Merlin snippety thing
I have about a gazillion Merlin fics started and not finished, because that seems to be my MO in fic-land, oops.
Here's a snippet of one in particular I'm hoping to continue. It's got Merlin torture in it! I can't believe there hasn't been more epic hurt-comfort fic in this fandom yet. You go into fandoms like Stargate SG1 and about half the fic is of the "let's torture Daniel!" variety (not that I'm complaining).
Not sure how much of my f-list is interested in Merlin fandom (probably not very, though when I get my new laptop soon, I'm going to do a massive picspam post which will make you love Merlin if you don't already!), but here is a little bit of fic, if you're interested.
Title: ? (working title: The Merlin Torture Fic)
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: Currently PG (slight description of torture wounds, no description of torture yet)
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC. I am making no money from this, it is purely for my own entertainment.
Word Count: Snippet = ~3,500
Summary: Merlin has been missing for 52 days, presumed dead, when he is suddenly returned without warning to Camelot, left unconscious on the castle steps. However, Merlin's return threatens to spell doom for not only Arthur, but possibly the whole of Camelot as well.
Breakfast came exactly on time. Arthur heard the soft knocking on the door and forced himself not to tense up at the sound of it. He had stopped automatically glancing towards the door, though it had taken him almost thirty days - thirty painful days - to break that habit. “Enter,” he said, and continued to browse through the book spread before him on the table.
He heard the door open, and a soft, female voice said, “Your breakfast, my lord.”
“Just put it on the table,” Arthur told her, waving one hand to the space next to him. He did his best to ignore the servant completely as she moved about - she had been sent to him several times before, so she knew her way around his chambers well enough to get on with her job without direction from him. She placed his breakfast tray next to him before going on to tidy up, and Arthur ate absently as he read.
They had stopped sending him only male servants when they’d worked out that he would allow no-one to help him dress. Nowadays, Arthur was almost always awake and dressed before the servants arrived. Now they kept plying him with the prettier maids, as if tumbling them would make everything better. Arthur ignored them all - even this one, who they were pretty persistent about since he actually had bedded her once, a long time ago.
Or, at least, he tried to ignore them.
“Oh - you’ve an appetite this morning, sire?” the girl asked in surprised tones from across the room. Arthur looked up at her, and he knew his expression must have been forbidding because the hopeful look on her face faltered. “It’s just…” she went on haltingly, “…we’ve been worried about you not eating, so…”
“Well I’m eating now,” Arthur said coldly, though he suddenly didn’t feel like it anymore. Before, he simply hadn’t been able to. For the first month of Merlin’s disappearance, he’d been too busy searching every inch of Camelot and beyond that he could, too sick with worry to eat more than what was absolutely necessary. The last few weeks, trying to come to terms with the fact that his manservant and friend was probably dead, he’d been grieving too hard to think about it much.
He stared down at the bread in front of him and felt suddenly nauseous. “Get my clothes for washing and then leave me,” he told the maid, and the sounds of her scrambling around the room came to him only vaguely through the roaring in his ears.
When she had gone, Arthur left the table and crawled back into bed, fully clothed. He lay curled up with his face in his pillows for an hour waiting for his eyes to stop stinging and his chest to loosen enough to breathe properly again. Then he got up and went out to train the knights, and no-one said anything, or even seemed surprised, when he landed a blow with his sword on one man so hard that he dislocated the knight’s shoulder.
<><><><>
It had happened like this.
They’d been on a hunting trip. Arthur had only planned on entering the forests nearest the city walls, so he’d only taken Merlin and two other knights with him. Everything had been going well - Merlin had even been helpful at one point when pursuing a deer, which was a miracle in itself.
They’d split up to surround a second deer, and just when Arthur had been about to signal everyone, a man’s scream had sounded and scared it off. There was no other sound to accompany the first, and signs of only a brief struggle when Arthur ran to check what had happened. Merlin’s bloodied scarf had been the only thing left of him, fluttering in the breeze from where it had become snagged on a low branch.
