FIC: Recovery 2/2 (Merlin: Merlin/Arthur, PG-13)
TITLE: Recovery (2/2)
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Merlin
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Some violence and injury consistent with canon
TIMELINE: AU after 'Le Morte D'Arthur'. Leon makes an appearance.
WORDS: 8,322 (total)
SUMMARY: Arthur can barely stand and Merlin can't stand to wait. A holiday from Camelot is in order.
DISCLAIMER: Merlin belongs to the BBC and Bradley James and Colin Morgan belong happily to themselves. I make no money from this pleasure.
NOTES: For helva2260, who won me through help_pakistan with generosity and tenacity!
>>> Part one<<<
By the end of the week, Arthur felt like a new man. Admittedly, he was a new man closer to Gaius' age than his own, but he could now walk unaided and hold his sword firm in his hand.
He was parrying some slowed attacks from Balin, Leon shouting encouragement from a safe distance, when Merlin and Caroline said they were going fishing. Arthur wished them well - even he was getting sick of chicken.
From the triumphant calls to Emma, he figured they were doing well but tried to keep his focus. It was growing more difficult to ignore Merlin. Not only did he take his shirt off every morning for their swim, but he seemed to be even more tired, dark circles under his eyes and lapsed conversation at dinner. Arthur would have to stop him sleeping in that chair like his own personal guard dog.
Arthur finished his training and headed along the jetty to check on their fish. Caroline carried a basket past him, as Merlin tied up the boat. Arthur smiled as Merlin pulled himself up onto the jetty, the line of muscles shifting under his shirt.
"Merlin!" he called, wanting to see that smile of recognition, the flame of joy behind his friend's eyes.
Merlin looked up quickly. For a moment, he smiled - then, his eyes rolled up and he fell backwards into the lake.
Arthur cried for Leon, already charging down the jetty. He heard Balin's warning shout just before he leapt into the water.
Arthur plunged beneath the surface, searching frantically for Merlin. He found him by the struts of the jetty, tangled in the weeds growing there. Arthur tugged at them uselessly, panic starting to consume him.
He surfaced. "Balin - your knife!"
Balin slid it across the deck and Arthur seized it, diving again and cutting Merlin free.
He pulled him into open air, his shoulder screaming at the effort, but he would not let go.
"Merlin! Breathe, damn you!"
Merlin spluttered weakly against his chest and Arthur clutched him closer, trying to quiet his racing heart.
Leon and Balin pulled Merlin out of his arms, before heaving Arthur up after him. Merlin curled up on his side, coughing up water and struggling to snatch a breath. Arthur dragged himself over to Merlin and rubbed between his shoulders, flooded with relief that he was alive.
"Back to the lodge - we need to warm him."
Leon and Balin supported Merlin back up to the lodge. Arthur wished he could be the one to aid him but, while he could carry himself well enough, he would never be able to hold Merlin's flagging form upright.
Arthur ordered Caroline to prepare a hot bath. Leon and Balin took Merlin to Arthur's chambers, because he had never claimed any of his own, and Arthur stripped him down, casting aside his own clothes at the same time.
"I can manage," he snapped, fear driving him, and his knights bowed out gracefully, though he heard their worried murmurs from behind the door.
Merlin slumped in the tub, eyes fluttering closed. Arthur pressed his palm against Merlin's cheek and clambered into the bath in his breeches, grabbing Merlin's shoulder.
"You're an idiot, Merlin."
Merlin smiled, proving his idiocy beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Yes, sire."
"Merlin."
A wider smile. "Arthur."
Merlin opened his eyes fully then. They were bright with fever and he looked sickly, ready to drown himself again at any moment.
"I'm in your bath."
Arthur looked down then and realised he was kneeling over his manservant in the bath. His naked manservant.
"So you are," he said briskly. "Better than you freezing to death."
Arthur then awkwardly extracted himself, his shoulder starting to ache again, but he summoned enough strength to pull Merlin out of the water and make a half-hearted attempt to dry them both off while keeping Merlin upright.
Dragging an old nightshirt over Merlin's head, he ignored the boy's shaky smile. "I think you're mixed up, Arthur. I'm meant to dress you."
"Shut up, idiot. You can't even stand up."
Merlin proved him right by flopping onto the bed like a dying fish and Arthur roughly arranged the blankets around him before climbing in beside him, without thinking too much about what this might mean for his bedding of maids and heirs for Camelot.
"Arthur, I have to-"
"Shut up, Merlin, and go to sleep."
Arthur's own eyelids grew heavy and he placed a restraining hand on Merlin's chest, smiling the smug smile of the victorious.
~
The sun broke through the window and Arthur, master tactician and jolly good Crown Prince, attempted to extricate himself from his manservant's embrace without waking him.
However, it seemed Merlin would not even be woken by an attacking Dragon, so Arthur freed himself, shrugged on some clothes and went in search of food and knights.
He found Leon and Balin deep in conversation at the kitchen table. They tried to stand but he waved aside the courtesy and sat down to break bread with them.
"How's Merlin, sire?"
"Sleeping," Arthur said, voice carefully neutral. "We'll train in the courtyard this morning."
His knights exchanged glances, which he ignored and ate his breakfast.
In the sunshine of the courtyard, he loosened up his shoulder with a battery of practice swings and then set about knocking Balin to the ground in as few moves as possible.
While the young knight managed to knock him down a few times, there was definite improvement and Arthur thought he might even trouble Leon given a couple more weeks.
There was a loud clatter from the royal chambers. Arthur knocked aside Balin's blade and ran up the steps, breathless and aching. Slamming open his chamber door, he saw the idiot sprawled on the floor by the window, tangled in the sheets.
