Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/358926.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Merlin_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Gwaine/Merlin
  Character:
      Merlin_(Merlin), Gwaine_(Merlin)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon, Slavery, Bondage
  Series:
      Part 1 of Series_of_Nots_(Harem_AU)
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-03-09 Words: 6241
****** Not in Control ******
by chicago_ruth
Summary
     Merlin likes owning Gwaine -- at least Gwaine is just property and
     can't judge Merlin for not living up to anybody's expectations.
Notes
     Thank you to all my friends who listened to me whine about this fic.
     <3
See the end of the work for more notes
Morgana helps him buy his first slave when he is ten. She is only three years
older than him, but she speaks like an expert on the matter -- a mannerism she
picked up from their governess, Morgause. Merlin is just grateful that he
doesn't have to do the process by himself. How would he know what to look for
if she weren't there to help him?
With her advice, Merlin ends up choosing a boy only slightly older than him,
with short-cropped brown hair and an easy smile.
"This one is tame," the slave-peddler says, and neither Merlin nor Morgana is
experienced enough yet to see the lie for what it is.
--
Merlin needs a slave, they tell him, because he cannot keep asking the guards
to do things for him. His father is too busy -- he is so busy that Merlin
hasn't seen him in months -- and Morgana is getting too old to play with him.
Gaius has patients, Morgause has other students, and Nimueh and Sigan are too
busy ruling the country to deal with a lord's son.
(If they hadn't all been so busy, maybe Merlin wouldn't have been alone that
night.)
Thus, a new companion for him.
--
The slave -- Gwaine, his name is Gwaine -- is wild. He is maybe thirteen years
old, and his main job is to entertain Merlin and do chores for him. Merlin
thinks that should be simple, but Gwaine tries to run three times in the first
week. Morgause whips him the first two times, and makes Merlin do it the third.
She teaches him how to use his magic to make the lashes sting harder without
breaking flesh, and she shows him how to use the same magic to soothe the pain
after. Merlin cries anyway, because he hates using his magic to cause pain. (He
hates using his magic at all.)
After almost a month, Gwaine's back would be completely scarred if not for
magic.
"Perhaps you need a new technique," Gaius suggests after Merlin complains. "He
does not respond well to punishment. And he is alone and scared. Be his friend,
Merlin."
So Merlin tries to be Gwaine's friend. He shares his toys, gives Gwaine treats,
and has the tailor make new clothes for him. Gwaine accepts everything with a
smile, and another month later he runs away again.
"He may be a lost cause," Morgause says with a pinched look on her face. "At
this point we may have to just spell him into obedience."
Gwaine goes completely still at those words. Merlin has interacted with only
one spelled slave in his life, but that was enough. The spell robs slaves of
their personalities, until the only thing left is the desire to obey.
Merlin shakes his head. Gwaine isn't always perfect, and he makes a lot of
messes, but Merlin likes his smiles just the same. "Please don't! I can teach
him!"
He steps in front of Gwaine protectively, even though Gwaine is two heads
taller than him. Morgause snorts in laughter at that, which causes Merlin to
frown harder. "He's my slave, isn't he! I get to decide what to do with him!"
Morgause shakes her head. "How he behaves reflects on the household. Rein him
in within a month or I'm having him spelled." She turns to leave, but stops
briefly at the door.
"Count your blessings, boy. Young master Merlin is kinder than I am," she says
to Gwaine, the first time she has addressed him since the conversation started.
And then she is gone. Merlin sighs in relief.
"Why did you do that?" Gwaine asks. He has no compunction about speaking
directly to Merlin, even though all the rules say slaves should only speak when
spoken to. Merlin knows that rule well, because it applies to children as well.
Merlin tilts his head at Gwaine. "Do you want to be spelled?"
"No, of course not!" A look of horror passes over Gwaine, lingering as though
Gwaine is truly imagining how it would be. "Your mind is gone after a spell
like that."
Merlin takes Gwaine's hand into his own. Gwaine's hand is a lot larger,
rougher. His skin is darker too, like he spent a lot of time out in the sun.