43 days after Merlin had gone, Arthur had decided he didn’t deserve to keep the scarf, so he’d washed it as best he could and offered it to Gaius. The old man had given him a look of such gratitude that Arthur hated himself for not giving it to Gaius before.
Arthur had nothing left of Merlin but memories.
<><><><>
52 days after Merlin disappeared, the same day that Arthur had curled up in his bed after the maid left, was the first time Arthur had had dinner with his father where Uther looked somewhat pleased to see him. The last month and a half had seen Uther’s expression warring between concern and irritation whenever he saw Arthur. He supposed the irritation was over Arthur’s mourning the death of a mere servant so openly. Arthur didn’t care.
Seeing Uther like that meant that his grief was beginning to become less noticeable. He didn’t think that was right, because he didn’t feel as if he was grieving any less inside. The hot, clawing pain hadn’t dissipated, only become easier to breathe around as he got used to it being there.
Morgana, sitting beside him, put a hand on his arm. He looked over at her, and she smiled sadly. They didn’t speak, but shared their pain quietly together under the din of conversation and movement and servants going back and forth. It wasn’t even the full court dining together that evening, but the noise was still enough to make Arthur’s head ache.
Morgana had been good to him the last weeks. She had held him when he needed someone to be with him in his devastation, kept him company, cried with him or fought with him when he needed it. The four of them - Arthur, Morgana, Gwen and Gaius - had worked through the darkest part of their loss together.
“There are tales of a sorcerer prowling the Western Woods,” one of the knights was saying. He glanced at Arthur as he said it, looking a little worried, but Arthur paid no more attention to him than he normally would have. “It seems villagers have seen a figure wandering there at night near the river. Things have been going missing from their stores, and they see mysterious lights in the trees.”
“We should keep watch,” Uther told the knight. “And if any more happens, we should conduct a search to find out if it is a sorcerer, rather than some village boy out making mischief.”
“Why don’t we search now?” Morgana suggested. “Before something serious does happen.”
“Morgana,” Uther said warningly.
“Well why not?” she asked. Arthur put a hand on her arm to try and calm her, but she went right on, “The Western Woods was where Merlin went missing - what if it was a sorcerer who took him? We should-“
“Morgana,” Uther snapped, lip curling slightly. “That is a subject I do not want raised at this table. We will mount a search if and when we need to, and I see no need now.” He didn’t even look at Arthur, and turned straight back to the knight next to him to talk about something else. Arthur clenched his fists against his thighs and thought about saying something, but it just seemed like too much effort.
He swore to himself that he would be the kind of king to whom everyone would matter, servant or not. He would not let the pressures of ruling a kingdom jade him, like it had done his father. But it would have been a lot easier, Arthur mused, if he had someone around him like Merlin to ground him - to take him off his pedestal when he needed it. He grimaced into his stew at the thought.
There was a knock at the door then, and when Arthur looked over he saw a servant entering, looking harried and out of breath. “Sire,” he said, bowing quickly, “I have an urgent message for the Prince, from Gaius.”
Uther nodded, looking only a little concerned as the servant crossed over to where Arthur and Morgana were seated. As he neared, Arthur saw that there was blood on his hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.
“Gaius sent me,” the servant said, voice rushed and face pale. “We found a body on the steps of the castle, it just appeared there, we didn’t know - I just helped carry him to Gaius’ chambers, but he’s alive, he’s breathing, though you wouldn’t think so to look at him-“
“Calm down,” Arthur urged him. “Who was it? Who’s alive? Do you know?”
“Sire,” the servant said, “it was your manservant, Merlin.”
Arthur was up on his feet before he’d even realised it, the rest of the room forgotten as he ran for the exit. “Arthur, I’m coming, too!” Morgana cried from behind him, and then Uther shouted his name angrily, but he didn’t stop. It was only Morgana’s rushed footsteps that followed him out of the room, and that was good enough.
<><><><>
Arthur slammed open the door without bothering to knock. “Gaius!” he called, scanning the room desperately. The physician was at his worktop, frantically looking through one of his books with one hand while mixing something with the other. He looked up at the intrusion, and started to say, “Arthur-“ But Arthur had already spotted Gwen, and she was sitting next to a thin, prone body on a cot. His face was turned away from Arthur, and even though the messy dark hair was longer than he remembered, he knew instantly that it was his lost manservant.
