Work Text:
"MERLIN!" Arthur yelled, opening the door to the physician's chambers with a bang.
Said manservant looked up, annoyed, from where he had been tending to a patient currently lying in the sick-bed.
"What, Arthur? And don't shout, you're disturbing my patient," he protested.
Arthur looked between them, but lowered his voice to normal. "We're going on a hunting trip, pack and prepare the horses, we might be a few days."
"Uh, no, sorry, no can do. I have a patient here who needs constant attention for the next two days and Gaius is out helping the coughing sickness in the lower town. We can go when he gets back," Merlin tells him, and looks back down to where he was holding a wet flannel on the patient's sweating forehead, as if that was the end of the conversation.
Arthur looked put out, but folded his arms across his chest, "Don't be silly, we're not going to postpone the whole hunting trip just because you can't come. Pack and prepare the horses anyway, we're leaving at midday."
Merlin raised an eyebrow in a very Gaius-like fashion. "Right... and who's going to save your royal backside when you get captured this time? Or wounded? Or attacked? Or poisoned because none of you know how to cook?"
Arthur furrowed his brow as if to say 'what on earth are you on about?' and rolled his eyes. "We are knights of Camelot, Merlin, we can look after ourselves you know."
"Ah huh."
"What exactly do you think you could do about it anyway? It's not like you can fight," Arthur asked. When Merlin didn't say anything, just kept looking at him with that eyebrow, he huffed and strode away, leaving the door open. Merlin sighed and got up to close it, before turning back to his patient.
"Sorry about him - he can be a bit of a prat, but he means well."
The patient doesn't say anything, just looks at him with wide eyes, sweat dripping down his face.
Merlin hums absentmindedly as he sets about mixing up another potion for him. He couldn't help but hope that maybe Arthur was right and nothing would happen and he'd get a few days of peace before they came back, but he knew better than to place any trust in it, too many bad experiences for his gut to let him.
* * *
Not an hour after Arthur and the knights had set out from Camelot, they were ambushed. The bandits outnumbered them ten to one, and without Merlin helping them out from the sidelines (not that they knew that), they stood no chance.
Arthur let out a cry, and unsheathed his sword, taking on five attackers by himself. He dodged the first one's blow, and sent his sword swishing through the second, kicking out to his side at the same time as he heard the third one come up and try to land their weapon in Arthur's head. His foot met their belly and they fell back to the floor, their dagger flying out of their hands as they did so. Not giving himself time to recover, Arthur sent a swift jab to the fourth as he came at him with a mace in one hand and a sword in the other. The sound of metal on metal rang out as their swords met, engaging in a small dance of fencing before the fifth bandit arrived. Arthur tried to battle both at once, but with only one sword it was proving to be a bigger challenge than he had hoped for. He cast a glance around at his knights and saw that they were fighting tooth and nail, but nevertheless being pushed back by the difference in numbers. They had managed to lower the ranks of their attackers, but eventually they were overwhelmed and knocked out.
When he woke up, Arthur's first thought was to curse Merlin for giving him such a splitting headache, but then the events of the day caught up to him and he groaned, leaning forward only to feel rope pulling him back. He looked around to discover he had been tied up in a cell with the other knights, all of whom were still asleep. Arthur could see no sign of their attacker. Across from him, Leon murmured something softly, before his eyes shot open and he went to jump up, only to find himself in the same dilemma as Arthur. Their eyes met and Arthur grimaced. He was so in for it with Merlin when he got back, this was exactly what his manservant had warned him about.
* * *
Merlin himself was having a great time, he had given his patient - Kyle - his medicine for the hour and decided to take a stroll, happy with his free time. He came to the border of the wood and bent to pick some flowers. They were beautiful and vibrant, and his magic reacted well to them, feeling the life within them and springing up to meet it. His magic was such a source of pain in his life at the moment, being in Camelot with Arthur, but at times like this when he could feel it pulsing and alive within him he knew he could never truly bear it any ill-will. He felt it bubbling up within him and let out a small laugh, mouth curving up at the corners. He sent it into the ground, sensing the life all around him, every blade of grass, flower stem, tree root, earth worm, being affected and suddenly gaining motivation and life, their colours becoming brighter and the flowers straightening out and reaching towards the sun. Merlin knelt down and felt the ground with his hands, beaming as he took in everything happening. He sent his magic out, out through the trees and into the forest, racing through rabbit holes and up trees and across brooks. He laughed again, unable to describe the elation he felt as each tendril of magic encountered a new, different form of life.
