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His breathing was ragged, his heartbeat in his ears. Merlin had needed to take himself off into one of the Hold's many dark corners, cover his ears and crouch to gather his breathing and his thoughts.
He had known this day would come; he had known for a long time now. How many times had he traced the mark at the base of his throat, how many times had he pictured that blond hair and strong build in the eye of his mind? Knowing it would be the end of all he held dear, in one way or another. It was why he was here. It had been in the cards of fate ever since he was taken by the Keepers after his mother passed and then raised inside the Hold.
The things he knew, the power he wielded, all harnessed and mastered for this moment. Could he actually go through with it, he wasn’t so sure.
Footsteps managed to pierce past the rushing and ringing in his ears. Merlin went so still one might think he wasn’t breathing. He didn’t want to be caught having a moment of weakness. He learnt a long time ago to never show his faults and flaws, he had learnt to stay stoic and keep everything bottled up. Like now, however, it exploded over, and he had to work overtime to not be discovered.
That was until he recognised the rhyme and the sounds of those leather boots on the cold stone floor. He allowed himself to breathe loudly because Gwaine would find him here anyway. The only person he trusted in this place. His only true friend.
Gwaine didn’t say anything as he approached, he sat down next to Merlin and waited for Merlin to be able to talk without gulping for air.
When he did and Merlin had slumped back against the wall, he said, “You received your assignment then.”
Merlin let out a laugh which held no mirth and only pitiful venom, his head falling backwards.
“I don’t think I can do this…” Merlin said to the ceiling. Never had Merlin failed an assignment, he was one of the Keepers’ favourites and the Hold's best assassin, and he was only sixteen summers old.
Gwaine hummed, pulled out one of the multiple daggers he kept hidden on his body, and twirled it in his hands. “Which will you choose? Assassinate the king or that princess prince of Camelot's?” Gwaine asked.
Merlin’s eyes stung. He hadn’t cried since the day his mother passed away, but this… It hurt on a deeper level, deep in his soul. His heart was crying out, and his brain was telling him to not do it, knowing the consequences. The Keepers didn’t care, they could see Merlin growing soft, they were losing their hold on him so had tasked him with his final assignment. Depending on his choices, it would define the rest of his life.
“I can’t,” Merlin choked out.
Kill the king and if the prince found out who had done it…
If Merlin killed the prince… it would be his own death sentence.
He couldn't count the number of times the Keepers had reminded him of his purpose, of his fate. His mark had sealed his fate and the Keepers kept it.
“It’s either one of them, you, or…” Gwaine didn’t need to finish, Merlin knew what the alternative was. His little sister. They had taken her at the same time as Merlin but she had been so young and they had placed her in the care of a family who took care of her. She was not safe though, one word and her life would be forfeit because of Merlin's failures.
Merlin nodded his head, bowed his head and let the tears fall for the first time in ten years.
Kill or be killed or be the reason for a kill.
He knew what he had to do.