Merlin glanced over and had the temerity to grin. "Hi."
Arthur knelt beside him and pulled him into a sitting position. He saw Leon hovering in the doorway and waved him away. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Stocks?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Right now, not even the good children of Camelot would throw a potato at your pathetic hide."
Arthur heaved Merlin off the floor and back into bed, ignoring the spasms in his still-healing shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Merlin. I'll wake you for dinner."
Merlin nodded tiredly and closed his eyes. Arthur smoothed back the hair from his forehead and straightened the blankets.
It was only when he was halfway down the stairs that he realised what he'd done and the warm glow in his chest told him it was right.
~
The smell of chicken broth roused Merlin from sleep and he turned his head to see Arthur finish the last of his broth and mop out the bowl with his bread.
"S'good?"
Arthur looked up at him and smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. "You're finally awake then. Dinner?"
Merlin's stomach gave a loud rumble and Arthur laughed as he brought over Merlin's broth and bread.
Merlin weakly pushed himself up, leaning against Arthur's headboard. Arthur set the tray across his lap and Merlin looked at it, suddenly daunted by the effort required to lift the spoon to his mouth.
Arthur, showing great intuition and surprising consideration, lifted the bowl and placed it at Merlin's lips, tipping it gently. Merlin brought up his hands to cover Arthur's and took a large swallow of warm broth.
He managed about half the bowl and picked at the bread a little, trying to chase away the concern in Arthur's eyes.
"I'll be fine tomorrow," he protested and Arthur snorted.
"Oh, of course, Merlin. Leon told me about your little stairwell swoon. How long have you been keeping this from me?"
Merlin stared at his hands, filled with guilt. Here he was, supposed to be taking care of Arthur as he recuperated, and instead, Arthur was having to help him eat and had let him take over the royal bedchamber.
"It's not a big deal, Arthur."
A warm hand settled over his and Merlin looked up. Arthur's deep blue eyes were filled with fond exasperation.
"You're no good to me dead, Merlin."
Merlin swallowed past the lump in his throat but he couldn't find the words to reply. Arthur squeezed his fingers, sweeping a thumb over his wrist.
Merlin felt a strange thrum of anticipation surge through his body. Taking a breath, he interlaced his fingers with Arthur's, palm to palm, and raised their joined hands between them.
Arthur looked at him then, really looked at him, and pulled him forward, his free hand pressed into the centre of Merlin's back. "There's something about you, Merlin."
Merlin replied with his lips, pressing an unhurried kiss to Arthur's mouth. Arthur responded tentatively, almost nervous, and Merlin wanted to still time, preserve this moment forever: the prince with his heart bared before his warlock.
They parted for breath and Merlin gasped against Arthur's cheek, light-headed and light-hearted. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur his secret, to finally give him the truth.
But Arthur was already pulling away, gently pressing him down to the bed. "You need to rest."
Merlin frowned. "Arthur, I-"
"We'll talk in the morning, Merlin."
Arthur crossed the room and left his chambers without another word. Merlin stared at the gaping doorway, unsure of what had just happened. Arthur had seemed to want this, but then he'd fled from him.
Merlin stayed awake until the sun fell far below the horizon and exhaustion finally spared him from his thoughts.
~
Merlin woke to the clash of swords and thought they were being invaded.
He shook off the last clouds of sleep and prepared to defend Camelot - until he realised that they weren't in Camelot anymore and the sounds of battle were accompanied by peals of laughter floating through Arthur's bedroom window.
Merlin smiled to himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He still felt a little unsteady but he wasn't going to lie around while Arthur needed him. After a quick wash, he hunted down his clothes, slightly stiff from the river water, and dressed for the day.
He felt like a bag of bones, drained of magic and energy, and the thought of polishing Arthur's armour by hand or spell seemed impossible to him. Merlin gathered his strength and went downstairs, hoping breakfast might restore him.
Caroline fussed over him, blaming herself for his sudden dive into the lake, and he tried to reassure her by eating the bread thick with jam that she thrust into his hands. He felt bloated from the whole slice but thanked her warmly and then stepped out into the courtyard.
Arthur was sparring with Leon, a series of sword blows with no intent to strike. It seemed like a dance to Merlin, carefully co-ordinated for strength and reaction. Arthur seemed to be holding his own and Merlin watched proudly, his prince golden in the early morning sun.
Glancing over Leon's shoulder, Arthur caught a glimpse of him. His eyes widened and his sword arm fell - and Leon knocked him back into the dirt.
Merlin hurried forward, but Arthur was already getting to his feet. "You idiot! What are you doing out of bed?"
"Watching you fall on your arse, sire."
Balin stifled a laugh and Merlin brushed at Arthur's back and trousers, now covered with dust and dirt from rough stones. Arthur swiped away his hand then put an arm around his shoulders, looking him over.
"Take it easy, Merlin. We're not carrying you up those stairs again." Leon smiled good-naturedly and Merlin nodded.
"I wouldn't dream of it, good sir knight."
"Though Balin could use the exercise," Arthur quipped. Balin gestured with his sword, something that might get him hanged if Uther had been present, but Arthur just clapped him on the shoulder, before releasing them both.
"Again, Leon?"
"Again, sire."
Merlin and Balin stepped back, letting the sparring begin again. Merlin wondered if the friendliness was an act for his knights or if Arthur had truly forgiven him his lapse yesterday - "taking liberties with the royal person", or whatever executable offence that had been.
Not that Merlin regretted it. If that was the last kiss he ever had, he would die happy.
"Daydreaming again, Merlin?"
