Unravelling Destiny, Chapter 14.
Author: Loopstagirl
Title: Unravelling Destiny
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4899
Spoilers: None
It was the pounding in his head that originally brought Leon back to consciousness with a groan. He lurched into a strange sitting position, one hand resting shakily on a nearby tree as he tried to stop himself from vomiting everywhere. There was a resonating thud in the back of his head which he couldn’t quite account for and his left eye was practically swollen shut from where Eric had struck him.
Thinking about Eric made Leon groan again as he navigated himself around until he was fully leaning back on the tree. Would the other knights even realise he was missing yet? He knew what a talented liar Eric was, no doubt the man had just insisted that they were mistaken, that Bors had sent Leon off with the other groups. It was well known that Bors didn’t particularly like Leon, his close relationship with the prince being something of a great annoyance to the man. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if Bors tried to weaken that relationship by making sure that Leon wasn’t in the rescue party. Even Arthur couldn’t find a way to give his favourite knight the credit if the man wasn’t even there.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother Leon. He served because it was his duty, and any honour that came his way because of it was just an added bonus. Unlike some of the others, he didn’t try and seek out honour in the same way, didn’t put himself in front of the other men just so that he could say a victory was his doing. If he was honest, Leon wasn’t sure he had the skill to do that, there was something political about arranging a situation in order for one person to make sure that they were the ones being noticed, regardless of their actual role. But what was worrying Leon was Eric’s attitude towards Arthur. To what extent would the man go to make sure that he wasn’t disgraced? Arthur was the one thing that stood between him and the King, and if Jorah spoke... Leon knew full well that Arthur was more believing of those he had previously dismissed, ever since Merlin came into his service. He might know that Jorah was just a coward covering his own skin, but he would still listen...
Gripping onto the tree, Leon forced himself upright, ignoring the way the world seemed to spin somewhat alarmingly in front of him and his stomach rolled in protest at the moment. There was no point sitting here thinking about what could possibly happen, he had to get out there... Whether to find Arthur and just save him, or find Bors and the others to warn them about Eric, Leon wasn’t yet sure. He knew the knights would be trying to track Arthur, so all he had to do was follow their trail and he was bound to find one or the other. Leon couldn’t stop the rush of relief from flooding through him as he realised that Eric had left him his sword. Trying not to think about whether that meant the man truly thought that he was no longer a threat, Leon closed his hand around the pommel. It seemed to lend him strength, giving him something to grip onto and focus on as his head twisted back around to clearing. Knowing that this wasn’t going to be easy, he pushed himself away from the tree and slowly but surely began to walk.
It took him far longer than he was happy with in order to stumble back to where they had made camp. His mind had been so preoccupied when they had bedded down that he had kept himself to the edge. Now, however, he was thankful about that. It meant that all of his belongings were still right where he had left them, and taking a long swig of water and nibbling on a small piece of bread helped the pounding fade away ever so slightly. The bright sunlight streaming through the trees indicated he had been unconscious for a reasonable length of time, and Leon was just thankful that Eric’s words about bandits hadn’t come true. In his current state, there was no way he would be able to survive an attack. Knowing that he had to move before his very thoughts jinked his good luck, Leon hoisted his pack onto his back and began the slow task of putting one foot in front of the other.
The one thing that he was thankful for was the fact that he was trying to track the others. It meant that he could stop numerous times in order to check where he was going and therefore didn’t feel quite as bad about his lack of speed. Every step sent a driving pain through his skull and more than once he had to use the forest in order to support himself. Precisely how hard had Eric hit him? He knew if he had felt like this back in Camelot, he would have been sent straight to Gaius.
But then the image of Merlin’s bloodied jacket swam before his mind, coupled with the scarf that Eric had presented as “evidence” of Merlin’s death. Leon still had it, tucked in the top of his pack. He wasn’t sure why, yet he felt like it was up to him to try and return it to its rightful owner if he could. Of course, he had absolutely no idea where Merlin was now, if he was still indeed alive. The forest was riddled with danger, and the servant would have been alone and unarmed. Leon had a horrible feeling that he was wounded as well. He knew what Eric was like, knew how the man viewed the serving staff. The blood had been Merlin’s, of that he was sure. But knowing that the servant had somehow been tricked by those he would have trusted, sold as a slave and injured, yet had still been able to escape... It gave Leon a sense of determination he wasn’t sure he had ever truly felt before and kept putting one foot in front of the other, regardless of how it was making him feel. Not to mention it meant that he wanted to get to Arthur before the others even more now. He didn’t want Eric to start telling the prince stories about what had happened to his servant whilst Arthur was missing. He knew how protective the young royal was of his staff, even if it didn’t show, and Merlin’s arrival in Camelot had only heightened that. He might shrug off anything that happened to the boy with a flippant comment, but Leon knew that if Arthur found out that Merlin had been “killed” whilst out looking for his master, he would never be able to forgive himself.
He followed the trail determinedly for a couple of hours, rolling his eyes at times at the route Bors was taking the men. He seemed to be sticking to the main path, as if he expected Arthur to simply be waiting for him around the next fallen log. Leon knew Arthur better than that. He knew that if the prince did escape, he would keep to the high ground, travelling along routes that were only known to those who knew the forest well. He would try and get the upper hand over his kidnapper.
