Chapter Text
‘We could lure them out, Sire, from their camp.’
‘And how do we do that?’
‘We could take ‘em by surprise. Just… lash out on ‘em.’
‘What if we eavesdropped first? Investigate why they are here?’
‘What if they caught us? We have to make sure it’s us who catches them. We have to trap them, but how?’
‘Your Majesty, if I may,’ all eyes diverted at the new voice, snapping them out of their heated discourse. Prince Arthur looked at his uncle, Agravaine, and motioned for him to continue. The man had arrived at Camelot a week ago, but even after such a short time, he’d gained both the King’s and the young Prince’s trust without effort.
He was Ygraine’s brother, after all. He was family. However, Arthur’s servant, Merlin, couldn’t help but look at him with utmost suspicion. He didn’t like the man. He’d just come out of the blue, as "an honored guest of Camelot”, but when he started to come along to quests and patrols with Arthur, Merlin and the knights, the warlock started to question his intentions.
It was also no secret the man didn’t like Merlin. Maybe because he knew Merlin suspected something? The boy didn’t want to appear arrogant, but most people liked him. He was nice, polite, ready to offer a helping hand, but Agravaine had seemingly decided to hate him for no particular reason. From day one. If Merlin wanted to be honest, this was what made him wary of the man. Gaius had told him he was being paranoid.
“You can’t have everyone liking you, Merlin,” he had told him. “You can’t think someone is bad-natured, just because you’re not sympathetic to them.”
Merlin had to admit, Gaius was right.
But.
There was always a but. And that was what concerned Merlin.
‘Maybe we could come up with a bait,’ Agravaine suggested, glancing into Merlin’s way. The servant didn’t miss the hint.
Of course.
He would be holding the sack, not any of the knights.
‘What bait?’ Arthur questioned, folding his arms. He didn’t seem to have noticed Agravaine’s obvious dislike of his servant.
‘We could send a knight of Camelot close to their camps, maybe to eavesdrop on them. If he gets caught, he can lure them here into this valley, where we will already be waiting for them.’ Arthur smirked proudly at his uncle.
‘This is a good plan, Uncle. All right, I volunteer for the job—’
‘—My Lord, just a second!’ Agravaine interrupted the Prince with a perfectly faked sheepish smile. ‘You can’t be going there, they would recognise you.’ Arthur’s shoulders slumped in defeat, while the knights all nodded in agreement. Merlin watched the dark haired man with a nervous chew to his lips, knowing where this conversation was going. His heart was starting to beat out of his chest, but the thought that he could offer his place in exchange for Arthur’s, Merlin couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wouldn’t see Arthur hurt for the world.
‘He’s right, Sire. I willingly offer my help,’ Elyan said, stepping in front. The Knights of the Round Table nodded in unison, and volunteered for the part as well. Arthur was about to choose from one of them when Agravaine cleared his throat to give voice to his thoughts, which apparently, didn’t fit with Arthur’s solution.
‘What is the problem now?’ Arthur asked, looking irritated, despite having enough skill to mask up his emotions. For a second, Merlin smiled to himself, amused by Arthur’s attitude to hearing so many interruptions. But that was for a second.
‘You see, Sire… This task is a dangerous one,’ Agravaine started, flailing his hands gently as he spoke. ‘And maybe we should send someone—I don’t want to sound arrogant or speak out of turn, but… We could choose someone more… replaceable.’ The knights muttered among themselves, incredulous, while Arthur continued maintaining eye contact with his uncle.
‘And who did you have in mind? Who is so replaceable?’ The Prince asked, clearly as a rhetorical question.
Merlin knew it was rhetorical.
Agravaine clearly didn’t, because he answered with the confidence of a man leading a battle.
‘Merlin, Sire,’ he said, earning a louder murmur from the knights—louder and angrier. Arthur continued to stare at him, his expression unreadable.
