Disclaimer: Not BBC, Johnny Capps, Julian Murphy. As I promised: one long emotional magic reveal ahead!
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Chapter 5
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Merlin woke up to the dripping cold raindrop against his cheeks.
Jolting, he straightened up and immediately regretted it as he grunted to the searing pain on his right foot. He was lying on a stone floor with his legs bent at a very uncomfortable angle. Next to him was a wall and directly above him was a barred opening.
He twisted his body to take a look at the source of his pain, hurting some part of his body as it looked like he had been badly bruised all over his person, and gasped weakly as he saw how his ankle was now bending at an awkward angle. He was reaching to feel it when he heard a rustle on the other side of the cavity he was in.
"Hello?" he called out. His voice almost didn't make an echo, making him think that he was being trapped in some sort of a small space.
It was too dark for Merlin to distinguish any shape. The moon should be at its full form tonight, if they hadn't passed out for more than a day, but the rain had obscured most of its light. His eyes hadn't gotten used to the darkness yet, so he had to squint his eyes and brought out his arms to feel his surroundings.
"Arthur?" he asked, unsure.
There was a moment of pause and a low grunt before he heard a reply a few feet from him, "Merlin, are you alright?"
Merlin let out a relieved sigh. At least they were together. That was good, Arthur was safe. "I think I broke my ankle, but I'm fine. Are you hurt?"
Merlin felt the smooth walls behind him and tried to get up on his good foot, only to slide down again, hurting his broken ankle in the process. He winced loudly. He didn't know broken ankles could hurt this bad, for a damage on such a small part of one's body; he couldn't even move. No wonder Arthur was impossibly firm on emphasizing the importance of a good footing during his trainings.
His eyes began to get used to the darkness. They were in some kind of a well, almost a perfect square in shape, but its stone walls were too smooth to scale. The cavity looked like a dungeon with no escape, aside from the opening above their heads. Its four walls were also wide enough that it was impossible to climb them by using pressure on the two opposite walls with their legs. Not that either of it was possible because it was drizzling out there– there was nothing that could purchase a hold on the wet stones. And even if they could climb it to the top, the opening was still barred with what looked like considerably thick iron bars.
"Dislocated shoulder– can you fix it?" Arthur groaned from the other side of the well.
"Wait a minute," he grunted, trying to move. Arthur dislocated his shoulder often enough during his trainings and it always fell on Merlin to pop the bone back to its socket, so he could do it easily. They would need Arthur to be fully physically functional if they wanted to get out of this well alive. If only he could move to where Arthur was to do it.
"No, you stay there," Arthur suddenly interrupted. Merlin looked up to see the blonde's figure moving towards him before sitting with his back on him, his free arm cradling the one from his dislocated shoulder. "Alright, fix it."
"It's going to hurt a bit, alright," he warned, launching into his usual speech and prompting the blonde to sigh.
"Just get it over with."
Pursing his lips, Merlin felt for Arthur's shoulder and upper arm. They might have embarked on the most insane of quests, but fixing Arthur's dislocated shoulder in near total darkness was yet another new thing for them. Merlin began counting. "One."
He snapped Arthur's shoulder back to place and the latter cried in pain. The resonance gave Merlin a slight sense of the room's volume.
"Is it back?" Merlin asked.
Arthur was panting, pained. "Yeah." He then got up, trying his shoulder as he did so. "Can you stand?"
Merlin wasn't sure. "Uhm, I guess," he answered in something that sounded more like a question.
The drizzle hadn't stopped since, the walls were ever more slippery now, and when Merlin tried to stand using his good foot and the wall behind him, he did but slid down the wall again. As he fell on his backside and heard a slight splash, raindrops seeped into his pants as a realization dawned on him. The cavity they were in was closed, the raindrops hadn't gotten anywhere. There was no drainage, no soil, no opening that led straight to the ground– nothing. If the rain didn't stop, sooner or later they would drown.
Merlin grunted, wincing loudly as he hurt his broken ankle even more. He then felt Arthur's two hands on his upper arms, supporting him.
"Whoa– slowly, slowly," Arthur said gently. Accepting the help, Merlin reached out to hold on Arthur's arms as he pulled himself up. They both winced– Merlin from trying to get up on his broken ankle and Arthur on pulling Merlin up on his wounded shoulder.
