When It Rains

When It Rains «2:9»

That hope- which had coursed through Arthur's veins like hot, fizzing sunshine for an entire night- was completely extinguished by the next day, which saw Arthur tied to a chair in the banquet hall and Merlin strung up with chains attached to his arms leading up to pullys in the ceiling.
The chains wound around the pullys and down again, into the hands of each of the guards.

Arthur just couldn't bring himself to hate them quite so much after seeing Gwen's beautiful face under one of those grey visors.

He found that the ability to hate them blossomed once more, with extra venom, when Arthur held his tongue at Morgause's interrogating, and they each yanked on their chain.

Merlin yelped as he lifted off his feet a little.
The young man's right eye was completely ruined. Arthur knew there was no hope whatsoever for Merlin to see out of it again. The socket was caked in flayed muscle and crusty blood, and Arthur had to look away to stop himself from dry wretching.

Morgause repeated the question; something about Arthur's family history and therefore the legality of another claiming the throne without a direct blood line but a distinct relation to royalty. Arthur barely heard her.

Merlin screamed as the chains were pulled still further. The Prince knew exactly what was going to happen to his servant if he, Arthur, continued his silence, but he also knew the sustainment box could fix dislocated shoulders.

Merlin will be fine after he's spent a few hours in there, he thought.

A moment later he felt sickened with himself.

He had sounded for a second, and he hated to accept it but knew he was right, just like his father.
So cruel.
So assuming.
So inhumane.

Morgause caught him out of his subconscious with a snap of her fingers in front of his eyes.

"If you're thinking that Merlin won't suffer long-term from this exercise, then think again," she said.

Arthur stared. It was as though she had read his mind. But then, she was a sorceress, so she probably had.

"Broken bones can be fixed, dislocations can be mended, cuts and bruises can be healed," Morgause continued, "but the sustainment box cannot..."

She signaled to the guards, and with one almighty tug they brought the chains so tight that they were horizontal with Merlin's arms, spread wide, and a horrible moment later there was a gut-wrentching rippp as both of Merlin's arms were pulled from their sockets.

"...Reattach limbs," Morgause whispered.

As the servant screamed, the guards continued, and Merlin's shirt ripped and fell away as the pale skin on his shoulders began to tear as easily as if it were paper. Blood showered the floor as they kept pulling, walking backwards, and muscle and flesh and a streak of bone were yanked and twisted out of place.

CRRRAAACK!

Merlin's arms had left his body.