Promises and Scars 4/5 Sharing/Memories
Title: Promises and Scars part 4 /5 : Sharing/ Memories
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Violence Whipping Child death
Summary: Arthur has to find a way to save Merlin - but will he be in time?
Word count: c2600
A/N: this one hurts.
Arthur’s heart stopped.
Habit meant he gave the King a cursory bow of the head before he ran out of the room. His mind was in torment. In his current state this would kill Merlin he thought as he ran. For a moment he was indecisive: Gaius’ room or the dungeon? Then, thinking of his father he headed straight for the latter. Uther would not give him time to react. Merlin was already in trouble.
Sure enough there was a commotion in the corridor outside that room. Gwaine was bent double and gasping, while one guard lay beside the door looking concussed. The other guard, who had just used the butt end of his spear on Gwaine was not looking as Arthur appeared around the corner. Without stopping Arthur punched him heavily, dodged passed him and went through the door.
Arthur knew this room well. The room was small - though big enough to flick a whip - and dark with the only light coming from a tiny window more than twenty feet above. The whipping post was at the centre of the room and in the gloom Arthur could see Merlin, stripped to the waist, chest against the whipping post, arms shackled to the manacles that hung from it. Red weals on his back indicated that the punishment had already begun.
Without thought, without conscious movement Arthur was in front of Merlin, wrapping his arms around the frail body before him, presenting his own back to the lash.
“Sire, move away. I know the King’s orders”
“And you always obey the King’s orders, Meclid as I know well” Arthur voice was bitter with remembered pain.
“To the letter”
The reply gave Arthur an inkling of an idea but before he could speak the room filled with armed men.
Arthur’s shoulders sagged and he bowed his head to Merlin’s shoulder. Just once, he thought, just once could things go smoothly? And then a voice told him that maybe the universe did not hate him after all.
“We’ll take him down now Sire” said Lancelot. He pushed forward towards Merlin. Behind him were Elyan and Percival. And Leon. They had even dragged Gwaine, still looking rough into the small cell.
For a moment, the time it takes for one thought to replace another, Arthur contemplated letting Merlin go
It would be rebellion.
The first act against a king he no longer respected but who was still his father. Somehow he knew these men would stand with him.
It was possible.
But instantly he knew he would not. The cost to Camelot would be too great. Her enemies would stream over the borders and any semblance of peace would be gone. In his many searches Arthur had come to see a Camelot he had not known before. Ordinary people, whom he once scorned with the word ‘peasants’ but now, as the result of his travels were imbued with faces, and dreams and real lives that would be shattered if their ‘betters’ went to war. Simple people who worked hard to live, but who shared what they had and cared for each other and put their faith in lords and kings who saw them only as rents and tenants and, yes, servants. Could protecting one servant tip all of them into the hell that is war?
But this was Merlin.
“Leave him” his voice was dull.
“Sire?”
“Leave him”
Arthur sighed and without leaving his place he removed his shirt, baring his back.
“Meclid, you will carry out the King’s orders to the letter. You have Merlin here at the post. You have drawn blood. You will complete the sentence.”
“Ten lashes. Eight to go” said Meclid.
“He’ll die, Arthur,” said Leon softly.
“No he won’t” said Arthur, putting his arms around Merlin again and covering his body with his own. “Begin”
Merlin bucked and struggled. “No Arthur! NO! I won’t let you .. you can’t..”
“Shhh” said Arthur but Merlin continued to struggle and then began to chant low and firm. His eyes glowed.
“Don’t you dare!” said Arthur fiercely as Leon reached out and covered Merlin’s eyes and Gwaine began to groan theatrically and loudly. But there was no dramatic crashes - not even a display of pretty lights.
And the lash fell.
Arthur wondered if the scars he had built up over the autumn had formed calluses protecting his back as he barely felt the first blow. He had noted the whip Meclid was using was heavy with metal tips but this blow felt no more than that dealt by his elderly tutor when he was a boy - and he had early learned to ignore that. When the second blow fell with as little impact Arthur almost relaxed.
Until he realised the body in his arms had jumped with the fall of the lash.
“What have you done?” he growled into Merlin’s ear, then felt him gasp and tense as the third blow fell.
“You took the pain? Merlin!” Arthur almost sobbed, tightening his hold on the shaking body in his arms.
“W’share” Merlin said softly, then hissed at the fourth impact.