Merlin started, nearly knocking Arthur over in his surprise. Arthur chuckled and grabbed his flailing arm. "You were miles away."
"Just...thinking." Merlin found his eyes drifting to Arthur's lips and watched, enthralled, as a delicate pink blush warmed Arthur's cheeks.
Arthur cleared his throat. "We're heading down to the lake. You are to stay here and rest."
Merlin sighed. "I'm fine, Arthur. Really."
"And I will tell Gaius everything that had happened when we get back."
Merlin gaped. "Arthur, no-"
Arthur held up a hand. "If it's the only way to make you see sense, I will venture into the lion's den."
The sparkle in Arthur's eyes betrayed his mirth and Merlin smacked his arm, eliciting a grin.
"I'll see you this evening. And we can have that...talk."
Arthur's fingers danced over Merlin's wrist and it was his turn to blush. He waved shyly as Arthur set off down the path with his entourage, leaving Merlin alone at the hunting lodge.
He returned to Arthur's rooms - their rooms? - and started to tidy up, changing the bed linen and preparing Arthur's clothes for the laundry tub.
However, soon he felt his strength start to wane and, trying to erase Arthur's smug expression from his mind, Merlin curled up on the bed.
Just five minutes, he thought. It wouldn't hurt to have a little nap...
~
"Hey, who's been at our stash?"
Merlin bolted upright - voices outside the door, in the courtyard. Foreign voices.
"Horses in the stables and food on the table. Nobby food too. Boys, I think we've got our little prince here."
"I heard he was dead."
Merlin slid off the bed and reached for Arthur's spare sword. He had to warn Arthur before they walked unprepared into a host of bandits.
"Nah, crawled out of the grave. Looks like it too."
"So, this is where the bugger went."
Five distinct voices from the courtyard, and two more mumbling outside his door. Merlin crept towards the window to snatch a look past the curtains - twelve in the courtyard, then. From the distress of the horses, another in the stable - and could he hear sounds from the kitchen?
This was not good.
"Well, where is he now?"
"More important, like: has he found the goods? His daddy will have our necks for that lot."
Merlin carefully swung open the window. He'd have to climb down the side of the lodge and run to the lake. The very thought made him sick but he gathered himself for the task - Arthur was relying on him.
Suddenly, the door to his room opened. Merlin turned and found himself facing two very shocked smugglers, arms laden with amulets.
Merlin climbed onto the sill and grasped for a handhold. He grabbed hold of the thick vines on the lodge stone and hauled himself out, dropping the sword into the courtyard below.
The other bandits looked up and started pointing and shouting. Merlin managed to climb a couple of feet before the first arrow sailed past his ear. Gritting his teeth, he made for the tower, a small battlement from which flew the Pendragon flag. If he could just get within the shelter of the parapet, he could think for a minute-
An arrow sliced through his arm and Merlin lost his grip, held up by his left hand and a spark of magic. He forced his right arm to reclaim its hold, silently screaming in pain. Another foot, and another, and - finally - he was over the parapet and in the shelter of the battlement.
Roughly bandaging his arm with a strip of his shirt, Merlin concentrated and pointed at the sky. A plume of red sparks erupted out of the Pendragon flag, sailing high above the trees and causing alarm amongst the smugglers on the ground.
Merlin dared to peek over the parapet and what he saw chilled him.
"Right, boy - after him!"
~
Arthur knocked Balin onto the ground for the fourth time and grinned in victory. When he told Merlin tonight, his friend would smile proudly, touch his arm and maybe lean in-
Suddenly, the sky was filled with red sparks. Storm clouds rushed in but the fire still burned scarlet in the sky and Arthur felt his body move of its own accord, racing up the hill towards the lodge.
He knew Leon and Balin were at his heels, that he should tell Caroline and Emma to stay put, that they should have a plan of attack. Instead, all he could think was-
Merlin. Merlin's in there. They're attacking Merlin. Merlin's at the mercy of sorcerers.
He would kill them. Every last one of them.
And then they were upon them.
He counted thirteen in the courtyard - and gutted one on sight, roaring with anger. Leon was at his side, tearing through the bandits, and Balin danced around them, taking them down before they could draw weapons.
But Arthur couldn't think beyond the swing of the sword and the terror that Merlin might already be gone. Where was the sorcerer? And why did they always go for Merlin? How did they always know when Arthur wasn't around to protect him?
Five of the bandits had rallied, brandishing weapons designed to cause serious damage in close quarters. Adrenaline had carried Arthur so far, but he felt his muscles start to burn. With Leon and Balin at his back, he felt they had a chance. And then he could find-
"Arthur!"
Arthur didn't look up. He stabbed a man through the neck and tried not to think about his Merlin on the roof with a sorcerer, crying for help that Arthur couldn't quite give. If he failed him now, he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself.
Then, he heard a growl.
Arthur looked up.
A giant black dog was stood on the lodge roof, facing down Arthur's idiot manservant, who was attempting to hold it off with the burning spectre of the Pendragon flag.
"Sire!"
Arthur ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled on a pike, and slashed at his assailant's thighs. The man howled in pain and Leon drove his sword into the bandit's chest.
Balin was valiantly holding off the three remaining bandits when two more rushed from the lodge door, wielding a mace and a cleaver. Leon rushed to his aid but Arthur couldn't leave Merlin alone a second longer.
Arthur raced for the wall and started to climb the vines, desperate for handholds that would take him to Merlin. But his shoulder spasmed and he slid down the wall, angry and frustrated. He needed a miracle.
"Arthur! Get back!"
Arthur staggered backwards to see Merlin, wondering why his manservant would shout something so idiotic.
Merlin raised his hand.
And the building came down.
