Work Text:
Merlin groaned as he tried to lift his head, his vision blurry. As his sight cleared, he glanced around the small room, trying to take stock of his situation. His wrists were cuffed behind him, and his head was throbbing. The room he was in was tiny, barely wide enough for him to lay down, and the heavy wooden door was secured with a solid iron lock. He pushed himself to his feet, attempting to peer through the grate in the door, hoping to jog his memory.
He and Arthur had been…”Wait! Arthur!”He called frantically. He had been with Arthur last night, he was sure of it. No one answered his call, and he tried again. “Arthur!!” This time, footsteps answered his call, and he held his breath as they came around the corner. It was not Arthur. Instead, it was a man he had never seen before, but the look on his face told Merlin that he was not a friend. That, and the fact that he was swinging Excalibur around carelessly. “Where did you get that?” Merlin hissed. “What have you done with Arthur? If you’ve hurt him…”
The man chuckled. “It’s funny how much you care about him, since he clearly doesn’t care about you. I didn’t do anything to him.”
“I don’t believe you. Arthur wouldn’t abandon me, and he would never leave his sword behind.”
“You’re sure about that? There’s no secret you’ve been hiding? Nothing that would make Arthur leave you behind? Nothing it would destroy him to learn?” The man leered at him. “Like, for instance, that you have been lying to him since he met you? That you have magic?” Merlin gasped, reeling back and sinking to the ground as the memories came flooding back.
Arthur seeing him using magic.
Lighting a fire, what a stupid way to get caught.
The hurt and betrayal in Arthur’s eyes.
The stammered assurances that “I only use it for you, Arthur. I would never hurt you.”
The cold look on Arthur’s face as he turned away. “I just need some time to think. Give me some space."
Turning into the woods to respect Arthur’s wish, tears streaming down his face.
The sudden blinding pain in the back of his head.
Then…Nothing.
“No.” Merlin whispered. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did. We met him dragging your unconscious body through the woods. He begged us to take you off his hands, said you were a sorcerer and would fetch us a good price if we turned you in. He also gave us this sword. Said you had given it to him, and he was pretty sure it was enchanted. He seemed so relieved when we took you. Said he didn’t want to see you ever again, that you had betrayed him. You might care about him, as much as it is possible for a sorcerer like you to care, but he quite clearly doesn’t care about you.”
The man walked away whistling, Excalibur thrown carelessly over his shoulder, leaving Merlin crying quietly behind him.
***************************************
Merlin sobbed for hours, finally stopping when there were no more tears to cry. He curled weakly on the floor. He couldn’t believe that Arthur would leave him like that. He had known that Arthur wouldn’t be happy to learn his secret, but he had hoped that the friendship they had built would have been strong enough to weather the hurt. Obviously, Merlin cared far more than Arthur did.
Days passed. Merlin barely moved, unable to muster up the energy. His captors brought him food and water occasionally, but he didn’t touch it. Without Arthur, he didn’t care what happened to him. His whole life had been devoted to protecting him, and now that Arthur had left him, he had no purpose. He felt lost, adrift, alone.
Days drifted into weeks, and Merlin didn’t notice. He never tried to escape, which he easily could have in the beginning, but what was the point? Without Arthur, what else did he have to live for? Now he no longer had the strength to move. Most of his days were spent drifting in and out of consciousness, with the occasional break either of food arriving, and the uneaten tray being taken away, or his captor returning to gloat. It didn’t matter. The end was near, and he found himself struggling to care.
He had just managed to roll over, which was more movement than he had managed in quite a while, when he heard a commotion down the hall. He didn’t bother to move. The noises drew closer, and suddenly the door was thrown open. “Merlin!” Lancelot exclaimed. He called back over his shoulder. “He’s here. I found him.”
With careful hands, Lancelot removed the chains from Merlin’s wrists before lifting him in his arms. Merlin groaned, hanging limply in Lancelot’s hold. “Arthur knows.” He whispered, his voice hoarse after days of disuse.
”What?”
"Arthur knows. He saw me doing magic. He hates me now.”
“He doesn’t hate you, Merlin.”
“Yes he does. He knocked me out and brought me here, selling me off. He never wanted to see me again.”
“Is that what they told you? Oh, Merlin.” Lancelot’s arms tightened around him. “They were lying to you.”
