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“Merlin! Would you hurry up? We don’t have all day!”
Merlin huffed as he lugged the equipment toward the training grounds. Arthur, as usual, left the job to Merlin to carry the weapons. All of them. At once.
Too trusting he is, Merlin thought bitterly, one of these days he might just use one of these weapons when Arthur isn’t looking-
“Merlin!”
Merlin set the shield and pack down, beginning to organize the weapons on top of the bench. He glanced up to see the rest of the knights arrive, and they each said their greetings to Merlin as they passed; Gwaine stopping to pat him on the back. Giving everything one last look over, Merlin turned to where Arthur was standing on the field.
“What will it be, my lord?” Merlin asked tiredly, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone. Arthur preened at him, though, enjoying the rise he was getting out of his servant.
“I think we should start with dagger practice. What do you say, Leon?” Arthur questioned, turning to his knight. Merlin was too far away to hear the response, but he could make out Leon’s nod. He picked up three of Arthur’s daggers and hurried over to present them. Arthur took one, and Merlin stepped back with the other two.
Arthur shifted his feet and readied his stance, his arm positioned with the blade above his head. He eyed the target for a moment before pulling back and throwing it overhead. The dagger soared through the air, hitting the center with a satisfying thunk. Onlookers clapped for the prince as he glanced at Merlin with a smirk. Merlin nodded his head slowly at Arthur, stepping forward to give him the second one.
Arthur repeated the motion, the second dagger hitting the wood right next to the first.
More clapping echoed throughout the yard, and a few knights hooted. They were right to, Merlin thought. Arthur trained every day for as long as Merlin had known him. Hell, they had met when Arthur was training. For all his efforts, he deserved praise. It was impressive; no one could deny that. Merlin certainly wouldn’t, except -
“I never miss,” Arthur poked Merlin in the arm with a cocky grin as he accepted the last dagger. “Are you taking notes, Merlin? Maybe one day, you’ll be able to hit a target within two inches of you.” Arthur winked at him and turned back toward the target.
Merlin rolled his eyes at the prince’s taunts, watching Arthur take his time with his set up. He quirked an eyebrow at a sudden idea, waiting for the precise moment to-
As Arthur let the knife go, Merlin focused on it, using his magic to push it up and over the target. Everyone’s eyes followed it as it flung somewhere passed the line of trees. Merlin grinned.
“Never miss, huh?” He teased, but Merlin’s joy was short-lived, watching Arthur’s narrowed eyes fall on him.
“Well, that is why we practice Merlin. To get better at things. Just like how you are practicing fetch, like the good little dog you are,” Arthur gave him a tight menacing smile, but his eyes sparkled with humor. Merlin only rolled his eyes at the prince, starting off in the direction his magic had thrown it. Lancelot gave him a small knowing smile and a soft pat on the shoulder as he walked by, and Merlin couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled on his lips.
Merlin trudged over to the edge of the forest, giving one look back over his shoulder in time to see Arthur’s gaze following him. The look on the prince’s face was puzzling, watching Merlin with a concerned fondness that made a fuzzy feeling grow in Merlin’s chest. Arthur blinked suddenly, seeing Merlin look at him, and the expression faded, replaced with a blush across his cheeks. Arthur made a shooing gesture with his hand for Merlin to get on with it, and Merlin chuckled before turning back and walking into the woods.
Merlin searched the ground, frowning slightly the deeper he went. He was sure he hadn’t sent it that far in. He started to feel around for it with his magic when the sound of a branch snapping startled him.
“Hello?” Merlin inquired. He couldn’t fathom why anyone would be out in the woods on this side of the castle. He took another step before freezing, seeing a movement from behind a tree. “Come out. I know you’re there.”
Merlin held his breath as a tall dark-haired man stepped into view. He was wearing a monotone of browns and dark greens, instantly reminding Merlin of the druids. He stepped forward with his hands splayed up in defeat.
“Who are you?” Merlin demanded, frowning at the man. “What are you doing here?”
The man did not answer; he just continued to stalk towards him. Merlin found himself taking a step back, raising his hand. He readied his magic, tense with the instinct to throw the man backward.
“What are you-” but Merlin never finished.
A force clutched at Merlin and threw him back. He barely had time even to register what had happened before his body struck a tree. Merlin’s head impacted harshly, and he saw nothing but darkness for a moment. When he came to, he was aware of the ache in his side and a pounding in his head. He opened his eyes with a groan and gasped to see the man standing over him. The man’s black eyes bore into him with an unsettling intensity.
“Yes, I agree, Melehan. The serving boy will do just perfectly for the spell,” came a woman’s voice from off to the side. A force pulled Merlin’s body upright, his back against the tree. The world spun slightly, and he could feel nausea building in his throat. “Tie him up.”
Melehan spoke, but Merlin couldn't make it out. Before he could utter a retort, something began to slither around Merlin’s body, making him jump. He looked down to see ropes wrapping around his arms and torso, grunting in pain as they tightened uncomfortably.
“Snug?”
