Merthur - The Blue Butterfly

Chapter 3 - The Prince and the Warlock

Arthur stares up at the battered door in front of him, using the faint light of the candle to illuminate the corridor as best he can. He swallows thickly, watching the light quiver with his hands as he tries to calm all the nerves in his body that are telling him to turn and run. He had spent the rest of the night yesterday pondering what to do. He had slept fitfully, hardly getting a wink of rest and yet by morning he still hadn't made up his mind. Sure, he believes that Merlin may not be bad, but that doesn't mean he should commit treason right under his father's nose.

It took the rest of the morning to reach his current decision, but even now he hesitates as he stands in front of the door with the candle in his hand. Should he? Does he dare?

Slowly, with a tentative hand he reaches for the handle. He gives it a light push forward, hearing the hinges creak as the door opens and the dusty room is revealed before him. Swinging the light around the room as he looks he finds that everything is the same as how he had left it yesterday. There's the small fort he had built for protection, and the piece of timber that he used as a weapon on the ground. Even the pebble is still there, sitting silently. Void of all life.

In a few steps he walks over to the grate, peering down to find it as cold and dark inside as before. He backs away, calming his nerves as he counts to three in his head. He can do this.

"Merlin?" he calls, cringing at the tremble he hears in his voice. His father would have scolded him had he heard.

"Arthur?" The boy's voice immediately replies back with enthusiasm. There's a few footsteps as he gets to his feet. "I-is it really you?"

Hearing such joy and sadness in his words Arthur feels a stab of pain in his chest at ever doubting the boy, but still the lingering sense of danger dwells in the back of his mind. He sits down and sets the candle on the ground, pushing it close to the grate till a faint light seeps through the bars. With the help of the light he's able to see the small outline of a silhouette in the room. A silhouette of Merlin. From what he can make out the boy's small and has a mop of black - or perhaps dark brown - hair on his head. He isn't able to make out anything else. The rooms still far too dark, but at least now he knows what the boy looks like. At least a little bit. "Yes, it's me, I'm sorry I ran away," Arthur replies, his words sincere.

There's a light chuckle from the grate, a broken one. One that sounds a little forced as though the boy is trying to suppress something. To hide something he wants no one, perhaps not even himself, to see. What that something is Arthur doesn't know.

There's a shuffling sound from below him and now he can see Merlin sitting against the wall underneath him, looking up at the ceiling presumably because he can't tell where the prince is. Now that he's closer Arthur can just barely make out bright, blue eyes and a wide smile that makes his heart skip a beat. "I thought I would never get to talk to you again. And um... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Papa always said that I shouldn't use magic when it isn't lesson time."

"Papa? I thought you said you're alone?"

Arthur's met with nothing but silence and when he looks through the grate again he finds Merlin's no longer smiling. His head is tilted downwards until the shadows are obscuring his face once again. "I am. Papa used to say that," he says in a quiet voice.

Arthur sits uncomfortably in his spot, having a question that he wants to ask, but knowing this probably wasn't the best time. Unfortunately, his curiosity won out. "Did your Papa know magic too?"

Merlin is quiet for a moment before looking back up at the prince. "Yes, he did. He was the best..."

"Was?"

"A bad man came and... um..." Merlin doesn't finish but Arthur can guess what he meant. His parents are dead.

Arthur doesn't quite know what to say. He understands how it must feel like having lost a parent himself but his situation was still different. Unlike Merlin, he had never met his mother before. Had never felt a mother's love and care so he didn't know what it was like to suddenly lose all of that. He supposes that it would be similar to what he'd feel if he lost his father. Nonetheless, he thought it was probably best he changes the subject. "Do you ever get to go outside?" Arthur decides to ask, and seeing how dark and dreary the room is he hopes that answer is yes.