Boy From The Woods

Senseless

Again, Arthur's mind drifted into consciousness. He could make out the hazy red of the drapes above his bed. It was much darker than the last time he woke and Gwen was no where insight. He propped himself up with a few pillows and felt the bandage around his head. He tested a few spots with his hand and winced when he found the wound. Carefully, he slid his legs over the edge of his bed. He stood slowly, ready to fall back if he felt faint. However, he seemed to be able to stand. He wondered how long it had been since the last time he was awake. He took tentative steps forward and found that he could walk. He fetched some cloths from his wardrobe before slipping out the door. Gwen had said Cenred was in Camelot... He had to make sure Merlin was okay. 

He had looked so terrified back in Gaius' chambers... Why did he care so much for this boy? It was a question Arthur had been asking himself for several days now. He should be letting Merlin die at the stake. His magic had gotten out of hand and had put everyone in danger. Wasn't that bad? It just proves what your father has always told you!

But, it wasn't his fault, another part says. He thought he was going to be handed back to Cenred... he was just trying to defend himself. Any knight would have done the same with a sword if he was going to be taken to an awful place like that. 

Those memories Arthur had seen in his sleep... had they been real? They felt the same as the one Merlin had shared of his mother in the woods, but how could that be? Could Merlin share memories with him by accident just like he could lose control of his magic? Or was Merlin consciously sharing them with him from wherever he was? Arthur didn't know, but he intended to find out. 

It took the prince a few tedious minutes to descend the stairs to the dungeons as he had to pause every so often to rest. His brain pounded against his skull. He would close his eyes and lean against the cold stone, waiting for it to pass. 

The place was empty, save for a few sleeping guards. Arthur grabbed a torch from the wall to light his way. He peered into every cell as he passed, searching for the frail form until... there he was. 

"Merlin," Arthur whispered. "Merlin are you alright?" He didn't get a response. 

Arthur pushed the torch through the bars, trying to get a better look at his friend. In the flickering light he saw Merlin lying on his back on the hard dungeon bed. His eyes were open, staring in all directions as his body shivered under his thin cloths. 

"Merlin, are you awake? Answer me! We need to make a plan to get you out!"

"You would be willing to go against the will of you father to ensure this boys safety?"

Arthur whirled around to see who had spoken. "Gailyn," he muttered under his breath. The man was dressed in a fine green shirt with a few pieces of armor on top. A dark cloak billowed around his shoulders. His narrow face and hard eyes would cut a man just as easily as a knife.

Gailyn frowned when he heard his name. "You know me, boy?"

Arthur nodded.

"How could that be?" He looked through the bars. "I thought I made sure his tongue was sealed."

Arthur's body tensed in anger. So this man was the one who used the binding curse. Instinctively he reached for his sword, ready to strike, only it wasn't there. He cursed himself for being in such a haste to get out of his room.