DAY 4 - Looking for Arthur
Title: Looking for Arthur
Rating: G
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin - sadly all characters belong to Shine and the BBC. I am just borrowing them
Prompt: Lost
“Sire! Please! Please help me!”
Arthur was on his regular patrol through the lower town with a handful of his knights. Not that it was usually necessary: oh in the heat of summer tempers got short and trouble could break out, but now, in the middle of winter when the frost remained on the ground all day trouble was practically non-existent, everyone preferring to stay close to their own fires rather than be out causing disturbances.
Which was why Arthur was surprised to see a woman running towards him, crying for his help. His knights clustered around him - bitter experience had taught them that even the most harmless-looking of people could still be a threat to their prince. As the woman stumbled closer Arthur could see her eyes were bloodshot, obvious tear-tracks running through the dirt on her face. She staggered to a halt a pace in front of Arthur and looked up, eyes wide and pleading, hands outstretched as she begged,
“Please! Sire! It’s my son…” She took a breath, obviously trying to hold off the sobs that even Arthur could tell threatened to overcome her.
“We…” she continued, “We got separated… in the forest… a boar… and now I can’t find him! Please! It’s so cold and he’s only little… he won’t,” her voice broke, “he won’t…” Again she couldn’t finish it. But it didn’t matter. Because Arthur could. He won’t survive out there in this bitter cold all by himself for much longer.
Arthur knew what his answer should be. His father would never allow the waste of time and resources that a (most probably fruitless) search in the forest would be. And Arthur knew his knights knew this too - he could tell by the way they were all carefully looking anywhere except into the open, begging face of the woman. Arthur knew he had to refuse.
But she was his subject and she was asking for his aid. He would help.
“We’ll go and look for him,” he said gently, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder and ignoring the surprised looks his knights were exchanging. “Why don’t you show us where you lost sight of him and my knights and I will start the search there.”
“Umm… sire?” Sir Gawain started hesitantly.
Arthur spun on his heel to glare at the knight. “You have a problem Sir Gawain?” he half-asked, half-threatened.
“Oh… no Sire,” Sir Gawain shook his head, backing down under the prince’s angry gaze.
Arthur nodded once and then turned back to the woman. A twinge of unease shot through him as he saw her face - she looked so hopeful. Arthur knew they had only a slim chance of finding the boy, and an even slimmer chance of finding him unhurt.
“What’s your son’s name?” he asked, softly.
She looked down at the floor, apparently embarrassed, and mumbled something quietly.
“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”
She looked back up, apprehension back in her expression as she said,
“Arthur, Sire. His name is Arthur.”
Well he had to help now.
Arthur noticed for the first time the crowd of onlookers that had gathered around them: if they had time to loiter they had time to help. He split them into small groups and assigned one of his knights to each group.
“We’ll go to where the boy was last seen and split up then. Remember where you’ve been everyone - I don’t want anyone else getting lost.”
As the groups followed the woman towards the forest Arthur saw Merlin bounding up to him.
“I thought you were supposed to be helping Gaius with deliveries?”
“I’ve finished. I want to help.”
Arthur nodded his agreement, figuring an extra pair of eyes would be a help, particularly if the eyes belonged to someone with rather… unique skills (which he obviously knew nothing about).
“Ok. You can come with me - we can make an extra group.” Because whilst Arthur could turn a blind eye to the miraculous events that happened around his manservant, he couldn’t ask anyone else to do the same.
***
“Arthur!”
“Arthur!”
“Arthur!”
It was very disconcerting, Arthur found, to have people calling your name out when it wasn’t actually you they wanted.
They had been searching for some time now, too much time. Arthur could feel the cold stealing through him and he was wearing many layers with fur-lined gloves and boots; he doubted the boy was so lucky.
“Arthur. Arthur!” It took Arthur a moment to realise Merlin was talking to him and not calling for the boy. “I think we should go this way.” Merlin pointed to their right.
Arthur opened his mouth to remind Merlin who was the prince and therefore who would choose the direction… before seeing Merlin’s pleading expression and remembering that he had more skills than just those required in a manservant (not that Merlin actually had any manservant skills…) So Arthur nodded and gestured for Merlin to lead the way.
Arthur couldn’t see anything different about the route they were now taking but Merlin had picked up the pace. In fact, Arthur reflected, he looked like Arthur’s dogs when they scented fox: senses on full alert, body tense, it even almost looked like Merlin’s ears were pricked.
“Over here,” Merlin ran ahead, gesturing towards a thicket.
Arthur still couldn’t see anything but he jogged over.