As Bors’ tracks lead down to the main route, Leon stopped, shaking his head in disbelief. He may be sore and tired, but this wasn’t making sense. Why was Bors doing this? In the back of his mind, Leon knew. The man was just picking a direction, taking the most direct route to cover more ground. That was fine if they were in pursuit of something, but they weren’t. They were trying to find Arthur, meaning it didn’t matter how fast they travelled. They need accuracy, not speed, and Leon had had enough of going against his instinct. He didn’t care about honour and glory, he just cared about getting Arthur safely back in Camelot.
Coming to a stop, the knight craned his head up, staring at the far denser foliage that rested along the gently sloping ground. Very slowly, he took one step, then another, leaving the tracks that the rest of the men had made and beginning to work his way up the slope. It was painful going, and Leon knew that it was taking him almost double the amount of time that he could have done it in if it wasn’t for the blow to his head. Muttering curses about Eric under his breath - why did it have to be now out of all the times could the man’s unsavoury side be revealed? Why couldn’t it have waited until Arthur was safe? - Leon tried to ignore the pounding in his head and carefully focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
By the time he made it to the top of the slope, Leon was panting heavily, his head throbbing and his vision swimming slightly. But apart from the denser foliage up here compared to down on the main path, he knew that the hard part was over. The ground was flat and easy going now he had made it to the top. Even with having to search behind almost every tree and bush for the missing prince, he knew that he now had something to work with. Despite being on his own and injured, Leon knew he had far more chance of finding Arthur from up here than the others did scouting the ground below.
That didn’t mean it was going to be easy, however. He had only just begun to check the ground for any tracks when a wave of dizziness overcame him. Knowing that he had no choice but to stop, Leon sat down heavily, pulling out his water skin and taking a long draught, almost sighing in relief as the feelings began to pass slightly. He bent over and rested his head against his legs for a moment. Somehow, the cool fabric against his throbbing eye was soothing. Sighing in weariness, Leon made to close his eyes, to find some way of gaining the strength that he needed in order to continue.
But before his eyes shut, something caught their attention. Frowning, Leon stretched out his hand to the splash of colour just in front of him that had drawn his gaze. His head lifted as his frown deepened and he rocked forward so that he was on his knees rather than just sitting there. Tugging off his gloves, he touched the rusty-coloured substance again, and knew instantly what it was. Blood.
Unbidden, his eyes then were drawn back to his pack. It was still open from where he had picked out his water skin, and he could see the patch of coloured material just peeking through. Swallowing hard, Leon stretched out a hand and pulled the neckerchief from its resting point, staring at it intently for a few moments before glancing back towards the blood. Anyone could be in these forests, ordinary people and bandits alike. The blood might not have been human, but someone wounded animal staggering through. It was at around the height of Leon’s thigh if he stood up, meaning it could belong to anything. Yet somehow, the knight couldn’t shake the feeling that was beginning to lodge itself in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure whether it was relief or worry, but he was almost convinced that Merlin had passed through this way.
His own weariness once more forgotten, Leon stuffed the scarf and his water skin away, hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, pulled on his gloves and started moving again. Very carefully, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything, he began to track. There were a few blood smears in places, at other times it was where a branch had been bent back, but there was enough for a seasoned hunter such as the knight to be able to read the signs. Someone had been this way, not that long ago, maybe a few hours at the most? Rather than tracking a group of highly skilled knights sworn to protect Camelot and her royals, Leon found himself following the marks he believed to be left by an incredibly loyal servant. He didn’t know if this was Merlin, or if it was why he had the feeling it would lead him to Arthur. Yet he knew that now he had seen the marks, he wouldn’t be able to let it go.
Moving stealthy but with a speed he hadn’t managed to accomplish before, Leon found himself covering ground as he was led further into the forest. He felt like he had been walking for hours when the forest suddenly gave way to a spacious clearing, a sheer rock face staring back at him from the other side of it. Frowning, Leon stepped out into it. For some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he found that he had shrugged off his pack and drawn his sword almost before he had realised it. Why did it feel like something had led him here, something other than just the telltale signs of where someone had walked the same route before him?
The questions buzzing around his mind, however, were quickly and efficiently cut off as the whole ground seemed to shake. Staring in astonishment, Leon braced himself the best he could, but realised that the movement was coming from within the cave itself. With one hand resting against a tree, Leon could only watch, open mouthed, as a huge plume of dust seemed to waft almost lazily out from one of the many openings scattered along the rock face. Once it had cleared slightly, Leon knew what he had to do. He had to go in there.
The grip on his sword tightened, all the pain in his head forgotten about as he ran swiftly for the entrance. He knew that it might be dangerous, unstable even, walking straight into what he assumed was going to be caves considering part of it had just collapsed. But it was like there was something pulling at him, someone screaming out for help. Someone in this cave needed him, and despite his mistrust of anything even vaguely magical, the knight just told himself that it was his instincts and pressed on.
“Arthur!!”
The scream made him stop short, before swearing and breaking into a full run. It wasn’t only the words - although that would have been enough to make Leon run, for how many Arthur’s could there be lost in the forest - it was the fact that up until very recently, he had believed the owner of that voice to be dead. The sound had given him enough noise to guide his way through the twisting caverns and he was soon emerging into a larger one. Leon’s eyes were firmly drawn to one wall. Well, what was left of it.
A huge section of the wall had crumbled, looking like it had offered no warning before coming down. But that wasn’t truly drew his attention. It was the lanky man on his hands and knees, clearly trying to pull away the rocks.
