FIC: Fealty (6/?) - Merlin/Arthur, PG-13
TITLE: Fealty - part six
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
CATEGORY: Hurt/Comfort, Drama
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
SPOILERS: Up to 1x03, to be safe.
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: 2,008
SUMMARY: A faithful and good servant is a real godsend; but truly 't is a rare bird in the land - Martin Luther
DISCLAIMER: I own not the boys, nor the show. Thankfully, they’re doing just fine.
NOTES: I made the fatal mistake of telling openskies that I was being harassed by a plot bunny. She then made me write on pain of capslock. ;) But give her lots of praise, because she also made my stunning banner!
Previous parts here.
"I'm tired. Can we stop now?"
He'd been indulging Arthur for about an hour, pretending the prince wasn't dragging his feet like an old woman and trying not to fall into a ditch. Arthur was too proud to ask for a rest, so Merlin had been stopping for hundreds of petty little excuses that Arthur hadn't had the energy to call him on.
However, after the third stumble in as many minutes, Merlin thought it was time to call it a day.
Arthur just sat down on the ground, burying his face in his hands. "Merlin, I know I said-"
"I'll take care of it," he said softly; Arthur looked up with worried eyes but Merlin just smiled. "Friends do things for each other too."
And there was that thing again, that strange fire dancing behind Arthur's eyes. It had been more prominent recently, coming out to play more often than not, but he still hadn't worked out what it meant.
Arthur had shown him how to make a hunting shelter before - the tent was too heavy to carry without a mule and they wanted to travel light - and he made fast work of it, branches twisted deftly under his fingers. Soon, the bedrolls were laid out and he half-dragged Arthur under the shelter.
He no longer had to pretend he couldn't light the fire and it burst to life, crackling softly before his eyes. It was these raw elemental spells that came easiest - he hadn't worked out how to command the more complicated tasks, such as weaving or embroidery. Those were still the work of his hands, but he liked the traces of Arthur on his fingers.
Arthur was still far too thin and he shivered under his blanket. Merlin shifted closer, wondering how close he could get before Arthur became suspicious. The prince shifted and winced, screwing his eyes shut. Merlin sighed.
"Roll over," he said, exasperation in his voice.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're in pain. Roll over."
Arthur's expression was unreadable but he rolled onto his stomach, hitching up his tunic. Merlin carefully unwound the bandage, fingers skittering over Arthur's bare skin.
The wound was red and inflamed, but at least it was healing now. Merlin wondered if he could do anything without a healing poultice, though there was no harm in trying.
"This might hurt a little," he said and placed his palm over the wound. Arthur hissed as he started the spell, the blue mist rising from Arthur's skin as it warmed under his fingers.
He took away his hand and eyed his work critically. The wound had closed and was fading to a dusky pink, the stark white of a scar the only mark of the dagger. "It's looking good," he said, pleased with himself and Arthur muttered something under his breath.
Replacing the tunic and casting the bandage aside, he carefully helped Arthur turn onto his back. The prince's hand tightened on his shirt, sending him sprawling over Arthur's chest.
They both held their breath, Merlin's face inches away from Arthur's, the prince's lips curving into a smile. "Hello," he said.
Merlin started to pull back, averting his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I should-"
Arthur held on. "Are you?"
He froze, the glint in Arthur's eyes magnified a thousand times, and he suddenly realised exactly what it meant. "No."
His lips were impossibly soft, but insistent, offering Merlin no option but to surrender, give in, indulge. He slid his hand into Arthur's hair, fingers shaking at the contact, not quite believing this was real.
Arthur winced.
Merlin pulled away and sighed. "When you're better," he said, softly, and Arthur pouted like a spoiled child. Merlin laughed and rolled off him, finding his hand to clasp it in his own.
"You couldn't have said something earlier?"
"I…tried not to think about it."
"Oh."
"Merlin, not like that." He rolled onto his side, coaxing Merlin into facing him. "It was…difficult. I can't, well, I can't do this. Princes don't just…run off with their servants."
Merlin smiled. "You did."
Arthur frowned. "That was different."
He thought the look of scepticism covered everything. Arthur sighed.
"Maybe not that different," he admitted quietly. Merlin smiled - they argued still, but now he could reach out and sweep his thumb across those lips, lean forward and tempt him into a chaste kiss.
He could get used to this exile business.
~
As he strung up the last rabbit, he felt this was a job well done. His arms ached from disuse but it was pleasant feeling, reminding him of one particularly hard training session where he'd finally mastered the two-arrow shot.
He carried the branch across his shoulders, slowly making his way back to their camp. Merlin was still reluctant to stray too far from the city until Arthur was completely well, but he was eager to escape the place as quickly as possible. Just thinking about his father left a bad taste in his mouth.
He'd left Merlin still sleeping beneath the blankets; all his magic work had really taken it out of him. Arthur knew he'd diverted the palace guards at least twice, but he was probably keeping watch every night, ready to leap to Arthur's defence. It would have been endearing if it hadn't made Arthur feel so completely useless.
"Where have you been?"
"Hunting," Arthur said, grinning as he set down the rabbits and started removing them from the branch. "This will keep us going for a few more days."
"I woke up and…you were gone."