Five.
Merlin’s lame leg failed him and he would have hung from the manacles were it not for the strong arms holding him.
Six
Merlin’s quiet groan turned into a paroxysm of coughs which shook his frail frame.
Seven
Arthur could feel the blood running down his back but was conscious only of Merlin, gasping in his arms.
Eight
Merlin relaxed as he lost consciousness.
Meclid wanted to leave. The baleful stares of the angry knights burned through him. It was just a job. His job. But right now he thought he could take any other job. Like cess pit cleaner or archery target. He dropped the whip and moved to the door. Percival’s arm reached out for him.
“What will you tell the king?”
“I fulfilled his order. To the letter”
He left.
Inside the room there was silence.
Lancelot unlocked the manacles and Arthur lowered Merlin’s body to the floor. The knights were filled with confusion as to why Merlin had fainted mixed with growing respect for Arthur’s insouciance in the face of the deep weals on his back.
Arthur could not bear their undeserved respect. “He took the pain” he said shortly, with mingled fury and sorrow. “I felt nothing”
Gwaine groaned and Leon went pale. Arthur noticed dawning understanding appear in Lancelot’s face but Elyan and Percival looked confused.
Lancelot stepped forward, picking up Arthur’s discarded jacket. “We need to get you to Gaius without drawing attention to your back”
Arthur bent to pick up Merlin’s recumbent body but Leon, putting his hand on the prince’s wrist, stayed him.
“You cannot carry him my lord, even if you do not feel it. Your back will be injured even more. Let me. It would be my honour”
Merlin awoke. “M’fine” he said, struggling to his feet. “I can walk. No need to ..”
“You are not meant to be fine” said Lancelot, trying to cover Arthur’s still bleeding back with his doublet.
Merlin’s eyes widened as he saw the blood. “I can fix that” he said nervously. He limped forward and putting his hands gently on Arthur’s back he reached out for his magic. Arthur felt a warm glow over his back and heard the gasp of his men. The ripped and torn welts knitted together leaving narrow red marks.
“You’ll still have scars” said Merlin sadly
“He already has” Gwaine murmured.
Silence grew as the realisation of magic settled among them.
“That ” said Percival impassively “could be useful”
“Sire?” said Elyan. Gwaine gripped his wrist. “”Yeah, we need to talk” he said
“Um” said Merlin “I might be going to pass out again” Arthur caught him.
5555555 Memories
Bringing the Prince and his manservant to the physician’s chamber without incident turned out to be an anti-climax. The corridors were empty and Gaius was waiting, his face drawn and old. When he examined Merlin’s back he drew in a breath
“Not as bad as I feared. The King was merciful”
“Not exactly” said Gwaine as the knights left the room.
“What does that mean?” Gaius asked.
“It means that Arthur is a dollophead” said Merlin, his voice rasping
“That’s Prince Dollophead to you” said Arthur coolly while gently ruffling Merlin’s hair in an absent minded way, then, turning to Gaius he added “He keeps passing out and that cough....”
“Twice is not keeps” snapped Merlin, but was stopped by a cough. The fact was he felt awful and did not think he could keep up the stroppy manservant facade much longer. He hurt, and breathing was getting harder. He could not decide if he wanted to sleep or cry or....
“His fever is very high Sire” said Gaius in a low tone, “and his lungs... It will not be easy Sire. He is very ill”
“Fix him Gaius.” Arthur sounded like a child with a broken toy. “Do anything. Do everything. Don’t let...” he choked. For a moment he just wished the whole thing had not happened -that the world could return to the way it had been before he broke it. He was so tired, so worn down and seemed that each day brought new sorrows.
“I will do what I can Sire”
In the morning Merlin was no better, if anything he was worse. Arthur, fearing that he would draw his father’s wrath by staying, confined himself to a quick update before going about his duties. But for some reason some of his knights seemed to be remarkably accident prone that day. There was one, or more often two, sitting in Gaius’ room fiddling with the jars and herbs and complaining loudly of strained muscles or torn nails when anyone entered. They continued to be accident prone for the next two days.
On the third night Gaius sent Leon (who unaccountably needed something for an upset stomach) to fetch Arthur.
“He is slipping in and out of delirium” Gaius said. “He calls for you. Maybe you can..” The old man looked exhausted; but more than that Arthur knew it grieved him to his soul to see his surrogate son so near... No. Arthur would not think of that.