"Alright?" Arthur asked, sounding just a few inches from Merlin, his hands still holding on Merlin's upper arms in case he toppled back down.
"Yes," the brunet breathed. His wince dissipated as he shifted his weight on his good foot and leaned on the wall behind him. Arthur then let go of him and began pacing the entire space, trying to find a way out.
Merlin didn't understand, though. He and Arthur were supposed to travel back to Camelot with the other knights after a diplomatic meeting in Mercia before they got ambushed and the two of them got separated from the rest of the party. They were outnumbered one to five, and they had no choice but to flee. They barely got out of the fight alive and the sight of Arthur in agony of having to leave his comrades behind pained Merlin. They rode all night blindly to a direction they didn't even know, and from there it was just him and Arthur trying to find their way back to Camelot. When they got captured as they crossed the river that marked the border between Camelot and Assetir, it was impossible to think of a scenario that they were intercepted. They didn't know where they were going themselves– to think that someone knew they would be there was incredulous.
And yet the fact that they got captured and were thrown into a well-fashioned dungeon with thick iron bars on top of it suggested that this was no amateur work. This was not a work of a band of renegades or a bandit party who took people for their gold.
"Arthur, we have to get out of here," Merlin said, although more to himself than to anyone.
Arthur had been circling the well for numerous times, running his palms all over every reachable surface of the walls and swinging his sword at the iron bars above, before he stopped and sighed dramatically, as though terribly annoyed by the brunet's question.
"Well explained, Merlin. I have no intention of sitting here all night either," the blonde replied sarcastically before kicking the stone wall. "It's no use! The walls are too wide apart to scale."
They were silent for a moment, the sound of the rain the only thing audible. Merlin looked up to see the cloud had moved slightly, allowing a portion of moonlight to fall on them. With his eyes already gotten used to the darkness, he could see how the right abdomen side of Arthur's chainmail was ripped, revealing his tattered vest underneath, and there was a large ugly bruise on his right cheek. Something twisted in a small on his gut at the sight of Arthur hurt, at the fact that the blonde remained stoic when Merlin knew he was badly wounded. He had promised not to let Arthur got hurt again, he promised.
Merlin shook his head, trying to focus. The raindrops had pooled and reached their ankle. Merlin tried not to notice how the coldness stung at his broken ankle.
"What do we do?" the brunet asked tentatively.
Arthur continued to be silent before answering at last, sheathing his sword. "There's only one way."
"What?"
Arthur turned to look at him, his face an unreadable expression between pain and authority. "It'll hurt."
"When does it not when it comes to you?" Merlin muttered under his breath. Whether the blonde heard or chose to ignore his comment Merlin didn't know, but Arthur approached him.
"I'm going to lift you. Check if the bars are hacked," he said.
Well, not a good decision for his broken ankle, but they had no other option.
"Alright," Merlin said, nodding. When he looked at Arthur, the latter was looking into his eyes, and Merlin knew instantly Arthur didn't want to hurt him either. Blue bore into blue before Arthur lowered down to gather Merlin in his arms at the knees. He heard Arthur winced as his shoulder complained, and Merlin bit back a loud gasp as the pain from his leg shot up.
When Arthur had rose to his full height, Merlin still couldn't get a full grip on the iron bars, but it was enough to tell him that the iron bars wouldn't be going anywhere even if he combined his strength with Arthur's to move it.
"How hard are the bars?" Arthur shouted from below him.
"It won't budge!" Merlin replied.
Arthur then lowered him to the ground carefully so as to not hurt his broken ankle even more, before pounding at the wall with his good arm in anger.
"Oh bother, who did this? Hey! We're drowning in here!" Arthur shouted, his voice echoing around the small cavity.
"Arthur–" Merlin began, but the blonde wouldn't stop shouting.
"Why bother capturing us alive if you're just going to drown us?!"
"Arthur, stop it–" Merlin interrupted as he that the water had come up to their calves. The walls of the well they were in were wide enough apart that even Arthur knew they couldn't scale it up by using pressure on the opposite walls– it was simply unnatural that the pooling raindrops had come up from their ankles to their calves in such a short period of time.