All of a sudden, his magic recoiled, as if wounded, and he frowned, sending it back again more cautiously, wary of what he might find. He caught a glimpse of a fight, a flash of red and the silver of armour, and heard the clash of sword on sword. Arthur's face swam into his vision, screwed up in determination and anger. Merlin withdrew his magic, letting out a sigh. He had been right. Of course he had, who was he kidding? The day that Arthur goes out on a hunting trip and doesn't get ambushed, he thinks he'll have a heart attack from the shock. He lay there for a while, drinking in the magic in the air immediately around him, before reluctantly rising to his feet.
As he heads back to the physician's chambers, he starts working out what the attackers would do with Arthur. From what he had seen, they had been outnumbered enough that even Camelot's best wouldn't be able to escape easily. The bandits looked relatively unskilled, relying on numbers rather than talent, so he guessed they were amateurs, which meant he doubted they'd kill them immediately, not having enough experience to know that if they wanted to kill Arthur, it was better to do it sooner rather than later which would give Merlin time to find them. He sorted through the obvious places to take them - there was the abandoned fort at the east, the remains of an old castle near the west, the still-in-use but badly guarded fort near the north-west border which had dungeons, and an underground shelter he had discovered one time after he himself had been captured and taken there. That was a good one, but he suspected these bandits hadn't discovered it.
He was so engrossed in his musings that he failed to notice Gwen until he bumped into her, spilling his flowers all over the floor.
"Gwen! Hi!" He greeted happily, bending down to pick up the flowers.
Gwen smiled warmly at him, bending down as well to help him. "Merlin! How come you're here? I thought I saw Arthur leave for a hunting trip earlier? Not that you would necessarily be with him, just that normally... well... he had the knights with him and I thought- but clearly you're here, unless you've already got back? But that would have been a very short trip..." the servant babbled as she helped Merlin pick up his dropped flowers.
Merlin grinned, he had missed hanging out with Gwen. She was his oldest friend here, but with all his duties for Arthur - as well as the... extra-curricular ones - he barely found time to spend with her.
"Yeah I know, I'll admit it's weird, but I have a patient who needs medicine given to him every hour so I couldn't go - but of course when I told Arthur that, the prat just told me that 'we're knights of Camelot Merlin, we can look after ourselves,'" He mimicked, rolling his eyes. Gwen laughed, she could very well picture Arthur saying that, defensive as he realised that he had definitely been expecting to have Merlin and rather off-put, both by the fact that he now wouldn't have his servant by his side, and also by the fact that said servant thought he needed him by his side.
"Oh, that reminds me, I meant to come and check on Kyle the other day, how is he?" she asked.
Kyle had been a childhood friend of hers, and she had been the one to fetch Merlin when he had fallen sick. Merlin grimaced.
"He's doing alright, considering. I'm on my way to give him his next dose now if you want to come?" He invited.
Gwen nodded eagerly and they set off, chatting amiably between themselves on the way. After Merlin had given Kyle his potion, showing Gwen everything he was doing, he turned to his friend hesitantly.
"Hey, Gwen, can I ask you a favour?"
"Of course Merlin, anything," Gwen reassured.
"Do you think you could give Kyle his next doses until I come back? I have something I kind of need to do but I can't leave him by himself... You know how to do it, I've made all of the potion already, all you'd have to do is give it to him and be on hand if he needs anything..."
Gwen smiled. "No problem, how long do you think you'll be?"
Merlin scratched the back of his neck. "A couple hours? I should be back before dark."
"Sure then," Gwen agreed, turning back to Kyle with a grin. "We have gossip to catch up on anyway."
Merlin thanked her before rushing out, calling back an 'I owe you!' as he left. He headed straight for the forest, in the direction of the badly guarded fort, seeing as that's what most newbie bandits tended to use.
As he drew nearer he sent out his magic ahead of him, scouting out the area and sensing the presence of the guards and bandits around the fort as he approached. He counted 30 around the outside, moving around, patrolling the edge. There were ten pacing back and forth in front of the entrance, and Merlin crouched down behind a bush to assess them from afar. Three of them looked like actual guards, but the rest of them were clearly bandits, tossing a ball between each other and laughing uproariously at terrible jokes. Merlin rolled his eyes. They were completely unprepared.