~
It was almost worth it: Arthur's stunned expression, the startled yelp of the falling gwyllgi, the satisfaction of reducing a small castle to a pile of rubble.
Too bad he was under the rubble.
And, if he somehow managed to escape with his life, Uther would hang him outside Arthur's window.
At least the gwyllgi was dead. At least he had saved Arthur.
Merlin coughed. His arm was stinging where the arrow had caught him, the skin pulled apart by the pressure of a crossbeam and a chunk of masonry. Everything ached and he was sure he felt the sticky crawl of blood over his face.
"MERLIN!"
Arthur. He could hear footsteps not too far above him - he was close to the surface then, not buried too deep.
"The tower was here, Arthur."
"Look - the flagpole!"
Leon and Balin - good men, who would do whatever Arthur told them and didn't think Merlin was a complete waste of space. He could hear someone crying - probably Caroline. She liked him too, and he had covered her carefully-pressed laundry in fallen castle.
Arthur, it seemed, cared enough to look for him. Whether it was merely to deliver him to his father for true justice remained to be seen, but Merlin wouldn't die under a pile of stones. When Arthur set his mind to something, he saw it through.
And seeing as there could be no doubt as to how the lodge had suddenly collapsed, Merlin thought he might as well make this a little easier. Summoning up a whisper of magic from the very depths of his reserves, he conjured the blue ball light, the one he had heard Arthur speak of wondrously from his quest to find the Morteus flower.
It passed through the stones as if they were pure air, floating upwards to the surface. Merlin heard Balin's shout first, then felt the stones around him shift in response to three armoured knights standing on them.
"Merlin, we're getting you out. Hold on."
He heard the clench of fear in Arthur's voice, felt a heavy weight lift from his chest, and he took a breath.
"There! He's right there!"
A crack of light - and then Arthur's hands were pushing away stones and splinters from his face, dust darkening his hair to a dull brown and panic clouding his brilliant blue eyes.
"Sorry," he whispered, but Arthur just held his head as Leon and Balin tore away the larger pieces of lodge that still pinned him in place.
Finally, he was free and Arthur gathered him up in his arms. "Don't you dare die on me," he ground out and Merlin closed his eyes, leaning against Arthur's chest.
"Wasn't planning to," he murmured.
Minutes blurred to hours and when he came back to himself, he was lying on a blanket by the lake, his head cradled in Arthur's lap.
"Of course, I just punched with my left hand - all knights of Camelot swing both ways."
A note of silence and then Merlin was surrounded by laughter, feeling Arthur's legs shake beneath him. He found himself smiling and a strong hand took hold of his.
"Merlin?"
Silence fell once more and Merlin forced his eyes open under the weight of expectation. Arthur's open, relieved smile warmed him and he squeezed Arthur's fingers.
"Well, look who's decided to join us."
Merlin heard the affection in the taunt and grinned, starting to rise. Arthur carefully forced him back down.
"Ah - rest. We have a long ride back tomorrow. Thankfully, the stables were left untouched by...the fight."
Merlin tilted his head then, taking in their little group. Leon was smiling at him, warm as always, and Caroline sat a little closer to Balin than was entirely appropriate. Emma ladled a small amount of stew into a bowl and passed it into Arthur's hands.
There were no signs that anyone thought anything amiss at all.
Balin leaned forward. "What was that then, Merlin? The dog that, uh, wielded all that magic?"
They were giving him an out, he realised. Mystical balls of light aside, his friends were prepared to put the whole thing down to the smugglers and their little pet. Merlin felt a rush of pure relief.
"A gwyllgi," he said, voice rough from dust. "I don't know how they captured it - or trained it."
Leon frowned. "The Grim? It would be a brave man who tried to tame such a force."
"The King will have to build the hunting lodge all from scratch," Emma said thoughtfully.
"The Great Hunt will have to wait for this year." Balin patted Caroline's knee, clearly thinking on what would be a better use of his time.
Merlin's eyes drifted closed again. He felt Arthur shift beneath him and then the muted sounds of people moving and preparing for sleep while attempting to be quiet.
"Merlin? Time for bed."
"Do I have to?" The petulant whine brought laughter to Arthur's lips and Merlin found himself lifted again, Arthur's left arm trembling slightly with the effort.
"I can walk, you know."
"Like Hell you can. Half a tower fell on your head."
Merlin felt his back settle against pillows and he opened his eyes. They were inside the covered wagon, untouched since their arrival; Merlin had the vague recollection that he was meant to have done something about that but was now grateful for a bed that wasn't filled with dust and stone.
"You should've told me."
Ah. Trust Arthur not to be able to leave this alone for another second. Merlin looked at Arthur's sad eyes and reached for his hand, entwining their fingers.
"I didn't want you to keep my secret."
Arthur looked aghast. "I will keep it, Merlin. To the end!"
"I know that." The last thing he wanted was to argue, to have Arthur dragged from him by his secrecy and lies. "I trust you, Arthur, with my life - but I didn't want to make you a liar too."
Arthur kicked off his boots and settled on the royal bed, pulling the blankets around them like the old nursemaid he turned into whenever Merlin bumped his head.
"Go to sleep, Merlin. Tomorrow, we will discuss the very important reasons why you should not keep things from your Crown Prince."
Merlin was bold and slightly concussed and therefore reached out, securing his hand around Arthur's waist and dragging him closer, warmth radiating from Arthur's golden skin. "Mm...nothing at all?"
Arthur chuckled low in his throat and placed a chase kiss to Merlin's lips before settling his arms around him. "Oh, absolutely. I think you'll find the confession most satisfying."
And Merlin fell asleep, laughter in his heart and his prince wrapped around him, magic and warm and home.
