Title: Blood Simple
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Word Count: Approx 4,000
Episode Spoilers: Very slight one for the Labyrinth of Gedref.
Warnings: Bit dark in places
Summary: A witch comes to Camelot to kidnap Merlin. Arthur goes to the rescue.
A/N: Many thanks to my beta reader fanged_angel. The title is from a Coen Brothers film.


The evening was cold and the candle had almost worn down to the end as Uther scratched the last figures onto the paper, signing off the latest set of the knights’ accounts. Beside him, Arthur had started day-dreaming long ago and was folding a piece of paper in his fingers. Uther could see their shadows moving as it shrank smaller and smaller.

The door jerking open made them jump as Lady Hillbury marched into the room. The flames in the grate suddenly jumped higher and her scarves blew out behind her. She held up a hand and snapped at the guards, “Leave us.”

Uther shouted at them to stay but they were already going, staggering as if drunk. One of them grasped his head and moaned. The door slammed behind them and Uther pulled his sword half out of its scabbard.

“What is the meaning of this?”

She smiled, previously he'd liked that smile but now there was something dark and horrible in it and said, “I need you to do something for me.”

He drew the sword the rest of the way. “And why should I do that?”

“Oh, it's really very simple.” She smiled again, sweet like rotten honey. “You have something I want and I need your permission to take it. Without your leave my spell won't work.”

Arthur drew his own sword and said incredulously, “You're a sorcerer?”

The part of Uther that was always the king and was always evaluating every move made in the room, no matter how much emotion touched him, winced at Arthur only drawing his sword then.

“You'll have my permission to do nothing, witch.”

“Oh, I think I will.”

Her hand snapped out and beside him, Arthur drew one desperate breath and fell to the floor, gasping, his hand round his throat.

He almost dropped down next to him, seeing the frantic movements of Arthur's back as he tried to breathe, but held out his sword and said, “Let him go.”

“No, I don't think I will. My fingers are currently curled this much, they're letting a tiny amount of air into his lungs. If you call the guards, if you throw that sword, I'll tighten them and no air will get down his throat.”

Uther lowered his sword, his own throat feeling as tight as Arthur's, and she nodded.

“Now, on to business. You have in your employ a servant, a fairly useless one, called Merlin.”

He blinked at her in surprise and Arthur tried to kneel up, choking out the word no.

Lady Hillbury closed her hand round a locket at her throat and he sunk back down, whimpering through the gasps. Uther reached for him but his fingers only grazed the back of his neck before he was out of reach.

He said slowly, “Yes.”

“You must release him from any oath of fealty and give him to me.”

Arthur took another deeper breath and managed, “And you'll give him back?”

She smiled and in the shadows her teeth looked sharp, “What's left of him.”

“No...”

“I'm not asking you, I'm speaking to your father.”

Uther stared at her, meeting her eyes and there was nothing to reveal the strain in his whole body as he said, “Merlin is a citizen of Camelot and as such...”

“He's worth more than your son?”

Arthur jerked forward and said desperately, sounding like he was in terrible pain, “He's not worthless, he's not important though...”

“So sweet.”

She knelt down opposite Arthur and touched his cheek. Uther shouted at her not to touch him but she just carried on, almost singing. “He's important to you, isn't he? And I'm sure you can guess why he's important to me...”

The door jerked open again and Merlin ran into the room, waving a sword and shouting, “It's a trap, she's a...” He didn't finish. The witch stood up, swirled round and threw Merlin against the wall before pulling him back next to her. The space between them glittered with blue sparks and Merlin twisted frantically but couldn't get free.

She spun to Uther, looked straight at him and snapped, “Your son or your servant, Uther, which will it be?”

There was no choice, there never had been. But he forced himself to look in Merlin's eyes as he said, “Take him.”

Arthur shouted no again, but Merlin's eyes just shut for a moment before opening again and he nodded, almost smiling.