“No. He even had Excalibur. Arthur left it here, and he left me. He hates me.”
Lancelot carried him out of the building. The sun was warm, and too bright after so long spent in that dark cell. The rest of the knights were gathered around the doorway. “Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed.
“No. No. NO.” Merlin curled his face into Lancelot’s chest. “I can’t. NO!” Lancelot walked away immediately, murmuring soothing nonsense until Merlin calmed.
Gwaine stepped up to prevent Arthur from following. “Give them some space. I’ll go find out what’s happening.”
Arthur paced nervously until Gwaine returned. “He’s terrified of you, Arthur. He insists you hate him, and you turned him in to these men. He’s quite determined in that idea. He won’t say why you hate him, though.”
Arthur sat down heavily. “I know why. I found out he has magic, and I didn’t react very well.” To Arthur’s shock, none of his knights seemed the least bit surprised. “You all knew?” They studiously avoided his gaze. “We can deal with THAT later. Anyways, I told him I needed some space, and he headed off into the woods. Next thing I know, I’m waking up here. They must have nabbed him from the woods, and told him I’m the one who brought him here. He’s spent weeks thinking I hated him enough to send him to his death. No wonder he’s afraid of me.”
“Well, he’s too weak to handle talking to you right now. Once he regains some strength, then you guys can talk it out.”
***************************************
The ride back to Camelot was difficult. Arthur was in much better physical shape than Merlin. They had planned to ransom him, so they had fed him decently well. But he was so worried about Merlin that he was unable to lead the group. Leon, who had clearly hoped to cede leadership to Arthur as soon as they found him, was stuck.
Merlin was a disaster. Physically, he was unable to sit up by himself, he was so weak. Lancelot had managed to talk him into eating, but it would still take time to heal. Mentally, he was even worse off. Nothing that Gwaine or Lancelot said could convince him that Arthur didn’t actually hate him, and so he lived in terror that he was being taken to his death or exile. Every time Arthur even looked his way, he shrank back in fear.
They were traveling so slowly, it took them over a week to reach even a sight of the walls of Camelot. They had hoped to get home that night, but it was getting dark, and so they set up camp on the edge of the forest. It had been raining all day, and they were thoroughly soaked and miserable.
They all split to prepare for the night, heading all directions to gather firewood, set up tents, and find something for dinner. Except Merlin, who was left, snugly wrapped, to watch the horses. Just to watch them. He was, under no circumstances, to do anything other than watch them.
That didn’t last long. Merlin was tired of being useless. Tired of being coddled. Tired of being tired. Keeping the cloak tightly wrapped around him, he forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the tree behind him. He tried to take a few careful steps, and nearly collapsed, the only thing saving him another nearby tree. With a quick glance around, he ensured he was alone before raising his hand. A muttered word, and the horses’ tack removed itself, coming to rest in a neat pile at the base of the tree. Or at least that was the plan.
A soft gasp broke his concentration, sending the equipment tumbling to the ground. He spun around to see Arthur watching him. Panicking, Merlin stumbled away from Arthur, collapsing to the ground. “Arthur, I’m sorry.” He begged. “I won’t do it again. Please don’t be mad?”
Arthur reached for him, then pulled himself back. “Merlin, I need you to listen to me. I am not going to hurt you. I do not hate you.”
Merlin’s eyes filled with tears. “But you turned me in to be sent to my death.”
“They lied to you. I had nothing to do with that. I was captured at the same time as you. I thought you had gotten free, until Lancelot brought you out of the awful place. I know I did not react well the first time I saw your magic, but believe me when I say I do not hate you. I just needed some time to process, and I have had plenty of that in the past few weeks. When I actually thought about it, I realized something about all those times when things went just a little suspiciously too well. When I was knocked unconscious and woke up to you telling me I had managed to defeat the danger, even though I never remembered it. It was all you, wasn’t it?”
Merlin nodded slowly, tears still dripping down his face. “I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you. You have saved my life more times than I can count, at extreme risk to your own. Someday, you will have to tell me, but for now…” Arthur sank to his knees in front of Merlin, head bowed in the same way that people knelt before Arthur. “Let my thanks suffice, although mere words could never be enough thanks for all you have done for me and our kingdom.”
***************************************
The knights watching from the woods heaved simultaneous sighs of relief. Maybe things would work out after all.