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
FANDOM: Merlin
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Some violence and injury consistent with canon
TIMELINE: AU after 'Le Morte D'Arthur'. Leon makes an appearance.
WORDS: 8,322 (total)
SUMMARY: Arthur can barely stand and Merlin can't stand to wait. A holiday from Camelot is in order.
DISCLAIMER: Merlin belongs to the BBC and Bradley James and Colin Morgan belong happily to themselves. I make no money from this pleasure.
NOTES: For helva2260, who won me through help_pakistan with generosity and tenacity!
>>> Part one<<<
By the end of the week, Arthur felt like a new man. Admittedly, he was a new man closer to Gaius' age than his own, but he could now walk unaided and hold his sword firm in his hand.
He was parrying some slowed attacks from Balin, Leon shouting encouragement from a safe distance, when Merlin and Caroline said they were going fishing. Arthur wished them well - even he was getting sick of chicken.
From the triumphant calls to Emma, he figured they were doing well but tried to keep his focus. It was growing more difficult to ignore Merlin. Not only did he take his shirt off every morning for their swim, but he seemed to be even more tired, dark circles under his eyes and lapsed conversation at dinner. Arthur would have to stop him sleeping in that chair like his own personal guard dog.
Arthur finished his training and headed along the jetty to check on their fish. Caroline carried a basket past him, as Merlin tied up the boat. Arthur smiled as Merlin pulled himself up onto the jetty, the line of muscles shifting under his shirt.
"Merlin!" he called, wanting to see that smile of recognition, the flame of joy behind his friend's eyes.
Merlin looked up quickly. For a moment, he smiled - then, his eyes rolled up and he fell backwards into the lake.
Arthur cried for Leon, already charging down the jetty. He heard Balin's warning shout just before he leapt into the water.
Arthur plunged beneath the surface, searching frantically for Merlin. He found him by the struts of the jetty, tangled in the weeds growing there. Arthur tugged at them uselessly, panic starting to consume him.
He surfaced. "Balin - your knife!"
Balin slid it across the deck and Arthur seized it, diving again and cutting Merlin free.
He pulled him into open air, his shoulder screaming at the effort, but he would not let go.
"Merlin! Breathe, damn you!"
Merlin spluttered weakly against his chest and Arthur clutched him closer, trying to quiet his racing heart.
Leon and Balin pulled Merlin out of his arms, before heaving Arthur up after him. Merlin curled up on his side, coughing up water and struggling to snatch a breath. Arthur dragged himself over to Merlin and rubbed between his shoulders, flooded with relief that he was alive.
"Back to the lodge - we need to warm him."
Leon and Balin supported Merlin back up to the lodge. Arthur wished he could be the one to aid him but, while he could carry himself well enough, he would never be able to hold Merlin's flagging form upright.
Arthur ordered Caroline to prepare a hot bath. Leon and Balin took Merlin to Arthur's chambers, because he had never claimed any of his own, and Arthur stripped him down, casting aside his own clothes at the same time.
"I can manage," he snapped, fear driving him, and his knights bowed out gracefully, though he heard their worried murmurs from behind the door.
Merlin slumped in the tub, eyes fluttering closed. Arthur pressed his palm against Merlin's cheek and clambered into the bath in his breeches, grabbing Merlin's shoulder.
"You're an idiot, Merlin."
Merlin smiled, proving his idiocy beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Yes, sire."
"Merlin."
A wider smile. "Arthur."
Merlin opened his eyes fully then. They were bright with fever and he looked sickly, ready to drown himself again at any moment.
"I'm in your bath."
Arthur looked down then and realised he was kneeling over his manservant in the bath. His naked manservant.
"So you are," he said briskly. "Better than you freezing to death."
Arthur then awkwardly extracted himself, his shoulder starting to ache again, but he summoned enough strength to pull Merlin out of the water and make a half-hearted attempt to dry them both off while keeping Merlin upright.
Dragging an old nightshirt over Merlin's head, he ignored the boy's shaky smile. "I think you're mixed up, Arthur. I'm meant to dress you."
"Shut up, idiot. You can't even stand up."
Merlin proved him right by flopping onto the bed like a dying fish and Arthur roughly arranged the blankets around him before climbing in beside him, without thinking too much about what this might mean for his bedding of maids and heirs for Camelot.
"Arthur, I have to-"
"Shut up, Merlin, and go to sleep."
Arthur's own eyelids grew heavy and he placed a restraining hand on Merlin's chest, smiling the smug smile of the victorious.
~
The sun broke through the window and Arthur, master tactician and jolly good Crown Prince, attempted to extricate himself from his manservant's embrace without waking him.
However, it seemed Merlin would not even be woken by an attacking Dragon, so Arthur freed himself, shrugged on some clothes and went in search of food and knights.
He found Leon and Balin deep in conversation at the kitchen table. They tried to stand but he waved aside the courtesy and sat down to break bread with them.
"How's Merlin, sire?"
"Sleeping," Arthur said, voice carefully neutral. "We'll train in the courtyard this morning."
His knights exchanged glances, which he ignored and ate his breakfast.
In the sunshine of the courtyard, he loosened up his shoulder with a battery of practice swings and then set about knocking Balin to the ground in as few moves as possible.
While the young knight managed to knock him down a few times, there was definite improvement and Arthur thought he might even trouble Leon given a couple more weeks.
There was a loud clatter from the royal chambers. Arthur knocked aside Balin's blade and ran up the steps, breathless and aching. Slamming open his chamber door, he saw the idiot sprawled on the floor by the window, tangled in the sheets.
Merlin glanced over and had the temerity to grin. "Hi."