‘I don’t mean to speak out of turn, my Lord,’ Leon stepped in, looking between Merlin, Arthur and Agravaine. ‘But you said this task was no easy one. We can’t send someone completely unqualified, for they will surely fail the mission.’ The others nodded vehemently. Merlin felt cared for and offended at the same time. He was the most qualified of all of them, but none of them knew that, did they? They couldn’t. At least not yet. And surely not all of them.
‘Sir Leon speaks the truth,’ Arthur said, his tone monotone, yet firm. ‘I can’t send my manservant to face a whole group of bandits, especially that he can’t even walk down the corridors without tripping over thin air.’ Arthur’s touch of concern warmed Merlin’s heart, really. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
‘Your Majesty, none of us would be able to stand a chance against a whole group of bandits. One against—what, twenty? That’s why I’m saying we should be sending someone less… irreplaceable.’
Merlin saw Gwaine and his friends turning red at the mere suggestion of Merlin being less than any of them, which warmed his heart, but he had to admit Agravaine was right.
He was just a servant, what was his life compared to that of a knight or a prince?
And besides, he was more than capable.
‘Arthur, he’s right,’ Merlin said, stepping out from the defending shadow of the knights. The Prince’s eyes tore themselves away from the man who was now smirking in satisfaction. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Merlin,’ Arthur said; a warning. ‘You are no knight. You don’t know how to fight. I won’t allow you—’
‘—I don’t have to fight,’ Merlin cut him off hurriedly. ‘It’s enough if I run,’ he said, painting a small mischievous grin to his face, both to ease the tension between them and the one in his bones.
‘I still don’t think it’s a—’
‘—Sire, I think you underestimate Merlin,’ Agravaine butted in, then eyed the servant over. ‘If he says he’ll manage, he’ll manage. And anyway—servants should know how to sneak around, shouldn’t they?’ He asked, and winked at Merlin. The warlock didn’t know what to do with this action of his, so he just pursed his lips and hummed in agreement, with a frown on his face. Aggravaine only smirked wider upon seeing his reaction. Merlin broke their eye contact and looked at Arthur. He knew it was hard for the Prince to show his emotions, but after five years of knowing the man, Merlin knew what Arthur was thinking. He didn’t have to show it for Merlin to know.
‘I’ll be fine, Arthur,’ he said, with a smile less cheerful and more reassuring. ‘Or are you worried about me?’ Merlin asked, teasing him, but also knowing he was winning. There was no way Arthur wasn’t going to fall for that.
‘Of course not,’ he scoffed, and Merlin smiled.
Bingo.
Arthur took the bait.
‘Then what’s the matter? I’ll go and then we can get this over with,’ he reasoned, and while the knights didn’t protest, Merlin could sense their discomfort.
Not Agravaine’s, however…
‘Splendid! I suggest we dress Merlin up as a knight of Camelot. That way they will surely chase after him.’ Gwaine sent the man a look full of venom, but Merlin replied before he could lash out on this weak excuse of a man.
‘I agree. We must keep up appearances. So, uh… I’m afraid one of you will have to give me his chainmail,’ Merlin said sheepishly.
Lancelot was already stripping out of his and the other knights went to take Merlin’s jacket and neckerchief as an offer of help. Arthur stood at the side, watching the scene unfold as they helped Merlin into the chainmail, telling him about self-defence and how he should twist someone’s ankle or wrist. Everyone knew it was useless to try and teach someone to fight at the very last minute, but it filled them with false hope.
Agravaine suggested Merlin didn’t get a sword. The knights were furious, no longer being able to hold their anger, but the man explained himself by saying Merlin wouldn’t be able to fight with it, anyway. He needed the least weight he could carry, and a sword would not serve this purpose. Merlin was right.
He just needed to run.
Merlin was ready to go when Arthur suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch wasn’t gentle, it was firm and tense, and Merlin looked into his Prince’s eyes.
The deep blue irises Merlin oh so liked to gaze into were now dark clouds of discomfort and doubt, but what was the most important; worry. Merlin could barely stop himself from smiling to himself like a blushing maiden.
Arthur’s eyes ran over his face, as though he was seeing Merlin for the first time, and then the warlock realised: he was memorising him.
