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The steps coming through the corridor marked a new day. The cell was always in total darkness, not even a sliver of light coming from outside. There was no other way to tell the passing of days but with the daily visit of the jailers.
When the door opened, Arthur did not take the trouble of turning around and facing his captors. He had barely moved since the day before, left to wait there after his daily round of torture.
Arthur grunted when the jailers raised him, but he kept silent as the men dragged him through the corridor. Arthur thought there were more cells around him, but he had no idea where his knights might be. As far as he knew, no one but him had suffered torture. Or maybe the others were better at enduring the pain and keeping their shouting than Arthur. Arthur’s only relief was knowing Merlin had not been among the captured. Or so Arthur hoped.
They bound Arthur like they always did. At first, it had been a necessity for his captors, as Arthur had never stopped attacking them when unbound, even when that meant their beatings turned more vicious. But now Arthur almost welcomed it, since he could not stand on his own two feet anymore.
When Arthur returned to his cell, he was barely conscious. Maybe he had fainted at some moment. Arthur could not tell. He did not know how many blows he had taken. Everything hurt. He only hoped he had not given in to their demands. Arthur prayed for courage or death before breaking.
Lying in the same position he had landed, Arthur could see a bowl with water and another with what was passed for food. As soon as he could move, he would eat everything. Not that it prevented the thirst and hunger after a while. At least they fed him every day.
Much sooner than expected, Arthur heard steps and panicked despite himself. It could not be another day. And Arthur doubted he could endure more than one torture session a day. He did not know if he could make it another day.
But this time, no one caught or dragged him. Instead, the hands holding him were gentle and with such care, covering him with some cloth. He remembered feeling the cold before, though the pain had distracted Arthur from it.
“Hold on a moment, Arthur. You’ll be out and safe in a moment.”
Arthur knew that voice. He had to open his eyes. Arthur knew that face as well.
“Merlin,” Arthur said. Or he tried to. He was not sure the sound resembled a word.
“Yes, it’s me, it’s Merlin. We’ll be back in Camelot in no time. And you’ll recover. You’ll see.”
Merlin was crying. Arthur should say something about it, about Merlin being a girl. And Merlin would insult him back then. Maybe Arthur, the prince of Camelot, had cried as well. But they would have time for that later. But now Arthur was so tired that he preferred to sleep.
"It's okay," Arthur heard Merlin say. "You can rest now."