"I don't get paid enough for this shit," Merlin muttered.
One of the actual guards caught sight of Merlin's boot, sticking out slightly from behind the hedge and he withdrew it sharply, but not soon enough. The guard left the others playing their game and wandered over to Merlin's hiding place, drawing his sword. As soon as he got close enough, Merlin shot out, coming around behind him before he had time to react, and crossed his arms around his neck, one hand squeezing the back of the guards head. He twisted his arms to the side until he heard a crack, and dropped the lifeless body to the ground.
Unfortunately, this caused one of the bandits to look up and Merlin watched as a horrified expression found its way onto the man's face. Merlin huffed, annoyed, but shot out quickly again, silently drawing two daggers and slicing through the throats of the closest two bandits before anyone else had realised what was happening. The man who had first seen him came rushing at him and Merlin side-stepped him easily, sending a small kick to the back of his leg, hearing a snap that sent him sprawling. There was a flash of silver as he threw one dagger into the eye of an oncoming man, dodging another man's blow to his temple, ducking down and around, coming back up to stab his second dagger into the bandit's spine with deadly accuracy.
Spinning, not letting go of the dagger, just leaving the body to slump to the floor, he faced the remaining four, two guards and two bandits. He went for one of the guards first, bringing his dagger up into the man's sternum and then turning on his heel to send a magically enforced uppercut to the bandit coming up behind him which sent him sprawling, nose broken and beginning to bleed. The two remaining charged him at once, the guard swinging his sword and the bandit wielding a club. Merlin bent low to the ground to dodge the club, coming up to deal two swift blows to a pressure point on each shoulder, rendering his arms useless. He proceeded to use the armless bandit as a human shield, turning so that the guard ran the bandit through instead of him. He chucked the man aside and faced the guard with a grin. The guard was fast, and lashed out with his sword, aiming for Merlin's chest. The servant only just had time to avoid the death blow, still slicing through the side of his shoulder. Merlin dropped his grin in annoyance, giving the guard an exasperated look.
"Really Harold? I thought you'd know better by now," he said with his hands on his hips. The guard - Harold - looked down and shuffled his feet, ashamed.
"Sorry Merlin, got carried away," he said nervously, not meeting the servant's eyes. Merlin rolled his eyes but turned away to retrieve his other dagger, knowing that Harold wasn't going to try anything else.
Merlin could feel Arthur and the knights' presence as soon as he walked through the entrance. He made his way stealthily through the corridors, knowing the fort well enough to make his way to the dungeons.
Three more bandits came at him before he was half way down one corridor and he dealt with them quickly and sharply, choosing to knock them out with the hilt of his daggers, not wanting more blood than necessary on his hands. Another five made an attempt on him as he grew closer to the dungeons. Clearly that was where Arthur was being kept, the security increasing the closer he got. He stabbed two of the five with his daggers, before withdrawing them and throwing them symmetrically into the chests of another two. He tackled the last one, bringing his arm round behind him and snapping it, before taking hold of his head and bringing it down onto his knee. He threw him to the side and continued on his way, drawing another dagger from the back of his belt into his right hand and with his left he brought out what looked like four metal rings melded together, which he slipped onto his fingers.
He saw five more guards in total, but none of them made a move on him, just acknowledging his greeting nod with one of their own, they knew Merlin well.
Merlin caught sight of Arthur's face at the door to the dungeons, where seven more bandits were standing in wait, playing a game of dice. Merlin sighed. There was no way of getting around them without a fight. Arthur can suck it. He waited for a beat, taking some deep breaths, before coming out of the shadows and tackling the nearest man silently. He chose to ignore the gasp that came from the direction of the cells, it would only distract him. He realised he couldn't leave any of the bandits conscious, otherwise he'd never be able to get out with the knights, so he dived into a roll underneath the first bandits legs, coming up behind him to swing up onto his shoulders and deal three sharp blows to the side of his head. The man went down, and Merlin kicked off from his head to land two punches to the bandit opposite, taking hold of the second bandit's jacket and bringing his legs up to his chest, kicking him with enough force to send them both back. Merlin caught the shoulder and head of a third in time to right himself, using the momentum to swing his legs round again, sending the fourth bandit two kicks to the place where the sun don't shine, causing him to double over. The third bandit, who he had been using as a maypole, brought his hands up to grab Merlin and slam him on the ground.
