A Warlocks' Disguise {ArthurxFem!Merlin}

UPDATED 1/16

Merilyn descended into the dungeons, her heart pounding in her chest. The air was thick with cold, the stone walls heavy with the weight of countless secrets. She had to see Gwen. She had to make sure her friend was okay, even if only for a moment. As she approached the cell, her breath caught in her throat. There, on the other side of the bars, sat Gwenivere, her face streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

"Gwen," Merilyn whispered, her voice barely audible in the dim, damp air.

Gwenivere looked up, her tear-stained face lighting up with the smallest spark of recognition. She tried to stand, but the chains binding her wrists tugged at her, the cold metal pulling her back toward the stone wall. She winced, but a faint smile flickered on her lips.

"Thank you," Gwen said softly, her voice fragile and hoarse from hours of distress.

Merilyn's heart broke at the sight. She stepped closer to the bars, her hands gripping them with a fierce determination. "What for?" she asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

"For coming to see me," Gwen replied, her words quiet but full of meaning. Her eyes were filled with gratitude, yet also with a sadness that Merilyn couldn't bear.

"I'm sorry," Merilyn whispered, her guilt swallowing her. She hated herself for letting it come to this. She hated that Gwen, who had done nothing wrong, was suffering for her actions.

"It's not your fault," Gwen said, shaking her head gently. Her voice trembled, but she forced a small, comforting smile. "You didn't make this happen."

"Well..." Merilyn began, but the words caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. How could she apologize for all of this? How could she make it right?

"It's alright," Gwen interrupted, her voice softer now, a strange calm settling over her. "Don't worry about me. There's no point in crying about it." She hesitated, then added, a little more awkwardly, "I mean... I'm not saying you were going to cry about me. Obviously, I don't think that."

Merilyn smiled faintly at Gwen's attempt to lighten the mood, but the sadness in her chest was still raw. "Oh, Gwen," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't have this happen."

Gwen's eyes softened, and she leaned closer to the bars. Despite the chains, despite everything that had been taken from her, there was a quiet strength in her demeanor. She placed her hands through the bars, reaching for Merilyn. "Please, one thing," Gwen said, her voice catching. "You... you don't have to, but... remember me."

Merilyn's chest tightened, her throat closing up. "You're not going to die," she whispered fiercely, shaking her head. "I'm not going to let this happen."

But Gwen's eyes were full of acceptance, as though she knew the truth, as though she had already accepted her fate. "Remember me," she repeated softly, her voice filled with a peaceful resignation. "Please."

Merilyn's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back fiercely. She couldn't allow herself to cry in front of Gwen—not now, not when there was still a chance. She grabbed the bars, her fingers white-knuckling them in determination. "I'll fix this, Gwen. I swear it," she promised, though she didn't quite believe the words herself. The uncertainty loomed over her like a shadow she couldn't shake.

With one last glance, her heart heavy with guilt and resolve, Merilyn turned and rushed toward the Wrought Iron Stairway. She couldn't stand to be down there a moment longer, surrounded by the coldness of the dungeon and the weight of Gwen's fate. She had to do something—anything—to stop this from happening. She was running out of time, and she wasn't about to let her friend die in vain.