Journey Through A Broken Soul - Chapter 07
May. 1st, 2011 06:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyxelestiaTitle: Journey Through a Broken Soul
Summary: It has been months since Arthur's capture and disappearance, and Merlin has spent that time looking for him - and finally found. What he found, though, was a broken prince.
Rating: R
Word Count: 4000
Pairings/Character: Arthur/Merlin, Lancelot
Warnings/Content: Violence, (past) non-con, mental trauma, mentions of slavery
Beta: none D:
Notes: Because I couldn't update Beside Me, I bring you this instead.
As of now, this is an AU of Merlin. I imagine that it takes place post-S3, with the exception of changes to Episode 313. The change is basically just the very last scene. In canon, it's shown that though they are commoners the four new knights were accepted into the knighthood. Here, I'm imagining that Uther still didn't allow it, so the men left to wait for Arthur to become king.
~*~
Master Post
<< Previous Chapter
Arthur knew he was broken, but he would like to think he wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong with the way Merlin and Lancelot were acting the next morning, all hushed and rushed and secretive.
He had been preparing himself to ask what was wrong when Merlin started trying to pretend like everything was normal.
He had to fight down the urge to cry at the realization that Merlin was lying to him. Why?!
Then he remembered that for the four years they'd known each other before Arthur was stolen, Merlin had lied to him about his magic, and Morgana and, and-
-he hoped Merlin was never a liar in love.
When Merlin dressed him in the light chainmail, he wanted to desperately to throw it off - but Merlin's smile at the sight of him made him stop. He couldn't bear the weight of the sword to ask what was wrong, but could bear the weight of the chainmail to make Merlin smile, no matter how wrong, wrong, wrong it was on him.
He wanted so desperately for this to be right.
He didn't miss that they already had all the supplies they were supposed to have bought today, and all packed up, too. Why did they want to leave so quickly?
The need to ask, the desire, was there. As he ran his fingers over his sword, he tried to remember his life before the chains, tried to pretend he was Prince Arthur. He even lifted up his sword-
-and dropped it. The alien strain in his muscles reminded him the sword was no longer his, no longer a part of him. His body was made for chains, now, not chainmail.
"Let's have breakfast," Merlin said. "We can be on the road before sun fully rises."
Why? Why so fast, too fast? Why the desperation? Why the lies? Why, why, why?!
But he wasn't Prince Arthur, anymore, so he didn't ask.
Merlin cheerfully ushered Arthur to the dining area of the inn. The smile was forced. Arthur knew all of Merlin's smiles, his real smiles, and this wasn't one of them.
They had a breakfast of porridge with honey in it, and some cheese, and Arthur let himself be distracted by the decadent breakfast, as he had every morning since Merlin had rescued him.
With a few exceptions-
-desperate, cowering, shameful exceptions-
-food this good was a luxury gone un-experienced by him since he was stolen.
Their breakfast was oddly silent, devoid of Merlin's usual talkative speech, so Arthur listened around himself, a habit borne of a lifetime on alert that had served him well in chains.
"...new moon could mean better rainfall for the western fields..."
"...the Picts are at war, they can call it what they want but it's war all the same..."
"...birthed twins successfully, the mare and the foals are both alive and well..."
"...baby didn't look like anything like him, poor lad, so embarrassing, it must be..."
"...can have twenty men ready for sale by the afternoon..."
The last one made Arthur pause, and he turned his head and listened in to that conversation more closely.
"Are you sure? Johnathon once made a similar promise - only got himself half as many men there as he promised, and a bunch of them were pleasure slaves he was trying to sell off as laborers!"
Arthur was frozen, shocked, as the realization sunk in. Slavers.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked, concern in his voice.
"What, and he couldn't just sell them off as pleasure slaves?"
"It was summer and out in the middle farms, you know how the demand is there and then..."
Merlin and Lancelot were pale, exchanging glances as they realized what Arthur was listening to.
They knew...something. They weren't surprised they were more concerned about a stupid, broken prince than the men who were about to be sold off, slaves, things, no longer even human-
you're mine now, pretty golden boy, all mine to play with, do whatever I want to you, I own you, now-
What weren't they telling him?
Why?
"Well be at the harbor at noon and I can show you, get some prices down, eh?"
"Arthur," Merlin said. "Let's go."
No.
He slowly looked into Merlin's eyes, and when he and Merlin were staring directly at each other, Merlin's eyes widened as his face paled.
"No, Arthur, no, we can't..."
Why?!
Merlin pleaded silently, but Arthur stood, looking only to see that Lancelot was on Merlin's side before pushing away from the table.
He may not be Prince Arthur anymore, but he still couldn't ignore this. With or without their help, he had to do something about this.
He stormed out to the stables to see the innkeeper's son just finishing tacking up the horses, getting ready to leave the stable.
"Arthur!"
He ignored Merlin's shouting as he pulled off his chainmail - it was weighing him down too much, and whatever it was he did, he would need all the strength he could get, meager as he knew it would be. It was all wrong on him, anyway - he was no longer important enough to need that protection.
"Arthur!"
He pulled it off and whirled around to see Merlin standing there, distraught. "Arthur, you can't - you don't stand a chance."