"Oof," Merlin grunted as the air was knocked out of him, but he didn't waste any time, jumping up and sending a roundhouse kick to the bandits face, knocking him down. The second bandit had recovered by now, and he was looking at Merlin crossly half with fear, half annoyance.
Merlin panted, facing the four that were left and bringing his fists up to his face. He punched the fifth (the one on his right) in the face with his metal covered hand, seeing blood when he took it away, before turning to hit the side of the sixth with his right hand, hilt of his dagger clenched in his fist, lending extra strength to his blow. The second and seventh bandits had drawn their swords, looking at him with fury in their eyes. Merlin sighed and looked at them, bored. He shook out his fists and moved quickly, stabbing the seventh in the gut and ramming his metal fist up into his jaw. He didn't see the second's sword coming, however, and felt a sharp pain in his thigh as it stabbed him. He looked over to find the owner of the sword grinning, but the grin quickly faded as he caught sight of Merlin's expression. The servant didn't even seem bothered by the sword embedded in his leg, just annoyed, as though it were a mild inconvenience. The bandit's eyes widened in fear as Merlin drew his fist back, but any attempt to plead for mercy was cut short as Merlin's metal knuckles connected with his face. His eyes rolled back into his head as he fell to the ground. Merlin took the sword from his leg with a grimace, but held it aloft as he turned.
The fourth bandit, who had been cowering on the floor ever since Merlin had kicked his balls, rose hesitantly, going to draw his sword. But when Merlin turned to face him with a withering look, tossing his dagger in the air and catching it again with a sword dripping blood in his other hand, he let out a whimper and turned on his tail, fleeing for his life. Merlin rolled his eyes. Pathetic.
Then he remembered why he was here. Moving towards the cell where the knights were kept, he saw them all watching him with wide eyes. Oh yeah, they'd seen that. That was gonna be fun to explain. He wondered briefly if there was any chance he could just knock them all out hard enough that they wouldn't remember, until he realised that he didn't know where the memory bit was in the brain yet, that was Gaius's next lesson. Besides, he didn't want to cause any more brain damage - the gods knew Arthur had enough.
The cell was locked, so he went back to get the key from one of the bandits' belt, returning and unlocking the door for the knights, who still hadn't said a word, all looking at him stupidly with dumbstruck expressions on their faces. Merlin stood in the middle of them, hands on his hips as he waited for them to wake up. Gwaine was the first to recover, giving Merlin an amazed shake of the head and giving a breathy laugh.
"You never cease to amaze me, Merlin," the knight smirked, looking up at Merlin suggestively. That seemed to snap everyone out of their daze, and Arthur's scowl was back as he glanced over to Gwaine. He had been looking at Merlin with something akin to... wonder.
"Merlin?" The king prodded, as if to make sure that it was really him. Merlin turned to him, looking so fed up it would have been comical if not for the situation he found himself in.
"What did I say? Tell me, what did I say? I TOLD you you were gonna get kidnapped but 'no Merlin, we're knights, perfectly capable of surviving on our own' and what happened? You got kidnapped. And I had to come save you. This is your fault."
Arthur puffed out his chest indignantly. "You did not have to 'come save us', we were doing perfectly fine. We had a plan!" he protested.
Merlin raised his eyebrow at the king, before turning and looking around at all the rest of the knights who shuffled their feet and wouldn't meet his gaze, still all tied up.
"Of course you did. And I'm sure it was going great, maybe I should just leave you to it then Oh Mighty King of Camelot. I'll just lock this again shall I?" Merlin asked sarcastically, motioning to the door.
"No!" Arthur yelped, manlily.
Merlin nodded, satisfied, and went to untie everyone else who looked at him gratefully, shooting the king embarrassed looks. When Merlin got round to Arthur, he felt the king's gaze on the back of his head and focused on the knotted rope in front of him. The knot was terrible, these bandits really were the worst, but it made Merlin's job easier, so he didn't complain.
