FIC: A King's Ransom (8/12) Merlin: Merlin/Arthur, PG-13
TITLE: A King's Ransom (8/12)
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
SERIES: Love and Loyalty
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, Drama
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
SPOILERS: For Season 1 (AU after 1x5: Lancelot)
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 1,395
SUMMARY: Camelot is burning. A Dragon's call, a Seer's voice and discord between lovers do battle in the fight for a kingdom - but can anyone truly emerge victorious?
DISCLAIMER: I own not the boys, nor the show. Thankfully, they’re doing just fine.
NOTES: Sequel to Fealty. Previous parts here
I really wasn't going to do this, but this savage little bunny latched on to my leg and wouldn't let go.
This is dedicated to The Coven and the Dragon. He knows why.
It was of little surprise to him that he had failed to stick a sword in Caradoc, but it was always worth a shot. Especially to see the look on his face.
This day, meant to cement the invader's rule, had turned into a conclusive victory for Camelot. Instead of a dead prince and a mourning king, they were greeted by a hero and a monarch in exile, one who no doubt lived to fight another day.
Arthur could not stop smiling. And he'd been left alone for the rest of the day, which had allowed him time to dress the shallow wound on his shoulder. He hoped Gaius would visit him later and then he could find out about Merlin.
"I suppose you think you've won."
Looking up at his visitor, Arthur shrugged. "Does it really matter? It's what the people think that matters."
Caradoc snorted. "The people! Listen to you! That's why your kingdom is weak." He spat on the floor; Arthur smirked.
"My kingdom wasn't overthrown by my own ministers. How is dear Geraint?"
Arthur watched Caradoc pale, and silently thanked the Dragon for that little gem. It seemed the monster had been right about the Northlands - and that meant they were running out of time.
"You abandoned your kingdom," Caradoc said slowly, visibly shaking with rage. "And for what? To play house with your manservant! You don't deserve Camelot."
Arthur ignored the small voice in his head that applauded Caradoc's words; it sounded exactly like his father. Caradoc smiled.
"I'll admit, he is pretty. Quite a find, Arthur. I'll be sure to...take care of him."
He froze, willing himself to stay calm. Caradoc couldn't have captured Merlin. He had to be free. But the thought of Merlin, at the mercy of this man...
Arthur's jealousy flared but his face did not betray him. Silently, he fumed, wishing he could hear Merlin, touch him, take him to back to their village and tie him to the bed. He'd be safe there. He'd be Arthur's.
"Oh well. There'll be plenty of time for that later. Now, I need to make an example of you. And I know just the thing."
"Can't wait," Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes. Inside, he cheered - Caradoc didn't have Merlin. And that's all he cared about.
~
They had ridden for two days without stopping, only pausing at some strange tree structure for an hour's rest and the chance to eat the meagre supplies the serving girl had procured. Gwen, that was her name.
Morgana insisted she knew the way and they had followed the muddy track through the forest, eyes set on the mountains and a distant flock of birds that were heading north. When they eventually found their way into a sleepy village at dusk, Uther wondered how his son could possibly live in such a place.
The house was small - more like a shed than a dwelling, a quarter of the size of Arthur's rooms with a small vegetable garden at the front. Uther had not imagined the sorcerer could grow things.
"Who goes there?"
A small boy stood in front of the door, brandishing a stick. Uther placed a hand on his sword, but the boy squinted up at them before launching himself into Morgana's arms.
"Garna! You came back! Where's Merlin and Arfa?"
She settled the boy on her hip and carried him towards the house, while Gwen led the horses to one side of the building. A rudimentary stable, no doubt.
"Well, they're away for a while, so they asked us to look after their little house. Where's your mother?"
Uther looked around the house, wrinkling his nose. It was one large room, cheerfully untidy and poorly furnished. Morgana set down the boy and lit the few lamps, showing a shabby and ill-constructed house that must let in the rain and the snow and, clearly, unwanted guests.
"She's poorly. That's why I'm waiting for Merlin."
Morgana nodded seriously and approached one of the larger cupboards, opening it to reveal shelves of odd pots and jars; Uther recognised a few of them from Gaius' collection. "Does she have a fever?"
"Cow fever," the boy said solemnly, and Morgana took down a pot and handed it to him.
"Try this one and Merlin will see to her when he gets back. It won't be many days now."
She thought Merlin was going to return. Uther wasn't blind - the boy had been barely able to stand when he'd aided their escape, and all that magic had to do something to him.
The little boy took the jar gratefully and scampered out into the dark. Morgana frowned as she watched them go, and then opened another cupboard.
"Well, there's a pie at least. I'll take it to the oven in the morning. And half a loaf of bread - would you like some? The jam is rather good, you know."
Uther stared for a moment before sitting at the crude table, and accepting a glass of ale from her hand. "I forget that you have visited this place."
Morgana smiled. "It's not that bad. And Arthur can bake a good pie."
He choked. "Pie?"
With a smirk, Morgana plucked the pie from the shelf and showed it to him: the Pendragon crest.
"My son," Uther said slowly, "does not bake pies."
Gwen came in through the door and looked at the pie in Morgana's hands. "Oh good! One of Arthur's!" She saw Uther's face and blanched. "Not that there's anything wrong with Camelot pies, or any Camelot food. It's just...a really good pie."
The crown prince of Camelot baked pies. Now he really had heard it all.
"I am going to bed," he said and lay down, staring at the ceiling. This was Arthur's little retreat, his home with the sorcerer. He had expected...something different, something more like his rooms in Camelot. Something...royal.
Instead, he had found a village home, and signs of community. Arthur had forgotten who he was.
When finally he slept, he dreamt of Camelot and Arthur and pie.
~
"Caradoc has Arthur. You want me to stand by-"
"Hush."
They'd laid low for two days, at Gaius' insistence, but there had been no news from the castle. Merlin listened to the sounds of the crowd and hobbled down the stairs of the inn, stepping out into the street.
"Where's it coming from?" Merlin looked around, trying to find a source. He was too tired to use magic, having overstretched himself again in the escape from the arena.
"I think it might be the main square."
They started walking, a crowd gathering at the castle walls, and Merlin followed their gazes; his breath caught in his throat and he was struggling to breathe. Gripping Gaius' arm like a vice, he pointed up at the castle ramparts.
Arthur.
An iron cage was suspended from the ramparts, gently spinning in the breeze. And there was the prince, slumped against the bars, barely conscious. Blood dripped onto the stones below, and Merlin could see open wounds covering his lover's body. He'd been beaten and left in the sun.
"We have to get him down," he said desperately, but Gaius slowly shook his head; Merlin felt tears welling in his eyes, tears of frustration and grief. He was meant to protect Arthur! They were meant to stand together, through everything - that's what the Dragon had said! Two sides of a coin.
Merlin's hand went to his wrist, fingers tracing the woven scar across his skin. The brand was still as fresh as the first day, when they'd sat in Morgana's rooms, together, basking in their victory against Uther. That all seemed so...small, compared to this.
"You have to tend him," he heard himself saying. "Caradoc will listen if...you say it right. For another tourney. He needs to be able to...stand."
"Merlin-"
"Please, Gaius."
Staring into the sky, Merlin could not help blaming himself. He had left him - he should have dragged him out, promise or not, and then he wouldn't have to look at the sight. But Arthur needed to defend his kingdom, and that's why Merlin loved him. He would sacrifice everything to give them a few more days in the sun.
Merlin would not let his sacrifice be in vain.
"I will go to him," Gaius said, leaving his side.
"Thank you," Merlin muttered. Hold on, Arthur.