Oh, poor Arthur really thought Merlin was just a clumsy, good-for-nothing servant.
It was sweet to see this more emotional side of Arthur, it suited him, Merlin mused absently.
Arthur’s fingers dug into Merlin’s chainmail as much as it let them, and his eyes bore into Merlin’s.
‘Try not to trip, dollop-head,’ he said finally, squeezing his shoulder. Merlin’s grin etched across his face.
‘I’ll do my best,’ the warlock replied, cheeky as ever. Arthur held back a smile and nodded at him. Merlin wanted to turn around, but Arthur stopped him.
‘Wait.’ The raven turned back with an awaiting gaze. Arthur retreated his hand, then went to remove the red cape from around his neck. Merlin’s mouth opened to a noiseless gasp as the garment was placed around his shoulders. It carried the scent of Arthur, which was soon the only thing that filled Merlin’s senses. ‘Don’t get mud on it. Or tear it. It’s still my cape,’ Arthur said, though his stone lacked any malice. Merlin noticed the slightest quiver in Arthur’s voice, which he would probably make fun of once this was over. Now, however, he was going to enjoy what little affection and care Arthur was showing. The Prince clasped it around his neck, his fingers brushing against Merlin’s skin. His breath hitched, but he ignored the small sparkle. Instead, he nodded at Arthur, a silent thank you, then turned around and started walking into the direction they believed the bandits camped.
◇¥◇
Merlin approached the group of bandits, his steps light on the forest floor. Agravaine may be a snake, but he wasn’t a stupid man.
Merlin knew how to sneak around, it was his master-perk, after all. Maybe he shouldn’t be so damn proud of that, but right now it came in handy.
As did his magic.
Merlin crouched down behind a tree and whispered a few words. In a matter of seconds, his eyes flashed gold and the conversation between the bandits got louder and clearer.
It turned out they were no ordinary bandits. They were traders—slave traders.
Merlin’s attention shifted to a carriage where people were held. His blood boiled in his veins when he noticed some of the victims were children. Druids, more probably.
Without thinking it through, he went around the camp and over to the carriage. When a woman noticed him, he placed his finger to his mouth, silencing her. She nodded with hopeful eyes. Merlin contemplated using magic, but he was dressed as a knight of Camelot. He decided not to use magic unless it was necessary.
He looked over to the bandits who were eating and talking around a fire. The way they spoke of the captured women made Merlin want to vomit.
He needed to free these people.
Fortunately for him, the end of the carriage was turned away from the bandits. If he didn’t make much noise, then he could help them escape and win them a few minutes to run in the best scenario.
But luck was not something Merlin usually encountered, was it?
Merlin was nearly done helping the people out of the carriage when one of the children (who couldn't be more than four summers old) started crying upon seeing Merlin, and no matter how the others tried to calm him down, the bandits were already listening to them.
Let’s just say, Merlin’s vibrantly red cape and glistening chainmail didn’t help him mold into nature and the other ragged-clothed slaves.
The bandits all jumped from their seats, screaming and yelling as they started to run for him. Merlin didn’t need to tell the people to run, they were already out of sight.
Right.
Now the most challenging part of the plan: running.
Merlin couldn’t help but grunt as he started to run into the opposite direction the others had gone.
Say it as many times as Arthur wanted to, but Merlin was not weak. During his years spent in Camelot, under the Prince’s service nonetheless, he’d gained some muscles. Not to mention he’d been trained to run since he was a child, in case someone found out about his magic. Merlin had been a professional runner even before arriving at Camelot, but after having to run for both his and Arthur’s life (for the latter’s, Merlin may or may not have run faster than usual), it was no surprise to the warlock that running came like an instinct to him.
Merlin smirked as he started running faster, getting ahead of the slave traders at least ten metres.
‘Don’t let ‘im escape!’ One of them—probably their leader—yelled, his voice muffled by the distance and the shouts of the group.
Merlin glanced back to see they were behind him—still quite in the near distance—, but they were starting to grab for their swords and weapons. Merlin saw a dagger flying at him, which he managed to duck away from. The next one took him by surprise, and if it wasn’t for his magic, it would have landed in his right leg.