Arthur froze - he sounded so scared in that moment that Arthur leaned towards him, reaching for him with filthy hands to caress his cheek. He left a smear of blood on Merlin's skin - marked, his.
"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Merlin took a deep breath and produced a smile. "Okay."
They prepared the rabbits in silence, the messy work of skinning and salting drawing all their attention. This wouldn't be for much longer - he anticipated they'd stay in the woods for another couple of weeks before finding a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom.
As of yet, he wasn't exactly sure what they would do. Merlin had grown up in a village but Arthur had never stayed outside Camelot for more than a few nights and he didn't really know how villages worked.
Would he be expected to learn a trade? Or would Merlin use his magic as a healer or a craftsman? And where did that leave him? The idea of a crown prince playing housewife was absurd but he could probably learn to bake a pie if he put his mind to it.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Villages," he said, absently.
Merlin laughed, but it was a gentle sound, no trace of mockery in its cadence. "You'll be fine. No one will recognise you - you'll just be any guy, doing whatever you want, going anywhere. I think you'll like it."
It sounded so alien but also appealing - no expectations, no commitments, no constant need for vigilance. Just him and Merlin and this village where they'd live. They'd have to build a hut, of course - weren't they made of straw? He hoped Merlin had some idea what he was doing or the whole thing would fall around their heads.
A gentle touch rubbed at the line between his eyebrows. "You think too much. It'll be fine."
Arthur smiled then, relaxing back into his easy mood. Yes, it would be just fine.
~
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Bathing. I thought that was obvious."
Arthur was clearly trying to drive him insane. The water was gently lapping at his waist as he dipped his head under and came up in a shower of fine droplets.
Absolutely insane.
"Arthur, it's freezing. You're going to get a cold."
"I won't be long. I just need to be clean."
Merlin sat on the river bank, shaking his head. This was the latest stage in Arthur's campaign of seduction: to drive Merlin crazy until he relented and let Arthur into his bed.
And it wasn't as if he didn't want Arthur - he very much wanted Arthur - but he was still ill. Oh, he was certainly hiding it better, but he hadn't gained back even half the weight he'd lost and he was sleeping far more than he should be. Merlin wasn't going to jeopardise his health for a quick fumble in the forest.
"Care to join me?"
Arthur had other ideas.
"It's not working, you know."
Those wide innocent eyes weren't fooling anyone. "What's not working?"
Merlin waved his hands about. "This. You. I'm not giving in!"
Arthur shot him a knowing smile that said he knew very well who had the upper hand and it wasn't the idiot on the bank. Merlin sighed again - it was going to be a very trying few days.
~
His eyes flew open and he reached for Merlin. "Did you hear that?"
"Yes."
Voices close by. Too near to distract now - they'd be upon them any minute. Arthur pushed aside the blanket and took up his sword. "I'll handle this."
"Arthur, what are you-"
He was up and away before Merlin could protest further, creeping through the forest as stealthily as he could. There were four of them - heavily armed from the sound of it, and that narrowed down the possibilities dramatically. His father must be desperate to send his guards out this far.
They weren't well trained, however, and he could easily knock them out for a few hours, buying them enough time to move further away. Waiting a few more seconds, until they were firmly in his line of sight, he smiled to himself - this was something he could do.
With a shout, he set upon them, knocking two out with the flat of his sword, before facing the others. They looked terrified - obviously, being sent to deal with the prince was one thing, but actually facing him? Arthur grinned.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll run."
They didn't need to be told twice, fleeing into the night and abandoning their comrades. Cowards.
A yell from behind him started him to life and he pelted towards the camp site, all thoughts of stealth forgotten. "MERLIN!"
He burst through the trees in time to see a guard's cloak burst into flames and a sword connect with Merlin's stomach. Arthur exploded into a flurry of motion, taking out both guards with bone-breaking force, before falling to his knees beside Merlin.
"Merlin…Merlin, speak to me."
"Ow."
Arthur helped him sit up, prising his hand away from his stomach. "Let me see."
"It's nothing…only a scratch."
"Merlin," he said, voice cracking with worry, and Merlin reluctantly let his hand fall away. It was a shallow wound and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't quite let go of him.
"I'm okay. Really, I'm okay."
Arthur buried his face in Merlin's neck, arms tightening around him. This was what being close to someone meant - this horrible ache inside him, that sick twist when he thought Merlin might be in danger. How did people live like this?
"Arthur, I'm fine. We need to get going."
"Give me a minute," he whispered hoarsely, struggling to bring himself under control. He couldn't react this way every time Merlin got hurt - what if he was distracted in a fight and was killed? What would Merlin do then?
Moist lips brushed his temple as he felt the whisper of fingers in his hair. Merlin was hurt and he was being comforted. Nothing made sense anymore.
Eventually, he relaxed his hold and looked up. Merlin's lips held a cautious smile and he was compelled to return it. "Sorry."
"You worry too much," Merlin said, kissing him lightly before struggling to his feet with a hiss. Arthur took a bandage from his pack and deftly wound it round Merlin's torso, while Merlin patiently endured the fussing.
He shouldered the heavier pack despite Merlin's protests and, with a slow shuffle, they headed off into the night.