“Merlin,” he breathed, coming round the tables, heart pounding.
Gwen stood up, a washcloth in her hands as she held them out to him. “Sire, you have to be careful, he’s not well-“
“But he’s alive,” Arthur said. He pushed past her and sank to his knees beside the cot. Gods above, it was Merlin. Paler and thinner than Arthur remembered, cheekbones standing out sharply, with his hair beginning to curl around his ears and at the nape of his neck. His lips were chapped and the skin around his eyes was dark and bruised-looking. Arthur’s eyes flickered down, and something caught his eye, in the shadows between Merlin’s jaw and his ragged, dirty tunic - the skin on his throat was a mess.
“Gaius, his neck,” Arthur said. Morgana came to stand next to him, sucking in a breath as she looked down. He reached out and lay a hand on Merlin’s arm, feeling warm, solid flesh through the cloth.
“It’s a burn wound, but how he got it there I cannot tell you,” Gaius said. He came towards them, the potion he had been stirring before in one hand. “Arthur, I need you to support Merlin’s head for me so I can get him to drink this.”
Arthur scrambled up off his knees and quickly managed to settle himself on the bed, using one thigh to prop Merlin’s head up. “What’s that for?” he asked, glancing between Gaius and Merlin’s white face. He reached down and smoothed some of his servant’s hair away from his face. His skin was clammy.
“To help him fight off infection,” Gaius replied. “He is extremely weak - if any of his wounds get infected, then he’ll be in serious trouble.” He sat on a stool next to the cot and began to tip the cup against Merlin’s lips. Arthur steadied Merlin’s head and stroked his thumbs over his cheeks, murmuring encouraging noises. It took a while, but eventually Merlin’s throat began to work and he swallowed down Gaius’ concoction. “Good lad,” Gaius crooned. “Good lad.” He looked up at Arthur, and they shared a moment of breathless wonder and relief.
“What happened to him, Gaius?” Morgana asked, crouching down by Arthur’s legs. Her face reflected the horror that everyone else was feeling. “How did he get back here?”
“I have no idea,” Gaius said. He got to his feet and went to his shelves, sorting through the various pots and jars held there. “He has been tortured by someone, that much is obvious. He just appeared on the steps outside, and no-one saw how he got there. Until Merlin wakes up, I’m afraid none of us will know any more.” He picked up one of the bigger pots from the back of the shelf with a satisfied sound, and brought it back over to the bed. “Arthur, I need you to help me get Merlin’s shirt off and turn him over on to his stomach. And be gentle with him.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, even as he was moving to do as Gaius asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gwen look away, biting her lip. “And tortured? Why do you say that? We don’t know how he got the burn wound - “ But Arthur’s voice trailed off as he pulled Merlin into a sitting position and saw the back of his shirt. It was striped with both dried and fresh blood in a pattern Arthur thought he recognised. Breath going shallow and fast, he managed to pull the garment off, and had his suspicions confirmed. “He’s been whipped,” he said, feeling numb. The pale skin of Merlin’s back was covered in half-healed welts. It was evident that most of the lashes had broken the skin when they were done. Some looked newer than others.
Something hot and furious began to curl in Arthur’s chest. With shaking hands, he helped Gaius turn Merlin on to his front. Gwen must have seen these wounds when they first brought Merlin in, and was still pointedly looking away, understandably distressed. Morgana lay a hand on Merlin’s arm, sounding choked when she asked, “Why would someone do such a thing? To Merlin?”
Gaius had perched himself on the cot next to Merlin and taken the lid off of the pot he held. The familiar smell of healing salve filled the air as he scooped some of the mixture out and began to smooth it over Merlin’s back. “Some people don’t have a reason,” Gaius said. “Or if they do, it is only because they want to hurt someone.”
“But Merlin never hurt anyone!” Gwen exclaimed, looking over at them. She had tears in her eyes. “He’s only ever helped people!”