"Why?"
There, he said it - he finally asked. His knuckles were white as his fingers twisted so tightly into the chainmail that his whole arm was shaking, but he asked it.
Merlin opened and closed his mouth and in the silence, Arthur asked again, "Why?", shaking the chainmail for emphasis.
"Because this entire town is a slaver's town."
Both men turned to see Lancelot standing there after having spoken. The man sent an apologetic look toward Merlin before facing Arthur again, grim countenance and his previous words working together to freeze Arthur's blood as his heart plummeted in realization.
"The entire town is run and controlled by slavers. The slavers themselves outnumber us probably a dozen to one, and combined with their men, guards, and everyone else they're keeping in their grasp - it's hundreds to one. Everyone here is too sacred or too well bribed to do anything about it. Our best bet is to just leave."
"No!"
Even as he shocked himself and the others with his shout, Arthur didn't want to take it back. Arthur could not and would live with himself if he were to leave all these people behind.
"What would you have us do?" Merlin asked. "What can we do?"
Arthur stopped and stared.
"Can't...we can..." Arthur stared at them "There has to be something we can do-"
"If there were, I would!" Merlin shouted. "Do you really think that I want to leave all these people here?"
"Apparently," Arthur said, darkly.
Merlin looked on the verge of crying again, but with forced strength, he said, "If I could save them, I would. But I can't."
"You set an entire city free-"
"-to create a distraction!" Merlin said. "Most of those slaves were probably recaptured or killed by the end of that day...and anyway, I had to spend a week there, casting spells all over the place, over everything I could find, to make sure it would work, and even then, not everyone or everything was freed - maybe a little over half, at best. And almost all of them are back in chains or dead, now."
Arthur shut his eyes, feeling the weight of the shackles on his wrist, the bite of the whip on his back, the burn in his muscles from his labor, and the shattering of his heart when he was used as little more than a warm, pleasurable body.
"There has to be something..." he pleaded.
Merlin slowly shook his head.
Lancelot stepped forward. "I'm sorry, but...I saw the harbor last night, and there are slave caravans everywhere...and guards to match. There is nothing we would be able to do."
No...there had to be...
There was always a way - he just had to find it.
Tightening his hold on the chainmail, he said, "Take me."
Both men look at him, bewildered.
"Take me to the harbor."
"Arthur," Merlin said slowly, placating. "I really don't think that's a good idea."
"I don't care," Arthur said, dropping the chainmail from the force of his shaking. "Take me to see them - prove to me that there is nothing we can do."
Merlin looked to Lancelot for help, but he just gave Merlin a resigned look, before nodding at Arthur. Merlin stared helplessly, even as he magicked the chainmail into a saddle bag.
Lancelot and Arthur headed out of the stables, and Merlin reluctantly followed.
~*~
Miles of chains.
That was Arthur's first horrified impression as they walked along the port harbor. The town was to his left and the sea to his right, the street crowded with merchants, townsfolks, and slaves. Arthur's hair swayed around his face from the strong breeze, bringing with them the smell of sea, fish, and the hint of blood. His skin chilled, and not just from the proximity to the water and wind.
The walks were lined with caravans full of slaves shackled to the bars, and each other, huddled together clumps of despair. There were guards and watch men by each one, all heavily armed. There were spiked barricades across many of the alleyways leading into the town, and multiple carts across the larger streets.
This entire port was one giant prison, the streets filled with freemen rushing by and trying not to look at the slaves.
He stopped before a caravan full of mostly women and a few men and boys - their role as pleasure slaves painfully clear from the scant clothing they wore.
Even without the shivering, Arthur knew how cold they were. He used to be cold all the time in caravans when he was a pleasure slave.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked hesitantly.
He didn't respond, continuing to stare up and down the port harbor.
"Arthur?" Merlin prodded again.
He took a deep breath and took one last critical look around.
He was no longer a prince or a knight - but he hadn't forgotten how to be one. He had been trained to kill since birth, and even if he was too weak to be a true warrior now, he remembered everything he had ever learned.
Whirling on his heel, he said, "Let's go."
Merlin and Lancelot followed behind him, but he was too busy casting an analyzing gaze around the street.
All the strengths of the area were dressed up and exaggerated, but they still did nothing to hide all the weakness, especially for someone who knew how to look for them.
While the barricades were made of menacing spiked logs, they were still held together sloppily with poorly hammered nails, mottled tree sap, or even simple rope. The gates were better built, but the toll takers were not strict, nor careful, about who or what went through them. Though they didn't allow anyone to talk to the slaves, some guards turned a blind eye to a few sympathetic souls handing slaves small bits of food after inspecting it for anything suspicious. The guards themselves were not any type of trained soldier like in Camelot, but just random hired hands given weapons, and not even half were bearing them as if they knew what they were doing.
The slave caravans themselves were shoddy, the cages badly wrought, and many of the slaves were bound only in rope, and not irons.
And only some of the slaves looked dead in their eyes.
These were all advantages he - they - could use.
...assuming Merlin and Lancelot didn't abandon him. Again.
~*~
"We need to stay another night," Arthur said as they neared the inn.