They all traveled cautiously through the halls, only stopping for Merlin to retrieve his daggers from the two bandits he had killed earlier, the knights watching with wide eyes as they all had the same realisation - how many people did Merlin have to fight to get to them? And how many were still alive? They all gave the four dead and one unconscious bodies a wide berth as they stepped around them, only to find three more down the next.
Percival and Elyan shared a glance and looked away quickly, both scared of how skilled Merlin clearly was. How did a servant get to learn how to single-handedly take down a massive group of bandits, and have the audacity to look bored while doing it.
By the time they reached the collection of dead/unconscious bodies by the entrance, all of the knights' faces were tinged with green. They stepped over them in single file, Merlin in the lead with Arthur close behind, trying to keep up. Merlin didn't slow down for him, keeping a sharp eye out for any and all dangers. He knew there were still men patrolling - he was sure he had sensed at least thirty around the outside - but he had only encountered the ten by the entrance. Surely someone had noticed their bodies by now?
Suddenly, he sensed life nearby and froze, lifting up his hand as a command for the others to do the same. So that's where the other bandits were. All around them, hiding on the border of the forest, waiting to ambush them as they came out. Merlin sent out a tendril of magic in order to assess their opponents' strengths - most of them weren't very good, a lot of them had just been dragged in by a friend and as such didn't really know what they were doing. Merlin counted nineteen in total, surrounding them on all sides.
Arthur came up behind him, about to ask what was going on, but Merlin put his hand up again, silencing him and making him open and close his mouth in indignation. Merlin closed his eyes, he knew it was going to be difficult, but if the knights stayed still for long enough... he thought he could do it.
He sent out his magic again, this time in a powerful wave, invisible to the eye but felt by anyone he meant harm to. The bandits one by one tripped and fell, losing consciousness before they hit the ground. When he was certain they were all asleep, Merlin opened his eyes again, making sure he didn't look at anyone in case of any lingering gold flickering in them. He ignored the dizziness that came from using so much magic at once and beckoned to them, advancing slowly to the woods.
The knights' eyes grew impossibly wider as they stepped over yet more unconscious bodies, thinking about the conversation they were going to have to have with Arthur's manservant as soon as they were safe again.
The way back was mostly silent, apart from the sounds of their feet as they trampled through the undergrowth. Merlin's scowl never left his face, and he marched in front relentlessly, seemingly less affected than the others by the wild plants. Until Gwaine, deciding that enough was enough, piped up;
"So... are we all just gonna ignore the fact that Merlin saved our asses back there? And knocked out or killed a massive group of bandits? Which for the record was hot as fuck," At this last, he threw a wink to where Merlin had turned around, looking at him with fond exasperation - before a cheeky expression made its way onto the servant's face and he bit his lip, giving the long-haired knight a look from beneath his eyelashes that spoke of not-so-innocent thoughts.
The knights all looked between the two, baffled, before all deciding that they were better off not knowing. No one answered Gwaine, until Leon, giving a heavy sigh, just told him that it wasn't worth it and to wait until they were home. Gwaine rolled his eyes but complied anyway.
When they finally arrived at the city gates, everyone heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be home. Everyone except Merlin that is. The warlock always felt trapped in these gates, confined, as though something would always stop him from reaching his full potential - which, he reflected, wasn't that far from the truth. He could do all sorts of magic behind peoples' backs, sure, but he constantly had to be on alert in case someone saw and came forward to sentence him to death. So Merlin's sigh was not of relief, but a painful resignation to what he knew he had to endure.
Merlin and Arthur headed to the latter's chambers, Arthur taking the lead again this time. When they arrived, the king shut the door behind them and leant his head against it for a second. Merlin, not knowing what to do, stood there, jaw set and eyes staring straight ahead as he wondered what his punishment would be.
"How? How in all the world, did you learn that? And why? Why, Merlin? Of all the things to have as hidden talents, this is by far the most disruptive," his king didn't turn, speaking into the door as though he couldn't bare to look at Merlin.
"It wasn't exactly a choice, my lord," Merlin replied, trying his hardest to remain civil, but unable to stop the testiness of his tone. At this, Arthur did turn, finally looking at his servant with new eyes, taking in the sight before him. Merlin stood with his back straight, but his shoulders slightly stooped, as though he were resigned to something. As Arthur watched, Merlin's eyes moved to meet his, and the depth of what was in them surprised him. He didn't know why Merlin suddenly being completely able to defend himself - and not just defend, but annihilate - from an enemy shocked him so much. The image he had had before of Merlin, well-meaning and loyal to a fault, but unable to truly act on his promises, had been shattered. He felt as though someone had pulled the rug out from under his feet, as though he had woken up one day and the sky was green, had always been green, he had just been seeing it wrong. He didn't know how to act, how to feel.