Merlin was tossing on the low bed when Arthur entered. Arthur noted again how bleak the room was. He had come in here in the first week of Merlin’s absence.
“He’s taken everything” he had said.
“He’s taken nothing, Sire” said Gaius. “This is all he owns”
Arthur had looked around at the paltry possessions. How little to show for a life. He had picked up a tunic lying on the bed - the only clothing in the room.
“It’s dirty” had had said absently.
“Merlin was in the stocks before he.. It gets messy”
Arthur had dropped the tunic and left the room. His thoughts were as bleak as the room. He had given Merlin nothing. He had hurt him and let him go into the dark with nothing. That is when he decided to search.
As he sat beside the humble bed with its thin coverlets, (supplemented by blankets from seven beds) he reflected on the months of searching. He had visited almost every village and hamlet in Camelot. He had slept in hovels that made Merlin’s home in Ealdor seem a palace. He was now on first name terms with shepherds and goatherds and woodsmen. And all the time he was learning. He now knew more of the kingdom than any Prince there had ever been.
Once the snow set in he had been confined to the castle and the town. He did not take another servant. Instead looking after the Prince was divided among a few of the general staff. There was Dickon, slow of speech and of gait, who carried the bath water and did the heavy work. (Dickon had chilblains on his hands that bled when it was cold. Arthur gave him an old pair of gloves and won his enduring devotion). Meg, from the kitchen did general tidying. She had a nasty scald on her arm where boiling water had splashed on her. Arthur had sent her to Gaius for a healing salve which eased the pain despite her protestations that the King’s own Physician would not treat a servant. Jinny filled in when the others were not around. She was tiny and Arthur had found her struggling up the stairs with a bucket of water. He had carried the bucket and, noting the weight, respected Merlin for doing this every day. Tom looked after the stables. Tom was walking out with a girl from a little hamlet beyond the woods. (Arthur knew the hamlet; ten houses and a small mill, the cow had died but they had had a good harvest and saved a good supply of food.) Arthur had set aside a purse of silver pennies as a wedding gift for Tom.
During the snow, while sharing out his rations he saw a different side to the town folk. In one tiny house teeming with ill-clad children a little girl had tugged at his doublet. He turned expecting a demanding hand held out. Instead he saw a tiny (rather dirty) face with big eyes and a gap-toothed smile looking at him.
“I seed you with Merlin”
“Yes?”
“Is he your friend?
“Yes” It was the first time he had said it, the first time he had admitted it to himself and his shock at the truth almost made him deaf to the girl’s chatter.
“Merlin is my friend. He fixeded my hand when it was sore.” She held out a grubby hand with a faint scar.
“He fixeded my brother’s leg too but Rob still throwed things at him in the stocks. I don’t like Rob. He’s a dollophead”
The word lanced through Arthur like a knife. Only one person could have taught her that. He tried to speak to cover his confusion.
“Did you throw things?”
“No! Merlin doesn’t like the stocks. He laughs but his eyes make me sad and then I get a tummy ache. I washeded his face once when the boys were horrible and throwed nasty things. He gived me a flower. I like Merlin”
“I like Merlin too” whispered Arthur, guilt tearing at him.
Rosie - for that was her name, did not survive the winter. Arthur had been given the news when he visited a few weeks later. Some childhood ailment, her mother had not been specific. She had many children and had lost others. Rosie was not her favourite. But Arthur had cried. He had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears but he had found himself crying for the death of a peasant girl whose own mother did not care enough to grieve.
Merlin stirred, breaking his melancholy reverie.
“Arthur?”
“I am right here”
“Promise.. I promise”
“Shh.. use your magic, sleep”
Merlin slept.
“Arthur?”
“Here”
“My King”
“Shh, sleep”
Merlin slept.
“Arthur?”
“Hm m?”
“Why is your hair sticking up and you’re all stubbly and whew! you stink?”
“Good morning Merlin, I see you are much better”
“I am not better! I hurt and I am all uncomfortable and the bed has lumps and..”
Arthur stooped and absent-mindedly kissed Merlin on the forehead.
“Drink whatever vile potions Gaius gives you, eat his horrible gruel and I will see you later. I have a council meeting to attend and as you say, I stink” he said.
Arthur moved to the door. “Gaius! He’s awake!” he called.
“Arthur?”