Merlin ran faster, across a field he’d come and then deep into the forest where the others awaited him. Merlin hoped Arthur wasn’t too worried. Truth be told, he did spend a bit too much time trying to free those people. He had to wait for the right moments to smash a rock he’d found against the lock, so they wouldn’t notice him immediately.
It took him about ten minutes, and he still needed to use his magic, when no one was looking.
However, the others didn’t know of his impromptu mission. For them, he was being late, and when his original task was to lure the bandits here, not to free another group of people out of their grasp, he was making the wrong impression of having failed. He couldn’t have that.
Merlin ran into the trees, but not before taking a small break. His lungs were burning, as were the muscles in his legs, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d survived worse. And anyway, he needed to let the bandits catch up to him, otherwise they would lose him in the woods.
Amateurs, Merlin thought with a small chuckle, and when he saw them nearing, he took off into a run once more.
◇¥◇
Arthur had never been so worried in his entire life.
He shouldn’t have let Merlin agree to the idea. This was madness, he had no idea why Agravaine would suggest something like this.
Arthur paced around, chewing his bottom lip restlessly. His knights were the same, only they looked more composed.
Right. Arthur was their Prince, he should show courage.
But if Merlin was out there, defenceless against a group of bandits…?
Arthur refused to let the tears escape into his eyes. He could mask up his emotions as well as he wanted to, but all beneath those layers of a Pendragon, Arthur was a very emotional man. Before Merlin came along, he didn’t need to have to hide his feelings, because there wasn’t anyone who could make him feel—really feel—, but ever since that stupid oaf stumbled into his life, Arthur couldn’t help but feel things he never had before.
Today was no different. Arthur’s heart was thundering in his chest and his hands shook, which he managed to conceal as he crossed his arms.
‘He should be back by now,’ Arthur commented suddenly, his voice low in his throat.
‘Give him some time,’ Agravaine said, collected as ever.
Arthur tried not to bellow at him for dragging Merlin into this situation. He cared for his uncle, but when he did things like that—
Arthur questioned if the man was sometimes more like his mother or his father…
‘I’ve already given him enough,’ Arthur murmured under his breath, not meant for the man to hear his annoyance. His knights did, but Arthur couldn’t care to acknowledge that.
‘Sire,’ Gwaine said, rising from his spot. Arthur traced him with a stern frown. ‘I think we should send someone after Merlin.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Sir Gwaine!’ Agravaine scoffed, but when he noticed the stunned and incredulous expression of Arthur, he changed his attitude in a heartbeat. ‘I’m afraid even if we were to do so, it wouldn’t change a thing. If Merlin failed at the task, then sending someone would be useless and unnecessary.’
‘You better hope Merlin is fine and unharmed,’ Arthur said suddenly, surprising his uncle with the threat his tone carried. ‘If it turns out he comes back as much as looked at in the wrong way, I—’ Arthur cut himself off.
If Merlin gets injured, then what?
The idea may have been Agravaine’s, but it was Arthur who gave it permission to be brought into existence.
If anything happens to Merlin…
It will be Arthur’s fault.
His men must have noticed his dwelling, because Leon placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, as if to say: you couldn’t choose, Sire. Agravaine had the perfect excuses to send Merlin, and Merlin was one man of trouble and selflessness. He would have volunteered either way.
Still, Arthur couldn’t shake off the guilt.
Soon it turned out he didn’t have to, because there was a sequence of loud shouts, along with a red cape flowing in front of them.
Arthur didn’t even try to hold back the loud sigh-turned-into-sob that escaped from the depth of his chest. The knights beamed and high-fived quickly before spreading out to take their places. Arthur followed Leon behind a tree and crouched down there, placing a gloved hand on the trunk of the tree.
His eyes locked back on Merlin who was sprinting in front of the group, ducking from branches and jumping over rocks and small bushes with something Arthur would call practiced ease.
But that couldn’t be true?
Why would Merlin know how to run with such an ease, when all he ever did was stumble around and drop things?