Merlin is told to stay indoors fairly often, for fear of somebody stealing him
away again. (Don't think about it, Gaius said to him. It's over now, and don't
think about it.)
"Please," Merlin asks, "could you not run away anymore? I don't want Morgause
to hurt you."
He looks Gwaine in the eyes, and for some reason, Gwaine answers, "Okay."
--
Strangely enough, Gwaine does not attempt to escape again. Perhaps the threat
of being spelled into obedience is a strong enough deterrent.
It doesn't mean he isn't still cheeky. When the two of them are alone, Gwaine
treats Merlin like a child. Of course he shouldn't, but Merlin is too afraid to
complain -- what if Morgause catches wind and insists on setting the spell on
Gwaine? What if she makes Merlin do the spell? (Merlin is almost certain that
he couldn't, that his magic would refuse to obey, but Morgause has more success
in coaxing his magic into submission than he does.)
"Where are your parents?" Gwaine asks him one day, when they are out gathering
herbs for Gaius. The guards are a short distance away, keeping watch over
Merlin.
Merlin shrugs. "My mother was a slave, and my father is the dragonlord. He
always has to travel."
The answer seems to surprise Gwaine. "Your mother was a slave?"
Sometimes Merlin hears adults speaking about him, about the shame of his
parentage and that Balinor should have married a priestess, or at least a
sorceress, but they never mention it to his face. "Father once said that he
loved my mother very much, and he is sorry that I never got to meet her."
Gwaine kneels down so he is at eye-level with Merlin. "I'm sure she was a good
woman." He bites his lip, as if there is more to say, but then he shakes his
head and moves to a shrub.
"I think this is one of the herbs Gaius is looking for."
They work for a bit longer, though now Gwaine doesn't say anything. Merlin
doesn't understand, because the fact that he doesn't know his mother has never
bothered him before. Finally, to break the silence, he says, "It doesn't
matter. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. Even with a slave mother, my magic
isn't tainted. I just need to learn to control it."
But instead of getting Gwaine's mood to lighten, the statement makes him frown.
He refuses to speak to Merlin at all for the rest of the day.
--
"It's been almost a year, hasn't it?" Morgause says one morning during the
lessons. She has Morgana using a scrying stone to reach into the future, and
Merlin is supposed to be practicing his control over the elements. (Merlin
doesn't even have control over his magic, how is he supposed to control water
or fire?) Gwaine and Gwen are seated on the floor by the far wall.
The statement is odd, without context. It isn't anybody's birthday, nor can
Merlin recall either him or Morgana achieving anything about a year ago. Gwen
has been with them longer than a year and Gwaine less than that, so she isn't
talking about the slaves either.
"Don't," Morgana says, softly. Her eyes are wide and blank, still seeing into
the future. When no other words pass her lips, Merlin shrugs and lets his
concentration get back to the bowl of water in front of him.
The water is slowly rising to the air, forming small spheres and oblong shapes,
when Morgause pats him on the shoulder.
Suddenly the only thing Merlin can see is the dark room from a year ago, his
body bound with magical chains and his mouth stuffed with a foul-smelling
cloth. A soft touch on his shoulder makes him think he might get rescued, but
the touch sends a sharp jolt of pain through him. He cries out, it hurts it
hurts it--
The table slams against the opposite wall and splits into two. Morgana shrieks
and drops her scrying stone, and it sounds like somebody is saying something,
but everything is so loud that Merlin can't hear, he just needs to be alone,
right now, and his magic is surrounding him, keeping him safe in a way it
didn't a year ago.
It's easy to tell that Morgana and Gwen are terrified, and Merlin is sorry for
that but he doesn't know how to make it better. Morgause's eyes are glowing
gold, probably to launch a spell and berate him for losing control again, but
it isn't his fault, the magic isn't part of him, not really, it acts of its own
will and he can't, he can't make it do what somebody else orders him to, why
doesn't anybody understand.