"What do you mean? How could it not have been a choice? Getting that good at fighting isn't something that just happens. By accident."
"Yeah well, I can only save your royal backside so many times before I start to pick things up," Merlin gave him a half-smile, his attempt at humour like an olive branch.
Arthur took it, rolling his eyes fondly, "Sure, you keep telling yourself that."
Merlin huffed. "If you knew how many times I've saved your life, you'd be singing a different tune right now," he said, taking a step forward and narrowing his eyes in a challenge.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Is that so?" He asked, stepping forward too, so that there was only about a foot between them. They didn't break eye contact, and Arthur felt his heart race as though he was about to go into battle, only so much sweeter.
The side of Merlin's mouth quirked up, and Arthur followed the movement with his eyes before returning to look back into the dark blue of Merlin's irises. How had he never noticed Merlin's eyes before? They were so deep, so mesmerising, he felt as though he could look into them for days and never get tired or run out of things to find.
"Would be something like this - 'Oh my gods, Merlin, thank you for saving me Merlin, what would I do without you Merlin, my saviour Merlin,'" the dark haired warlock mocked, widening his eyes and bringing his hands up to his clutch at his heart in an imitation of a damsel in distress, taking another small step forward until he was looking down at Arthur, being slightly taller than him.
Arthur's breath caught in his throat and his adam's apple bobbed, unused to this feeling, unused to this powerful side of Merlin, although the teasing was the same, it felt as though there was something more to it than before, more words that weren't being spoken, although their meanings were clear in every action. But he refused to be outdone, and took another small step until his face was inches from Merlin's and he could feel the darker haired man's breath on his face, looking up into his eyes and feeling every cell in his body come alive.
"You seem to have lots of practice being the damsel in distress Merlin, happen often?"
Neither of them spoke for a moment, both of them just staring at each other, breaths slow and controlled, hearts pounding. Then Arthur started to lean in when-
"Sire-!" The door burst open to find Leon panting, his hands on his knees. Merlin and Arthur sprang apart, eyes wide as saucers. "Come quick- the lower town- a fire-," the head knight continued as he tried to catch his breath.
Arthur was out of the door in an instant, hand on his sword and Merlin following behind. He was already barking orders at anyone who would listen- to fetch pails of water or to evacuate the people, striding down the corridor as fast as he could without running, trying to get to the scene of the action in time.
When they arrived, it was terrible. It was just one house, separated from the rest by a wooden fence, but the sight of flames pouring out of the windows, licking up the sides and all around, nothing escaping. The family that lived there were easily told apart from the rest, clothes singed and faces ashen as they stared at what had happened to their home. Suddenly, Merlin heard a cry from inside. There was someone still there! Not hesitating even for a second, he marched up to the house and straight in, pulling his handkerchief up over his nose and ignoring Arthur's shout behind him. He made his way as quickly as he could, ducking to avoid bits of burning beams, jumping out of the way just in time as one of the roofs caved in. The heat was intense, he was sweating buckets, and his eyes were streaming thanks to the smoke. He followed the sound of the crying to a cot at the very back of the house where the fire was less intense. The baby in there could be no more than 10 months old, tiny and bawling its eyes out. Merlin bent down and scooped him into his arms, ignoring the sting from his earlier cut on his arm as he put weight on it. Blinking through the tears, he had to drop his neckerchief from his mouth in order to hold the baby with both arms, and nearly choked at the onslaught of smoke in his lungs. He tried to hold his breath, making his way back to the entrance where he could see a patch of blue sky amidst the reds and yellows of the flames that surrounded him.
Before he reached it, there was a crash and he looked up in time to see a burning pole hurtling down through the air towards him. He tried to roll out of the way, keeping the baby aloft and held as far as possible from the danger, but he couldn't miss it, and caught it on his back, letting out a yell as it burnt through his tunic, burning his skin before rolling off. He nearly fell, unable to see thanks to his eyes, only able to make out a vague sense of where he was headed. He held the baby tight to his chest and barreled forwards, dipping to avoid any more injuries. As soon as they were clear of the entrance, he collapsed into a hacking cough, hitting the ground as someone took the baby from him.