"...why...?" Merlin asked. "You saw the place, there is nothing we can do-"
"Yes there is," Arthur said, running his hands over the chainmail in the saddlebag once they reached the stables. He didn't think he'd be able to wear it again, not yet. He wasn't strong enough for that. "It'll just take a lot more planning.
Merlin and Lancelot just stared at him.
"...I may not be a knight, anymore, but I remember how to be one," he said with as much false strength as he could muster. There was silence as the two men stared, silence save the noise of the tavern and waves around them. Arthur could swear he could hear the clanging of the chains in the distant, even though he knew logically they were too far from the harbor, and that there was too much city life between them, for it to be possible.
He heard it anyway.
"You are still a knight," Merlin said, softly, breaking Arthur out of his momentary reverie. "I know you're badly hurt, I know you feel weak, and I know how frustrated you are. But being a knight is more than just fighting. It's about being good in the soul and strong in the heart-"
"None of which I am," Arthur said quietly, turning away.
"Yes you are-"
"No I'm not!"
If Merlin knew the things Arthur had done over the last ten months...if he knew just how much he lost the High King Merlin so believed in...
Arthur couldn't bear to lose Merlin.
Again, silence, as Arthur stared down at the saddlebag, the chainmail, his feet, anything but Merlin, before finally he whirled around to stare desperately right at the man, whose eyes were clouded over in confusion.
Lancelot looked between them, then said, "Shall I book a room for the night?"
"Yes," Arthur said.
Lancelot nodded, then, looking between Arthur and Merlin, he added, "You two really need to talk this out."
Then he was gone, leaving Arthur alone with Merlin, and already he wanted the knight back, if only so he wouldn't have to talk to Merlin.
For several moments, he and Merlin just stood there - apparently, neither one was sure what to do, what to say.
Then Merlin stepped forward, slightly, towards Arthur, careful but determined, and Arthur was caught between wanting to mirror the action, and wanting to step back.
"What happened to you?" Merlin asked gently, steeping closer, tentatively, as if Arthur were a frightened animal. He certainly felt like one.
"You don't want to know, Merlin," Arthur said, stepping away, pressing his back against Hengroen's warm neck. Hengroen helpfully snorted in support.
"Yes, I do," Merlin said, now standing still, not coming closer, though Arthur could see clearly that he wanted to. But he was glad that Merlin was staying away.
"No, Merlin, you..." How the hell was he supposed to explain this? Especially to someone like Merlin? "You have no idea, what being a slave is like...in order to survive...I'm not...I'm not that good now, I'm not even sure what that means anymore! And I'm definitely not strong of heart, anymore...I'm..." He shuddered, turning away again, pressing his face against Hengroen's neck, his hand on the horse's shoulder, dug into the fur and clinging almost desperately to Hengroen's strong, warm frame. He couldn't do this, but he sodding had to, and he hated it. "I've had to do a lot to survive, and...and..." Not just survive. Get ahead. "Whatever I once was, I'm not anymore."
"How?" Merlin said, his voice sounding closer than before, but at least not too close. "If you're so weak, then why are you standing here planning a way to free an entire slave town of its slaves? How is it that if you're so weak, you've been fighting against leaving with me and Lancelot all morning just on the off chance you even can save all these people?"
Arthur shut his eyes.
"...I need your help," he said softly. "I won't...I don't think I can do this without you..." He swallowed. "Without you...maybe even with you, I, I'm just...I'm nothing, now. I don't...I can't be a prince, let alone a High King." He paused, took a deep breath, two. "But I can't bear to lose you, either."
"What makes you think you will?" Merlin asked from behind him. "I'll always be here."
Not if you knew just what I have done as a slave.
Arthur wanted that revelation to be never, but he knew the real world didn't work like that. Maybe now would be best, so he wouldn't get used to having Merlin around, again. Now, it would be just a little less painful to lose Merlin. Because he would, one way or another, he would lose Merlin.
"I've done things worth only shame as a slave," Arthur said, slowly turning to face a confused, concerned, and slightly horrified Merlin. "None of which are befitting a High King."
"Like what, Arthur?" Merlin asked, a little more force in his tone and face. Arthur fought the urge to flinch away from that. "What could you have possibly done that, in that situation, was so horrific?"
"Do you want..." Arthur choked. "I was all muscle and brawn, Merlin, I started out my slavery as a laborer - do you want to know how I ended up a pleasure slave?"
Merlin's confused frown deepened, and Arthur turned away again, shutting his eyes and finding solace and comfort in Hengroen's warm fur, familiar to him from years of riding strong and together. Hengroen nudged him, as if encouragingly, and Arthur took a deep breath filled with the scents of fresh hay, stable oils, tack, leather, and mostly the smell of Hengroen, and spoke.
"Their biggest way to keep us in line...is turn slaves against each other. Give out 'treats' for sucking up to them, rewards...a little extra food, one less chore, the better spot in the holding cells, a blanket...we'll do anything for anything." He felt a drop trail down his cheek. "Offer up our bodies just for a bit of bread. That was what I did. I was...I just went up to my owner at the time, begged him to let me have him fuck for a piece of bread."
Silence, save Merlin's heavy breathing.