His vision blurs and sobs escape, even though he's almost eleven and too old to
be crying. The tears get worse the moment he feels his magic shatter around
him. Merlin curls into himself, hoping nobody will see.
"Hey, hey. Merlin, I gotcha. Calm down."
Merlin lifts his head slightly. Gwaine is standing in front of him, one hand
extended. There is nothing but concern on his face, even though Merlin was so
sure that Gwaine didn't like him.
He takes the offered hand and lets himself be pulled into a hug. It's okay to
cry into Gwaine's shoulder, because Gwaine isn't really a person anyway, right?
He's just a slave.
--
Gwaine is nicer, after that. He brings breakfast for Merlin, he cleans Merlin's
rooms, he keeps Merlin entertained. Merlin still isn't sure why; after that
shameful performance, he would have expected even Morgana to avoid him. But
Gwaine makes Merlin feel better on the rough days, and he can make even dull
days fun, so Merlin cherishes the new attitude, even though he is not sure he
deserves it. He tries to make life easier for Gwaine, in his own way. He makes
sure all his leftovers go to Gwaine, and he has new trousers and tunics made
for him during those years where he grows and grows. And he tries to be gentle,
though on a few rare occasions Gwaine acts out and needs to be disciplined.
Morgause is proud of him. "You've done well," she says one night when Gwaine is
serving them dinner. "I would hardly know this is the same boy who tried to
flee almost daily." She reaches out to touch his bicep and he doesn't flinch
away.
Merlin blushes a bit but keeps his gaze on Gwaine. He doesn't like it when
other people touch Gwaine; it is easy enough to keep random strangers from
touching his property, but Morgause is his teacher and he cannot deny her. He
is already counting the days until Morgause is dismissed from service.
She catches his gaze for a moment, smiles, then drops her hand. "So, about your
lessons..."
Merlin has no doubt that she knows how he feels.
--
Only once does Gwaine ask about Merlin's outburst.
Merlin's first instinct is to ignore the question, to order Gwaine to shut up,
but Gwaine has been so good lately that it doesn't seem right.
"When I was younger, just two months shy of ten, somebody kidnapped me. I
don't... I don't remember a lot of it," -- he tries not to remember a lot of it
-- "but the person who took me tried to make me use my magic for something. I
don't know what or why. Just that it was bad. And I couldn't. I tried. I tried
really hard, but my magic doesn't always respond to me, or maybe I was too
scared, but--"
Gwaine runs a hand up and down Merlin's back, soothing, and doesn't ask Merlin
to continue when he falls silent.
--
Nimueh visits once a week, and always makes a point to dismiss Gwaine while she
is there. "I don't want him finding out," she says, only she never mentions
what it is that needs to stay hidden from Gwaine.
She teaches Merlin a few things about politics, more about history, and even
tries to get him to make a prophecy or two. He never gets very far -- "The
future is wide open" -- but it seems to satisfy her.
"You have such a great destiny, Merlin. It's a shame that things have fallen so
far off course."
Merlin sulks after her visits, but Gwaine always does something silly to
distract him. It's good that he's there, and when the visits are particularly
nerve-wracking, he finds himself willing to answer Gwaine's questions.
"Nimueh and Sigan rule this land. My father is a lord under them, but he's in
the north most of the time, negotiating with the dragons. And sometimes other
kingdoms -- they tend to respect a Dragonlord. And for some reason they offered
to keep me in their care."
He vaguely remembers hearing his father arguing with Nimueh and Sigan over
something, but it was before he was kidnapped. Ever since that incident, his
father has grown more and more distant, only visiting once every few months.
Sometimes Merlin wonders if he should be confiding this much in Gwaine, when he
doesn't even talk to Morgana this much -- Morgana, who has grown up with him
and knows his future -- but he decides he doesn't care. If there were a
problem, no doubt Nimueh or Morgause would have said as much by now.
--
When Merlin is fifteen, Gwaine kisses him. The sun is just beginning to set and
Merlin has settled in front of the fire, to read, when Gwaine crouches down
next to him. Gwaine pushes Merlin's book away and leans in, their lips brushing
against each other softly.