“Merlin?” Merlin jumped, whirling around. Leon was convinced for a split second that the servant’s eyes had flared gold, but by the time he had blinked, it was the blue orbs gazing back at him in despair, tears swimming in them even as his hands gave another fruitless tug. Leon’s eyes flickered up to where Merlin was digging, his heart sinking quicker than a stone in a pond as he thought back to Merlin’s previous yell. The look on Merlin’s face was all he needed to know.
Arthur was under there.
MMM
Merlin felt like he had watched the wall almost come down in slow motion. The one glimpse he had had of Arthur’s face before the prince had disappeared was burnt into his mind’s eye, that one look of utter helplessness even as his hands had once more tugged on the chains holding him prisoner. It had all happened so fast, Merlin hadn’t even had time to think about using magic, his own senses had been overloading him at the time after everything that had just happened.
But as soon as the dust had settled, he had crawled forward and began digging. Every spell he could think of that would clear the rubble would do so to an elaborate degree, blasting the rock out of the way rather than simply shifting it. With Arthur under there, and with no idea how he was, if he was...No, he was alive, he had to be. But that didn’t help Merlin, he couldn’t think of anything magical he could do apart from fall to his knees, dig and hope that he got there in time.
“Merlin?”
To say the voice made him jump was an understatement and the warlock spun sharply, magic immediately rushing to his defence. Only just in time did he stop himself from blasting Sir Leon back out of the cave. The man looked horrible, one eye swollen shut and he almost seemed to be weaving on the spot. Yet Merlin knew precisely what caused the look of sheer horror to cross the man’s face as he glanced towards the rock pile. Leon’s sword dropped with a clatter and he quickly joined Merlin on the floor. The thick and sturdy leather on his gloves allowed him to get a much better grip on the rock than Merlin had been able to as he pulled some of the larger ones away.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” Leon stated bluntly, causing Merlin to blink in surprise. He barely noticed that his palms were almost shredded from where he had been trying to move some of the rocks, nor the fact that he was barely moving now, some sort of shock sinking into him whilst his mind tried to process that Leon was really here. After a moment or two, he realised what the knight had said.
“Eric.” He growled, his magic almost snarling within him as he thought of Arianna. He knew it would be a long time before he stopped thinking about the way the collar had made him feel and what it would have done to him if it was actually placed around his neck.
“So it’s true? He sold you?” There was almost a forced neutrality in Leon’s voice, yet Merlin could see the anger sparking in his normally calm eyes.
Merlin tried to shrug it off, tried to make some flippant comment in response to Leon. He liked and trusted the knight, and considering he was here on his own, had a feeling that he knew more about what was going on than Merlin had initially thought. But his hands gave an odd tremble - he had been completely defenceless through his reluctance to put anyone in danger. When he had acted, he had got Arianna killed.
“Yes.” He whispered, his fist clenching tightly as it balanced on his leg. Leon followed the movement and saw the gash.
“That was him.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Merlin found himself nodding anyway. The wound was feeling warmer and warmer by the second, and he knew that he needed to treat it soon or he would risk infection, death if they didn’t get back to Camelot. But right now, he couldn’t think about that. They had to focus on Arthur, they had to get him out... It was only then that Merlin realised Leon had not once stopped digging whilst he had been speaking, Merlin was the one to have frozen.
“He told me you had been killed by bandits. But something led us to the bandits.” Merlin tried to hide his smile as he thought about the blazing arrow that his magic had left to make sure they got what they deserved for the way they had treated the slaves. But Leon wasn’t done yet.
“I found your jacket. Covering the girl. I’m sorry, Merlin. I’m assuming you were with her when...”
“She saved my life. It was me that man was aiming for, I was the one who was supposed to be stabbed, not her...”
“If you had, then you wouldn’t have been able to save Arthur.” Merlin shook his head furiously. They didn’t even know if Arthur was even alive under the rocks, meaning everything that had just happened could have all been for nothing. Arianna could have died for nothing, and that thought alone made Merlin practically snarl in anger. His anger leant him strength and he managed to tear away a bigger rock than he would have been able to. Luckily, Leon didn’t question it despite the fact that Merlin knew it was something slightly more than his anger allowing him to do such things. His magic was just as angry as he was.
“Arthur...” Leon breathed, immediately doubling his efforts. Merlin glanced to the gap he had just revealed and almost started in surprise at finding that they were beginning to uncover the prince. Neither knight nor servant said anything as they both scrambled through the rocks, working together to lift some of the larger ones. It felt like a lifetime to Merlin as they struggled to dig Arthur out, yet it can’t have been more than a few moments in reality. Finally, Leon lifted off the last rock, and Merlin dived forward.
“Wait.” There was such a command in Leon’s voice that Merlin found he was doing as he was told and froze. Arthur was unconscious, blood flowing from various wounds over his exposed torso and a cut on his head that made Merlin’s heart flip. His left arm was bent awkwardly under him, yet the chains fastened around his wrists were more than obvious. They were still attached to a large piece of rock just to Arthur’s side, making Merlin realise that, despite everything, Arthur was still chained up. Very slowly, Leon inched forward, using his teeth to tear off his gloves and rested one hand on the side of Arthur’s neck.
“Come on, please, Sire...”
“Leon?”
“Sire? Arthur...”
“Is he.?” Leon bit his lip, not answering Merlin’s question but instead searching harder for a pulse. Merlin heard him swear even as the warlock forced himself to look at Arthur’s pale face.
“Come on, you prat, don’t be such a selfish git and live! You’re not dying on me now, Arthur, come on!” Quite what good he thought yelling at the unconscious prince would do, Merlin had no idea, but felt a rush of relief shoot through him as Leon suddenly smiled.