Merlin dipped his fingertips on the pooling water and closed his eyes. When the raindrops had fallen on his face and his whole person, he hadn't been able to feel it, but now that it had pooled down around his feet, he could finally feel it.
The accumulating amount of magic.
"I am the Crown Prince of Camelot, you will have the whole Camelot to answer to if something happens to me!"
His eyes shot open.
"Arthur, don't shout–! It's Morgana!" Merlin shushed him.
Arthur looked like he was about to shout again before he turned to Merlin, perplexed. "What?"
"It's Morgana. It makes sense!" Merlin said, mentally hitting his forehead. Of course it made sense– why didn't he think of it sooner? There was only one possibility to explain someone knowing how the two of them would be there in that particular time and place even without them knowing themselves.
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.
"She's a High Priestess of the Old Religion," Merlin explained, "we don't even know where we were going but she managed to capture us, because she knew where we would be. She's a Seer."
Arthur looked like he was about to buy Merlin's explanation before he shook his head.
"No, if this is Morgana's doing, we'd already be dead," he muttered, already turning back to inspecting the walls.
The drizzle thickened to a rain. Both of them was already soaking wet, the chilly night air hadn't helped, and Merlin was running out of ideas of how to show Arthur this was the High Priestess's doing that didn't involve telling that impossible prat that he was able to sense magic from the pooling raindrops.
"Who else know where we were, then?" Merlin questioned back.
"This is just a renegade's doing," Arthur replied. "They saw us crossing the river, they took their chance."
"And trap us in a fancy barred well?" Merlin challenged, but Arthur already ignored him.
"We have to get them to get us out," Arthur said, before he continued shouting. "Hey, answer me! You swine– answer me!"
Merlin flinched– it was rather disconcerting to see Arthur using offensive language.
"Arthur..." Merlin began.
"Come on, answer me!" Arthur yelled, his voice echoing around the space around them and pressed on Merlin's eardrums. "Or are you all filthy cowards?"
Merlin gasped in panic as he lowered his eyes and found out the pooling water had already come up to their knees. It was simply unnatural. Arthur might refuse to see how it all suggested of magic, but it still remained that it all could only be fought by magic too. They had proved it themselves that they couldn't get out of the well by themselves. So the other alternatives would be letting Arthur shout with all his might to get those non-existent renegades to free them or he could get Arthur's attention and coaxed him into–
Merlin's heart pounded faster and almost burst out. He realized there really was no other way than to use magic to get them out of there alive before they drowned.
"Arthur–"
His name suddenly tasted strange on his mouth. Fear glued on his tongue and constricted his windpipe. The fact that he had no other option than to use magic in front of Arthur was playing on loop in his head, dizzying him. Suddenly, all the pain from the wounds on his person and his blasted broken ankle was nothing compared to the pain of losing Arthur. Losing his faith, losing his friendship. The pain of having to look Arthur in the eye and found his blue eyes shone with the deepest hatred towards the brunet, with betrayal, with disgust. Arthur would probably run his sword through his being immediately after he found out Merlin had magic, but Merlin knew the sword wouldn't inflict as much pain as the betrayal in Arthur's eyes that would be the last thing he would ever see.
"Blasted walls!" Arthur swore, kicking the wall opposite him.
He had no choice, he had no choice. It was impressive that his heart still managed to pound even faster. He was frantically trying to get a hold on the slippery wall behind him with his trembling fingers. Inhaling a shaky breath, Merlin mustered all of his strength to will his voice not to shake as called out to Arthur once more.
"Arthur!"
Arthur turned back at him, annoyed. "What is it?!"
Merlin flinched and actually expelled a tear from his eyes– it was fortunate that raindrops kept pelting against their bodies, masking his tears.
"I will get us out of here, I promise," Merlin said, his voice sounding strange as he willed himself not to cry.
Arthur actually rolled his eyes and turned his back on him. "I really appreciate your faith, Merlin, but right now is not the time."
He really wasn't making it easier for Merlin, was he? Merlin was growing desperate.
Shutting his eyes and grinding his teeth, Merlin exclaimed in despair, "Arthur, look at me!"
Arthur must've noticed the drastic change in Merlin's intonation, because he turned back, his eyes softening. He genuinely looked confused now, if not concerned about Merlin. "What?"