"Why--"
Gwaine takes advantage of Merlin's open mouth and deepens the kiss, more tongue
than finesse.
It isn't like Merlin hasn't noticed how attractive Gwaine has grown. He is no
longer taller than Merlin -- Merlin hit his growth spurt the past summer -- but
he still has a lot more muscle weight. Understandable, when Gwaine has to do
hard labor while Merlin can rely entirely on slaves and magic. Merlin feels a
bit self-conscious, truth be told, but Gwaine says nothing when his hands roam
under Merlin's tunic so he lets himself believe that Gwaine doesn't mind.
There was a lesson, a year or two ago, wherein Gaius explained that sex with
slaves is different from sex with equals. Something about power imbalances, and
taking care not to hurt anybody, and making sure everybody is happy.
But Gwaine kissed Merlin first, so Merlin figures everything is all right. He
kisses back as enthusiastically as he knows how to given his limited
experiences -- a few kisses with Morgana, and the don't think about it don't
think about it--
Merlin pushes Gwaine away. "Stop," he says, but he curls his arm around
Gwaine's back and keeps him from pulling away. "Just hold me, for a bit?"
"At your service," Gwaine says with a soft smile. They lie down together,
Merlin's head against Gwaine's chest, and it feels warm, safe. Merlin listens
and chuckles at the jokes Gwaine tells, and his mind doesn't stray into the
past again.
--
It takes them a while to get it right. Gwaine loves touching and being touched;
he loves to use his hands and his mouth in creative ways. Sometimes Merlin is
fine with that, and other times he remembers being small and scared.
"What if I didn't touch you?" Gwaine suggests, after three days in a row of
Merlin calling a stop to their activities.
Merlin stares. "How would that work?"
Gwaine stretches out on the bed and reaches to grasp at the headboard. "I'll
keep my hands like this. You can touch me, but I won't touch you."
Strangely, the idea calms Merlin. He finds his breathing evening out as he
takes his time exploring Gwaine's body. Brushing his fingers over Gwaine's
nipples does barely anything, but licking them has Gwaine's breath hitch.
Running his hands down Gwaine's sides elicits a shiver. When his hand briefly
settles on Gwaine's cock, Merlin can see Gwaine's grip on the headboard
tighten.
Counter to what Merlin expected, Gwaine does not make a lot of noise. He is
very expressive, but years of training keep him silent: it's this more than
anything that convinces Merlin that Gwaine always knows when he is
transgressing, that Gwaine acts out on purpose.
"Can I--"
"Whatever you want, Merlin," Gwaine says. "You're calling the shots." And
Gwaine snorts about that, as if it's funny somehow, but Merlin doesn't dwell.
He leans down and licks the head of Gwaine's cock, surprised at the smoothness
of the skin and the faint saltiness. Gwaine's thighs draw up slightly, a
reaction that must be involuntary, given how quickly Gwaine stills himself.
Merlin looks at Gwaine's face, notes the sheen of sweat on his forehead, then
applies his mouth more fully. It's amazing how much he can control Gwaine by
doing just this -- Gwaine's tremors get stronger and stronger, and Merlin needs
to apply pressure to keep Gwaine's hips from lifting off the bed.
"Now, now," Gwaine warns, just fast enough that Merlin can pull away and watch
Gwaine's seed spill onto his stomach.
The image of Gwaine stretched out and dirty burns itself into Merlin's mind. He
only needs a few tugs on his dick before he reaches his own release. He catches
as much of it as he can in his own hand and smears it across Gwaine's stomach,
mingling their seed.
"Beautiful," Merlin murmurs.
--
Gwaine gets used to being tied up. At first it is just Gwaine keeping his hands
to himself, though when his control slips Merlin begins using ropes and scarves
to bind him. Then Merlin discovers a pair of manacles stashed in a guest room
wardrobe, and those work even better. Gwaine smiles and laughs about them, and
sometimes will lean in close while serving a drink and say something ridiculous
like, "My wrists are starting to feel cold."