Arthur tried not to think of dark possibilities, but his mind was a dangerous place.
Merlin was a servant. Servants were not appreciated. Not like knights were.
What if there was someone giving Merlin a hard time? Someone Merlin had to run from—
No. Arthur was being stupid.
If Merlin had been running for his life around the castle, Arthur would surely have noticed.
…Right?
He didn’t have more time to think about Merlin, because his servant was nearing the valley, with the bandits on his heels, and Arthur had to lower his head so as not to be noticed.
However, he didn’t tear his eyes away from Merlin. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to fight for his servant. When Merlin halted to a stop, he looked around the valley, and when he saw no sign of the knights, he pulled a face full of disbelief and impatience, which even in this situation, made Arthur smile at the adorable expression. Merlin turned around and raised the pickaxe that was in his right hand, positioning himself into a defensive stance as the bandits trapped him in the valley.
‘Trapped, are we?’ The man in the middle asked, his crooked and yellow teeth showing. His men snickered as they looked at Merlin, clearly amused. The servant held his chin high, being the brave fool he always was.
Arthur went to signal for his men to start shooting, but his uncle stopped him.
‘They’re not deep enough in the valley, my Lord,’ he whispered, then pointed behind Merlin’s back. Arthur had to admit he was right.
But they couldn't let Merlin face these men alone.
‘Let him lure them a bit more inside. Then we can attack. He’s already here, Arthur.’ The Prince couldn’t help but relent. He turned his head back to Merlin, missing the smirk that moved to Agravaine’s face.
The man—Arthur guessed it was their leader—spoke up again.
‘You shouldn’t have let my slaves escape, boy,’ he sneered, taking a step closer. Merlin took one back, his hold tightening on the pickaxe. ‘You’ve robbed me of thirty gold coins,’ he continued angrily, taking another step closer. Suddenly, he started cackling, and the hoarse sound sent a shiver down Arthur’s spine. Merlin’s brows knitted in confusion, rather than fear. ‘But I think you can pay me back ‘em,’ the man said.
‘I don’t have any money,’ Merlin said, his voice even and lacking any amount of fear.
The man laughed again.
‘Oh, but I’ll get a nice price for you,’ he said, rubbing his chin. ‘A knight of Camelot, as pretty as you, I bet I could fetch a very handsome price. Or, I could just keep you to myself!’ His men laughed at the terrified expression Merlin made.
Arthur wanted to vomit. He won’t let these…these— monsters lay even as much as a finger on Merlin.
Merlin was backing away from them in horror, his eyes scanning the valley hopefully, while his chest rose and fell in panic.
Arthur couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could his knights.
An arrow flew through the air and shot one of the men who fell to the ground with a pained cry. The bandits looked at the fallen member, then up at Arthur and the knights who were now standing on the top of the valley.
‘On me!’ Arthur yelled, and with everything he had, he charged at the man with such ferocity he hadn’t known existed within him. With his left hand, he pushed Merlin behind his back, shielding him from the bandits, as his knights joined him in the fight.
The man laughed at Arthur’s protective move and drew his own sword, stopping the blonde from landing a blow on his head. Arthur didn’t care how, but he was going to kill this man. Whether with a sword or with his bare hands, he was going to end his life. This man didn’t deserve to live.
‘Arthur!’ Merlin cried from behind him, and Arthur noticed the other two bandits who were running towards them.
With an angry grunt, he kicked his opponent away who landed on his butt in the dirt. Arthur had half the mind to run him through, but the two men were nearing them and he was not going to let them harm Merlin.
He swung his sword around, quickly disarming the first bandit. The second was a trickier one. It had two long, bent swords, similar to a pirate’s and he was handy with both of them. Arthur had to start backing away and retreat, all the while trying to block all of the blows of the man. His left hand never lowered in the air as it remained raised there—keeping Merlin in a safe cage behind him.
The bandit grinned like a maniac at the scene.
‘Fond of him, are ya?’ He huffed, clearly amused as he landed another blow. Arthur blocked it. Barely.