"He let me. He took my mouth, my arse, humiliated me, and that night I basked in the glory of my extra piece of bread. That was how it started. I did that over and over again, a sweetmeat, a blanket, one less chore to do...then he just kept me in his bed, giving me only enough food to survive, trying to make me weak, and make me thin, and...when it came time to sell me, he sold me off as a pleasure slave instead of a laborer. I've been one ever since then."
He heard a hitch in Merlin's breathing, and turned to see Merlin crying, hands raised helplessly, as if for a hug but not quite.
Arthur eyed them warily, as Merlin said, "Arthur, you...you were desperate and did what you had to do-"
"But I didn't have to do that," Arthur said bitterly. "I wouldn't have needed that extra food, I could have gone without the blanket, or...but I did it anyway. Tell me, Merlin, how is that good? How is that honorable?"
"That's desperation, Arthur," Merlin said, voice thick, speaking around a tears' lump in his throat. Arthur could tell. He knew Merlin's voice well. He knew Merlin's body and his face and his voice and his hands and his lips and his eyes - the only thing he didn't know was Merlin, himself.
"That's only the beginning of it, Merlin," Arthur said. "I...I almost never even shared what I got with the other slaves. I..." He turned to press his face back into Hengroen's shoulder. "I stopped fighting, Merlin. I stopped trying to escape, and I just...I just gave up. That's not what a knight does, and not what a prince does."
"The entire system of slavery is designed to break you, Arthur," Merlin said. "Slavery's been around longer than the knight's code!"
Was that supposed to comfort him?
"They have had more time to get this down, to break people into things..." Arthur jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, whirling around and away to see Merlin standing right there. "Arthur...you're here now. And whatever you say about having given up, you've gotten that fight in you back." Merlin gestured out the stable door. "This is a slaver's town and you are still going to wander out there and free everyone just because you know what's right. That's not what someone who has truly given up does, Arthur."
Arthur stared at Merlin, who took that as a sign to continue talking.
"No one can be always strong, no one. We all have our weak moments...and that is why we have each other, to depend on each other..." Merlin swallowed. "Your father tried to be strong. Look what happened when he lost Ygraine - he went mad. Gwaine is an alcoholic vagabond without Elyan there to keep him in line. Lancelot is lost without someone, you or Gwen or even sodding Percival to give him some direction." Merlin paused, swallowed, and said, "And Arthur...my soul would be lost and desolate without you. None of us are nothing, no one is nothing, but together, we can made an extraordinary whole that can take on the world." Merlin smiled. "And that includes you."
"You..." Arthur wondered when he his mouth had gone dry. "You would...you would do fine without me, Merlin. Be better off without me...if I died-"
"No!" Merlin said, looking horrified at the thought, stepping closer, gripping Arthur's forearms. Arthur didn't pull away this time, instead stared down at Merlin's hands on his shirt, his flesh. "Arthur, please - we need to work together and have each other. I cannot go on without you. Please...you have weak moments, out of a lifetime of strength. You are allowed to have them. We need each other."
There was silence, and Arthur slowly looked up to see Merlin staring at him in earnest desperation.
"You are a good man at heart, Arthur," Merlin whispered. "And that's where it matters."
With a desolate cry, Arthur lunged forward and pulled Merlin to him, pressing himself against him, trying desperately to make them one person.
"You won't...why are you with me?" Arthur asked. "Why me?"
Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, and Arthur leaned into the touch, pressing his face into Merlin's neck as Merlin stroked his hair and rubbed his back.
"Do you remember-" he murmured quietly into Arthur's ear. "The Fisher King's land, that bridge keeper, your quest? Strength, Courage, Magic? You are courage. I'm magic. And Gwaine, Lancelot, Gwen, all of them - they are all strength. Together, we will one day rule Camelot, and unite Albion, and, and..." He shook his head. "But no - more importantly, together, today - we'll go and piss off these slavers and free these people and do what's right, because we can. Courage, Magic, Strength - you are not alone, Arthur, and never will be, never again."
Arthur gripped Merlin tightly, clinging to him.
"Do you promise?" he asked, lifting his head to look at Merlin.
Merlin looked back, his deep, clear eyes brimming with a love Arthur knew would overwhelm them both, and for the life of him, he would gladly drown in it.
"Promise," Merlin said, before leaning forward, and pressing his lips to Arthur's, sealing his promise with a kiss.
And Arthur kissed back.
~*~
Master Post
Notes: Comments are ♥! Reviews, praise, criticism, even just telling me you read it at all - everything is welcome. :D
Summary: It has been months since Arthur's capture and disappearance, and Merlin has spent that time looking for him - and finally found. What he found, though, was a broken prince.
Rating: R
Word Count: 4000
Pairings/Character: Arthur/Merlin, Lancelot
Warnings/Content: Violence, (past) non-con, mental trauma, mentions of slavery
Beta: none D:
Notes: Because I couldn't update Beside Me, I bring you this instead.
As of now, this is an AU of Merlin. I imagine that it takes place post-S3, with the exception of changes to Episode 313. The change is basically just the very last scene. In canon, it's shown that though they are commoners the four new knights were accepted into the knighthood. Here, I'm imagining that Uther still didn't allow it, so the men left to wait for Arthur to become king.