He always does it in front of guests, or when Morgause is in the room. It's
such a dangerous game to be playing, because if somebody overheard then Merlin
would be forced to punish Gwaine, but Merlin doesn't have it in his heart to
forbid the flirtatious lines.
--
It's Merlin's seventeenth birthday, and Nimueh and Sigan have spared no expense
in throwing a feast in his honor. He knows it is more about the politics than
about himself; Nimueh enjoys showing off their wealth, and Sigan enjoys
whispering lies to the courtiers. Still, for a day, Merlin can pretend that
people care about more than just his magic.
Merlin dances first with Morgana, then with Lady Helen, and then so many more
ladies that he begins losing count.
He remembers Freya though. She has grown beautiful since the last time he saw
her, almost a year ago, and she seems far more confident.
"I've started training to become the guardian of Avalon," she confesses when he
comments on her new demeanor. There is a faint blush on her cheek that only
serves to make her more enticing.
"That's great. I'm so glad for you."
She follows him to an empty corridor, and leans in to his kisses. She is soft,
and pliant, and her hands remain clasped with his. Merlin looks up briefly and
spots Gwaine, who has a strange, hurt expression on his face.
"What is it?" he snaps, annoyed at the interruption. Freya follows his gaze.
"I thought--" Gwaine starts, and his voice is tight.
"You don't need to think," and he fixes his eyes on Freya's lips again, "You're
just property."
He hears Gwaine's footsteps as he leaves -- no matter: he has no need for him
while Freya is here.
--
Merlin finds Gwaine kissing Gwen, after a meeting that has left him harried and
foul-tempered. Morgause expects him to participate, but she ridicules most of
his suggestions and encourages other members of the council to do the same. Not
even Morgana is willing to defend him; all she has are cryptic statements about
what may or may not come to be.
So he is upset, and all he wants is to curl up with Gwaine, and instead he sees
Gwaine and Gwen kissing. It isn't a conscious thought that sends the two of
them flying apart, though Merlin finds that he doesn't regret this particular
loss of magical control.
"Who said you were allowed to do that?"
Neither of them answers, though Gwaine gives him a defiant look as he stands
up. It's a look that Merlin hasn't seen in years, and for some reason it hurts
Merlin more than it angers him.
"Come, we're going to my chambers. Guinevere, go to Morgana and tell her what
happened so she can punish you herself."
He doesn't wait to see if she obeys, though he will make sure to ask Morgana
about it later. Right now, he needs to deal with Gwaine.
In the bedroom, Gwaine steps in close to Merlin and attempts to brush his lips
against Merlin's neck. Perhaps if Merlin were in a better mood, the move would
be enticing -- as it is, it only angers Merlin. His magic seems to take a life
of its own, flinging Gwaine onto the bed.
"Don't think I'll forgive you so easily!"
Gwaine grunts as he attempts to sit up, only to be stopped by Merlin's magic.
And this-- this is something Merlin has asked of his magic, he realizes. He
wants to keep Gwaine on the bed, and his magic is obeying him. A rush of
arousal washes over Merlin, mingling with the anger.
"What did I do?" Gwaine asks, his voice wavering slightly.
"You're mine! You don't get to kiss other people!" The idea that Gwaine didn't
know that is absurd. He belongs to Merlin, and Merlin has said time and again
that he does not share. Well, he has said it to Morgause, and to whatever
visiting nobles attempted to borrow Gwaine -- surely Gwaine caught on?
And then Gwaine laughs. It is a harsh laugh, unlike the usual sunny laughter
Merlin has grown used to.
"What-- why are you laughing? Stop laughing!" Merlin gets on the bed and
straddles Gwaine's hips, places his hands on Gwaine's shoulders.
The laughter settles into a chuckle. "That's rich. You're just like the other
sorcerers."
"What?"
Gwaine looks him straight in the eyes, and there is something sad about his
expression. "I thought you were better than them. 'Poor kid, it's not his
fault, he had some bad things happen to him and nobody gives a damn about him.'
But it turns out you've got the same attitude as them."