Merlin took a large gulp of air, swallowing back a sob that was building on the back of his throat. The pooling freezing water had come up to their upper thighs now, but Merlin barely noticed his broken ankle anymore. He steeled his nerves with a thought– he would die either way. If he refused to use magic to get them out, there was every chance both of them drowning in the pooling water. But if he used magic– Arthur might despise him, loathe him, send him into exile, or even kill him there and then, but Arthur would live.
There was no question which option Merlin would go for, no matter how painful. He had promised, he had promised.
"Arthur," Merlin began, gulping and stammering. "I–I can get us out of here alive. B-but– but you have to promise you won't– you won't see me in a different light–"
If Arthur was unsure of Merlin's internal conflict, Merlin knew he was sure of it now. He could barely maintain a steady voice. The blonde was approaching him slowly, gently, as though he was a scared wounded animal, his right hand a little bit outstretched.
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked gently.
Why wasn't Arthur making it easier for Merlin? He knew that pompous prat would turn to loathe him any second now, he really didn't need this sudden display of care to remind him what he really would lose once Arthur found out he had magic. It would be far easier if Arthur could just start regarding him coldly and not remind Merlin how Arthur's eyes would always soften every time the latter sensed the brunet's troubled mind, and how he truly, in his heart, cared for Merlin's well-being even though he was just a servant. He would lose all of it.
Merlin was shaking. He was scared.
"Just promise me!" Merlin exclaimed shakily, panic taking control of him.
Arthur must've beginning to put the pieces together. He stopped in his track, no longer approaching the brunet. Merlin noticed how his hand fell limp to his side, splashing the water that had come up to their waist.
"What do you mean, Merlin?" Arthur asked.
Looking down, Merlin inhaled a deep breath and found his voice.
"Arthur, what you are about to witness will shake you," he said, "but you know I will never hurt you, I will never harm you. It is my destiny to be by your side, protecting you."
He exhaled. This was it. Arthur could hate him or kill him, but he would do everything to keep him safe. When he looked up, Arthur looked like he had, deep down, come to the conclusion Merlin was trying to tell him, but refused to believe so. It pained Merlin more than anything.
"Merlin?" the blonde breathed out, his voice almost got completely swallowed by the rain that was now turning into a storm. The well was filling up faster than ever.
Merlin brought out his right hand towards the iron bars above them and yelled, "Tospringe!" [1]
The hinges around iron bars exploded and the entire door shot up from the sheer force of Merlin's magic, sending pieces of broken irons and stones falling around them. There was a distant low thud as the iron door fell somewhere far, followed by the most deafening silence Merlin had ever endured.
The sound of the storming rain around them faded out as the silence and the cold stare from Arthur's eyes pressed all around him, suffocating him. He couldn't move, didn't know how to move. The few feet distance between them felt so far and so near at the same time, and Merlin didn't know whether to run to him and tell him the whole truth–of the true purpose of his magic, of their intertwined destinies, of uniting Albion together, and of how Merlin never once ceased to regard Arthur as less than a friend even though he persecuted his kind– or to run from him and the painful look of betrayal in his eyes. Every memory–every laughter, every fight, every battles they've fought together side by side, protecting each other with their lives, Arthur's every boyish barking laugh, every single one of his own smiles– flashed before his eyes before winking out like a candle that had burned itself out.
He inhaled a shaky breath and closed his eyes, expelling teardrops, not even hiding his emotions anymore.
"You're a sorcerer," Arthur breathed out, but it filled his eardrums and pounded from the inside of his skull. A painful accusation, a final sentence to the end of their friendship. He stepped back away from the young warlock slowly, his movement creating an ebbing wave that seemed to crash at Merlin's lanky figure.
But Merlin steeled himself. He was not finished yet, he had to get Arthur out of there.
He honestly just realized of that one little detail. Having to tell Arthur of his magic had consumed all of his thought that this little detail had become nothing in the face of the daunting fact that he had to reveal himself.
"Arthur, we have to get out of here, we're drowning–" Merlin started, but Arthur wasn't listening. .
"You're a sorcerer–" Arthur panted, his breath heavy. "How could you–"
Merlin was desperate. He needed to get Arthur out, but it was looking more and more impossible to get Arthur to think clear by the seconds. "I'm so sorry, Arthur, I really am, but I can't tell you–"
"You practice magic–" the young prince hissed.