<< Previous Chapter
Arthur knew he was broken, but he would like to think he wasn't stupid. He knew something was wrong with the way Merlin and Lancelot were acting the next morning, all hushed and rushed and secretive.
He had been preparing himself to ask what was wrong when Merlin started trying to pretend like everything was normal.
He had to fight down the urge to cry at the realization that Merlin was lying to him. Why?!
Then he remembered that for the four years they'd known each other before Arthur was stolen, Merlin had lied to him about his magic, and Morgana and, and-
-he hoped Merlin was never a liar in love.
When Merlin dressed him in the light chainmail, he wanted to desperately to throw it off - but Merlin's smile at the sight of him made him stop. He couldn't bear the weight of the sword to ask what was wrong, but could bear the weight of the chainmail to make Merlin smile, no matter how wrong, wrong, wrong it was on him.
He wanted so desperately for this to be right.
He didn't miss that they already had all the supplies they were supposed to have bought today, and all packed up, too. Why did they want to leave so quickly?
The need to ask, the desire, was there. As he ran his fingers over his sword, he tried to remember his life before the chains, tried to pretend he was Prince Arthur. He even lifted up his sword-
-and dropped it. The alien strain in his muscles reminded him the sword was no longer his, no longer a part of him. His body was made for chains, now, not chainmail.
"Let's have breakfast," Merlin said. "We can be on the road before sun fully rises."
Why? Why so fast, too fast? Why the desperation? Why the lies? Why, why, why?!
But he wasn't Prince Arthur, anymore, so he didn't ask.
Merlin cheerfully ushered Arthur to the dining area of the inn. The smile was forced. Arthur knew all of Merlin's smiles, his real smiles, and this wasn't one of them.
They had a breakfast of porridge with honey in it, and some cheese, and Arthur let himself be distracted by the decadent breakfast, as he had every morning since Merlin had rescued him.
With a few exceptions-
-desperate, cowering, shameful exceptions-
-food this good was a luxury gone un-experienced by him since he was stolen.
Their breakfast was oddly silent, devoid of Merlin's usual talkative speech, so Arthur listened around himself, a habit borne of a lifetime on alert that had served him well in chains.
"...new moon could mean better rainfall for the western fields..."
"...the Picts are at war, they can call it what they want but it's war all the same..."
"...birthed twins successfully, the mare and the foals are both alive and well..."
"...baby didn't look like anything like him, poor lad, so embarrassing, it must be..."
"...can have twenty men ready for sale by the afternoon..."
The last one made Arthur pause, and he turned his head and listened in to that conversation more closely.
"Are you sure? Johnathon once made a similar promise - only got himself half as many men there as he promised, and a bunch of them were pleasure slaves he was trying to sell off as laborers!"
Arthur was frozen, shocked, as the realization sunk in. Slavers.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked, concern in his voice.
"What, and he couldn't just sell them off as pleasure slaves?"
"It was summer and out in the middle farms, you know how the demand is there and then..."
Merlin and Lancelot were pale, exchanging glances as they realized what Arthur was listening to.
They knew...something. They weren't surprised they were more concerned about a stupid, broken prince than the men who were about to be sold off, slaves, things, no longer even human-
you're mine now, pretty golden boy, all mine to play with, do whatever I want to you, I own you, now-
What weren't they telling him?
Why?
"Well be at the harbor at noon and I can show you, get some prices down, eh?"
"Arthur," Merlin said. "Let's go."
No.
He slowly looked into Merlin's eyes, and when he and Merlin were staring directly at each other, Merlin's eyes widened as his face paled.
"No, Arthur, no, we can't..."
Why?!
Merlin pleaded silently, but Arthur stood, looking only to see that Lancelot was on Merlin's side before pushing away from the table.
He may not be Prince Arthur anymore, but he still couldn't ignore this. With or without their help, he had to do something about this.
He stormed out to the stables to see the innkeeper's son just finishing tacking up the horses, getting ready to leave the stable.
"Arthur!"
He ignored Merlin's shouting as he pulled off his chainmail - it was weighing him down too much, and whatever it was he did, he would need all the strength he could get, meager as he knew it would be. It was all wrong on him, anyway - he was no longer important enough to need that protection.
"Arthur!"
He pulled it off and whirled around to see Merlin standing there, distraught. "Arthur, you can't - you don't stand a chance."
"Why?"
There, he said it - he finally asked. His knuckles were white as his fingers twisted so tightly into the chainmail that his whole arm was shaking, but he asked it.
Merlin opened and closed his mouth and in the silence, Arthur asked again, "Why?", shaking the chainmail for emphasis.
"Because this entire town is a slaver's town."
Both men turned to see Lancelot standing there after having spoken. The man sent an apologetic look toward Merlin before facing Arthur again, grim countenance and his previous words working together to freeze Arthur's blood as his heart plummeted in realization.
"The entire town is run and controlled by slavers. The slavers themselves outnumber us probably a dozen to one, and combined with their men, guards, and everyone else they're keeping in their grasp - it's hundreds to one. Everyone here is too sacred or too well bribed to do anything about it. Our best bet is to just leave."
"No!"