Merlin's control over his magic wavers. He can feel it trying to curl back
inside him, to escape from Gwaine's words, but he clamps down on his resolve
and keeps it in place. "Explain yourself!"
"Gwen is a slave, Merlin. And as you and all those sorcerers keep saying, we
slaves aren't people. I wasn't kissing another person, I was kissing property."
The magic shatters. Merlin leans back, mouth agape, and tries to find a way to
explain that no, this is different. Gwen and Gwaine aren't people, but they
still aren't allowed to be intimate with each other. There are rules. Morgause
has taught him over and over, made him memorize, and not anywhere in the rules
does it say that slaves are allowed to fornicate without permission.
Gwaine notices that he can move again, and he pushes Merlin away. Merlin slumps
to the bed.
The order to stay goes ignored.
--
A week later, Gwaine is gone.
Merlin is tempted to let him go, but his magic buzzes under his skin and
Morgana tells him exactly where to find Gwaine. He and Morgause set out to
recapture the runaway.
"It was really only a matter of time," Morgause says. "You never really broke
him."
He ignores her; it is better to concentrate on the magical trail in front of
them than to risk angering her with ill-thought words.
It's his own fault, for not taking better care of Gwaine. That is the lesson
that Gaius always tried to teach him: lack of magic does not mean lack of
feelings.
The trail leads to a shack. Something about it seems familiar, and the faint
buzzing of his magic turns stronger and stronger, until his hands are shaking
with suppressed power. His feet feel heavy, his breathing speeds up, his hair
stands on end.
He does not want to go into the shack.
"Come on," Morgause says, tugging at his arm. "He must be inside."
"No." His voice wavers as he says it, making him sound more like ten than
seventeen.
He takes a step back, and another, and maybe he would run back towards the
castle except something tightens around his throat, forces the air from his
lungs and brings him to his knees. Merlin tries to shout but can't do even
that.
Morgause approaches him, crouches down and runs a finger along his jaw. "You
are so much trouble."
This, this is even more familiar than the cottage. Panic builds up inside him,
crawls along his skin like a million tiny spiders. He tries to yell, but there
is no air in his lungs and he is starting to feel dizzy. He lashes out with his
arms -- all he manages to do is knock against Morgause's shoulder. His vision
starts to blur.
"Come along now," Morgause says. She starts walking towards the cabin, and
something tugs at him, dragging him along behind her. It feels familiar, this
strange pull, but he doesn't have time to analyze it. He needs to breathe, he
needs to not trip over his own feet.
The inside of the cabin looks almost the same as last time, only now there are
runes covering the walls. They are painted in bright yellow, almost gold.
Merlin tries to decipher them, but none of them make any sense.
A sharp gasp draws his attention. A body is strung up along the left wall,
writhing and swearing and -- it's Gwaine. He tries to focus, but he can't see
well enough to determine whether Gwaine is hurt or not.
"Let me go, you bitch," Gwaine yells. Morgause ignores him and pushes Merlin
into a chair in the center of the room, with runes spiraling out from that
spot.
He can breathe again. Merlin heaves, drawing in air, and hopes this isn't just
some short reprieve. "What--" he coughs, then tries again, "What do you want?"
Morgause looks at him for a brief moment, her lips turned up cruelly, almost
like when she decides to punish a slave. "Same thing I wanted last time."
For some reason, it is these words, more than any of her actions, that cause
Merlin's heart to tighten in his chest. It's true that he chafed under
Morgause's tutelage, but throughout the years, he always thought that he could
trust her. She was the one person who took interest in helping him control his
magic, who didn't brush him aside after he came back broken from the
kidnapping.
All of it, a lie. Merlin can't control his eyes tearing up again, though he
hopes Morgause will assume it is a lingering effect of the earlier choking.
He's been so stupid. How could he have forgotten that it was Morgause who tied
him to the chair and whispered dark magic into his ear, who hurt him in ways
that left him sobbing into his pillow night after night, years after it all?