“Yes”
“Did you just...?”
“Shut up Merlin”
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Violence Whipping Child death
Summary: Arthur has to find a way to save Merlin - but will he be in time?
Word count: c2600
A/N: this one hurts.
Arthur’s heart stopped.
Habit meant he gave the King a cursory bow of the head before he ran out of the room. His mind was in torment. In his current state this would kill Merlin he thought as he ran. For a moment he was indecisive: Gaius’ room or the dungeon? Then, thinking of his father he headed straight for the latter. Uther would not give him time to react. Merlin was already in trouble.
Sure enough there was a commotion in the corridor outside that room. Gwaine was bent double and gasping, while one guard lay beside the door looking concussed. The other guard, who had just used the butt end of his spear on Gwaine was not looking as Arthur appeared around the corner. Without stopping Arthur punched him heavily, dodged passed him and went through the door.
Arthur knew this room well. The room was small - though big enough to flick a whip - and dark with the only light coming from a tiny window more than twenty feet above. The whipping post was at the centre of the room and in the gloom Arthur could see Merlin, stripped to the waist, chest against the whipping post, arms shackled to the manacles that hung from it. Red weals on his back indicated that the punishment had already begun.
Without thought, without conscious movement Arthur was in front of Merlin, wrapping his arms around the frail body before him, presenting his own back to the lash.
“Sire, move away. I know the King’s orders”
“And you always obey the King’s orders, Meclid as I know well” Arthur voice was bitter with remembered pain.
“To the letter”
The reply gave Arthur an inkling of an idea but before he could speak the room filled with armed men.
Arthur’s shoulders sagged and he bowed his head to Merlin’s shoulder. Just once, he thought, just once could things go smoothly? And then a voice told him that maybe the universe did not hate him after all.
“We’ll take him down now Sire” said Lancelot. He pushed forward towards Merlin. Behind him were Elyan and Percival. And Leon. They had even dragged Gwaine, still looking rough into the small cell.
For a moment, the time it takes for one thought to replace another, Arthur contemplated letting Merlin go
It would be rebellion.
The first act against a king he no longer respected but who was still his father. Somehow he knew these men would stand with him.
It was possible.
But instantly he knew he would not. The cost to Camelot would be too great. Her enemies would stream over the borders and any semblance of peace would be gone. In his many searches Arthur had come to see a Camelot he had not known before. Ordinary people, whom he once scorned with the word ‘peasants’ but now, as the result of his travels were imbued with faces, and dreams and real lives that would be shattered if their ‘betters’ went to war. Simple people who worked hard to live, but who shared what they had and cared for each other and put their faith in lords and kings who saw them only as rents and tenants and, yes, servants. Could protecting one servant tip all of them into the hell that is war?
But this was Merlin.
“Leave him” his voice was dull.
“Sire?”
“Leave him”
Arthur sighed and without leaving his place he removed his shirt, baring his back.
“Meclid, you will carry out the King’s orders to the letter. You have Merlin here at the post. You have drawn blood. You will complete the sentence.”
“Ten lashes. Eight to go” said Meclid.
“He’ll die, Arthur,” said Leon softly.
“No he won’t” said Arthur, putting his arms around Merlin again and covering his body with his own. “Begin”
Merlin bucked and struggled. “No Arthur! NO! I won’t let you .. you can’t..”
“Shhh” said Arthur but Merlin continued to struggle and then began to chant low and firm. His eyes glowed.
“Don’t you dare!” said Arthur fiercely as Leon reached out and covered Merlin’s eyes and Gwaine began to groan theatrically and loudly. But there was no dramatic crashes - not even a display of pretty lights.
And the lash fell.
Arthur wondered if the scars he had built up over the autumn had formed calluses protecting his back as he barely felt the first blow. He had noted the whip Meclid was using was heavy with metal tips but this blow felt no more than that dealt by his elderly tutor when he was a boy - and he had early learned to ignore that. When the second blow fell with as little impact Arthur almost relaxed.
Until he realised the body in his arms had jumped with the fall of the lash.
“What have you done?” he growled into Merlin’s ear, then felt him gasp and tense as the third blow fell.
“You took the pain? Merlin!” Arthur almost sobbed, tightening his hold on the shaking body in his arms.
“W’share” Merlin said softly, then hissed at the fourth impact.
Five.