Hillbury shouted something magic that pulled Merlin next to her. Her arms went around him and they vanished in a sapphire blue flash that knocked him back against his chair.

When he opened his eyes, Arthur was breathing again, almost drinking down the air and looking at him with total contempt.

“I had no choice.”

“You did. You always do.”

Arthur staggered to his feet and bent down for his sword, wheezing like an old man.

“I'm going to rescue him.”

“You can't...”

Arthur's sword whipped up and he was staring down the blade.

“Don't challenge me, father. Not on this.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment. Not even the look in Arthur's eyes could make him regret what he'd done.

***

Arthur stumbled out of the room. He had to grab the walls to move quickly enough and his lungs hurt like they'd been crushed by a boulder.

He tripped and struggled to Gaius' rooms before falling through the door. Gaius had to catch him and lead him to a chair. He grabbed at the other man's hands and bit out Merlin's name. Gaius just shook his head, passed him a small bottle and said sharply, “Drink this, then talk.”

“Now tell me what's happened to Merlin.”

He had to sip the mixture as he explained and Gaius seemed to shrink in front of him, his eyes finally shutting when Arthur finished.

“Why are you asking me for help? I presume you're asking me for help.”

He took another breath and slowly stood up, trailing his fingers through the herbs on the work bench.

“You live with Merlin, work with Merlin, you must have known that he is...”

A chair clattered behind him and Gaius said very slowly, “Known he was what?”

The rosemary between Arthur's fingers crushed.

“Known he was a sorcerer.”

“I... knew. I didn't know you knew though.”

He turned back round. Gaius looked like he was going to be sick and was knotting his fingers in his sleeve.

“I only found out three days ago.” Three hideous days during which he'd been simultaneously unable to stand seeing Merlin and unable to risk letting him out of his sight. Gaius nodded and said in a thick voice, “Merlin has been upset in the past few days. I thought Gwen and him...”

And wasn't that just hilarious. Arthur held his hand against his chest and breathed in deeply,

“That doesn't matter now. We have to find him.”

“I don't know how.”

“Gaius...”

“Your highness, I haven't successfully practised magic in years. And from what you say, this is a very powerful sorcerer...”

Arthur stepped forward, backing Gaius against the wall and desperately trying to hold onto his temper.

“I will find him. I will search every barn, every cottage, and every cave. But if I want to find more than, more than...”

He couldn't finish the sentence and Gaius carefully reached up and wrapped a hand around his arm.

“I don't know if I can help, but I think there's someone who might be able to.”


***

The heat near the dragon's prison was intense. Even the bricks Arthur brushed past were warm. The majority of Camelot glowed softly in the sun but this part of the castle was sunk in the ground. When he mentioned this Gaius just nodded and said, “There's been a castle or building here since records began, earlier probably. There have always been kings of Camelot.”

Arthur trailed his fingers against the stone, disturbed by that in ways he couldn't place.

When they reached the door, Gaius rolled his eyes at the bars that had been pushed apart.

“Merlin, I assume.”

They edged inside and it was the smell that hit Arthur first, bitter and old, like ash from a burnt corpse.

Gaius moved ahead and shouted, “Dragon!”

His voice echoed around the cave. In the distance, a stone fell but nothing else happened and Arthur went forward and called, “Dragon! Show yourself!”

There was an avalanche of rocks, a gush of sulphur and wind that sent him staggering back and then he was staring at the dragon. It was huge; all he could see were gold and red scales that glowed in the torchlight. He went forward without thinking, ignoring Gaius' hand on his arm, until he was right in front of it.

It looked at him curiously for a moment and then said, “Arthur Pendragon.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know many things.”

“Do you know of Merlin, he's my servant, he...”

“Your servant!”

The dragon flapped its wings once and laughed, puffs of steam appearing as it breathed out and Arthur took a step back.

“He's no more your servant than you are truly his lord. Your power is like two metal ores, it is only when combined that you reach the strength of steel.”

Arthur stared at him and then said carefully, “Alright.”

