Merlin (TV BBC) - Febuwhump 2024 / Mini Fic Challenge

Day 1: Helpless

Summary: Merlin is trapped in a cell and fire is raging on outside.

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The flames rose too high to see above. The heat was hot enough to melt anything it touched. The stone walls were powerless against its rage, destroying all in its path. Despite all this, the heat didn't melt the cold iron. It was merciless as it filled the caved-in cell with smoke, choking the warlock inside.

Merlin was pressed into the corner, the furthest he could within the restraints of the chained manacles around his wrists. The smoke was seeping in through the cracks and rubble of stone which had destroyed the cell's door and entombed Merlin in pitch blackness.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't see. He couldn't get out of the manacles to save himself. He'd tried all he could ever since he'd woken up in this cell. He'd tried dislocating his thumbs to slip out of them. He'd tried using his own blood at the same time to do the same, rubbing his skin raw till it spilt from the rough edges of the cuffs. His magic was thrashing under his skin, furious about not being able to get out.

He couldn't breathe, not with the thick clouds of smoke mixing with the dust he was gulping down, nor from the rising panic strumming up his body. He'd screamed his throat hoarse earlier when the fire had only just started, screamed for someone to get him out. But they had either forgotten about him or had not cared enough about what information he might have to keep him alive. Probably his own downfall for not revealing who he was to begin with when they'd been interrogating him for the last few days. It was no use now to shout for help anyway, too much stone lay in piles between him and free air.

His eyes stung from the dust and detritus, and they hurt as small bursts of light made their way between the debris. Fire. His already laboured breathing hitched as he could only watch the flames make their way into his cell with him. He pressed back farther, his shoulders protesting as it stretched his arms out more.

No. This could not be it. This couldn't be. Not by one of the things he feared most, what haunted him in his nightmares. Fire would not be his undoing! He tried harder, tried with all his might but his magic couldn't get past the barrier the cold iron created. He pulled and he pulled on the cuffs, the last of his waning energy draining out of him. His hands were the first to be touched by the fire's biting mouth. It liked and fanged at his flesh. He started screaming again but no one heard him. No one in the land of the dreaming, anyway.