And there was the little boy, curled in a tight ball in the centre of the bushes. He had obviously crawled in for safety. But he had been lying still there for too long. His eyes were shut, his face pale as snow, his lips blue. Arthur felt his heart sink as he realised it was too late…
And then he saw a breath. Only a shallow one. The boy’s chest barely moved. But it was a breath all the same.
Quickly stripping his jacket off, Arthur thrust it at Merlin saying,
“Quick. Wrap that round him. Warm him up.”
Merlin took Arthur’s jacket, stripped his own off as well, and then wrapped both of them around the small child, rubbing his hands over the boy’s limbs. He looked back up at Arthur, obviously hesitating over something.
Oh. Yes. Arthur wasn’t supposed to know…
“I’ll let the others know we’ve found him,” Arthur excused himself, walking away from the thicket and pulling the horn off his belt. Having sounded it (the signal that the boy was found and everyone should return to the village) he walked slowly back to the thicket, stomping heavily so his footsteps would alert his manservant.
Arthur was relieved to see that the boy was now sitting up slightly, leaning against Merlin. He was still terribly pale, but his lips were a pale pink now, rather than blue, and his eyes were open. Arthur pushed his way past the bushes, smiling gratefully at Merlin and then bent down, scooping the boy up in his arms.
***
The woman had been effusive in her gratitude when Arthur had placed her son in her arms, telling her he would send Gaius down to make sure he would be ok, and Arthur had actually been a little embarrassed.
There had been another sticky moment as well. After Arthur had sent his knights to warm up and while he was heading up to his own chambers Merlin had looked at him guardedly and said,
“Sire… when you said… keep him warm. Did you… do you…?”
In the corridors of his father’s castle was not the place to be having this discussion so Arthur interrupted him quickly,
“Merlin, I know your tendency to smother small abandoned creatures with your care - I knew you would do whatever you could to help the boy. I’m not actually interested in how your care manifests itself.”
There. Oblique enough for any listeners not to understand, but hopefully phrased so that Merlin would.
“Oh. Ok.” Merlin nodded thoughtfully. And nothing more was said.
***
As Merlin moved to the door that evening, leaving Arthur to climb into bed, he turned to the prince one last time and said,
“Thank you, Sire. You’re a good man.”
And although Arthur put on a puzzled smile, pretending he didn’t know what Merlin was talking about and telling him to go to bed, he secretly felt himself fill with pride.
Rating: G
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin - sadly all characters belong to Shine and the BBC. I am just borrowing them
Prompt: Lost
“Sire! Please! Please help me!”
Arthur was on his regular patrol through the lower town with a handful of his knights. Not that it was usually necessary: oh in the heat of summer tempers got short and trouble could break out, but now, in the middle of winter when the frost remained on the ground all day trouble was practically non-existent, everyone preferring to stay close to their own fires rather than be out causing disturbances.
Which was why Arthur was surprised to see a woman running towards him, crying for his help. His knights clustered around him - bitter experience had taught them that even the most harmless-looking of people could still be a threat to their prince. As the woman stumbled closer Arthur could see her eyes were bloodshot, obvious tear-tracks running through the dirt on her face. She staggered to a halt a pace in front of Arthur and looked up, eyes wide and pleading, hands outstretched as she begged,
“Please! Sire! It’s my son…” She took a breath, obviously trying to hold off the sobs that even Arthur could tell threatened to overcome her.
“We…” she continued, “We got separated… in the forest… a boar… and now I can’t find him! Please! It’s so cold and he’s only little… he won’t,” her voice broke, “he won’t…” Again she couldn’t finish it. But it didn’t matter. Because Arthur could. He won’t survive out there in this bitter cold all by himself for much longer.
Arthur knew what his answer should be. His father would never allow the waste of time and resources that a (most probably fruitless) search in the forest would be. And Arthur knew his knights knew this too - he could tell by the way they were all carefully looking anywhere except into the open, begging face of the woman. Arthur knew he had to refuse.
But she was his subject and she was asking for his aid. He would help.
“We’ll go and look for him,” he said gently, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder and ignoring the surprised looks his knights were exchanging. “Why don’t you show us where you lost sight of him and my knights and I will start the search there.”
“Umm… sire?” Sir Gawain started hesitantly.
Arthur spun on his heel to glare at the knight. “You have a problem Sir Gawain?” he half-asked, half-threatened.
“Oh… no Sire,” Sir Gawain shook his head, backing down under the prince’s angry gaze.
Arthur nodded once and then turned back to the woman. A twinge of unease shot through him as he saw her face - she looked so hopeful. Arthur knew they had only a slim chance of finding the boy, and an even slimmer chance of finding him unhurt.