"MERLIN!" He heard, before he passed out.
* * *
The next thing he knew, he was blinking awake, and then regretting it at the sudden attack of light, covering his arms with his arm and letting out a groan.
"Merlin?!" came a voice from beside him that Merlin knew all too well.
"'Rth'r?" He murmured groggily, making another attempt at using his eyes to make out the king sitting in a chair with his head raised, as though he had just been leaning against the bed that Merlin found himself to be in.
He tried to move himself to an upright position, but Arthur's hands stopped him.
"Stop, Merlin, you need to rest, you've been hurt pretty badly," the king soothed, his voice so sweet. Merlin liked Arthur's voice, no matter how angry he was, he always managed to sound caring - in this instance, however, Arthur didn't sound angry, in fact he sounded as though taking care of Merlin was his top priority. Merlin creased his brow, confused. Why was he expecting Arthur to be angry? It's probably just second nature by now, the amount of things you're keeping from him that he has a right to be angry about. Said a nagging voice in his head. Shut up. Merlin told it.
The events came back in a rush, the fire, the baby, the hunt, that moment in Arthur's chambers- Merlin cut his train of thought off in favour of looking his king up and down.
"Why are you here?" He accused.
Arthur leaned his head back, affronted. "Excuse you, I just had to check my manservant was going to bring me breakfast tomorrow morning. I don't want to have to put up with George any longer!"
Merlin's eyes shifted on his last sentence, looking sharply up at his king. "Any longer? How long was I out? It shouldn't have been more than a few candle-marks, from what I felt."
Arthur didn't make a joke about his servant managing to assess the damage when half-passed-out, because, from what he'd seen today, he had good reason to believe that Merlin really could do exactly that.
He sighed. "Merlin, the damage from the fire alone should have had you out for at least a day and a half, but you had other injuries too, not to mention the lack of sleep, and so you've been affected more than you would have been. Still, you're early - judging by the amount of damage you should still be asleep until the day after next, it's only been one."
Merlin tried to think about what other injuries Arthur could be talking about - there was the stab to his thigh that Arthur saw, his magic had been working on that one ever since he got it, stopping it from bleeding and healing it from the inside out, so he wasn't too worried. There was a gash on his shoulder, but nothing serious enough to warrant Arthur's concern like this. He thought some more, there were the whip marks from a few days ago, when he had dropped another assassin's body down in the dungeons, only to find that the new guards had been put on rota instead of Merlin's friends, but Arthur shouldn't know about those. There was another stab wound in his stomach, from said assassin, but he had bandaged that one up immediately and it had started to fade even before they set out on the hunt. There was a sharp cut across his hip - that one had hurt, it had touched bone - but that was from weeks ago now, from when he had been briefly captured with the others one time and their captors had taken some... liberties. But Arthur shouldn't know about any of these, unless... he remembered the branch and how it had torn through his tunic. His blood rushed cold as he gave his king a fearful look, realising the king must have seen some of his wounds - he just hoped he had missed the scars.
"Um... what do you mean, damage?" the servant asked, aiming for casual but sounding slightly higher than normal.
Arthur gave his manservant a long look. He had indeed seen Merlin's injuries, along with a good few scars, before Gaius had kicked him out. "Merlin... why do you have whip marks on your back?" He inquired gently, as if afraid a sudden movement would scare the raven-head away.
"No reason," Merlin replied shiftily. Inside he was panicking. How on earth had he let this happen? This was going to cause so many questions that he couldn't answer and one thing might lead to another and his secret could get out. He wouldn't meet the king's eyes, instead choosing to look around the room. The main chamber of the physician's quarters was no different from usual, chaotic and messy, yet completely organised to a trained mind. "Besides, haven't you got better things to think about than your servant's accidents? I can't have been gone that long, considering the castle's still intact, but George can't write speeches - don't tell me you wrote your own I wont believe you. And the agreement with Gwynedd, how did that go?" The council meeting to decide it had been scheduled for the day after everything had all happened, so, today. He pushed himself up, ignoring Arthur's efforts to prevent him, and made for the door, a little wobbly but stable enough not to fall over.
