AN: I left it a bit vague on purpose, it's not beta'ed so all the mistakes are mine and I don't own Merlin. Oh, and the flashback is in italics.
The king was sneaking through the castle's corridors, his castle, Arthur thought as he slipped into an alcove waiting for a servant to pass by. He should be able to go where he wanted when he wanted. But if that servant saw him, she would just tell Guinevere and he would never hear the end of it. So here he was sneaking around, for the third evening in a row. Worse, he was sneaking around in his nightclothes. He had to take short pauses every now and then when he felt dizzy, but every time he had reached his destination a bit quicker. Luckily, he didn't want to miss the start.
And just like the last two days, Arthur sank down behind the pillar next to his son's chamber. He leaned his head back against the stone wall. It did wonders to cool down his heated skin. He closed his eyes and listened how Merlin's voice reached the hallway through the open door. Normally Arthur or Gwen told Edmund a bedtime story, but a little more than week ago the castle's normal routine was brutally interrupted. Arthur grimaced slightly at the memory and unconsciously brought his hand to his side. Gaius had bandaged it carefully, but it still felt tender, even if the bruising had receded a bit. He'll probably have a scar for the rest of his life.
On his way back home from a visit to the borders towns, he and the knights were attacked viciously. Arthur still didn't know who was behind the attack. Leon was dealing with it and Gwen had ordered him to let his second in command handle the situation, urging him to rest. Something he happily agreed to although he had expressed a different feeling at the time. Between the two of them and the rest of the Round Table, Leon and Gwen were more than capable to rule Camelot for a while. But he had lost several good knights that day and Arthur felt frustrated he wasn't able to prevent it. So he did what he always did in those situation: he yelled at Merlin...
He hadn't seen his friend since then and in his feverous dreams often wondered what he'd been up to. When the fever finally broke three days ago, it was the first thing he asked Gwen. She just rolled her eyes to cover up her smile and said Merlin was telling Edmund a story. Merlin had started this the day Arthur was unconsciously carried into the castle. He had been lucky. His armour had taken the brunt of the attack, but the 'madman with the axe' had done more than enough damage, according to Gwaine. He believed that, although his memory was still a bit hazy from that day. He only remembered waking up briefly and being furious at Merlin.
But Gwen's answer had confused Arthur. He didn't really understand what him being wounded had to do with Merlin suddenly taken over story time. When Gwen explained further, he was both horrified and grateful. Edmund had seen how his father came home, pale and bloody, by all appearances dead. Not only had his son seen this, he had seen how his mother ran down the stairs to the courtyard, tears in her eyes and very upset. He had seen how other people panicked and called for Gaius. He had seen how Leon looked defeated and Percival tried to calm the frantic horses after the hectic ride back. Nobody had seen the five year old watching from the window, except Merlin.
Leaving a wounded, but very much alive king in the capable hands of Gaius and Gwen, Merlin went to seek the prince. He had expected the boy to burst into the physicians chambers the moment Arthur was brought in, but Edmund hadn't shown himself. Merlin didn't tell Gwen her son saw everything, not wanting to make her worry any more. So it was up to him to find the little prince and honestly he could use the distraction right now...
"Here you are, I've been looking everywhere for you." Merlin popped his head under a sheet. He sighed relieved at the sight of the young prince. The boy was hiding in one of his secret 'castles', this one being made of towels, sheets, chairs and an empty closet. Merlin had been looking for two hours, the prince being as obnoxiously difficult to track down as his father...
"Can I come in?" Merlin asked when Edmund didn't react. "Or do I need a password?"
"Is my dad going to die?" The little prince whispered and looked up, terrified of Merlin's answer.
"Nah, your father is as strong as a tree. Well, he's not as strong as Sir Percival, so probably as strong as a bush instead of a tree." Merlin told the boy as he crawled under the sheets and went to sit next to him in the closet. "He's hurt, but he yelled at me when he woke up, so he'll be better in no time."