Arthur knelt beside him and pulled him into a sitting position. He saw Leon hovering in the doorway and waved him away. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Stocks?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Right now, not even the good children of Camelot would throw a potato at your pathetic hide."
Arthur heaved Merlin off the floor and back into bed, ignoring the spasms in his still-healing shoulder. "Go back to sleep, Merlin. I'll wake you for dinner."
Merlin nodded tiredly and closed his eyes. Arthur smoothed back the hair from his forehead and straightened the blankets.
It was only when he was halfway down the stairs that he realised what he'd done and the warm glow in his chest told him it was right.
~
The smell of chicken broth roused Merlin from sleep and he turned his head to see Arthur finish the last of his broth and mop out the bowl with his bread.
"S'good?"
Arthur looked up at him and smiled, genuinely pleased to see him. "You're finally awake then. Dinner?"
Merlin's stomach gave a loud rumble and Arthur laughed as he brought over Merlin's broth and bread.
Merlin weakly pushed himself up, leaning against Arthur's headboard. Arthur set the tray across his lap and Merlin looked at it, suddenly daunted by the effort required to lift the spoon to his mouth.
Arthur, showing great intuition and surprising consideration, lifted the bowl and placed it at Merlin's lips, tipping it gently. Merlin brought up his hands to cover Arthur's and took a large swallow of warm broth.
He managed about half the bowl and picked at the bread a little, trying to chase away the concern in Arthur's eyes.
"I'll be fine tomorrow," he protested and Arthur snorted.
"Oh, of course, Merlin. Leon told me about your little stairwell swoon. How long have you been keeping this from me?"
Merlin stared at his hands, filled with guilt. Here he was, supposed to be taking care of Arthur as he recuperated, and instead, Arthur was having to help him eat and had let him take over the royal bedchamber.
"It's not a big deal, Arthur."
A warm hand settled over his and Merlin looked up. Arthur's deep blue eyes were filled with fond exasperation.
"You're no good to me dead, Merlin."
Merlin swallowed past the lump in his throat but he couldn't find the words to reply. Arthur squeezed his fingers, sweeping a thumb over his wrist.
Merlin felt a strange thrum of anticipation surge through his body. Taking a breath, he interlaced his fingers with Arthur's, palm to palm, and raised their joined hands between them.
Arthur looked at him then, really looked at him, and pulled him forward, his free hand pressed into the centre of Merlin's back. "There's something about you, Merlin."
Merlin replied with his lips, pressing an unhurried kiss to Arthur's mouth. Arthur responded tentatively, almost nervous, and Merlin wanted to still time, preserve this moment forever: the prince with his heart bared before his warlock.
They parted for breath and Merlin gasped against Arthur's cheek, light-headed and light-hearted. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur his secret, to finally give him the truth.
But Arthur was already pulling away, gently pressing him down to the bed. "You need to rest."
Merlin frowned. "Arthur, I-"
"We'll talk in the morning, Merlin."
Arthur crossed the room and left his chambers without another word. Merlin stared at the gaping doorway, unsure of what had just happened. Arthur had seemed to want this, but then he'd fled from him.
Merlin stayed awake until the sun fell far below the horizon and exhaustion finally spared him from his thoughts.
~
Merlin woke to the clash of swords and thought they were being invaded.
He shook off the last clouds of sleep and prepared to defend Camelot - until he realised that they weren't in Camelot anymore and the sounds of battle were accompanied by peals of laughter floating through Arthur's bedroom window.
Merlin smiled to himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He still felt a little unsteady but he wasn't going to lie around while Arthur needed him. After a quick wash, he hunted down his clothes, slightly stiff from the river water, and dressed for the day.
He felt like a bag of bones, drained of magic and energy, and the thought of polishing Arthur's armour by hand or spell seemed impossible to him. Merlin gathered his strength and went downstairs, hoping breakfast might restore him.
Caroline fussed over him, blaming herself for his sudden dive into the lake, and he tried to reassure her by eating the bread thick with jam that she thrust into his hands. He felt bloated from the whole slice but thanked her warmly and then stepped out into the courtyard.
Arthur was sparring with Leon, a series of sword blows with no intent to strike. It seemed like a dance to Merlin, carefully co-ordinated for strength and reaction. Arthur seemed to be holding his own and Merlin watched proudly, his prince golden in the early morning sun.
Glancing over Leon's shoulder, Arthur caught a glimpse of him. His eyes widened and his sword arm fell - and Leon knocked him back into the dirt.
Merlin hurried forward, but Arthur was already getting to his feet. "You idiot! What are you doing out of bed?"
"Watching you fall on your arse, sire."
Balin stifled a laugh and Merlin brushed at Arthur's back and trousers, now covered with dust and dirt from rough stones. Arthur swiped away his hand then put an arm around his shoulders, looking him over.
"Take it easy, Merlin. We're not carrying you up those stairs again." Leon smiled good-naturedly and Merlin nodded.
"I wouldn't dream of it, good sir knight."
"Though Balin could use the exercise," Arthur quipped. Balin gestured with his sword, something that might get him hanged if Uther had been present, but Arthur just clapped him on the shoulder, before releasing them both.
"Again, Leon?"
"Again, sire."
Merlin and Balin stepped back, letting the sparring begin again. Merlin wondered if the friendliness was an act for his knights or if Arthur had truly forgiven him his lapse yesterday - "taking liberties with the royal person", or whatever executable offence that had been.
Not that Merlin regretted it. If that was the last kiss he ever had, he would die happy.
"Daydreaming again, Merlin?"
Merlin started, nearly knocking Arthur over in his surprise. Arthur chuckled and grabbed his flailing arm. "You were miles away."