Even as he shocked himself and the others with his shout, Arthur didn't want to take it back. Arthur could not and would live with himself if he were to leave all these people behind.
"What would you have us do?" Merlin asked. "What can we do?"
Arthur stopped and stared.
"Can't...we can..." Arthur stared at them "There has to be something we can do-"
"If there were, I would!" Merlin shouted. "Do you really think that I want to leave all these people here?"
"Apparently," Arthur said, darkly.
Merlin looked on the verge of crying again, but with forced strength, he said, "If I could save them, I would. But I can't."
"You set an entire city free-"
"-to create a distraction!" Merlin said. "Most of those slaves were probably recaptured or killed by the end of that day...and anyway, I had to spend a week there, casting spells all over the place, over everything I could find, to make sure it would work, and even then, not everyone or everything was freed - maybe a little over half, at best. And almost all of them are back in chains or dead, now."
Arthur shut his eyes, feeling the weight of the shackles on his wrist, the bite of the whip on his back, the burn in his muscles from his labor, and the shattering of his heart when he was used as little more than a warm, pleasurable body.
"There has to be something..." he pleaded.
Merlin slowly shook his head.
Lancelot stepped forward. "I'm sorry, but...I saw the harbor last night, and there are slave caravans everywhere...and guards to match. There is nothing we would be able to do."
No...there had to be...
There was always a way - he just had to find it.
Tightening his hold on the chainmail, he said, "Take me."
Both men look at him, bewildered.
"Take me to the harbor."
"Arthur," Merlin said slowly, placating. "I really don't think that's a good idea."
"I don't care," Arthur said, dropping the chainmail from the force of his shaking. "Take me to see them - prove to me that there is nothing we can do."
Merlin looked to Lancelot for help, but he just gave Merlin a resigned look, before nodding at Arthur. Merlin stared helplessly, even as he magicked the chainmail into a saddle bag.
Lancelot and Arthur headed out of the stables, and Merlin reluctantly followed.
Miles of chains.
That was Arthur's first horrified impression as they walked along the port harbor. The town was to his left and the sea to his right, the street crowded with merchants, townsfolks, and slaves. Arthur's hair swayed around his face from the strong breeze, bringing with them the smell of sea, fish, and the hint of blood. His skin chilled, and not just from the proximity to the water and wind.
The walks were lined with caravans full of slaves shackled to the bars, and each other, huddled together clumps of despair. There were guards and watch men by each one, all heavily armed. There were spiked barricades across many of the alleyways leading into the town, and multiple carts across the larger streets.
This entire port was one giant prison, the streets filled with freemen rushing by and trying not to look at the slaves.
He stopped before a caravan full of mostly women and a few men and boys - their role as pleasure slaves painfully clear from the scant clothing they wore.
Even without the shivering, Arthur knew how cold they were. He used to be cold all the time in caravans when he was a pleasure slave.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked hesitantly.
He didn't respond, continuing to stare up and down the port harbor.
"Arthur?" Merlin prodded again.
He took a deep breath and took one last critical look around.
He was no longer a prince or a knight - but he hadn't forgotten how to be one. He had been trained to kill since birth, and even if he was too weak to be a true warrior now, he remembered everything he had ever learned.
Whirling on his heel, he said, "Let's go."
Merlin and Lancelot followed behind him, but he was too busy casting an analyzing gaze around the street.
All the strengths of the area were dressed up and exaggerated, but they still did nothing to hide all the weakness, especially for someone who knew how to look for them.
While the barricades were made of menacing spiked logs, they were still held together sloppily with poorly hammered nails, mottled tree sap, or even simple rope. The gates were better built, but the toll takers were not strict, nor careful, about who or what went through them. Though they didn't allow anyone to talk to the slaves, some guards turned a blind eye to a few sympathetic souls handing slaves small bits of food after inspecting it for anything suspicious. The guards themselves were not any type of trained soldier like in Camelot, but just random hired hands given weapons, and not even half were bearing them as if they knew what they were doing.
The slave caravans themselves were shoddy, the cages badly wrought, and many of the slaves were bound only in rope, and not irons.
And only some of the slaves looked dead in their eyes.
These were all advantages he - they - could use.
...assuming Merlin and Lancelot didn't abandon him. Again.
"We need to stay another night," Arthur said as they neared the inn.
"...why...?" Merlin asked. "You saw the place, there is nothing we can do-"
"Yes there is," Arthur said, running his hands over the chainmail in the saddlebag once they reached the stables. He didn't think he'd be able to wear it again, not yet. He wasn't strong enough for that. "It'll just take a lot more planning.
Merlin and Lancelot just stared at him.
"...I may not be a knight, anymore, but I remember how to be one," he said with as much false strength as he could muster. There was silence as the two men stared, silence save the noise of the tavern and waves around them. Arthur could swear he could hear the clanging of the chains in the distant, even though he knew logically they were too far from the harbor, and that there was too much city life between them, for it to be possible.
He heard it anyway.
"You are still a knight," Merlin said, softly, breaking Arthur out of his momentary reverie. "I know you're badly hurt, I know you feel weak, and I know how frustrated you are. But being a knight is more than just fighting. It's about being good in the soul and strong in the heart-"
"None of which I am," Arthur said quietly, turning away.