“I’ve got a pulse.” Falling over backwards, Merlin sighed, closing his eyes and running his hand over them. He had no idea what he was thinking, his whole mind seemed to have gone blank as he reached out for Arthur again.
“His left arm is broken, I think...” Leon murmured, also moving closer. To Merlin’s surprise, the man shifted his grip on his sword, holding it carefully before bringing the hilt smashing down on the manacle around Arthur’s right wrist.
“No, wait! You’ll hurt him!” Merlin yelled, moving forward. Leon held out his hand, stopping the servant.
“Trust me, Merlin, where he is, he can’t feel it.” Knowing that he had no choice but to trust that Leon knew what he was doing, or expose his magic, Merlin sat back, watching the knight work.
“Help me, would you?” Leon had freed Arthur’s right wrist and was carefully rolling Arthur over. Merlin nodded and moved forward, holding the prince on his side as Leon very carefully moved Arthur’s left arm. Arthur moaned and stirred slightly in Merlin’s arms, but the warlock wasn’t sure if he should be thankful that he didn’t wake up. They had no pain relief, nothing that could make Arthur more uncomfortable. At least unconscious, he couldn’t kick up a fuss. As soon as Arthur’s arm was in a better position, Leon freed that hand from the manacle as well, both of the men wincing at the state of Arthur’s arm.
“How..?” Merlin wanted to ask how he was, how they were going to move Arthur, how Leon found them... He wasn’t sure what question was going to come out first, but Leon simply shot him a reassuring look. The knight stripped off his cloak, using his sword to shred it. Merlin could only watch as the man bound Arthur’s arm the best he could, strapping it across the prince’s bleeding chest in order to immobilise it. He then proceeded to rip apart the rest of the fabric, handing a section over for Merlin to do. Realising that he was trying to make bandages and grateful for something to take his mind off the sheer state of Arthur, Merlin obliged.
“There is something clenched in his right hand.” Merlin suddenly muttered, realising the way Arthur’s fist was clenched up tightly. Leon frowned, putting aside the cloak and wrapping his own fingers around Arthur’s. His attempt to prise Arthur’s hand open was just met with an even louder moan before and they could both see the way Arthur’s eyes were rolling behind his closed lids. Letting go of his wrist, Leon let the back of his hand rest against Arthur’s forehead. This time, Merlin didn’t need to ask. His magic was already stirring warningly, trying to tell him that just because they might have stopped Nimueh didn’t mean that Arthur was out of danger yet.
“We’ll leave whatever it is there for now. I’m assuming that it must be a comfort to him if he is holding on that tightly and his subconscious is reacting to us trying to make him let go. One thing at a time.”
Thinking about the witch, Merlin’s head turned to where she was still sprawled on the other side of the cave where Merlin’s magic had thrown her. Leon followed his gaze.
“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” Feeling a rush of gratitude towards the man, Merlin let his own hand rest against Arthur’s forehead, wincing at the heat he could feel radiating from it.
“We have to get him out of here.” The servant muttered, a note in his voice that made Leon nod. Awkwardly, the man stood up and offered Merlin his sword. The warlock could only blink at it.
“I can’t carry it and him, I need you to watch our backs. And try not to drop it on your own foot.” The last part was added on almost as an afterthought and Merlin grinned at Leon’s attempt to lighten the situation. As carefully as he could, Leon swung Arthur over his shoulder.
“After you.”
“I don’t know the way,” Merlin admitted softly. “I was unconscious when I got here.”
“You, Merlin, have a story and a half to tell.” Even in the dim light, Merlin could see by Leon’s expression that he was going to have to think of something to tell the man. It was clear he had been with the slavers, and then for him to have beaten Leon here, with a leg wound, and find Arthur by himself. For now, Merlin was just grateful for the forewarning and took the offered sword, swaying slightly on the spot. Leon’s eyes softened in compassion, and he slowly began to lead the way, Arthur over his shoulder and Merlin stumbling behind him.
“Wait, what about the witch?” Merlin didn’t want to name her, didn’t want to admit that he had some kind of connection with her as he was convinced that was going to lead to awkward questions. Leon sighed, clearly not having thought of that.
“We’ll leave her for the rest of the knights for when they happen to stumble this way.” Merlin stopped dead even as Leon disappeared out into the clearing, and it was only fear of having Arthur out of his sight that made him hurry after them. He had just fought a witch who had not only wanted him dead, but had tried to destroy his destiny and found that he barely even noticed. But somehow, knowing that Eric could be heading this way filled Merlin with a terror he wasn’t sure he had ever truly experienced before.
“They’re... they’re coming here?” Blinking in the sunlight, Merlin tried to ignore the way his voice trembled slightly.
“When Bors stops being an idiot.” Leon muttered, almost vehemently under his breath before he glanced at Merlin and saw how pale the boy had gone. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I’m not going to let Eric anywhere near you.” The fierceness in his voice made Merlin wonder quite how he had ended up with a swollen eye in the first place, and knew it wouldn’t just be about protecting him that would make Leon fight back. This was personal.
“Merlin? Merlin, you still with me?” It was the concern in Leon’s voice that made Merlin realise just how much he was shaking the fact that he had yet to answer. But right now, there was only one thing he could say.
“Let’s go home?” He wasn’t sure if it sounded as pleading to Leon as it did to his own ears, but the loyal knight nodded with a soft smile.