“There are people out there who don’t care about things like that.” Gaius looked grim as he continued to rub the salve in. Merlin didn’t once stir at the touch. His face was turned towards Arthur, and he could feel Merlin’s steady, even breaths against his thigh where he sat on the edge of the cot. “We won’t know anything until Merlin wakes up.”
“But he will wake up?” Arthur asked. He’d curled the tips of his fingers into Merlin’s hair, needing to touch somehow. He stared down at his fingers, not wanting to see Gaius’ face as he answered, because he already knew the expression he would be faced with.
Gaius sighed. “As long as infection does not set in, then I hope so. He has been extremely lucky that his back has begun to heal so well. But the burn…”
If someone had whipped Merlin, then the burn was probably deliberate as well. Arthur grit his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose, and watched Gaius’ hands work the salve tenderly into Merlin’s ravaged skin.
Not long after, a servant knocked on the door. “Your Highness,” he said with a bow to Arthur. “The King requires your presence in the council chambers immediately.”
Arthur sat there, struck with the sudden fear that Merlin would disappear again as soon as he went away. Something must have shown on his face, because Morgana stepped in front of him and said in a low voice, “We’ll watch him until you get back, Arthur. Try not to lose your temper with Uther - it won’t do any good.”
He took one last look at Merlin, until all at once his grief and his anger and his utter joy all began to well up in his throat. Then he stood and, with a tight nod to Morgana, left the room. He thought he’d managed to get his emotions in check again by the time he reached the council chamber, but when he entered and saw his father sitting forbiddingly at the table, he felt his anger rush back again.
“So is it true?” Uther asked, sitting back in his chair. “Your manservant has been found?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Alive?”
Arthur swallowed. “For the moment, yes. But there is a possibility that he may catch an infection, which would be very serious. He is -“ Arthur blinked, trying not to think about it too much, about what else might have been done to Merlin that they didn’t yet know, “-he has been tortured by someone.”
Uther sat up straighter, surprised. “Tortured? Why on earth would someone want to torture him?”
“We don’t know.” If they knew, then maybe they’d also know who, and Arthur could go out and find them. “No-one knows how he got back to the castle, either. With your permission, sire, I would like to-“
“No,” Uther cut him off. “I know exactly what you want to do, Arthur, and I forbid it.”
“I want to take some men to see if I can find anything!” Arthur cried. “What’s wrong with that? There’s someone out there-“
“Arthur, no.” Uther shook his head. “You’re not going.”
“There’s someone out there who likes torturing people,” Arthur seethed. “Who likes whipping them and burning them, and what’s stopping them from taking someone else?”
Uther held up a hand. “Arthur, you’re not listening to me. I said you are not going. I’ll send some men out, but I forbid you to go with them. You will not leave this castle.”
“Why not?” Arthur demanded, outraged.
“Because I’m not blind, Arthur,” Uther sighed. He leant forward, one elbow on the table as he rubbed a hand over his face. “After the display you made of yourself in court these past weeks, I’d have to be blind not to realise how much this boy means to you, though I hardly approve. But you’re not thinking straight right now, and if I let you go out there, you will most likely kill someone at the first sign they might have something to do with this.”
“It’s my right,” Arthur snarled, because Merlin was his and someone had tortured him.
“No, Arthur, it is not.” Uther’s expression was somehow despairing as he looked up at Arthur. “I’ll even let you pick the men who go, but I cannot have the Crown Prince riding out for blood. Do you understand?”
Arthur felt like he was shaking, he was so angry. The thought of someone else coming across Merlin’s torturer before him made his heart pound with fury. But if he left with his knights, then there would be no-one in the castle he could trust to defend Merlin if he needed it. What if the torturer came back while he was gone?
After a moment, that thought sobered him enough that he could see his father’s point. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, father. I will go ready the knights, but I swear to you that I will not ride with them. If you need me, you will find me either in my own chambers, or Gaius’ workroom.”
“With Merlin, I assume.”
“With Merlin, yes.” Arthur lifted his chin, almost wanting Uther to comment.
“Then go,” he said instead, waving a hand imperiously. Arthur didn’t need to be told twice.