"Yes you are-"
"No I'm not!"
If Merlin knew the things Arthur had done over the last ten months...if he knew just how much he lost the High King Merlin so believed in...
Arthur couldn't bear to lose Merlin.
Again, silence, as Arthur stared down at the saddlebag, the chainmail, his feet, anything but Merlin, before finally he whirled around to stare desperately right at the man, whose eyes were clouded over in confusion.
Lancelot looked between them, then said, "Shall I book a room for the night?"
"Yes," Arthur said.
Lancelot nodded, then, looking between Arthur and Merlin, he added, "You two really need to talk this out."
Then he was gone, leaving Arthur alone with Merlin, and already he wanted the knight back, if only so he wouldn't have to talk to Merlin.
For several moments, he and Merlin just stood there - apparently, neither one was sure what to do, what to say.
Then Merlin stepped forward, slightly, towards Arthur, careful but determined, and Arthur was caught between wanting to mirror the action, and wanting to step back.
"What happened to you?" Merlin asked gently, steeping closer, tentatively, as if Arthur were a frightened animal. He certainly felt like one.
"You don't want to know, Merlin," Arthur said, stepping away, pressing his back against Hengroen's warm neck. Hengroen helpfully snorted in support.
"Yes, I do," Merlin said, now standing still, not coming closer, though Arthur could see clearly that he wanted to. But he was glad that Merlin was staying away.
"No, Merlin, you..." How the hell was he supposed to explain this? Especially to someone like Merlin? "You have no idea, what being a slave is like...in order to survive...I'm not...I'm not that good now, I'm not even sure what that means anymore! And I'm definitely not strong of heart, anymore...I'm..." He shuddered, turning away again, pressing his face against Hengroen's neck, his hand on the horse's shoulder, dug into the fur and clinging almost desperately to Hengroen's strong, warm frame. He couldn't do this, but he sodding had to, and he hated it. "I've had to do a lot to survive, and...and..." Not just survive. Get ahead. "Whatever I once was, I'm not anymore."
"How?" Merlin said, his voice sounding closer than before, but at least not too close. "If you're so weak, then why are you standing here planning a way to free an entire slave town of its slaves? How is it that if you're so weak, you've been fighting against leaving with me and Lancelot all morning just on the off chance you even can save all these people?"
Arthur shut his eyes.
"...I need your help," he said softly. "I won't...I don't think I can do this without you..." He swallowed. "Without you...maybe even with you, I, I'm just...I'm nothing, now. I don't...I can't be a prince, let alone a High King." He paused, took a deep breath, two. "But I can't bear to lose you, either."
"What makes you think you will?" Merlin asked from behind him. "I'll always be here."
Not if you knew just what I have done as a slave.
Arthur wanted that revelation to be never, but he knew the real world didn't work like that. Maybe now would be best, so he wouldn't get used to having Merlin around, again. Now, it would be just a little less painful to lose Merlin. Because he would, one way or another, he would lose Merlin.
"I've done things worth only shame as a slave," Arthur said, slowly turning to face a confused, concerned, and slightly horrified Merlin. "None of which are befitting a High King."
"Like what, Arthur?" Merlin asked, a little more force in his tone and face. Arthur fought the urge to flinch away from that. "What could you have possibly done that, in that situation, was so horrific?"
"Do you want..." Arthur choked. "I was all muscle and brawn, Merlin, I started out my slavery as a laborer - do you want to know how I ended up a pleasure slave?"
Merlin's confused frown deepened, and Arthur turned away again, shutting his eyes and finding solace and comfort in Hengroen's warm fur, familiar to him from years of riding strong and together. Hengroen nudged him, as if encouragingly, and Arthur took a deep breath filled with the scents of fresh hay, stable oils, tack, leather, and mostly the smell of Hengroen, and spoke.
"Their biggest way to keep us in line...is turn slaves against each other. Give out 'treats' for sucking up to them, rewards...a little extra food, one less chore, the better spot in the holding cells, a blanket...we'll do anything for anything." He felt a drop trail down his cheek. "Offer up our bodies just for a bit of bread. That was what I did. I was...I just went up to my owner at the time, begged him to let me have him fuck for a piece of bread."
Silence, save Merlin's heavy breathing.
"He let me. He took my mouth, my arse, humiliated me, and that night I basked in the glory of my extra piece of bread. That was how it started. I did that over and over again, a sweetmeat, a blanket, one less chore to do...then he just kept me in his bed, giving me only enough food to survive, trying to make me weak, and make me thin, and...when it came time to sell me, he sold me off as a pleasure slave instead of a laborer. I've been one ever since then."
He heard a hitch in Merlin's breathing, and turned to see Merlin crying, hands raised helplessly, as if for a hug but not quite.
Arthur eyed them warily, as Merlin said, "Arthur, you...you were desperate and did what you had to do-"
"But I didn't have to do that," Arthur said bitterly. "I wouldn't have needed that extra food, I could have gone without the blanket, or...but I did it anyway. Tell me, Merlin, how is that good? How is that honorable?"