“Let’s.”
FF.Net
Title: Unravelling Destiny
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4899
Spoilers: None
It was the pounding in his head that originally brought Leon back to consciousness with a groan. He lurched into a strange sitting position, one hand resting shakily on a nearby tree as he tried to stop himself from vomiting everywhere. There was a resonating thud in the back of his head which he couldn’t quite account for and his left eye was practically swollen shut from where Eric had struck him.
Thinking about Eric made Leon groan again as he navigated himself around until he was fully leaning back on the tree. Would the other knights even realise he was missing yet? He knew what a talented liar Eric was, no doubt the man had just insisted that they were mistaken, that Bors had sent Leon off with the other groups. It was well known that Bors didn’t particularly like Leon, his close relationship with the prince being something of a great annoyance to the man. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if Bors tried to weaken that relationship by making sure that Leon wasn’t in the rescue party. Even Arthur couldn’t find a way to give his favourite knight the credit if the man wasn’t even there.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother Leon. He served because it was his duty, and any honour that came his way because of it was just an added bonus. Unlike some of the others, he didn’t try and seek out honour in the same way, didn’t put himself in front of the other men just so that he could say a victory was his doing. If he was honest, Leon wasn’t sure he had the skill to do that, there was something political about arranging a situation in order for one person to make sure that they were the ones being noticed, regardless of their actual role. But what was worrying Leon was Eric’s attitude towards Arthur. To what extent would the man go to make sure that he wasn’t disgraced? Arthur was the one thing that stood between him and the King, and if Jorah spoke... Leon knew full well that Arthur was more believing of those he had previously dismissed, ever since Merlin came into his service. He might know that Jorah was just a coward covering his own skin, but he would still listen...
Gripping onto the tree, Leon forced himself upright, ignoring the way the world seemed to spin somewhat alarmingly in front of him and his stomach rolled in protest at the moment. There was no point sitting here thinking about what could possibly happen, he had to get out there... Whether to find Arthur and just save him, or find Bors and the others to warn them about Eric, Leon wasn’t yet sure. He knew the knights would be trying to track Arthur, so all he had to do was follow their trail and he was bound to find one or the other. Leon couldn’t stop the rush of relief from flooding through him as he realised that Eric had left him his sword. Trying not to think about whether that meant the man truly thought that he was no longer a threat, Leon closed his hand around the pommel. It seemed to lend him strength, giving him something to grip onto and focus on as his head twisted back around to clearing. Knowing that this wasn’t going to be easy, he pushed himself away from the tree and slowly but surely began to walk.
It took him far longer than he was happy with in order to stumble back to where they had made camp. His mind had been so preoccupied when they had bedded down that he had kept himself to the edge. Now, however, he was thankful about that. It meant that all of his belongings were still right where he had left them, and taking a long swig of water and nibbling on a small piece of bread helped the pounding fade away ever so slightly. The bright sunlight streaming through the trees indicated he had been unconscious for a reasonable length of time, and Leon was just thankful that Eric’s words about bandits hadn’t come true. In his current state, there was no way he would be able to survive an attack. Knowing that he had to move before his very thoughts jinked his good luck, Leon hoisted his pack onto his back and began the slow task of putting one foot in front of the other.
The one thing that he was thankful for was the fact that he was trying to track the others. It meant that he could stop numerous times in order to check where he was going and therefore didn’t feel quite as bad about his lack of speed. Every step sent a driving pain through his skull and more than once he had to use the forest in order to support himself. Precisely how hard had Eric hit him? He knew if he had felt like this back in Camelot, he would have been sent straight to Gaius.
But then the image of Merlin’s bloodied jacket swam before his mind, coupled with the scarf that Eric had presented as “evidence” of Merlin’s death. Leon still had it, tucked in the top of his pack. He wasn’t sure why, yet he felt like it was up to him to try and return it to its rightful owner if he could. Of course, he had absolutely no idea where Merlin was now, if he was still indeed alive. The forest was riddled with danger, and the servant would have been alone and unarmed. Leon had a horrible feeling that he was wounded as well. He knew what Eric was like, knew how the man viewed the serving staff. The blood had been Merlin’s, of that he was sure. But knowing that the servant had somehow been tricked by those he would have trusted, sold as a slave and injured, yet had still been able to escape... It gave Leon a sense of determination he wasn’t sure he had ever truly felt before and kept putting one foot in front of the other, regardless of how it was making him feel. Not to mention it meant that he wanted to get to Arthur before the others even more now. He didn’t want Eric to start telling the prince stories about what had happened to his servant whilst Arthur was missing. He knew how protective the young royal was of his staff, even if it didn’t show, and Merlin’s arrival in Camelot had only heightened that. He might shrug off anything that happened to the boy with a flippant comment, but Leon knew that if Arthur found out that Merlin had been “killed” whilst out looking for his master, he would never be able to forgive himself.
He followed the trail determinedly for a couple of hours, rolling his eyes at times at the route Bors was taking the men. He seemed to be sticking to the main path, as if he expected Arthur to simply be waiting for him around the next fallen log. Leon knew Arthur better than that. He knew that if the prince did escape, he would keep to the high ground, travelling along routes that were only known to those who knew the forest well. He would try and get the upper hand over his kidnapper.