The tenuous control he has over his magic falls away. He vaguely hopes that
whatever it chooses to do, it will spare Gwaine -- it isn't Gwaine's fault -
- but instead of rushing out like water escaping from a dam, it seems to hover
around him and trickle, slowly, towards Morgause.
"There we go. There wasn't enough magic last time for this to work," Morgause
says. Her eyes seem to follow the trail of his magic, and when Merlin focuses
his gaze on it, he realizes the path is the same as the runes painted onto the
floor.
Trying to stand proves futile: the magic that felt like a protective shield
before now keeps him firmly in place. His own magic is being used to keep him
captive. Merlin suddenly realizes why the faint pull dragging him into the
cottage felt so familiar -- it was his own magic, guiding him along. Controlled
by Morgause.
"Stop. Stop. STOP!" Merlin shouts, and all Morgause does is laugh.
"What do you plan on doing, boy? I've spent seven years making sure you can't
use your magic, ensuring that it listens to my call. You're even more powerless
now than you were last time."
A feeling of utter helplessness washes over him. No matter how hard he tries to
rein his magic in -- something he has never been good at -- all it does is
continue plodding forward, right into Morgause's open palms.
"Fighting doesn't help, Merlin," Gwaine says. His voice is raspy, and now that
Merlin can focus his gaze he sees that Gwaine has been beaten. "Fighting never
helps."
The fact that Gwaine, who has ignored orders and talked back time and again, is
telling Merlin to give up makes the finality of the situation even more
complete. Merlin's magic will go to Morgause, so she can do -- Merlin doesn't
even understand why she is doing this to him, and isn't that the worst. He
wishes he had been gifted with sight, like Morgana, so he could understand.
"Your slave finally gets it," Morgause says. "I'll have fun using him as the
final sacrifice for this ritual."
Gwaine spits, loudly. Merlin sees the blood and spit land on one of the lines
of the rune. Merlin feels something waver, just for a moment, and when he looks
up Morgause is frowning slightly.
The chain Gwaine is hanging from rattles as he starts swinging his legs. He
must be in a lot of pain -- it looks like his wounds are opening, letting fresh
blood seep out -- but he keeps going. Some blood splatters to the floor, and
Merlin feels another small, miniscule wave.
It's no use fighting. Gwaine stopped fighting when Merlin asked him to. But
he's still cheeky, has always questioned Merlin, and he somehow still manages
to bend the rules and come out on top.
Merlin can't fight the rules. But maybe he can use them to his advantage.
Morgause is pulling at his magic, at a slow pace, and wrapping it around
herself. He isn't strong enough to get it back from her.
He bites down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, and lets it collect in his
mouth. He swishes the blood and spit mixture for a moment, then spits onto the
line right underneath him. Merlin feels a slight surge in magic.
"What are you doing?" Morgause demands.
Merlin does it again, and again, until he thinks his mouth is completely dry.
Gwaine jostles his chains and draws Morgause's attention. She tells him to
stop, but she's as trapped as the two of them are -- if she moves, the magic
will flow wildly into the room.
And even as he notices his own magic reserves depleting -- something he's never
felt before, it is agony -- he senses the slight wiggle room that their actions
and Morgause's distraction are giving him.
It's a gamble, but there is no other way.
Merlin takes a deep breath and pushes.
All the magic within him jumps to obey. Now, it is not just a stream, but the
largest river, rushing down a waterfall in torrents. It slams into Morgause,
and she screams as she is thrown to the ground. Her body smudges the lines of
the runes further, and whatever magic she had managed to steal is now escaping
into the room. The sparse furnishings get flung around, the walls creak, the
chain holding Gwaine breaks into individual links.
This isn't control, not really, but it's freeing all the same. Merlin relishes
in the feeling, knowing that he is the eye of the storm and nothing can touch
him.
"No! Your magic, your destiny, is mine!"
Merlin sees Morgause attempt something, her lips are moving, but she can't
reach him. Nothing she says or does will ever hurt him again. The magic rushes
at her again, and he can sense how it is burning out every last connection she
has with his magic, with her own magic, with the world. She screams and
screams, and Merlin thinks it could be his lullaby on cold nights.