“I am honoured to meet you, young Pendragon, how can I help?”

“Well, it's Merlin...” And he tried to explain again, throwing in some desperate, general information about Merlin's borderline competence and general lack of use to a witch, before the dragon suddenly shouted, “Stop!”

Arthur did and the dragon looked distinctly disappointed in him as it said, “I know more about Merlin than you do, including his powers and the use he has put to them, mostly ensuring that the two of you can fulfil your destiny.”

“What destiny?”

He wished he hadn't asked as the dragon began to explain something complicated and long, and none of that really mattered then so he snapped, “If you don't tell me how to find him this will never happen, he'll be dead and there won't be a destiny!”

Just saying it made the temperature drop and the torches flicker. He realised he'd said something really important without knowing why and the dragon bent right down next to him. He could see all the creases in the scales, the darkness at the corners of its eyes and something red burning in its throat.

“If I give you the key to this, Arthur Pendragon, if I show you how to free your warlock, I want something in return. Something unbreakable.”

“You have my word.”

“Sire.” Gaius whispered to him, “There's a reason your father put it down here...”

He ignored him but said, “You'll tell me the truth when you tell me how to free Merlin?”

“I will.”

“And in return?”

“My freedom upon your ascension to the throne.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. His eyes were large enough that Arthur could have stepped into them and there was a sense of something crawling round his mind before he said carefully, “You'll take no revenge on any humans. I won't claim the throne before my father's death and your wrongs die with him.”

Old, hot eyes stared into his, but the dragon finally bowed its head and nodded.

“We are agreed. You must go to the island between the worlds. It hovers to the west, beyond the edge of vision. Sleep there and you die; to eat its food is to be the living dead. Eyes pecked out by crows can see and aborted babes can crawl. It's where your dreams can live, Prince, any of your dreams.”

Arthur swallowed and nodded. “How do I find it?”

“Go west into the setting sun, through the trees, until you find the corrupted water. Walk on until you reach the ferryman.”

“Thank you, dragon.”

“Thank me by freeing me.”

Arthur bowed once and ran from the cave.

It was a day’s ride. The fields got less regular and the fences and bushes rougher the further west he went, the people thinner and dirtier. He went down tracks his father had always commanded him to avoid and the trees got thicker until he finally reached a stagnant lake.

It was covered in mildew and the lilies were strangled by weeds. He called out nervously and dismounted, his boots sinking into the grey mud. He shuffled his way through the slop until he reached a rickety jetty.

He didn't want to sit so he paced up and down. The sun inched its way across the sky, watery beams sinking through the clouds and showing up how rank the place was. It felt wrong, wrong to the bottom of his soul that the place he should come seeking Merlin was so damp and cold. In his mind he could only picture him lit up, the glow from the fire catching in his eyes, or the sun gilding over his hair and mouth. It was wrong that it had come down to bogs and the gathering dark.

Eventually, there was a splashing in the mist and a shadow began to form. A small boat appeared, steered by a man in dark cloak. He tightened his hand on his sword hilt as it got closer and the man sailing it coughed as it drew level with the jetty.

“Are you the ferryman?”

Eyes ailed by cataracts turned towards him, “I am.”

He swallowed and it hurt, but his voice sounded level as he said, “Can you take me through the marsh?”

The man nodded, coughed and spat, Arthur tried not to look disgusted. “Whose soul are you here to take?”

“No one’s!”

The man gave him a confused look and then said, very slowly as though he was remembering words he'd forgotten years ago, “Then whose soul are you here to save?”

“Merlin, son of Hunith.”

In the trees a flock of crows launched into the air, screeching and bitter, and he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The ferryman shrugged and said, “It's your funeral. Get in the boat.”

Arthur tried to memorize the route at first, but it was impossible among the endless inlets, banks and sudden drops. They went in silence and, to his relief, a city slowly began to solidify out of the fog. The ferryman ploughed on and he stared at the tallest tower he could see, the clearest building from this distance.