As Bors’ tracks lead down to the main route, Leon stopped, shaking his head in disbelief. He may be sore and tired, but this wasn’t making sense. Why was Bors doing this? In the back of his mind, Leon knew. The man was just picking a direction, taking the most direct route to cover more ground. That was fine if they were in pursuit of something, but they weren’t. They were trying to find Arthur, meaning it didn’t matter how fast they travelled. They need accuracy, not speed, and Leon had had enough of going against his instinct. He didn’t care about honour and glory, he just cared about getting Arthur safely back in Camelot.
Coming to a stop, the knight craned his head up, staring at the far denser foliage that rested along the gently sloping ground. Very slowly, he took one step, then another, leaving the tracks that the rest of the men had made and beginning to work his way up the slope. It was painful going, and Leon knew that it was taking him almost double the amount of time that he could have done it in if it wasn’t for the blow to his head. Muttering curses about Eric under his breath - why did it have to be now out of all the times could the man’s unsavoury side be revealed? Why couldn’t it have waited until Arthur was safe? - Leon tried to ignore the pounding in his head and carefully focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
By the time he made it to the top of the slope, Leon was panting heavily, his head throbbing and his vision swimming slightly. But apart from the denser foliage up here compared to down on the main path, he knew that the hard part was over. The ground was flat and easy going now he had made it to the top. Even with having to search behind almost every tree and bush for the missing prince, he knew that he now had something to work with. Despite being on his own and injured, Leon knew he had far more chance of finding Arthur from up here than the others did scouting the ground below.
That didn’t mean it was going to be easy, however. He had only just begun to check the ground for any tracks when a wave of dizziness overcame him. Knowing that he had no choice but to stop, Leon sat down heavily, pulling out his water skin and taking a long draught, almost sighing in relief as the feelings began to pass slightly. He bent over and rested his head against his legs for a moment. Somehow, the cool fabric against his throbbing eye was soothing. Sighing in weariness, Leon made to close his eyes, to find some way of gaining the strength that he needed in order to continue.
But before his eyes shut, something caught their attention. Frowning, Leon stretched out his hand to the splash of colour just in front of him that had drawn his gaze. His head lifted as his frown deepened and he rocked forward so that he was on his knees rather than just sitting there. Tugging off his gloves, he touched the rusty-coloured substance again, and knew instantly what it was. Blood.
Unbidden, his eyes then were drawn back to his pack. It was still open from where he had picked out his water skin, and he could see the patch of coloured material just peeking through. Swallowing hard, Leon stretched out a hand and pulled the neckerchief from its resting point, staring at it intently for a few moments before glancing back towards the blood. Anyone could be in these forests, ordinary people and bandits alike. The blood might not have been human, but someone wounded animal staggering through. It was at around the height of Leon’s thigh if he stood up, meaning it could belong to anything. Yet somehow, the knight couldn’t shake the feeling that was beginning to lodge itself in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure whether it was relief or worry, but he was almost convinced that Merlin had passed through this way.
His own weariness once more forgotten, Leon stuffed the scarf and his water skin away, hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, pulled on his gloves and started moving again. Very carefully, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything, he began to track. There were a few blood smears in places, at other times it was where a branch had been bent back, but there was enough for a seasoned hunter such as the knight to be able to read the signs. Someone had been this way, not that long ago, maybe a few hours at the most? Rather than tracking a group of highly skilled knights sworn to protect Camelot and her royals, Leon found himself following the marks he believed to be left by an incredibly loyal servant. He didn’t know if this was Merlin, or if it was why he had the feeling it would lead him to Arthur. Yet he knew that now he had seen the marks, he wouldn’t be able to let it go.
Moving stealthy but with a speed he hadn’t managed to accomplish before, Leon found himself covering ground as he was led further into the forest. He felt like he had been walking for hours when the forest suddenly gave way to a spacious clearing, a sheer rock face staring back at him from the other side of it. Frowning, Leon stepped out into it. For some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he found that he had shrugged off his pack and drawn his sword almost before he had realised it. Why did it feel like something had led him here, something other than just the telltale signs of where someone had walked the same route before him?
The questions buzzing around his mind, however, were quickly and efficiently cut off as the whole ground seemed to shake. Staring in astonishment, Leon braced himself the best he could, but realised that the movement was coming from within the cave itself. With one hand resting against a tree, Leon could only watch, open mouthed, as a huge plume of dust seemed to waft almost lazily out from one of the many openings scattered along the rock face. Once it had cleared slightly, Leon knew what he had to do. He had to go in there.
The grip on his sword tightened, all the pain in his head forgotten about as he ran swiftly for the entrance. He knew that it might be dangerous, unstable even, walking straight into what he assumed was going to be caves considering part of it had just collapsed. But it was like there was something pulling at him, someone screaming out for help. Someone in this cave needed him, and despite his mistrust of anything even vaguely magical, the knight just told himself that it was his instincts and pressed on.
“Arthur!!”
The scream made him stop short, before swearing and breaking into a full run. It wasn’t only the words - although that would have been enough to make Leon run, for how many Arthur’s could there be lost in the forest - it was the fact that up until very recently, he had believed the owner of that voice to be dead. The sound had given him enough noise to guide his way through the twisting caverns and he was soon emerging into a larger one. Leon’s eyes were firmly drawn to one wall. Well, what was left of it.
A huge section of the wall had crumbled, looking like it had offered no warning before coming down. But that wasn’t truly drew his attention. It was the lanky man on his hands and knees, clearly trying to pull away the rocks.