Merlin flinched at the Prince's accusation, although it was nothing but the truth. "I never practice evil sorcery, Arthur, all of it I've done to protect you–" Merlin begged, prompting the blonde to look at him and narrow his eyes.
"You've done this before?" Arthur cut, throwing the warlock off-guard.
"I– yes, but–"
Merlin saw how Arthur waded his way away from him, the ebbing water crashing against him sending thousands of invisible knives through his being. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Merlin. "Get away from me!"
Merlin shut his eyes and let his teardrops fall before he brought up his hands to his eyes, willing himself to concentrate. His lungs were collapsing under the weight of the pain in his heart, and he felt like his head would explode from the freezing temperature and a thousand memories flashing before his eyes in a whirlwind, but they had no time for this– he had to get Arthur out as fast as he could. When he opened his eyes, he realized the pooling water had come to their stomach.
"Arthur please, you're drowning!" the warlock begged.
Arthur's sword wobbled, and Merlin noticed how he was constantly readjusting his grip on the handle as though he was having a hard time having to force himself to point his sword at his manservant. His pupils widened like a cornered wounded deer, and his voice shook when he said, "then I will drown."
Merlin let out a shaky breath, his breathing heaving with panic and the exhausting attempt to shove away all the hurt he was feeling. "I can get you out of here–"
"Why should I trust you?" Arthur scoffed.
"I've always been there for you, haven't I?" Merlin pleaded. "I've never hurt you, I'd never hurt you–"
Arthur was shouting now, although he almost sounded as vulnerable as Merlin. "You lied to me! I can't trust you!"
The storm continued and the well was filling up impossibly fast. The cloud moved and blocked the moonlight, leaving them in near total darkness, the remaining trace of light glinting on the surface of Arthur's sword and chainmail.
"I– I'm– I'm sorry, but you have to believe me–"
"How can I trust you–"
"I've blasted the bars so you can get out!" the brunet exclaimed in despair. "Please, Arthur, I beg you, you have to believe me–"
Arthur seemed like he, too, had trouble breathing. "No, no–"
Merlin sniveled, breathing in several raindrops that were flowing down his face that made him choke. There was only one way, and Merlin hated it. Arthur had to lift him up first.
"Arthur, I need you to lift me. My ankle is broken–"
As Merlin had predicted, Arthur seemed to take this as a sign that Merlin wanted to escape and leave him here to die, because his voice was firm when he refused to comply. "No. No–"
"–I won't be able to lift you, but you can. You have to lift me–"
"So you can leave me here to die?" the blonde shouted derisively, hissing. Merlin flinched, pained that Arthur would think so meanly of him that he would let him die.
"I will never let you die, Arthur! I will lay down my own life to protect you!"
"You've lied to me all along!" Arthur shouted.
The storm kept raging on above them and the pooling water had come up to their chests. They were soaking wet and Arthur's fringes was slick on his forehead from the rain but when Merlin looked up and met his eyes, he knew that they were both crying.
Merlin's shoulder sagged down and, for a moment, he let himself to just breathe. He felt a lumping sob forming in the back of his throat, but he swallowed it back. He had to calm down, think rationally, and get Arthur out. It was all that mattered now.
"You have to lift me," he reiterated. "Once I climbed out, I'll get something to pull you up."
Arthur still wouldn't listen. "No!"
Merlin didn't know what came to him, but he found himself making his way towards Arthur, his right hand scaling the wall beside him to reduce the weight on his broken ankle, until the tip of Arthur's sword was touching his stomach. He could shout at Arthur and beg for him to see sense until the water came up to their heads but this, maybe this would show Arthur that he wasn't afraid to die for him, that he would really lay down his own life to save him. With his left hand, he grabbed the cool flat surface of Arthur's sword and set it right on his abdomen, keeping it in place. He looked down, the sword was glinting underwater.
When he looked up, Arthur widened his eyes and Merlin felt the blonde pulling the sword away from the warlock's stomach.
"Arthur..." Merlin started, his name coming out as nothing more than a whisper. "Arthur, you have a good heart."
Arthur looked like he was still in shock and something in Merlin just wanted to hold the blonde's hands and tell him that it would be alright, that he would live. But he proceeded.