When they got to the pier he clambered out of the boat and the ferryman rasped, “Two coins my lord. It matters not which, but if you do plan to return I'd invest them with a bit more weight.”

Arthur hesitated before handing over two silver pieces. “You'll wait till I return.”

The ferryman bowed and said, “You're generous sire. I'll be here until the darkness has fallen the night the crows return.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment before nodding and running into the city.

It was still daylight, but the light was grey and watery. It looked like it had been a proper city once as he ran past a deserted forge and over the fallen sign of an inn. He had a horrible feeling there were still people here because in the distance there were thin columns of smoke and occasionally, the sound of hysterical laughter or crying. Sometimes, the weeping stopped as soon as it started, other times it carried on, long and bleak and hopeless.

It was a maze, worse than Anhora's labyrinth. Eventually, he came round a corner and saw a woman walking slowly in front of him. He called to her but she didn't respond and he ran closer, softly taking the top of her arm. He nearly shouted when he saw her face.

Her eyes were gone. In their place were just black holes that left trails of crusted blood on her cheeks.

“Madam, I need…I'm looking for a witch.”

She shrugged and as she opened her mouth, he realised she had no tongue.

“I'm sorry, a witch called Hillbury? If you know and can point...?”

She scowled for a moment and then raised an arm and pointed to a building set slightly aside from the others up a hill.

“Thank you.”

He went to press a coin into her hand but it clattered to the floor, and when he looked down he saw her other hand was just a scarred stump.

“I'm sorry.” He picked the coin back up; it gleamed in the mud like the sun, and he pressed it into her good hand. “I'm not sure how much good this will do you here.”

She flicked it in her fingers and pointed back towards the building with a shrug.

“Okay. Goodbye.”

He crept towards the shack. There was light coming from inside and through the cracks in the wood he could see Merlin chained to the wall. The chains glowed slightly and Merlin's head was dropping against his shoulder. He was stripped to the waist and blood streaked his chest.

Arthur edged round the building until he found the door and hovered next to it, carefully drawing his sword. He could hear a woman singing and could just see Hillbury; she was stirring something in a glass flask.

“There we go Merlin, all just waiting for your blood. Blood has the potential to be a particularly noxious substance, so this mix is for a poison that can burn a person's bones. Whilst they are still inside said person.

“I have other uses for your skin, your eyes, your saliva, your semen, the sinew in your muscles and, of course, your bones. Bit, by bit I'm going to use all of you.”

He wanted to rush in, swinging his sword, but she was powerful and as he edged into the room he watched where his shadow fell. Merlin saw him and his eyes went wide as Arthur carefully drew his knife to throw it at the witch, but she turned quickly and the blade hung in mid-air before falling to the floor.

He launched himself at her but she twisted her hand and he collapsed on his knees, completely unable to move his legs or arms.

“How heroic. The boy prince coming to save his sorcerer.” Arthur struggled but couldn't move and she pulled him up by his chin. “You can be my first test subject.”

She picked up a knife and walked over to Merlin, grabbing his hand and cutting across his palm. Arthur saw the blood well up and he tried to shout as she squeezed it over a goblet. Merlin whimpered and Arthur could see the blood dripping on the floor.

She walked over to him and waved her pendant over the liquid. It turned from dull brown to fizzing scarlet, almost frothing over the edge.

“Drink, Prince Arthur. It will only hurt for a moment.”

Merlin was struggling against his bonds and shouting at her to leave him alone. She tipped his head back and smiled softly, stroking his cheek as she murmured, “What power killing both of you will get me, the moment that destiny snaps...”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin suddenly stop struggling, he saw realisation wash over his face and then Merlin nodded at him. And because he trusted him, always had and always would, he opened his mouth and let the liquid slip down.

For a moment, his whole body felt full and stretched, and he fell against the table, but then the pain began to leave and it felt like he was filled with light, with something brilliant and familiar that he already intimately knew.

Hillbury turned to look at Merlin who was laughing at the ceiling. “It didn't work! What did you do?”