“Merlin?” Merlin jumped, whirling around. Leon was convinced for a split second that the servant’s eyes had flared gold, but by the time he had blinked, it was the blue orbs gazing back at him in despair, tears swimming in them even as his hands gave another fruitless tug. Leon’s eyes flickered up to where Merlin was digging, his heart sinking quicker than a stone in a pond as he thought back to Merlin’s previous yell. The look on Merlin’s face was all he needed to know.
Arthur was under there.
MMM
Merlin felt like he had watched the wall almost come down in slow motion. The one glimpse he had had of Arthur’s face before the prince had disappeared was burnt into his mind’s eye, that one look of utter helplessness even as his hands had once more tugged on the chains holding him prisoner. It had all happened so fast, Merlin hadn’t even had time to think about using magic, his own senses had been overloading him at the time after everything that had just happened.
But as soon as the dust had settled, he had crawled forward and began digging. Every spell he could think of that would clear the rubble would do so to an elaborate degree, blasting the rock out of the way rather than simply shifting it. With Arthur under there, and with no idea how he was, if he was...No, he was alive, he had to be. But that didn’t help Merlin, he couldn’t think of anything magical he could do apart from fall to his knees, dig and hope that he got there in time.
“Merlin?”
To say the voice made him jump was an understatement and the warlock spun sharply, magic immediately rushing to his defence. Only just in time did he stop himself from blasting Sir Leon back out of the cave. The man looked horrible, one eye swollen shut and he almost seemed to be weaving on the spot. Yet Merlin knew precisely what caused the look of sheer horror to cross the man’s face as he glanced towards the rock pile. Leon’s sword dropped with a clatter and he quickly joined Merlin on the floor. The thick and sturdy leather on his gloves allowed him to get a much better grip on the rock than Merlin had been able to as he pulled some of the larger ones away.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” Leon stated bluntly, causing Merlin to blink in surprise. He barely noticed that his palms were almost shredded from where he had been trying to move some of the rocks, nor the fact that he was barely moving now, some sort of shock sinking into him whilst his mind tried to process that Leon was really here. After a moment or two, he realised what the knight had said.
“Eric.” He growled, his magic almost snarling within him as he thought of Arianna. He knew it would be a long time before he stopped thinking about the way the collar had made him feel and what it would have done to him if it was actually placed around his neck.
“So it’s true? He sold you?” There was almost a forced neutrality in Leon’s voice, yet Merlin could see the anger sparking in his normally calm eyes.
Merlin tried to shrug it off, tried to make some flippant comment in response to Leon. He liked and trusted the knight, and considering he was here on his own, had a feeling that he knew more about what was going on than Merlin had initially thought. But his hands gave an odd tremble - he had been completely defenceless through his reluctance to put anyone in danger. When he had acted, he had got Arianna killed.
“Yes.” He whispered, his fist clenching tightly as it balanced on his leg. Leon followed the movement and saw the gash.
“That was him.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Merlin found himself nodding anyway. The wound was feeling warmer and warmer by the second, and he knew that he needed to treat it soon or he would risk infection, death if they didn’t get back to Camelot. But right now, he couldn’t think about that. They had to focus on Arthur, they had to get him out... It was only then that Merlin realised Leon had not once stopped digging whilst he had been speaking, Merlin was the one to have frozen.
“He told me you had been killed by bandits. But something led us to the bandits.” Merlin tried to hide his smile as he thought about the blazing arrow that his magic had left to make sure they got what they deserved for the way they had treated the slaves. But Leon wasn’t done yet.
“I found your jacket. Covering the girl. I’m sorry, Merlin. I’m assuming you were with her when...”
“She saved my life. It was me that man was aiming for, I was the one who was supposed to be stabbed, not her...”
“If you had, then you wouldn’t have been able to save Arthur.” Merlin shook his head furiously. They didn’t even know if Arthur was even alive under the rocks, meaning everything that had just happened could have all been for nothing. Arianna could have died for nothing, and that thought alone made Merlin practically snarl in anger. His anger leant him strength and he managed to tear away a bigger rock than he would have been able to. Luckily, Leon didn’t question it despite the fact that Merlin knew it was something slightly more than his anger allowing him to do such things. His magic was just as angry as he was.
“Arthur...” Leon breathed, immediately doubling his efforts. Merlin glanced to the gap he had just revealed and almost started in surprise at finding that they were beginning to uncover the prince. Neither knight nor servant said anything as they both scrambled through the rocks, working together to lift some of the larger ones. It felt like a lifetime to Merlin as they struggled to dig Arthur out, yet it can’t have been more than a few moments in reality. Finally, Leon lifted off the last rock, and Merlin dived forward.
“Wait.” There was such a command in Leon’s voice that Merlin found he was doing as he was told and froze. Arthur was unconscious, blood flowing from various wounds over his exposed torso and a cut on his head that made Merlin’s heart flip. His left arm was bent awkwardly under him, yet the chains fastened around his wrists were more than obvious. They were still attached to a large piece of rock just to Arthur’s side, making Merlin realise that, despite everything, Arthur was still chained up. Very slowly, Leon inched forward, using his teeth to tear off his gloves and rested one hand on the side of Arthur’s neck.
“Come on, please, Sire...”
“Leon?”
“Sire? Arthur...”
“Is he.?” Leon bit his lip, not answering Merlin’s question but instead searching harder for a pulse. Merlin heard him swear even as the warlock forced himself to look at Arthur’s pale face.
“Come on, you prat, don’t be such a selfish git and live! You’re not dying on me now, Arthur, come on!” Quite what good he thought yelling at the unconscious prince would do, Merlin had no idea, but felt a rush of relief shoot through him as Leon suddenly smiled.