"Just...thinking." Merlin found his eyes drifting to Arthur's lips and watched, enthralled, as a delicate pink blush warmed Arthur's cheeks.
Arthur cleared his throat. "We're heading down to the lake. You are to stay here and rest."
Merlin sighed. "I'm fine, Arthur. Really."
"And I will tell Gaius everything that had happened when we get back."
Merlin gaped. "Arthur, no-"
Arthur held up a hand. "If it's the only way to make you see sense, I will venture into the lion's den."
The sparkle in Arthur's eyes betrayed his mirth and Merlin smacked his arm, eliciting a grin.
"I'll see you this evening. And we can have that...talk."
Arthur's fingers danced over Merlin's wrist and it was his turn to blush. He waved shyly as Arthur set off down the path with his entourage, leaving Merlin alone at the hunting lodge.
He returned to Arthur's rooms - their rooms? - and started to tidy up, changing the bed linen and preparing Arthur's clothes for the laundry tub.
However, soon he felt his strength start to wane and, trying to erase Arthur's smug expression from his mind, Merlin curled up on the bed.
Just five minutes, he thought. It wouldn't hurt to have a little nap...
~
"Hey, who's been at our stash?"
Merlin bolted upright - voices outside the door, in the courtyard. Foreign voices.
"Horses in the stables and food on the table. Nobby food too. Boys, I think we've got our little prince here."
"I heard he was dead."
Merlin slid off the bed and reached for Arthur's spare sword. He had to warn Arthur before they walked unprepared into a host of bandits.
"Nah, crawled out of the grave. Looks like it too."
"So, this is where the bugger went."
Five distinct voices from the courtyard, and two more mumbling outside his door. Merlin crept towards the window to snatch a look past the curtains - twelve in the courtyard, then. From the distress of the horses, another in the stable - and could he hear sounds from the kitchen?
This was not good.
"Well, where is he now?"
"More important, like: has he found the goods? His daddy will have our necks for that lot."
Merlin carefully swung open the window. He'd have to climb down the side of the lodge and run to the lake. The very thought made him sick but he gathered himself for the task - Arthur was relying on him.
Suddenly, the door to his room opened. Merlin turned and found himself facing two very shocked smugglers, arms laden with amulets.
Merlin climbed onto the sill and grasped for a handhold. He grabbed hold of the thick vines on the lodge stone and hauled himself out, dropping the sword into the courtyard below.
The other bandits looked up and started pointing and shouting. Merlin managed to climb a couple of feet before the first arrow sailed past his ear. Gritting his teeth, he made for the tower, a small battlement from which flew the Pendragon flag. If he could just get within the shelter of the parapet, he could think for a minute-
An arrow sliced through his arm and Merlin lost his grip, held up by his left hand and a spark of magic. He forced his right arm to reclaim its hold, silently screaming in pain. Another foot, and another, and - finally - he was over the parapet and in the shelter of the battlement.
Roughly bandaging his arm with a strip of his shirt, Merlin concentrated and pointed at the sky. A plume of red sparks erupted out of the Pendragon flag, sailing high above the trees and causing alarm amongst the smugglers on the ground.
Merlin dared to peek over the parapet and what he saw chilled him.
"Right, boy - after him!"
~
Arthur knocked Balin onto the ground for the fourth time and grinned in victory. When he told Merlin tonight, his friend would smile proudly, touch his arm and maybe lean in-
Suddenly, the sky was filled with red sparks. Storm clouds rushed in but the fire still burned scarlet in the sky and Arthur felt his body move of its own accord, racing up the hill towards the lodge.
He knew Leon and Balin were at his heels, that he should tell Caroline and Emma to stay put, that they should have a plan of attack. Instead, all he could think was-
Merlin. Merlin's in there. They're attacking Merlin. Merlin's at the mercy of sorcerers.
He would kill them. Every last one of them.
And then they were upon them.
He counted thirteen in the courtyard - and gutted one on sight, roaring with anger. Leon was at his side, tearing through the bandits, and Balin danced around them, taking them down before they could draw weapons.
But Arthur couldn't think beyond the swing of the sword and the terror that Merlin might already be gone. Where was the sorcerer? And why did they always go for Merlin? How did they always know when Arthur wasn't around to protect him?
Five of the bandits had rallied, brandishing weapons designed to cause serious damage in close quarters. Adrenaline had carried Arthur so far, but he felt his muscles start to burn. With Leon and Balin at his back, he felt they had a chance. And then he could find-
"Arthur!"
Arthur didn't look up. He stabbed a man through the neck and tried not to think about his Merlin on the roof with a sorcerer, crying for help that Arthur couldn't quite give. If he failed him now, he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself.
Then, he heard a growl.
Arthur looked up.
A giant black dog was stood on the lodge roof, facing down Arthur's idiot manservant, who was attempting to hold it off with the burning spectre of the Pendragon flag.
"Sire!"
Arthur ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled on a pike, and slashed at his assailant's thighs. The man howled in pain and Leon drove his sword into the bandit's chest.
Balin was valiantly holding off the three remaining bandits when two more rushed from the lodge door, wielding a mace and a cleaver. Leon rushed to his aid but Arthur couldn't leave Merlin alone a second longer.
Arthur raced for the wall and started to climb the vines, desperate for handholds that would take him to Merlin. But his shoulder spasmed and he slid down the wall, angry and frustrated. He needed a miracle.
"Arthur! Get back!"
Arthur staggered backwards to see Merlin, wondering why his manservant would shout something so idiotic.
Merlin raised his hand.
And the building came down.