<><><><>
END SNIPPET
Anyone interested in seeing more?
Here's a snippet of one in particular I'm hoping to continue. It's got Merlin torture in it! I can't believe there hasn't been more epic hurt-comfort fic in this fandom yet. You go into fandoms like Stargate SG1 and about half the fic is of the "let's torture Daniel!" variety (not that I'm complaining).
Not sure how much of my f-list is interested in Merlin fandom (probably not very, though when I get my new laptop soon, I'm going to do a massive picspam post which will make you love Merlin if you don't already!), but here is a little bit of fic, if you're interested.
Title: ? (working title: The Merlin Torture Fic)
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: Currently PG (slight description of torture wounds, no description of torture yet)
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC. I am making no money from this, it is purely for my own entertainment.
Word Count: Snippet = ~3,500
Summary: Merlin has been missing for 52 days, presumed dead, when he is suddenly returned without warning to Camelot, left unconscious on the castle steps. However, Merlin's return threatens to spell doom for not only Arthur, but possibly the whole of Camelot as well.
Breakfast came exactly on time. Arthur heard the soft knocking on the door and forced himself not to tense up at the sound of it. He had stopped automatically glancing towards the door, though it had taken him almost thirty days - thirty painful days - to break that habit. “Enter,” he said, and continued to browse through the book spread before him on the table.
He heard the door open, and a soft, female voice said, “Your breakfast, my lord.”
“Just put it on the table,” Arthur told her, waving one hand to the space next to him. He did his best to ignore the servant completely as she moved about - she had been sent to him several times before, so she knew her way around his chambers well enough to get on with her job without direction from him. She placed his breakfast tray next to him before going on to tidy up, and Arthur ate absently as he read.
They had stopped sending him only male servants when they’d worked out that he would allow no-one to help him dress. Nowadays, Arthur was almost always awake and dressed before the servants arrived. Now they kept plying him with the prettier maids, as if tumbling them would make everything better. Arthur ignored them all - even this one, who they were pretty persistent about since he actually had bedded her once, a long time ago.
Or, at least, he tried to ignore them.
“Oh - you’ve an appetite this morning, sire?” the girl asked in surprised tones from across the room. Arthur looked up at her, and he knew his expression must have been forbidding because the hopeful look on her face faltered. “It’s just…” she went on haltingly, “…we’ve been worried about you not eating, so…”
“Well I’m eating now,” Arthur said coldly, though he suddenly didn’t feel like it anymore. Before, he simply hadn’t been able to. For the first month of Merlin’s disappearance, he’d been too busy searching every inch of Camelot and beyond that he could, too sick with worry to eat more than what was absolutely necessary. The last few weeks, trying to come to terms with the fact that his manservant and friend was probably dead, he’d been grieving too hard to think about it much.
He stared down at the bread in front of him and felt suddenly nauseous. “Get my clothes for washing and then leave me,” he told the maid, and the sounds of her scrambling around the room came to him only vaguely through the roaring in his ears.
When she had gone, Arthur left the table and crawled back into bed, fully clothed. He lay curled up with his face in his pillows for an hour waiting for his eyes to stop stinging and his chest to loosen enough to breathe properly again. Then he got up and went out to train the knights, and no-one said anything, or even seemed surprised, when he landed a blow with his sword on one man so hard that he dislocated the knight’s shoulder.
<><><><>
It had happened like this.
They’d been on a hunting trip. Arthur had only planned on entering the forests nearest the city walls, so he’d only taken Merlin and two other knights with him. Everything had been going well - Merlin had even been helpful at one point when pursuing a deer, which was a miracle in itself.
They’d split up to surround a second deer, and just when Arthur had been about to signal everyone, a man’s scream had sounded and scared it off. There was no other sound to accompany the first, and signs of only a brief struggle when Arthur ran to check what had happened. Merlin’s bloodied scarf had been the only thing left of him, fluttering in the breeze from where it had become snagged on a low branch.
43 days after Merlin had gone, Arthur had decided he didn’t deserve to keep the scarf, so he’d washed it as best he could and offered it to Gaius. The old man had given him a look of such gratitude that Arthur hated himself for not giving it to Gaius before.