"I like your castle." Merlin kept on talking. "It's really great, but you should have a password. When I was younger my friend and I built a camp in a tree and we had a password. It was 'magic' and we used to-"
"But what about next time?" The prince interrupted, his bottom lip trembling now, he didn't feel reassured at all. And before he could help it, he was crying again, burying his face deep in Merlin's shirt.
"Shush, little one," Merlin comforted him, rubbing his back soothingly as the prince sat on his lap. "I won't let that happen again, I promise."
He meant every word. He had let his guard down in these years of peace, but the fact that Arthur was now bleeding on Gaius' table made him wish he never agreed to stay behind. He shouldn't have been lulled in this false sense of security, not when there was still a single person out there planning the next assassination.
"Shouldn't you be in bed right know?" He asked after the boy stopped sobbing uncontrollably, realising the room outside their 'castle' was growing darker.
"I can't go to sleep." The little prince sadly shook his head and wiped away his tears. "My dad always tells me a story and when he can't mum tells me one, but now mum has to look after dad, so I can't go to sleep."
"I can tell you a story." Merlin suggested. It was a wonder how children could look so serious all of a sudden, he thought as Edmund was quietly contemplating this offer.
"What kind of stories?" The prince asked curiously tilting his head, still debating whether he would go to sleep or stay awake.
"Funny stories, thrilling stories about um... a prince," Merlin was making this up as he went, "and um his secret protector?"
"I like stories like that." Edmund finally stated, getting up and pulling a relieved Merlin along with him.
"No, no, he's called Alan." Arthur suddenly heard his son interrupting Merlin's story, which was a pity because Merlin really was on a roll tonight. He was a gifted storyteller, using voices and sometimes, Arthur suspected, he even re-enacted some parts, making Edmund giggle incessantly. Earlier when his boy had come to say good night, he was very quiet and serious, clearly not wanting to tire his dad. But Arthur really loved to hear his son laugh, he needed that as much as he needed rest. Maybe Guinevere would be charmed enough by this argument to stop her from worrying...and lecturing him for being careless.
"What?" Merlin asked confused.
"When dad tells it, the tavern knight's name is Alan, not Dwaine." Edmund told him, wondering why his friend didn't know that.
"Arthur told you this story?" Merlin asked carefully.
"It's my favourite, so I don't mind hearing it again." Edmund assured him, totally misplacing Merlin's shocked expression.
"Okay, but maybe it will be a bit different than the one your father told." Merlin warned before he cleared his throat, resuming the story. "So after escaping the wicked bad men in the tavern, Alan and Emrys rode out to find the prince. Emrys was very worried about the prince and again wondered what's up with royal prats and their need to prove themselves. But would he be on time? Will he find the prince before the dark magic of the enchanted bracelet sucked the life out of him..."
"Why do you think the prince didn't find out that day?" Edmund asked after Merlin finished the story. "My dad said it was because the bracelet was making the prince weak. But I think the prince is a bit stupid. Strength, courage and magic, it's not that difficult. I'm five and I understood the keeper of the bri-i-dge." Edmund yawned and huddled even deeper under his quilt.
"Did you tell your dad this?" Merlin smiled, pulling up the blankets even more.
"Yes, he agreed with me, but said it was good the prince didn't find out that day. He told me the prince still needed to grow a bit wiser."
"Merlin?" Edmund asked faintly trying hard to remain awake.
"When my dad gets better, will you still tell me stories? Maybe you can tell them together and do different voices. My dad's 'prince' voice is really good, but your 'Emrys' one is the best."
"Thanks Edmund, but I'll have to talk to your father about that. Good night." Merlin answered, knowing he really needed to talk to Arthur now.
"Good night Merlin." Edmund mumbled half asleep already dreaming of magical kingdoms and secret sorcerers.
So, what do you think? Please leave a review :) Next chapter, with the TALK, will be up soon, promise.