~
It was almost worth it: Arthur's stunned expression, the startled yelp of the falling gwyllgi, the satisfaction of reducing a small castle to a pile of rubble.
Too bad he was under the rubble.
And, if he somehow managed to escape with his life, Uther would hang him outside Arthur's window.
At least the gwyllgi was dead. At least he had saved Arthur.
Merlin coughed. His arm was stinging where the arrow had caught him, the skin pulled apart by the pressure of a crossbeam and a chunk of masonry. Everything ached and he was sure he felt the sticky crawl of blood over his face.
"MERLIN!"
Arthur. He could hear footsteps not too far above him - he was close to the surface then, not buried too deep.
"The tower was here, Arthur."
"Look - the flagpole!"
Leon and Balin - good men, who would do whatever Arthur told them and didn't think Merlin was a complete waste of space. He could hear someone crying - probably Caroline. She liked him too, and he had covered her carefully-pressed laundry in fallen castle.
Arthur, it seemed, cared enough to look for him. Whether it was merely to deliver him to his father for true justice remained to be seen, but Merlin wouldn't die under a pile of stones. When Arthur set his mind to something, he saw it through.
And seeing as there could be no doubt as to how the lodge had suddenly collapsed, Merlin thought he might as well make this a little easier. Summoning up a whisper of magic from the very depths of his reserves, he conjured the blue ball light, the one he had heard Arthur speak of wondrously from his quest to find the Morteus flower.
It passed through the stones as if they were pure air, floating upwards to the surface. Merlin heard Balin's shout first, then felt the stones around him shift in response to three armoured knights standing on them.
"Merlin, we're getting you out. Hold on."
He heard the clench of fear in Arthur's voice, felt a heavy weight lift from his chest, and he took a breath.
"There! He's right there!"
A crack of light - and then Arthur's hands were pushing away stones and splinters from his face, dust darkening his hair to a dull brown and panic clouding his brilliant blue eyes.
"Sorry," he whispered, but Arthur just held his head as Leon and Balin tore away the larger pieces of lodge that still pinned him in place.
Finally, he was free and Arthur gathered him up in his arms. "Don't you dare die on me," he ground out and Merlin closed his eyes, leaning against Arthur's chest.
"Wasn't planning to," he murmured.
Minutes blurred to hours and when he came back to himself, he was lying on a blanket by the lake, his head cradled in Arthur's lap.
"Of course, I just punched with my left hand - all knights of Camelot swing both ways."
A note of silence and then Merlin was surrounded by laughter, feeling Arthur's legs shake beneath him. He found himself smiling and a strong hand took hold of his.
"Merlin?"
Silence fell once more and Merlin forced his eyes open under the weight of expectation. Arthur's open, relieved smile warmed him and he squeezed Arthur's fingers.
"Well, look who's decided to join us."
Merlin heard the affection in the taunt and grinned, starting to rise. Arthur carefully forced him back down.
"Ah - rest. We have a long ride back tomorrow. Thankfully, the stables were left untouched by...the fight."
Merlin tilted his head then, taking in their little group. Leon was smiling at him, warm as always, and Caroline sat a little closer to Balin than was entirely appropriate. Emma ladled a small amount of stew into a bowl and passed it into Arthur's hands.
There were no signs that anyone thought anything amiss at all.
Balin leaned forward. "What was that then, Merlin? The dog that, uh, wielded all that magic?"
They were giving him an out, he realised. Mystical balls of light aside, his friends were prepared to put the whole thing down to the smugglers and their little pet. Merlin felt a rush of pure relief.
"A gwyllgi," he said, voice rough from dust. "I don't know how they captured it - or trained it."
Leon frowned. "The Grim? It would be a brave man who tried to tame such a force."
"The King will have to build the hunting lodge all from scratch," Emma said thoughtfully.
"The Great Hunt will have to wait for this year." Balin patted Caroline's knee, clearly thinking on what would be a better use of his time.
Merlin's eyes drifted closed again. He felt Arthur shift beneath him and then the muted sounds of people moving and preparing for sleep while attempting to be quiet.
"Merlin? Time for bed."
"Do I have to?" The petulant whine brought laughter to Arthur's lips and Merlin found himself lifted again, Arthur's left arm trembling slightly with the effort.
"I can walk, you know."
"Like Hell you can. Half a tower fell on your head."
Merlin felt his back settle against pillows and he opened his eyes. They were inside the covered wagon, untouched since their arrival; Merlin had the vague recollection that he was meant to have done something about that but was now grateful for a bed that wasn't filled with dust and stone.
"You should've told me."
Ah. Trust Arthur not to be able to leave this alone for another second. Merlin looked at Arthur's sad eyes and reached for his hand, entwining their fingers.
"I didn't want you to keep my secret."
Arthur looked aghast. "I will keep it, Merlin. To the end!"
"I know that." The last thing he wanted was to argue, to have Arthur dragged from him by his secrecy and lies. "I trust you, Arthur, with my life - but I didn't want to make you a liar too."
Arthur kicked off his boots and settled on the royal bed, pulling the blankets around them like the old nursemaid he turned into whenever Merlin bumped his head.
"Go to sleep, Merlin. Tomorrow, we will discuss the very important reasons why you should not keep things from your Crown Prince."
Merlin was bold and slightly concussed and therefore reached out, securing his hand around Arthur's waist and dragging him closer, warmth radiating from Arthur's golden skin. "Mm...nothing at all?"
Arthur chuckled low in his throat and placed a chase kiss to Merlin's lips before settling his arms around him. "Oh, absolutely. I think you'll find the confession most satisfying."
And Merlin fell asleep, laughter in his heart and his prince wrapped around him, magic and warm and home.