Arthur had nothing left of Merlin but memories.
<><><><>
52 days after Merlin disappeared, the same day that Arthur had curled up in his bed after the maid left, was the first time Arthur had had dinner with his father where Uther looked somewhat pleased to see him. The last month and a half had seen Uther’s expression warring between concern and irritation whenever he saw Arthur. He supposed the irritation was over Arthur’s mourning the death of a mere servant so openly. Arthur didn’t care.
Seeing Uther like that meant that his grief was beginning to become less noticeable. He didn’t think that was right, because he didn’t feel as if he was grieving any less inside. The hot, clawing pain hadn’t dissipated, only become easier to breathe around as he got used to it being there.
Morgana, sitting beside him, put a hand on his arm. He looked over at her, and she smiled sadly. They didn’t speak, but shared their pain quietly together under the din of conversation and movement and servants going back and forth. It wasn’t even the full court dining together that evening, but the noise was still enough to make Arthur’s head ache.
Morgana had been good to him the last weeks. She had held him when he needed someone to be with him in his devastation, kept him company, cried with him or fought with him when he needed it. The four of them - Arthur, Morgana, Gwen and Gaius - had worked through the darkest part of their loss together.
“There are tales of a sorcerer prowling the Western Woods,” one of the knights was saying. He glanced at Arthur as he said it, looking a little worried, but Arthur paid no more attention to him than he normally would have. “It seems villagers have seen a figure wandering there at night near the river. Things have been going missing from their stores, and they see mysterious lights in the trees.”
“We should keep watch,” Uther told the knight. “And if any more happens, we should conduct a search to find out if it is a sorcerer, rather than some village boy out making mischief.”
“Why don’t we search now?” Morgana suggested. “Before something serious does happen.”
“Morgana,” Uther said warningly.
“Well why not?” she asked. Arthur put a hand on her arm to try and calm her, but she went right on, “The Western Woods was where Merlin went missing - what if it was a sorcerer who took him? We should-“
“Morgana,” Uther snapped, lip curling slightly. “That is a subject I do not want raised at this table. We will mount a search if and when we need to, and I see no need now.” He didn’t even look at Arthur, and turned straight back to the knight next to him to talk about something else. Arthur clenched his fists against his thighs and thought about saying something, but it just seemed like too much effort.
He swore to himself that he would be the kind of king to whom everyone would matter, servant or not. He would not let the pressures of ruling a kingdom jade him, like it had done his father. But it would have been a lot easier, Arthur mused, if he had someone around him like Merlin to ground him - to take him off his pedestal when he needed it. He grimaced into his stew at the thought.
There was a knock at the door then, and when Arthur looked over he saw a servant entering, looking harried and out of breath. “Sire,” he said, bowing quickly, “I have an urgent message for the Prince, from Gaius.”
Uther nodded, looking only a little concerned as the servant crossed over to where Arthur and Morgana were seated. As he neared, Arthur saw that there was blood on his hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.
“Gaius sent me,” the servant said, voice rushed and face pale. “We found a body on the steps of the castle, it just appeared there, we didn’t know - I just helped carry him to Gaius’ chambers, but he’s alive, he’s breathing, though you wouldn’t think so to look at him-“
“Calm down,” Arthur urged him. “Who was it? Who’s alive? Do you know?”
“Sire,” the servant said, “it was your manservant, Merlin.”
Arthur was up on his feet before he’d even realised it, the rest of the room forgotten as he ran for the exit. “Arthur, I’m coming, too!” Morgana cried from behind him, and then Uther shouted his name angrily, but he didn’t stop. It was only Morgana’s rushed footsteps that followed him out of the room, and that was good enough.
<><><><>
Arthur slammed open the door without bothering to knock. “Gaius!” he called, scanning the room desperately. The physician was at his worktop, frantically looking through one of his books with one hand while mixing something with the other. He looked up at the intrusion, and started to say, “Arthur-“ But Arthur had already spotted Gwen, and she was sitting next to a thin, prone body on a cot. His face was turned away from Arthur, and even though the messy dark hair was longer than he remembered, he knew instantly that it was his lost manservant.