"That's desperation, Arthur," Merlin said, voice thick, speaking around a tears' lump in his throat. Arthur could tell. He knew Merlin's voice well. He knew Merlin's body and his face and his voice and his hands and his lips and his eyes - the only thing he didn't know was Merlin, himself.
"That's only the beginning of it, Merlin," Arthur said. "I...I almost never even shared what I got with the other slaves. I..." He turned to press his face back into Hengroen's shoulder. "I stopped fighting, Merlin. I stopped trying to escape, and I just...I just gave up. That's not what a knight does, and not what a prince does."
"The entire system of slavery is designed to break you, Arthur," Merlin said. "Slavery's been around longer than the knight's code!"
Was that supposed to comfort him?
"They have had more time to get this down, to break people into things..." Arthur jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, whirling around and away to see Merlin standing right there. "Arthur...you're here now. And whatever you say about having given up, you've gotten that fight in you back." Merlin gestured out the stable door. "This is a slaver's town and you are still going to wander out there and free everyone just because you know what's right. That's not what someone who has truly given up does, Arthur."
Arthur stared at Merlin, who took that as a sign to continue talking.
"No one can be always strong, no one. We all have our weak moments...and that is why we have each other, to depend on each other..." Merlin swallowed. "Your father tried to be strong. Look what happened when he lost Ygraine - he went mad. Gwaine is an alcoholic vagabond without Elyan there to keep him in line. Lancelot is lost without someone, you or Gwen or even sodding Percival to give him some direction." Merlin paused, swallowed, and said, "And Arthur...my soul would be lost and desolate without you. None of us are nothing, no one is nothing, but together, we can made an extraordinary whole that can take on the world." Merlin smiled. "And that includes you."
"You..." Arthur wondered when he his mouth had gone dry. "You would...you would do fine without me, Merlin. Be better off without me...if I died-"
"No!" Merlin said, looking horrified at the thought, stepping closer, gripping Arthur's forearms. Arthur didn't pull away this time, instead stared down at Merlin's hands on his shirt, his flesh. "Arthur, please - we need to work together and have each other. I cannot go on without you. Please...you have weak moments, out of a lifetime of strength. You are allowed to have them. We need each other."
There was silence, and Arthur slowly looked up to see Merlin staring at him in earnest desperation.
"You are a good man at heart, Arthur," Merlin whispered. "And that's where it matters."
With a desolate cry, Arthur lunged forward and pulled Merlin to him, pressing himself against him, trying desperately to make them one person.
"You won't...why are you with me?" Arthur asked. "Why me?"
Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, and Arthur leaned into the touch, pressing his face into Merlin's neck as Merlin stroked his hair and rubbed his back.
"Do you remember-" he murmured quietly into Arthur's ear. "The Fisher King's land, that bridge keeper, your quest? Strength, Courage, Magic? You are courage. I'm magic. And Gwaine, Lancelot, Gwen, all of them - they are all strength. Together, we will one day rule Camelot, and unite Albion, and, and..." He shook his head. "But no - more importantly, together, today - we'll go and piss off these slavers and free these people and do what's right, because we can. Courage, Magic, Strength - you are not alone, Arthur, and never will be, never again."
Arthur gripped Merlin tightly, clinging to him.
"Do you promise?" he asked, lifting his head to look at Merlin.
Merlin looked back, his deep, clear eyes brimming with a love Arthur knew would overwhelm them both, and for the life of him, he would gladly drown in it.
"Promise," Merlin said, before leaning forward, and pressing his lips to Arthur's, sealing his promise with a kiss.
And Arthur kissed back.
Master Post
Notes: Comments are ♥! Reviews, praise, criticism, even just telling me you read it at all - everything is welcome. :D
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no subject
Date: 2011-05-02 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-07 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-02 03:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-07 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-02 09:11 pm (UTC)This is my favourite scene, where Arthur finally starts to talk about what has happened. It's so terrifying and vulnerable and you can just feel the palpable shame rolling off him. So much healing to do, but this conversation was a huge part.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-03 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-03 12:11 am (UTC)I LOVE that you have set this up as the classic medieval road-trip. It is how I will always think of this story.
Errr... would it be cheating to ask if you have a link to the kmm parts, so I can read ahead and track it? I really am loving the story.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-03 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-02 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-07 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-04 08:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-07 12:50 am (UTC)Anyway, I'm glad you like the fic. Thank you for reading, and commenting! ^+^
no subject
Date: 2011-05-05 10:26 am (UTC)I love that even after everything what happened to Arthur, he wants to fight back and make the world a better place.
"Do you remember-" he murmured quietly into Arthur's ear. "The Fisher King's land, that bridge keeper, your quest? Strength, Courage, Magic? You are courage. I'm magic. And Gwaine, Lancelot, Gwen, all of them - they are all strength. Together, we will one day rule Camelot, and unite Albion, and, and..." He shook his head. "But no - more importantly, together, today - we'll go and piss off these slavers and free these people and do what's right, because we can. Courage, Magic, Strength - you are not alone, Arthur, and never will be, never again."
Yessss!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-07 12:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 04:09 pm (UTC)Ilove this fic and I love you <3
no subject
Date: 2011-05-09 11:38 pm (UTC)