Merlin’s lame leg failed him and he would have hung from the manacles were it not for the strong arms holding him.
Six
Merlin’s quiet groan turned into a paroxysm of coughs which shook his frail frame.
Seven
Arthur could feel the blood running down his back but was conscious only of Merlin, gasping in his arms.
Eight
Merlin relaxed as he lost consciousness.
Meclid wanted to leave. The baleful stares of the angry knights burned through him. It was just a job. His job. But right now he thought he could take any other job. Like cess pit cleaner or archery target. He dropped the whip and moved to the door. Percival’s arm reached out for him.
“What will you tell the king?”
“I fulfilled his order. To the letter”
He left.
Inside the room there was silence.
Lancelot unlocked the manacles and Arthur lowered Merlin’s body to the floor. The knights were filled with confusion as to why Merlin had fainted mixed with growing respect for Arthur’s insouciance in the face of the deep weals on his back.
Arthur could not bear their undeserved respect. “He took the pain” he said shortly, with mingled fury and sorrow. “I felt nothing”
Gwaine groaned and Leon went pale. Arthur noticed dawning understanding appear in Lancelot’s face but Elyan and Percival looked confused.
Lancelot stepped forward, picking up Arthur’s discarded jacket. “We need to get you to Gaius without drawing attention to your back”
Arthur bent to pick up Merlin’s recumbent body but Leon, putting his hand on the prince’s wrist, stayed him.
“You cannot carry him my lord, even if you do not feel it. Your back will be injured even more. Let me. It would be my honour”
Merlin awoke. “M’fine” he said, struggling to his feet. “I can walk. No need to ..”
“You are not meant to be fine” said Lancelot, trying to cover Arthur’s still bleeding back with his doublet.
Merlin’s eyes widened as he saw the blood. “I can fix that” he said nervously. He limped forward and putting his hands gently on Arthur’s back he reached out for his magic. Arthur felt a warm glow over his back and heard the gasp of his men. The ripped and torn welts knitted together leaving narrow red marks.
“You’ll still have scars” said Merlin sadly
“He already has” Gwaine murmured.
Silence grew as the realisation of magic settled among them.
“That ” said Percival impassively “could be useful”
“Sire?” said Elyan. Gwaine gripped his wrist. “”Yeah, we need to talk” he said
“Um” said Merlin “I might be going to pass out again” Arthur caught him.
5555555 Memories
Bringing the Prince and his manservant to the physician’s chamber without incident turned out to be an anti-climax. The corridors were empty and Gaius was waiting, his face drawn and old. When he examined Merlin’s back he drew in a breath
“Not as bad as I feared. The King was merciful”
“Not exactly” said Gwaine as the knights left the room.
“What does that mean?” Gaius asked.
“It means that Arthur is a dollophead” said Merlin, his voice rasping
“That’s Prince Dollophead to you” said Arthur coolly while gently ruffling Merlin’s hair in an absent minded way, then, turning to Gaius he added “He keeps passing out and that cough....”
“Twice is not keeps” snapped Merlin, but was stopped by a cough. The fact was he felt awful and did not think he could keep up the stroppy manservant facade much longer. He hurt, and breathing was getting harder. He could not decide if he wanted to sleep or cry or....
“His fever is very high Sire” said Gaius in a low tone, “and his lungs... It will not be easy Sire. He is very ill”
“Fix him Gaius.” Arthur sounded like a child with a broken toy. “Do anything. Do everything. Don’t let...” he choked. For a moment he just wished the whole thing had not happened -that the world could return to the way it had been before he broke it. He was so tired, so worn down and seemed that each day brought new sorrows.
“I will do what I can Sire”
In the morning Merlin was no better, if anything he was worse. Arthur, fearing that he would draw his father’s wrath by staying, confined himself to a quick update before going about his duties. But for some reason some of his knights seemed to be remarkably accident prone that day. There was one, or more often two, sitting in Gaius’ room fiddling with the jars and herbs and complaining loudly of strained muscles or torn nails when anyone entered. They continued to be accident prone for the next two days.
On the third night Gaius sent Leon (who unaccountably needed something for an upset stomach) to fetch Arthur.
“He is slipping in and out of delirium” Gaius said. “He calls for you. Maybe you can..” The old man looked exhausted; but more than that Arthur knew it grieved him to his soul to see his surrogate son so near... No. Arthur would not think of that.