"Merlin! Merlin, stop it! You'll kill us both!"
Gwaine staggers towards him, anguish written clearly across his features. Magic
stops him short a foot away from Merlin, like a thick wall. "Please Merlin, let
me in. You did good, but it's over now."
There's a protest forming on his lips, because Merlin needs to be safe, and
there's still a world out there that let Morgause do this to him, but somehow
Gwaine's arm manages to reach through the magic and touch Merlin's shoulder. No
matter that Merlin had watched the hand reach for him, it's still a shock -
- Merlin suddenly finds himself overcome with fatigue and slumps forward, into
Gwaine's embrace. The torrent of magic seems to vanish into the air, only a
small seed of it left sitting inside Merlin.
Gwaine pets his hair and mumbles into his ear, "Merlin, I gotcha. Calm down."
The familiar words wring a completely different type of sob out of Merlin. How
had he missed this, all these years?
It's all right to cry, because Gwaine isn't just a slave. He's a friend.
--
Nimueh finds them. She tries to pry Merlin out of Gwaine's arms, but Merlin
shies away from her touch and Gwaine refuses to let go. In the end, she uses
her magic to patch up the two of them as best she can -- she's no healer -- and
helps them back to the castle.
They are greeted by Morgana. She hugs Merlin and kisses his forehead, then
ushers him to his chambers, where Gaius and Alice are waiting with potions and
healing spells. There is barely time to blink before Merlin finds himself
tucked under the bed covers, with salves applied to his wounds and magic
helping his strength recover.
They try to keep Gwaine out, despite Merlin's protests, until Nimueh motions
him in. "Please tend to his wounds as well," she says to Alice.
Gwaine doesn't waste time forgetting his place. "What the hell happened?" he
demands, even as Alice washes the welts across his back. Merlin wonders how
long Morgause tortured him. He must be worse off than Merlin, yet he isn't
complaining.
Morgana starts fidgeting with her dress and glancing up at Gaius and Alice.
Nimueh nods at them, and once they have deemed Gwaine properly tended to, they
bow and excuse themselves.
"I foresaw this," Morgana finally admits, "and I am so sorry that I couldn't
stop it from happening." Her guilt is genuine enough that Merlin can believe he
might still have an ally here.
Gwaine looks as if he wants to protest further, but Nimueh raises her hand to
warn him. "I told her to keep silent. I was suspicious of Morgause, but I had
no concrete proof that she was the one who kidnapped you the first time. Even
Morgana's vision couldn't reveal who was going to be the culprit."
The memory sends a shudder through Merlin. "Why did she... she said something
about wanting my destiny, but I don't understand."
"Your magic is tied to the land. She thought that if she could transfer it to
herself, she would gain power and be the one to fulfill the prophecy."
Both Merlin and Gwaine turn their gaze on Morgana.
"Emrys will rule over Albion," she says, her words near whispered. Still, they
seem to echo in the room.
The reason Nimueh and Sigan took so much interest in Merlin. The reason why
Morgause tried to steal his magic. The reason why Morgana seemed at times
worried for him, at times scared of him.
"Out. All of you, out."
Merlin closes his eyes and slumps back into the bed. He hears them leaving; he
wants nothing more than to be alone and process what happened. He doesn't think
he'll be able to sleep anyway, not with the memories of before blurring so
strongly with the memories of the current day. He can't get the image of Gwaine
strung up and bleeding out of his mind; he can't shake the feeling of ghost
hands holding him in place.
The mattress shifts underneath him and Merlin's eyes fly open. Gwaine is
settling in next to him. "I'm here. You can hold me, or I can just lie here.
But I'm not leaving you."
Merlin is too exhausted to respond, too exhausted to even cry (though his
vision blurs a bit). He pulls Gwaine into his embrace, and hopes it is answer
enough.
He wonders what it says about him, that he is so dependent on Gwaine. But he
needs this feeling of safety Gwaine gives him, and he is never going to let it
go. That, at least, he can control.
End Notes
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