Cowering in fear of the king? Or has he already been killed, left for dead somewhere in the darkness? Arthur drums his fingers against his knees, agitated that he no longer knows where Merlin is. He shouldn't have said those words to his father. He should have held his tongue until he had managed to get Merlin out safe and sound. Now who knows what's happening to him. Anything that does is all his fault.
"Arthur," a voice calls, making the prince look up to find his father standing in front of him, the man must have entered while he wasn't paying attention. There are guards flanking the man's sides and judging from the Kings stare he isn't here to let him go. "I hope you've had time to think about your actions."
The prince turns away, not willing to look at the man in the eyes. "I have thought about it," he says, "And I still think what you have done is wrong."
Uther clenches his teeth, walking closer as he leans over his son. "Has that boy cast a spell on you? What has he done to have you go against your king, your own father?"
"He never did anything because you wouldn't let him. He had no freedom. No rights. He may be a warlock but he's still a person," Arthur snaps through gritted teeth.
Uther growls low in his throat, the sound menacing like a predator waiting to jump it's prey. There's a burning fire in his eyes. A look that shows he isn't used to such defiance in his subjects. "I will teach you the ways of this world. I'll show you the cruelties that warlocks and sorcerers have brought upon this kingdom. And until you're able to put a blade to that boy's throat you will remain here. Is that understood?"
The prince says nothing. He keeps silent and instead glares at the man he used to call his father.
The king snarls then turns away, waving to the guards to open the door as he leaves the boy alone.
-----
"Arthur?" a girl calls quietly, making the prince jolt awake suddenly. Arthur looks up to see Gwen standing in front of his cell door, a plate of bread, cheese, and a cup of water in her hands. "I managed to sneak you some breakfast," she says while passing the food through the bars as best she can.
Before Arthur can even thank her she smiles and leaves. Leaving him alone with a questioning look. He glances down at the plate of food, feeling guilty that his meal appears much nicer than Merlin's ever was as he shuffles over. He picks up the bread, finding a note underneath. He picks it up, unfolding the parchment and is about to take a large bite of his food when he catches something poking out from the bread. He rips the piece apart only to find three keys inside. One for his door and the other two... He glances down at the note, recognizing the writing from Morgana.
These are the keys to your cell and Merlin's. Get him out.
Arthur smiles to himself, not even questioning how Morgana could have gotten those keys. He quickly gets up and looks through the bars for the guards that patrol the halls. When he finds none he quickly opens the door of his cell, sneaking out and rushing to where he remembers seeing Mary open the door to Merlin's cell.
The prince bursts down the hall as fast as he can, rushing down through the darkness until he reaches the door at the end of the hall once again. He skids to a halt, breathing heavily as he stares at the iron door in front of him. Quickly, before anyone can stop him again, he puts the key into the lock, turning it until he hears the click that sends his heart pounding in his chest. He pushes open the door, rushing in only to find... no one. Nobody's there.
Arthur stops in the middle of the room, out of breath as he looks around the cell. He's not here. Merlin isn't here.
The prince drops down to his knees, cursing himself under his breath for not having gotten to him sooner. For not having grabbed the key before coming down here the first time. For not having used his stupid head to figure out that Mary knew where Merlin was.
He looks up, finding the grate shedding light down into the room from up above. He recognizes the room, even from down here. How could he not after all? He's spent almost everyday in there, talking, laughing, enjoying himself.
He glances around the room, noticing the little world that Merlin appears to have built down in this cold room. There's piles upon piles of books scattered about. All of which he had brought down for Merlin over the years. There's the first one he had brought. The one about magic. And then one about fish anatomy, mythical creatures, unicorns, and more magic. Then there's all the plants he had brought down. The yellow rose, the tulips, the lilies, all still alive. Somehow, Merlin must have kept them growing with his magic, but now that the warlock isn't here he finds them starting to wither. Starting to shrivel away and die. As Arthur looks around further he finds a pile of cushions by one of the corners. It must have been the bed Merlin made.
Arthur walks over, staring down at everything scattered around the makeshift bed before spotting another flower underneath the pillow. He picks it up, seeing one of the petals fall as he holds it up in front of him. His heart flutters painfully in his chest, feeling excited yet hurt at the sight of the red chrysanthemum slowly dying in his hands.
He tucks the plant carefully in his pocket before turning to go. Deciding to return to his cell before any of the guards, or worst of all his father, finds out when something flutters into the room.
Arthur smiles, holding out his palm as the blue butterfly drifts down and lands in his hands.