“Merlin,” he breathed, coming round the tables, heart pounding.
Gwen stood up, a washcloth in her hands as she held them out to him. “Sire, you have to be careful, he’s not well-“
“But he’s alive,” Arthur said. He pushed past her and sank to his knees beside the cot. Gods above, it was Merlin. Paler and thinner than Arthur remembered, cheekbones standing out sharply, with his hair beginning to curl around his ears and at the nape of his neck. His lips were chapped and the skin around his eyes was dark and bruised-looking. Arthur’s eyes flickered down, and something caught his eye, in the shadows between Merlin’s jaw and his ragged, dirty tunic - the skin on his throat was a mess.
“Gaius, his neck,” Arthur said. Morgana came to stand next to him, sucking in a breath as she looked down. He reached out and lay a hand on Merlin’s arm, feeling warm, solid flesh through the cloth.
“It’s a burn wound, but how he got it there I cannot tell you,” Gaius said. He came towards them, the potion he had been stirring before in one hand. “Arthur, I need you to support Merlin’s head for me so I can get him to drink this.”
Arthur scrambled up off his knees and quickly managed to settle himself on the bed, using one thigh to prop Merlin’s head up. “What’s that for?” he asked, glancing between Gaius and Merlin’s white face. He reached down and smoothed some of his servant’s hair away from his face. His skin was clammy.
“To help him fight off infection,” Gaius replied. “He is extremely weak - if any of his wounds get infected, then he’ll be in serious trouble.” He sat on a stool next to the cot and began to tip the cup against Merlin’s lips. Arthur steadied Merlin’s head and stroked his thumbs over his cheeks, murmuring encouraging noises. It took a while, but eventually Merlin’s throat began to work and he swallowed down Gaius’ concoction. “Good lad,” Gaius crooned. “Good lad.” He looked up at Arthur, and they shared a moment of breathless wonder and relief.
“What happened to him, Gaius?” Morgana asked, crouching down by Arthur’s legs. Her face reflected the horror that everyone else was feeling. “How did he get back here?”
“I have no idea,” Gaius said. He got to his feet and went to his shelves, sorting through the various pots and jars held there. “He has been tortured by someone, that much is obvious. He just appeared on the steps outside, and no-one saw how he got there. Until Merlin wakes up, I’m afraid none of us will know any more.” He picked up one of the bigger pots from the back of the shelf with a satisfied sound, and brought it back over to the bed. “Arthur, I need you to help me get Merlin’s shirt off and turn him over on to his stomach. And be gentle with him.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, even as he was moving to do as Gaius asked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gwen look away, biting her lip. “And tortured? Why do you say that? We don’t know how he got the burn wound - “ But Arthur’s voice trailed off as he pulled Merlin into a sitting position and saw the back of his shirt. It was striped with both dried and fresh blood in a pattern Arthur thought he recognised. Breath going shallow and fast, he managed to pull the garment off, and had his suspicions confirmed. “He’s been whipped,” he said, feeling numb. The pale skin of Merlin’s back was covered in half-healed welts. It was evident that most of the lashes had broken the skin when they were done. Some looked newer than others.
Something hot and furious began to curl in Arthur’s chest. With shaking hands, he helped Gaius turn Merlin on to his front. Gwen must have seen these wounds when they first brought Merlin in, and was still pointedly looking away, understandably distressed. Morgana lay a hand on Merlin’s arm, sounding choked when she asked, “Why would someone do such a thing? To Merlin?”
Gaius had perched himself on the cot next to Merlin and taken the lid off of the pot he held. The familiar smell of healing salve filled the air as he scooped some of the mixture out and began to smooth it over Merlin’s back. “Some people don’t have a reason,” Gaius said. “Or if they do, it is only because they want to hurt someone.”
“But Merlin never hurt anyone!” Gwen exclaimed, looking over at them. She had tears in her eyes. “He’s only ever helped people!”