Merlin stopped laughing, but he was still smiling brightly as he replied, “I didn't do anything! You were trying to create a magical poison, made of hate and terror, but you forgot love! There is no part of me, of my body that could harm Arthur, not my blood or skin or anything else.”

Arthur stumbled forward then, feeling Merlin running through him like liquid gold, magic bubbling and twitching in his finger tips. Love, love breathed through him like air and water, and he'd never known, but that didn't matter now.

They grabbed at each other's hands and the chain snapped, falling back against the wall and Merlin waved his hand sending Hillbury back until she sprawled on the floor. The magic ran through them like little breaths of fire and Merlin reached forward and pulled Hillbury's necklace off. He twirled it in his fingers for a moment and Arthur felt the sticky, oily darkness of it before he threw it into the air and sent up a burst of magic. When it hit it Arthur nearly fell over. There was a deafening boom and shattering black glass and screams crashed over them. It was pain and hurt and age but Merlin wrapped his arm around his shoulders and the golden, beloved magic cloak just wrapped tighter around them.

When it was over, Merlin got up slowly and walked over to Hillbury. She was crouched on the floor, weeping, one hand scrabbling at her neck.

“It's over, Hillbury. I could kill you, as powerful as I am now, but I'm only this powerful because of love, and I won't spoil that by murdering you with it.”

She looked up at him and said desperately, “But what will I do?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don't know what you would have been if you'd never found that thing, but now it's time for you to find out.”

She started crying harder and Merlin went on, “But if I ever hear of you being inside Camelot's land again, or practising magic anywhere, I won't be so merciful.”

She nodded and Merlin stared down at her, older and more commanding than Arthur had ever seen him before, his eyes glowing gold. He swept out of the shack, pulling Arthur along behind him.

They stumbled down the hill in silence, and Arthur could feel Merlin's love and magic slipping out of him. The power in Merlin's face faded, until he looked exhausted and almost fell. Arthur took his arm to steady him.

“I'm okay.”

“You're not. And you need a shirt.”

Merlin shook his head, “I don't want anything that's been in that place.”

Arthur stopped and took off his coat, handing it across. “Put this on.”

“I'm...”

“Put it on, Merlin.”

Merlin swayed slightly as the last of the gold drained from his eyes, and Arthur gently put his arm around him.

“Lean on me, you're exhausted.”

“Always am after really strong magic.”

They stumbled through the town, the shadows getting longer as they went and it was almost dark by the time they reached the ferryman. He nodded at them, looking surprised and said, “The crows are almost back, my lord. I feared I'd have to leave you.”

Arthur just nodded and bundled Merlin into the boat. It was night by the time they reached the other side, and Arthur pushed Merlin up onto the horse before climbing on behind him. He waited until they were free of the dank miasma of the place and back in familiar woods and trees before saying, “So...”

Merlin turned to look at him, “So what?”

“So you love me.”

Merlin tensed and then said, “And you love me, I felt it.”

Arthur pulled the horse to a stop and tried to work out what to say. Merlin turned around to face him and Arthur reached out and stroked the dark hollows under his eyes, down his cheek and then his lips.

“I could feel all of you, you and your magic, and what you feel for me. Everything you're becoming. Merlin...”

“Shh.”

Merlin hushed him with a finger on his lips and then kissed him. Their lips just brushed for a moment before Arthur deepened the kiss, letting it quietly simmer through them before Merlin broke away and said, “I'll fall off the horse if you keep doing that.”

Arthur laughed then, joy flowing through him like Merlin's magic, dancing and alive, and he kicked the horse into a canter.

“We need to get back to Camelot. There's a bed there and no horses to fall off.”

Merlin laughed too, leaning back against his chest and saying, “Occasionally you have very sensible ideas.”

“Occasionally?”

“About once a month.”

“And yet you love me anyway.”

He could almost feel Merlin smile as he said, “I do Arthur, I really do.”

THE END