Dark Merlin: The Man Called Emrys

IX

EMRYS HUNCHED OVER HIS saddle. Giving a painful tug, he pulled on the reigns halting the mare. Traveling had felt like an eternity, and for the first time in his life, he couldn't be more happy to be back at the Citadel.

He had lost so much blood over the past day and half that what little strength remained was quickly fading. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sir Leon once again coming to his aid only this time Emrys would accept it without complaint.

As Sir Leon stepped up to the mare, Emrys lost his grip on the reins and slid off the saddle. If it wasn't for Sir Leon's quick reflexes he would've hit the cobblestone. He tried holding in his cry of pain from the sudden grip, but he couldn't keep back a small yelp as he winced. His legs wobbled as he straightening his legs to stand, but they held no feeling. One thing was for certain. He wasn't getting to Gaius's chamber on his own.

"Arthur!"

Emrys slowly turned his head towards the flight of stairs. Squinting, he found Uther quickly descending them rushing towards his son. He glanced around at the men. "I expected you to return with more men then you left with. Not the other way around."

Arthur huffed. "We were ambushed by Morgana. It was a trap all along." He paused, exchanging glances with his father. "I fear the others are already dead. We were lucky to escape."

Uther let out a deep sigh. "That you were indeed." He slapped Arthur on the shoulder. "Did you have any luck locating the crystal?"

Arthur shook his head. "If I had to guess, the sorcerer knew we'd come back to look for it, thus being the whole reason he hid it in the first place."

"So, he was conspiring with Morgana to kill you all along. I shouldn't have been so quick to send you out there." Uther averted his gaze. "Thankfully, their quest was futile." Arthur nodded.

Emrys tried listening to the rest of their conversation, but found it difficult to make out every word as his mind grew foggy. Even with Sir Leon's grip around his abdomen, he was doing his best to use his remaining strength to keep his weight off the Knight, but the longer he stood there the heavier his body became. A sudden wave of weakness wash over him and his legs buckled leaving Sir Leon to deal with his dead weight. He closed his eyes for a split second wishing he could fade into the black that beckoned him, but he remembered he had a job to do and couldn't allow Merlin to interfere. He forced his eyes opened in one last remaining attempt to stay awake. His vision swam, but he could pinpoint Arthur from a mile away. Arthur placed Emrys's left arm over his shoulder helping Sir Leon.

"What happened to your servant?" rang Uther's booming voice.

"Like I said," Arthur began. "Ambushed. We need to get him to Gaius." Uther gradually stepped aside, and Emrys felt his feet being dragged along the ground as he was carried in-between the Prince and his Knight.

Down a few hallways, and up a couple flights of stairs he was carried until Gaius's voice drifted into his ears. By this point, he could no longer keep his eyes open and his head hung.

"Merlin?! What happened?"

"We were ambushed," Arthur briefly explained. "He was hit with a bolt. I tried everything I could to clean and bandage the wound but I'm no physician." The whole time Arthur spoke, Emrys was hauled through the chamber and gently laid on one of the beds.

His wound burned as it was removed from around Sir Leon's shoulders and he let out a loud cry. Within seconds, his shirt was being peeled away from the wound. "It's infected," Gaius breathed disheartened. "I'll have to cut some of the infected skin away in order to get to the healthy tissue." Gaius stood up straight and walked away.

Even through his agony, Emrys could hear Arthur whisper, "He's been awake this entire time. Wouldn't even sleep when we stopped to rest for the night." A long pause came, and Arthur's voice returned even softer. "Do you think it's still connected to Morgana?"

"I'd bet my life on it," Gaius whispered back. "I'll give him a draft to help him sleep."

"No!" Emrys shouted, his eyes shooting open and wondering until he laid eyes on Arthur and Gaius. He shook his head. "No ... draft." He panted as he prayed for the pain to subside. Out of all the torture he's endured, this wasn't even the worse thing that's happened to him, but thanks to Merlin making their body so weak from the lack of sleep, Emrys couldn't find the strength to keep fighting. Yet, he knew he must.

"Merlin, you need rest," Gaius argued. "A wound this intense will drain all the strength you have making it hard for your body to fight off any infections."

"No!" he yelled again. He knew the reasoning behind not wanting to fall asleep, but neither Gaius nor Arthur did. He had to think of something to say. Something Merlin would've said. "Please, Gaius." He lowered his voice and even managed a tear—though it wasn't hard being in so much pain—trying to get all of their sympathy. "You know I can't." He paused to catch his breath. "Not with the nightmares. I'd rather die. At least then I would finally be free of the torment."

Arthur glanced Gaius's way, but all Gaius did was step to the side and began preparing something in one of his bowls. He took what appeared to be a newly sharpened dagger and placed it on top of some coals in the nearby fireplace. After a few agonizing minutes, Gaius placed a stool beside Emrys's bed and sat down, the bowl and dagger in hand. "Okay, but this next bit isn't going to be fun."

Emrys clenched his jaw and looked to the ceiling. It wasn't that he enjoyed all the pain, but with Merlin's clumsy self, his pain tolerance was higher than probably a normal mans. Especially since it was him who always got trapped with the treatment. Rarely was there enough pain to render them both unconscious ... but a part of him was afraid that this would be the moment. He gave Gaius a firm nod indicating that he was ready.

"Here." Arthur unclasped his belt, folded it in half, and extended it towards Emrys. "You might want to bite down on this."

Emrys glared up at Arthur before remembered that he was supposed to be portraying Merlin. Pushing aside his feelings to refuse the Prince's help, he opened his mouth permitting Arthur to place the belt inside.

"I'll go as fast as I can," Gaius said, drawing the tip of the dagger toward Emrys's skin.

Bracing himself, he felt the hot metal rip into his skin and he clenched his eyes shut, biting the belt between his teeth as hard as his jaw would allow. He screamed, but it was muffled through the barrier that was his teeth and he gripped the sheets of the bed in his fists. He would give anything to be able to use his magic right now, to relieve himself of the pain, but he couldn't with Arthur standing next to him.

"I'm almost done," Gaius whispered, obvious heartbreak in his tone.

He was beginning to debate if staying awake was even worth it. Yes, he had things he needed to do, but there would always be other times. He was enduring so much that he didn't have to. It just meant risking losing control, but at this point, he was starting to no longer care. Perhaps it was all the pain finally getting to him.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, he panted releasing the belt from his mouth, no longer feeling the white hot burn. Slowly he opened his eyes, let go of the sheets, and rolled his head towards Gaius. The intense pain was now replaced by a cooling sensation as Gaius painted a green paste onto his wound.

He felt a gentle hand on his opposite shoulder. "You did good, Merlin." Even through his fogged mind, he could recognize Arthur's voice.

Gaius grabbed a roll of bandages from off the table, and Emrys finally realized that he had had enough. He sank into the sheets as his heavy eyelids drifted shut, and he could hear voices as they grew more and more distant.

"Merlin?"

"Let him sleep," Gaius interjected.

"But he said something about nightmares," Arthur argued.

"Believe me when I say the hallucinations from an infection and no sleep can be far worse than any nightmare."

With those words being the last Emrys could properly make out, his mind drifted into long awaited unconsciousness.