“I’ve got a pulse.” Falling over backwards, Merlin sighed, closing his eyes and running his hand over them. He had no idea what he was thinking, his whole mind seemed to have gone blank as he reached out for Arthur again.
“His left arm is broken, I think...” Leon murmured, also moving closer. To Merlin’s surprise, the man shifted his grip on his sword, holding it carefully before bringing the hilt smashing down on the manacle around Arthur’s right wrist.
“No, wait! You’ll hurt him!” Merlin yelled, moving forward. Leon held out his hand, stopping the servant.
“Trust me, Merlin, where he is, he can’t feel it.” Knowing that he had no choice but to trust that Leon knew what he was doing, or expose his magic, Merlin sat back, watching the knight work.
“Help me, would you?” Leon had freed Arthur’s right wrist and was carefully rolling Arthur over. Merlin nodded and moved forward, holding the prince on his side as Leon very carefully moved Arthur’s left arm. Arthur moaned and stirred slightly in Merlin’s arms, but the warlock wasn’t sure if he should be thankful that he didn’t wake up. They had no pain relief, nothing that could make Arthur more uncomfortable. At least unconscious, he couldn’t kick up a fuss. As soon as Arthur’s arm was in a better position, Leon freed that hand from the manacle as well, both of the men wincing at the state of Arthur’s arm.
“How..?” Merlin wanted to ask how he was, how they were going to move Arthur, how Leon found them... He wasn’t sure what question was going to come out first, but Leon simply shot him a reassuring look. The knight stripped off his cloak, using his sword to shred it. Merlin could only watch as the man bound Arthur’s arm the best he could, strapping it across the prince’s bleeding chest in order to immobilise it. He then proceeded to rip apart the rest of the fabric, handing a section over for Merlin to do. Realising that he was trying to make bandages and grateful for something to take his mind off the sheer state of Arthur, Merlin obliged.
“There is something clenched in his right hand.” Merlin suddenly muttered, realising the way Arthur’s fist was clenched up tightly. Leon frowned, putting aside the cloak and wrapping his own fingers around Arthur’s. His attempt to prise Arthur’s hand open was just met with an even louder moan before and they could both see the way Arthur’s eyes were rolling behind his closed lids. Letting go of his wrist, Leon let the back of his hand rest against Arthur’s forehead. This time, Merlin didn’t need to ask. His magic was already stirring warningly, trying to tell him that just because they might have stopped Nimueh didn’t mean that Arthur was out of danger yet.
“We’ll leave whatever it is there for now. I’m assuming that it must be a comfort to him if he is holding on that tightly and his subconscious is reacting to us trying to make him let go. One thing at a time.”
Thinking about the witch, Merlin’s head turned to where she was still sprawled on the other side of the cave where Merlin’s magic had thrown her. Leon followed his gaze.
“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” Feeling a rush of gratitude towards the man, Merlin let his own hand rest against Arthur’s forehead, wincing at the heat he could feel radiating from it.
“We have to get him out of here.” The servant muttered, a note in his voice that made Leon nod. Awkwardly, the man stood up and offered Merlin his sword. The warlock could only blink at it.
“I can’t carry it and him, I need you to watch our backs. And try not to drop it on your own foot.” The last part was added on almost as an afterthought and Merlin grinned at Leon’s attempt to lighten the situation. As carefully as he could, Leon swung Arthur over his shoulder.
“After you.”
“I don’t know the way,” Merlin admitted softly. “I was unconscious when I got here.”
“You, Merlin, have a story and a half to tell.” Even in the dim light, Merlin could see by Leon’s expression that he was going to have to think of something to tell the man. It was clear he had been with the slavers, and then for him to have beaten Leon here, with a leg wound, and find Arthur by himself. For now, Merlin was just grateful for the forewarning and took the offered sword, swaying slightly on the spot. Leon’s eyes softened in compassion, and he slowly began to lead the way, Arthur over his shoulder and Merlin stumbling behind him.
“Wait, what about the witch?” Merlin didn’t want to name her, didn’t want to admit that he had some kind of connection with her as he was convinced that was going to lead to awkward questions. Leon sighed, clearly not having thought of that.
“We’ll leave her for the rest of the knights for when they happen to stumble this way.” Merlin stopped dead even as Leon disappeared out into the clearing, and it was only fear of having Arthur out of his sight that made him hurry after them. He had just fought a witch who had not only wanted him dead, but had tried to destroy his destiny and found that he barely even noticed. But somehow, knowing that Eric could be heading this way filled Merlin with a terror he wasn’t sure he had ever truly experienced before.
“They’re... they’re coming here?” Blinking in the sunlight, Merlin tried to ignore the way his voice trembled slightly.
“When Bors stops being an idiot.” Leon muttered, almost vehemently under his breath before he glanced at Merlin and saw how pale the boy had gone. “Don’t worry, Merlin. I’m not going to let Eric anywhere near you.” The fierceness in his voice made Merlin wonder quite how he had ended up with a swollen eye in the first place, and knew it wouldn’t just be about protecting him that would make Leon fight back. This was personal.
“Merlin? Merlin, you still with me?” It was the concern in Leon’s voice that made Merlin realise just how much he was shaking the fact that he had yet to answer. But right now, there was only one thing he could say.
“Let’s go home?” He wasn’t sure if it sounded as pleading to Leon as it did to his own ears, but the loyal knight nodded with a soft smile.
“Let’s.”
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