“What’s your son’s name?” he asked, softly.
She looked down at the floor, apparently embarrassed, and mumbled something quietly.
“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”
She looked back up, apprehension back in her expression as she said,
“Arthur, Sire. His name is Arthur.”
Well he had to help now.
Arthur noticed for the first time the crowd of onlookers that had gathered around them: if they had time to loiter they had time to help. He split them into small groups and assigned one of his knights to each group.
“We’ll go to where the boy was last seen and split up then. Remember where you’ve been everyone - I don’t want anyone else getting lost.”
As the groups followed the woman towards the forest Arthur saw Merlin bounding up to him.
“I thought you were supposed to be helping Gaius with deliveries?”
“I’ve finished. I want to help.”
Arthur nodded his agreement, figuring an extra pair of eyes would be a help, particularly if the eyes belonged to someone with rather… unique skills (which he obviously knew nothing about).
“Ok. You can come with me - we can make an extra group.” Because whilst Arthur could turn a blind eye to the miraculous events that happened around his manservant, he couldn’t ask anyone else to do the same.
***
“Arthur!”
“Arthur!”
“Arthur!”
It was very disconcerting, Arthur found, to have people calling your name out when it wasn’t actually you they wanted.
They had been searching for some time now, too much time. Arthur could feel the cold stealing through him and he was wearing many layers with fur-lined gloves and boots; he doubted the boy was so lucky.
“Arthur. Arthur!” It took Arthur a moment to realise Merlin was talking to him and not calling for the boy. “I think we should go this way.” Merlin pointed to their right.
Arthur opened his mouth to remind Merlin who was the prince and therefore who would choose the direction… before seeing Merlin’s pleading expression and remembering that he had more skills than just those required in a manservant (not that Merlin actually had any manservant skills…) So Arthur nodded and gestured for Merlin to lead the way.
Arthur couldn’t see anything different about the route they were now taking but Merlin had picked up the pace. In fact, Arthur reflected, he looked like Arthur’s dogs when they scented fox: senses on full alert, body tense, it even almost looked like Merlin’s ears were pricked.
“Over here,” Merlin ran ahead, gesturing towards a thicket.
Arthur still couldn’t see anything but he jogged over.
And there was the little boy, curled in a tight ball in the centre of the bushes. He had obviously crawled in for safety. But he had been lying still there for too long. His eyes were shut, his face pale as snow, his lips blue. Arthur felt his heart sink as he realised it was too late…
And then he saw a breath. Only a shallow one. The boy’s chest barely moved. But it was a breath all the same.
Quickly stripping his jacket off, Arthur thrust it at Merlin saying,
“Quick. Wrap that round him. Warm him up.”
Merlin took Arthur’s jacket, stripped his own off as well, and then wrapped both of them around the small child, rubbing his hands over the boy’s limbs. He looked back up at Arthur, obviously hesitating over something.
Oh. Yes. Arthur wasn’t supposed to know…
“I’ll let the others know we’ve found him,” Arthur excused himself, walking away from the thicket and pulling the horn off his belt. Having sounded it (the signal that the boy was found and everyone should return to the village) he walked slowly back to the thicket, stomping heavily so his footsteps would alert his manservant.
Arthur was relieved to see that the boy was now sitting up slightly, leaning against Merlin. He was still terribly pale, but his lips were a pale pink now, rather than blue, and his eyes were open. Arthur pushed his way past the bushes, smiling gratefully at Merlin and then bent down, scooping the boy up in his arms.
***
The woman had been effusive in her gratitude when Arthur had placed her son in her arms, telling her he would send Gaius down to make sure he would be ok, and Arthur had actually been a little embarrassed.
There had been another sticky moment as well. After Arthur had sent his knights to warm up and while he was heading up to his own chambers Merlin had looked at him guardedly and said,
“Sire… when you said… keep him warm. Did you… do you…?”
In the corridors of his father’s castle was not the place to be having this discussion so Arthur interrupted him quickly,
“Merlin, I know your tendency to smother small abandoned creatures with your care - I knew you would do whatever you could to help the boy. I’m not actually interested in how your care manifests itself.”
There. Oblique enough for any listeners not to understand, but hopefully phrased so that Merlin would.
“Oh. Ok.” Merlin nodded thoughtfully. And nothing more was said.
***
As Merlin moved to the door that evening, leaving Arthur to climb into bed, he turned to the prince one last time and said,
“Thank you, Sire. You’re a good man.”
And although Arthur put on a puzzled smile, pretending he didn’t know what Merlin was talking about and telling him to go to bed, he secretly felt himself fill with pride.