Merlin saw Arthur was losing. He looked up at the trees and saw a branch right above them. With a quick flash of his eyes, he grabbed Arthur’s shoulder and pulled him back abruptly.
‘Arthur, watch out!’ Merlin exclaimed, as the branch fell down on the bandit before them. Arthur flinched violently and his hand came to grasp at Merlin automatically. The servant’s heart jumped at the contact, but it wasn’t the time to stare lovingly into Arthur’s eyes and think how unfair life was to keep them apart.
‘Stay behind me,’ Arthur barked at him, then turned back to face his next attacker.
Merlin rolled his eyes internally as his job to protect Arthur was hardened by the clotpole himself, but he kept saving the other knights as well by occasionally letting a branch or two drop on enemies’ heads.
Merlin looked back at the man Arthur was fighting, then with another shimmer of gold, the man dropped his sword and Arthur managed to impale him.
When Merlin was about to declare victory in his head, hands grabbed him from behind and soon there was a dagger held against his throat.
How did he even manage to sneak behind them? Arthur had been keeping Merlin in the corner the whole time!
Arthur turned around with the speed of lightning, and when he saw what was happening, his whole face fell.
The man—Merlin realised it was the leader— guffawed at the Prince’s expression and held the knife closer to Merlin’s throat.
‘Let. Him. Go,’ Arthur growled, dangerous, as he tightened his hold on his sword.
‘Why would I?’ The bandit retorted, pulling Merlin tighter into him. Merlin frowned in disgust as the smell of sweat, blood and ale hit his nose. ‘Found your weak spot, didn’t I?’ The man laughed, then traced the edge of the knife over Merlin’s throat. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, but he let out no sound. He wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
‘If you harm him—’ Arthur started, but he was cut off.
‘—Then what? You’ll kill me either way, why shouldn’t I enjoy myself first?’ The man sneered, then looked down at Merlin who was snarling up at him venomously. ‘It’s not often I find such pretty boys.’ His breath hit Merlin square in the face, and despite it being hot, it sent a cold shiver down Merlin’s spine.
He couldn’t let this man think he’d won. With all his might, Merlin threw his head back, his skull breaking the man’s nose, stomped on his left foot, elbowed the man in the stomach and tried to wiggle himself out of the man’s grip.
‘Merlin, no!’ Arthur said, but it was too late.
The man roared up and with a furious face, he shoved the dagger deep into the junction of Merlin’s neck and shoulder who let out a pained scream and doubled over in front of the man who—with frightening strength—grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him back up.
‘No! Let go of him!’ Arthur bellowed, then charged at the man, screaming like a man gone mad.
The bandit didn’t even have time to react, Arthur was already landing blow after blow, quickly piercing his sword through the man who dropped to the ground like a numb limp. Merlin fell to the ground, clutching at the dagger that was standing in his shoulder, breathing heavily and grunting in pain.
‘Merlin…’ Arthur dropped his sword and fell to his knees beside Merlin. His face was a mix of emotions, one Merlin didn’t want to decipher at the moment as his eyes were falling shut. ‘No, no, no, no, Merlin, stay with me,’ Arthur said and scooped Merlin in his arms.
‘Ah!’ Merlin cried up, one of his hands going to clutch at Arthur’s arm.
‘Sorry. Oh, shit… Um-uh—’ Arthur was panicking, Merlin could see that.
He had to comfort him.
‘Arthur, shh, it’s okay,’ Merlin said, squeezing the arm he was holding. The knights were already gathering around them, looking frightened.
‘Merlin… You-you were—’
‘—Stabbed. I know, I was there,’ he said, then grunted again in pain as he went to get a hold of the blade still stuck in his shoulder. ‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine, I’ll just have to get this ou—aaah!’ Merlin screamed as he pulled the knife out. Arthur watched in horror as the bloodied weapon was discarded on the ground, but his eyes were soon back on Merlin. The servant offered him a smile. ‘It’s all right. He didn’t strike anything important. Although, I’m sure I’m going to feel that in the next couple of days,’ Merlin muttered with a frown, but he decided all the pain was worth it, because Arthur let out a laugh, relieved and happy and so Arthur, it made Merlin laugh too.