Merlin looked up to see the woman staring at him with a conniving smirk. Her blue eyes were startlingly bright despite the dark look they held. She wore clothes of the same colors as the man, her blond hair pinned up in a swept of wavy curls. Merlin blinked at her, trying to focus on breathing through the confining restraints.
“You are the prince’s manservant, aren’t you?” She inspected him, pinching Merlin’s chin between her fingers, and moving his head from side to side. Merlin grunted again, the movement making the throbbing in his head worse. “We do appreciate your help. You will make this very easy for us.”
“I won’t tell you anything,” Merlin spat, the anger boiling up inside him.
“That is quite alright. You can keep your words,” the woman’s eyes glimmered as she held up her hand. Merlin’s eyes flickered to the object dangling from her fist. A long leather cord oscillated rapidly, being tugged down by the weight of a pendant. It was a blur to Merlin at first, but as it slowed, he could see it more distinctly.
A light grey stone, in the shape of an oval. Merlin peered a little closer and made out the symbols that were etched on to its face. Three interlocked circles, the middle one slightly larger than the other two. Merlin frowned, remembering something Gaius had told him about interlocking rings.
“Yes, I imagine this might be very confusing for you, as someone who works for the magic hating family of Camelot. Luckily you don’t need to know the intricacies of magic for this spell. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty,” she hummed, the condescending tone in her voice making Merlin bristle. “Melehan? Are you ready?”
Merlin watched the man hold up another cord and slip it onto his neck. Merlin tried to see what symbol was on his stone but was blocked as the woman looped her cord over his head. He looked down frantically at the pendant, now resting on his neckerchief, and began to panic.
“No!” Merlin squirmed in protest, but the ropes around him tightened in response, making him gulp for air. The woman tsked at him before raising her hands, one toward Melehan and the other toward Merlin.
“Rhwymo.”
Her eyes flashed gold, and the pendants glowed simultaneously. Merlin gasped, an unsettling tingle passing over him as the spell cast. He shuddered and twisted, his magic trying to counteract the spell, but something was holding it back. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing for it to be over.
And then it stopped.
“There, all done.” Merlin opened his eyes to see the woman back away and move to where Melehan stood. Glancing around slowly, he noticed the open forest and recognized the path he had taken. He breathed heavily, still unable to take deep breaths due to the ropes. His limbs felt tired from the strain and the pain in his head unrelenting. But they were busy with something, and now was his chance.
Merlin scrunched his knees up, quickly digging the heels of his boots into the leafy ground and pushing himself upwards. He stumbled, the dizziness disorienting, but didn’t stop, his legs moving on instinct toward the direction of the training field.
He bumped into a tree, jostling his body hard and winced. His feet couldn’t seem to understand how to walk straight, but it didn’t matter. Merlin could see the opening of the training field now through the trees. He picked up speed, ignoring the ropes that pulled tighter around him. They didn’t matter, because now Merlin could see Arthur. He was so close.
He was going to make it.
Pain pierced through Merlin’s leg, and he cried out, collapsing forward into the grass right before the edge of the treeline. He rolled onto his back, his eyes pricking with tears, and reached for the side of his leg, searching for the offending object. He was just barely able to stretch his fingers around the weapon’s haft, and Merlin immediately recognized the detailed ridges of Arthur’s dagger. He felt around the area it was buried into, feeling his trousers soaked in blood already.
“Arthur!” He wailed, begging for his friends to hear him. “Help!”
“He can’t hear you.” Merlin glanced up to see the sorceress standing over him, her eyes glowing mockingly. “My spell prevents anyone from hearing you. It’s just you and me now.” Merlin felt dread sinking into his chest. He glanced around, confused.
“Where’s your friend?” Merlin whimpered dumbly. The woman’s smile was vicious.
“Merlin! There you are!”
Merlin’s head jerked toward the voice, relief washing over him. Arthur, Arthur, was here. Arthur had found him. Arthur was going to save him.
“Sorry, Sire. I couldn’t find the dagger.”
What the hell? Was that his voice?
Merlin glanced up to see...himself. The not-Merlin was dressed the same as Merlin, his red neckerchief, his tan coat, blue tunic, brown trousers, and boots. Merlin sagged, suppressing a sob in his chest as he realized.
The binding spell.
“Seriously, Merlin?” Arthur shook his head, but there was an alleviation to his voice that made Merlin's heart clench. “Just come out of there before you get lost yourself too.”
“Arthur was about to send a patrol to look for you,” Gwaine grinned, ducking a swat from the prince.
“Was not,” Arthur grumbled, glancing back at the not-Merlin. “Don’t even think about letting that go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sire,” Not- Merlin answered with a grin. His grin. Arthur returned it with a small one, the kind that always made Merlin’s heart stutter. Merlin watched the three of them walk away toward the castle, leaving him behind. He closed his eyes.
Suddenly, a firm hand twisted and yanked the dagger out of his leg at a terrible angle. Merlin let out a shriek of pain, his head falling back as he heaved.
“While Melehan is doing his part of the plan,” she crouched down next to Merlin, tilting her head at him with another wicked smile. “We are going to have so much fun.”