Merlin was tossing on the low bed when Arthur entered. Arthur noted again how bleak the room was. He had come in here in the first week of Merlin’s absence.
“He’s taken everything” he had said.
“He’s taken nothing, Sire” said Gaius. “This is all he owns”
Arthur had looked around at the paltry possessions. How little to show for a life. He had picked up a tunic lying on the bed - the only clothing in the room.
“It’s dirty” had had said absently.
“Merlin was in the stocks before he.. It gets messy”
Arthur had dropped the tunic and left the room. His thoughts were as bleak as the room. He had given Merlin nothing. He had hurt him and let him go into the dark with nothing. That is when he decided to search.
As he sat beside the humble bed with its thin coverlets, (supplemented by blankets from seven beds) he reflected on the months of searching. He had visited almost every village and hamlet in Camelot. He had slept in hovels that made Merlin’s home in Ealdor seem a palace. He was now on first name terms with shepherds and goatherds and woodsmen. And all the time he was learning. He now knew more of the kingdom than any Prince there had ever been.
Once the snow set in he had been confined to the castle and the town. He did not take another servant. Instead looking after the Prince was divided among a few of the general staff. There was Dickon, slow of speech and of gait, who carried the bath water and did the heavy work. (Dickon had chilblains on his hands that bled when it was cold. Arthur gave him an old pair of gloves and won his enduring devotion). Meg, from the kitchen did general tidying. She had a nasty scald on her arm where boiling water had splashed on her. Arthur had sent her to Gaius for a healing salve which eased the pain despite her protestations that the King’s own Physician would not treat a servant. Jinny filled in when the others were not around. She was tiny and Arthur had found her struggling up the stairs with a bucket of water. He had carried the bucket and, noting the weight, respected Merlin for doing this every day. Tom looked after the stables. Tom was walking out with a girl from a little hamlet beyond the woods. (Arthur knew the hamlet; ten houses and a small mill, the cow had died but they had had a good harvest and saved a good supply of food.) Arthur had set aside a purse of silver pennies as a wedding gift for Tom.
During the snow, while sharing out his rations he saw a different side to the town folk. In one tiny house teeming with ill-clad children a little girl had tugged at his doublet. He turned expecting a demanding hand held out. Instead he saw a tiny (rather dirty) face with big eyes and a gap-toothed smile looking at him.
“I seed you with Merlin”
“Yes?”
“Is he your friend?
“Yes” It was the first time he had said it, the first time he had admitted it to himself and his shock at the truth almost made him deaf to the girl’s chatter.
“Merlin is my friend. He fixeded my hand when it was sore.” She held out a grubby hand with a faint scar.
“He fixeded my brother’s leg too but Rob still throwed things at him in the stocks. I don’t like Rob. He’s a dollophead”
The word lanced through Arthur like a knife. Only one person could have taught her that. He tried to speak to cover his confusion.
“Did you throw things?”
“No! Merlin doesn’t like the stocks. He laughs but his eyes make me sad and then I get a tummy ache. I washeded his face once when the boys were horrible and throwed nasty things. He gived me a flower. I like Merlin”
“I like Merlin too” whispered Arthur, guilt tearing at him.
Rosie - for that was her name, did not survive the winter. Arthur had been given the news when he visited a few weeks later. Some childhood ailment, her mother had not been specific. She had many children and had lost others. Rosie was not her favourite. But Arthur had cried. He had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears but he had found himself crying for the death of a peasant girl whose own mother did not care enough to grieve.
Merlin stirred, breaking his melancholy reverie.
“Arthur?”
“I am right here”
“Promise.. I promise”
“Shh.. use your magic, sleep”
Merlin slept.
“Arthur?”
“Here”
“My King”
“Shh, sleep”
Merlin slept.
“Arthur?”
“Hm m?”
“Why is your hair sticking up and you’re all stubbly and whew! you stink?”
“Good morning Merlin, I see you are much better”
“I am not better! I hurt and I am all uncomfortable and the bed has lumps and..”
Arthur stooped and absent-mindedly kissed Merlin on the forehead.
“Drink whatever vile potions Gaius gives you, eat his horrible gruel and I will see you later. I have a council meeting to attend and as you say, I stink” he said.
Arthur moved to the door. “Gaius! He’s awake!” he called.
“Arthur?”
“Yes”
“Did you just...?”
“Shut up Merlin”