“There are people out there who don’t care about things like that.” Gaius looked grim as he continued to rub the salve in. Merlin didn’t once stir at the touch. His face was turned towards Arthur, and he could feel Merlin’s steady, even breaths against his thigh where he sat on the edge of the cot. “We won’t know anything until Merlin wakes up.”
“But he will wake up?” Arthur asked. He’d curled the tips of his fingers into Merlin’s hair, needing to touch somehow. He stared down at his fingers, not wanting to see Gaius’ face as he answered, because he already knew the expression he would be faced with.
Gaius sighed. “As long as infection does not set in, then I hope so. He has been extremely lucky that his back has begun to heal so well. But the burn…”
If someone had whipped Merlin, then the burn was probably deliberate as well. Arthur grit his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose, and watched Gaius’ hands work the salve tenderly into Merlin’s ravaged skin.
Not long after, a servant knocked on the door. “Your Highness,” he said with a bow to Arthur. “The King requires your presence in the council chambers immediately.”
Arthur sat there, struck with the sudden fear that Merlin would disappear again as soon as he went away. Something must have shown on his face, because Morgana stepped in front of him and said in a low voice, “We’ll watch him until you get back, Arthur. Try not to lose your temper with Uther - it won’t do any good.”
He took one last look at Merlin, until all at once his grief and his anger and his utter joy all began to well up in his throat. Then he stood and, with a tight nod to Morgana, left the room. He thought he’d managed to get his emotions in check again by the time he reached the council chamber, but when he entered and saw his father sitting forbiddingly at the table, he felt his anger rush back again.
“So is it true?” Uther asked, sitting back in his chair. “Your manservant has been found?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Alive?”
Arthur swallowed. “For the moment, yes. But there is a possibility that he may catch an infection, which would be very serious. He is -“ Arthur blinked, trying not to think about it too much, about what else might have been done to Merlin that they didn’t yet know, “-he has been tortured by someone.”
Uther sat up straighter, surprised. “Tortured? Why on earth would someone want to torture him?”
“We don’t know.” If they knew, then maybe they’d also know who, and Arthur could go out and find them. “No-one knows how he got back to the castle, either. With your permission, sire, I would like to-“
“No,” Uther cut him off. “I know exactly what you want to do, Arthur, and I forbid it.”
“I want to take some men to see if I can find anything!” Arthur cried. “What’s wrong with that? There’s someone out there-“
“Arthur, no.” Uther shook his head. “You’re not going.”
“There’s someone out there who likes torturing people,” Arthur seethed. “Who likes whipping them and burning them, and what’s stopping them from taking someone else?”
Uther held up a hand. “Arthur, you’re not listening to me. I said you are not going. I’ll send some men out, but I forbid you to go with them. You will not leave this castle.”
“Why not?” Arthur demanded, outraged.
“Because I’m not blind, Arthur,” Uther sighed. He leant forward, one elbow on the table as he rubbed a hand over his face. “After the display you made of yourself in court these past weeks, I’d have to be blind not to realise how much this boy means to you, though I hardly approve. But you’re not thinking straight right now, and if I let you go out there, you will most likely kill someone at the first sign they might have something to do with this.”
“It’s my right,” Arthur snarled, because Merlin was his and someone had tortured him.
“No, Arthur, it is not.” Uther’s expression was somehow despairing as he looked up at Arthur. “I’ll even let you pick the men who go, but I cannot have the Crown Prince riding out for blood. Do you understand?”
Arthur felt like he was shaking, he was so angry. The thought of someone else coming across Merlin’s torturer before him made his heart pound with fury. But if he left with his knights, then there would be no-one in the castle he could trust to defend Merlin if he needed it. What if the torturer came back while he was gone?
After a moment, that thought sobered him enough that he could see his father’s point. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, father. I will go ready the knights, but I swear to you that I will not ride with them. If you need me, you will find me either in my own chambers, or Gaius’ workroom.”
“With Merlin, I assume.”
“With Merlin, yes.” Arthur lifted his chin, almost wanting Uther to comment.
“Then go,” he said instead, waving a hand imperiously. Arthur didn’t need to be told twice.
<><><><>
END SNIPPET
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