The knights all heaved in a similarly relieved sigh as they all looked at each other. Arthur—overcome by emotions he could no longer control—pulled Merlin close to himself, enveloping him in a warm hug Merlin couldn’t help but try to reciprocate.
‘Never do this again, you hear me?’ Arthur whispered into his ear, only meant for Merlin to hear. The warlock swallowed deep before nodding his head, his cheek rubbing against Arthur’s. The move sent a fire through Merlin and when Arthur exhaled sharply and drew him even closer (Merlin dared to say Arthur snuggled into him), it was as though two worlds collided. Merlin knew Arthur felt it too. He had to have, because there was no way Merlin was the only one who could feel all this burning warmth and need between them.
Arthur didn’t let go of him; instead, he started whispering reassurances and apologies against Merlin’s ear, and if he noticed the goosebumps that appeared on the servant’s neck, he didn’t seem to care.
Merlin heard the knights shuffling away, but he didn’t have the heart to stop them.
Not when Arthur was holding him like this, not when they were so close. Merlin smiled, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. His chainmail was cold and wet, but Merlin didn’t care.
Arthur was finally giving him the hug he’d been yearning for for the past five years.
Arthur knew he ought to let go of Merlin, but he hadn’t the energy and will left. Merlin had nearly been taken from him, all because Arthur wasn’t attentive enough.
If the bandit had succeeded in stabbing Merlin higher in the neck—
Arthur couldn’t think of the possibility.
Merlin was alive. He was more or less fine, he was breathing, he was in Arthur’s arms.
He was safe.
Arthur wanted to place tender kisses all along Merlin’s jaw, but he knew he’d be stepping over some serious boundaries. Instead, he pulled back and looked Merlin in the eye.
He was met with a muddy face and sparkling blue eyes, something that had been haunting Arthur’s dreams for over half a decade.
Arthur suddenly remembered where they were and who he was. Who Merlin was. Arthur was the Prince and Merlin was his servant.
Arthur disentangled himself from Merlin and cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘Right,’ he said, turning a deep shade of red. ‘Alright, enough of lying around, you’ll have enough time being lazy in the castle. Up you get, Leon will see to your wound.’ After having a serious and very mature argument in his head, Arthur offered Merlin a hand and hauled him up. Merlin muttered something under his breath, but followed Arthur back to the knights without another word.
Once they arrived back at their camp, the knights flashed them knowing looks, then they welcomed Merlin by the fire and offered him a steaming bowl of soup.
While Leon treated Merlin’s wound, Merlin accounted for what he’d seen, heard from the bandits/slave traders, and the reason they were here.
The knights listened and by the time Merlin was finished, they were all clapping Merlin on his uninjured shoulder, praising him for being able to rescue those people.
Arthur sat further away from the group, his head buried in hands, trying to place his disturbing thoughts that had evaded his mind.
The near-death experience of his servant had clearly shaken Arthur to the core. His reaction, too.
Had his father seen how he held Merlin…
But he didn’t. Only his friends did. And Agravaine. But he looked understanding.
Still, it was not right.
Arthur should have known better by now how to school his expressions.
And what did he do today? He swept everything he’d learned under the rug and acted as though Merlin was his mistress who Arthur had returned to after a war.
This needed to stop.
Arthur exhaled a troubled sigh as he looked up from his hands glanced over where his men sat, surrounding Merlin who was babbling happily, like having got stabbed in the neck didn’t even matter to him. It really seemed like it didn’t, because Merlin was bantering with Gwaine, just like they always did.
Something in Arthur’s chest squeezed. He couldn’t let Merlin get hurt again. It wasn’t fair.
Arthur promised himself he would do everything in his power to keep Merlin safe. If Merlin didn’t get injured, then Arthur wouldn’t have to worry about him again, and what happened today wouldn’t have to repeat, right? Everything could be avoided if Merlin stayed safe and unharmed.
So that’s what Arthur was going to do:
Protect Merlin at all costs.