He opened it and strode out in the direction of the king's chambers to see what had been going on. Arthur followed him, ordering him to go back to bed and rest, but Merlin tuned him out, he had bigger things to worry about. Once they arrived, Merlin went immediately to the desk, rifling through papers until he found the draft for the speech he'd prepared for Gwynedd. He glanced outside - guessing by the light, it was mid-afternoon. The meeting had been scheduled for this evening, so he breathed a sigh of relief, he hadn't missed it. He gave the room itself a cursory look, finding it unexpectedly clean. George, he remembered. He and the other servant had struck up a bond that time he had taught Merlin about polishing, and now George helped him often, whether it was with bandaging a wound or distracting guards, he had been roped into Merlin's life, and Merlin couldn't be more grateful. He sat down to begin working on the speech.
"Mer-lin!" Arthur panted, having just caught up with his surprisingly fast manservant. "You- should be- resting, Gaius said so!" Merlin just raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of his guardian.
"No he didn't," was all he said before bending his head again to get back to work. He knew Gaius wouldn't have said that, after all, his mentor knew that Merlin wouldn't be able to get any rest if he wasn't able to work, he'd just wind himself into a tizzy, so they had come to an agreement. By an agreement, that means Merlin gets to do whatever he wants and Gaius can't stop him. Especially if he doesn't know about any of his wounds.
Arthur huffed. Merlin was right, but he shouldn't be. He walked across to his desk, and leant across, making eye contact with his servant.
"Alright that's it. First, you show that you can actually fight, and then you run headfirst into a fire, then it turns out you're covered in injuries old and new from head to toe, and now you're trying to tell me you're fine. No. You are going to rest if it's the last thing you do," he ranted.
Merlin met his eyes, just as annoyed. "No, Arthur, don't you see? I have to finish this first, I can rest afterwards."
"Damn the speech Merlin, you're more important! Stop being so bloody self-sacrificing, that's my job! You don't need to look after everything you know, especially right now when you should be IN BED!"
Merlin just looked at him for a beat, not knowing how to respond, so Arthur reached across and grabbed him by his neckerchief, marching him around the table and to his bed. Merlin followed silently, as though the fight had left him. At least, until Arthur sat him on his bed. He jumped up again as if he was burned.
"Stop it Arthur, I'm not going to rest on your bed, I have things to do, important things, so please just let me do them," he said, backing away towards the door. Arthur followed him.
"Merlin, you are wounded, other people can handle things for a while, you shouldn't be working like this."
Merlin scoffed. "Yeah right, the world doesn't stop spinning just because I got a little beaten around, the last time I took a break, three parties of nobles left, insulted, there was not one, but two separate fires, your father sentenced five people to the stake, you got stabbed and a guard died trying to stop an assassin. So yeah, sure, I'll take a break, as soon as I know everything wont go to shit when I do!" He was breathing heavily, completely exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally, all of it.
Arthur's eyes softened and he took a careful step towards his manservant, coming up close to put his hands on the brunette's shoulders.
"That isn't your job, Merlin, you're supposed to polish my armour, not take care of the entire kingdom."
"Someone has to," the raven muttered, but looked back at Arthur reluctantly. "Listen, let me at least check on things, then maybe I might rest a little."
Arthur inclined his head, realising this was the best he was going to get. His eyes flickered up again and he realised how close they were standing, Merlin with his back against the door. Merlin seemed to have the same realisation, his eyes widening as he opened his mouth to say something. But Arthur cut him off with a kiss, effectively ending that thought.
Merlin froze for a second, before melting into it, his hands coming up around Arthur's neck as he deepened it.
Arthur's hands found his waist and he pushed him up against the door. After what could have been hours or minutes or merely seconds, they came apart for air, resting their foreheads against each other, matching grins on their faces.
From then on, the two were even more inseparable than before, and the gossip mill had a field day, everyone trying to guess what had happened. Many coins were exchanged begrudgingly, and Gwaine collected many of them with a grin on his face, he had guessed it would happen soon enough after the bandits and so had gone to as many taverns and groups as he could to find people willing to bet against him.
Morgana and Gwen, too, had similar fortunes, but to everyone's surprise, Leon, who had eventually been roped into it, got the most, having predicted it perfectly.