Even Then - Merthur Fanfiction - A/B/O, Mpreg.... Complete!

Part 5

~Present time~

He was awoken by someone grabbing him by his hair, Merlin gasped in pain and quickly he wished he hadn't. His head was suddenly submerged in a bucket of water, his open mouth getting filled with it, blocking off his airways. It stung his nasal passages and eyes. He was pulled back up and he coughed and spluttered as much as he could, trying to repel the water from his lungs. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the water looked off and felt slimy on his skin and hair. It hadn't just been water in that bucket.

Before he could grasp the horror of just being dunked in oily water he was getting pulled up to his feet and dragged out of the cell.

As they made their way up to the courtyard Merlin struggled and reached for his magic, they already knew so why not use it now to escape. He tried but nothing. His bold ran cold and he gasped breathlessly instead of screaming. Only then did he register his hands were bond in iron cuffs. He tugged at the chains, he thrashed and kicked in the guards' hands holding him. But these men were Uther's guards, not Arthur's knights. He heard the crown murmur as he was getting fastened to the middle of a pyre.

Prince Arthur's servant?

A sorcerer?

The traitor!

So much for saving their lives more time than he could count, Merlin bitterly thought. He scanned the crowed and the people up on the balconies and windows as fear started to grip him with its claws. Where was Arthur? Gwen? Gaius? The knights?

It was all coming crashing in around him; the chains keeping him from escaping, the wood piled up ready to give him a slow, painful death, Uther with his hand raised looking murderous.

"Light the pyre," Uther orders at the same time as dropping his hand as a signal to start. He didn't even go off on a speech about how magic has plagued his land. No, he wanted Merlin dead as soon as possible.

Then the torches were lowered, three guards holding three of them. Uther wanted this over and done with but in the worst way. The chopping block would have been far better, quick, and effortless, the pyre was built for agony and screaming, to ripe soul from body then burn the pieces.

Pulling at the chain was useless, they gave no give, his magic trapped within him, his own body a cell. There was no escaping this on his own, and that he was, alone.

"No," Merlin slurred, smoke rising and filling his nostrils and making him cough. The heat was already smothering, he sweated, his brown stuck to his forehead.

Then he felt everyone's eyes on him, them his last hope. There was one thing he could do save not just himself, one of his secrets was now out, why not reveal another.

"No, please, no," he pleaded, writhing, and turning his head to meet as many eyes as he could, pulling harder at the chains, then he shouted, "I'm with child, please!"

The crowd went silent, and tears were running down Merlin's cheeks. Before his vison went completely blurry, he caught Uther gaze. Unphased, hard, and cold. His words, his declaration, hadn't broken through the fog of the enchantment over Uther. Lady Catrina standing in all her glory covered in jewels was smiling, triumphant.

Merlin kept shouting, pleading until the smoke was too thick and formed walls around him. The heat was worse and getting more severe. It was getting closer, inch by inch, flames licking at his boots and arms. He couldn't hear past the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears, his wrists rubbing raw against the chuffs, blood and sweat wetting his palms. His stomach was cramping, and he bowed his head, curling in on himself as best he could, whispering and whimpering apologies to his unborn babe. He wished he could have met them.

His world was dotting with black, and his head was pounding, he couldn't breathe.

He started sagging against the pyre when it wobbled under him, jolting him but not enough to keep the darkness away. He couldn't hear anything other than his own heartbeat. Out of the blue, or out of the red flames, something cool and wet surrounding him, wrapped around him and the cuffs feel free. His legs gave out and he stumbled forward and into something moving. A chest, someone chest. The smoke was still getting in. He couldn't breathe.

He was being dragged again. But this time awayfrom the scorching heat of the flames. He couldn't see, his vision obscured byhis tears. He couldn't hear, unable to focus on the voice speaking. He couldn'tbreathe.

A/N: Sorry Merlin... Well, I'm not really, but I am a little... Sorry.