"I can't tell you to do anything, but I have never doubted your heart," he continued.
Silence pressed around them despite the raging storm. Merlin looked straight into Arthur's eyes.
He remembered Arthur, young and inexperienced, fresh from his father's teachings that magic was evil, but decided to smuggle Mordred out of Camelot. Arthur, coming to the Labyrinth of Gedref because he couldn't stand the suffering of his people. Arthur, coming to Ealdor to help him even though he was nothing but a serving boy and his village was outside the kingdom's jurisdiction. He remembered waking up from the poison from Nimueh's chalice, all because Arthur put his life in danger to retrieve the morteaus flower.
"I can only ask you to do what you believe to be right."
Merlin closed his eyes– this was it.
The water had come up to their shoulders. Arthur could run him down right now, and it would all be over.
It would all be over now.
And then his eyes shot open. Merlin felt the sword he was holding by his left hand being pulled away from him. Arthur was nowhere to be seen and before he knew it, someone had gathered his legs and pushed him upwards. Arthur was lifting him.
Pain shot from his broken ankle, but Merlin barely felt it. He still wasn't high enough to reach anything that could pull him upwards. The edge of the well was slippery– he couldn't get a hold of anything–
"Feorhberendum fultume me!" [2]
At first he couldn't feel it. The rain was tainted by too much dark magic from Morgana. The ground above him felt like a rolling endless opening of lifeless graveyard; no life, until–
He felt it. A tree– he called out at it, and he felt one of its roots reaching out that them. He brought out his hand as far as he could, reaching back out, until finally–
He saw a protruding root slowly making its way towards him, snaking on the ground closer and closer, until Merlin could get a hold of it and pulled himself up. He wasn't the most athletic person in the kingdom, and he had difficulties pulling himself up, but he pushed himself. He needed to be fast, Arthur was drowning–
Rolling to his sides, Merlin quickly commanded the root to extend its length and pivoted back to face the well. He gasped when he found out that Arthur had disappeared under the water.
"Arthur!" he shouted on the top of his lungs, but was greeted back with the echo of his own voice followed with silence.
Merlin felt the air thinning as despair set over him.
"Arthur!"
No. "Arthur!"
No, no. Arthur couldn't drown. He must not die because Merlin wasn't quick enough–
"ARTHUR!"
And then a tug on the root. In less than a second, Merlin grabbed the other end of the root and pulled. Pulled, and pulled, and pulled until his wrists and fingers hurt.
Arthur's figure peeked from the edge of the well. He weighed himself up and collapsed on the ground beside Merlin, his hands still holding the root. On the other end of the root was Merlin's hands, lying on the ground just inches from Arthur's, his fingers hardened from strain on where it had been curling around the vine-like plant. Neither let go of it.
For a moment they just lied there, exhausted and panting, raindrops pelting against their faces.
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[1]: Open quickly!(This is used in Merlin so many times and in several forms, I'm sure you are all familiar with it ahahahahah XD)
[2]: Living beings help me! ('Feorhberendum' translates to plural 'living things', if my research is right, and Merlin actually used 'fultume me' (meaning 'help me') when he asked for help from the water of Lake Avalon that the Fisher King gave him.
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A/N: Whooh, that one is so long! So that's the end of the fifth chapter! What do you guys think? Arthur finally found out Merlin had magic! I'm sorry if it doesn't turn out the way you wanted, in addition for being impossibly long, but I think this is how Arthur would've reacted. He is brought up being taught that magic is evil, and to finally find out that his most trusted friend is actually a sorcerer can prove to be too much for him to handle when they are under a crisis in which their lives hanged. But he will come to his senses, though, just give him time– he's not entirely that impossible. Also poor Merlin having to witness Arthur losing faith in him :( I almost cried writing him with all the hurt and anguish he had to endure. Aaaahhh, I just want to hug him and tell him everything will be alright! But oh well, it means that we only have two chapters to go and an epilogue! Also, for those who are waiting for Merlin and Arthur realizing they are Soulmates, don't worry, the moment will come! Reviews and constructive criticism are most welcomed! Also thank you for those who have commented and voted so far! To see little notifications from you guys always makes my day! *gives you all one big hug and a jar of chocolate cookies because I can't thank you all enough*