A/N: Hey! This came to me as I was pondering the Questing Beast. The episode this is based on (1.13) seemed to leave some unanswered questions (when don't they though?). Anyways, I heart the Questing Beast, even when she's terrorizing the forests of Camelot.
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Merlin or any of its often infuriating characters.
Questing For a Beast
Arthur needed some things from Merlin. Again. He wasn't as stupid as he led his manservant to believe, and this time he would get some answers instead of leaving all those loose ends hanging about. It was messy really, and as the future king he should probably learn to take care of these things, lest one of them come back to bite him where he'd rather it didn't.
He figured the best approach was to not explain his intentions and take Merlin by surprise from the start. Once he found out that you wanted to know something, Merlin had this way of convincing you that he was either completely ignorant of the situation or that he had it completely in hand. Bad things came from that, as he well knew. This time, he was convinced, it would be different.
"Merlin! We're going on a hunt today. Get out my gear so I can get dressed, and for goodness sake don't give me the boots with the hole in the heel. I'm sure you remember what happened the last time you 'forgot'."
His manservant had just walked in with his breakfast. Being addressed so abruptly shouldn't have taken him aback, but what he had said was another matter. Merlin stood there for a few moments, blinking idly before stuttering his response. Arthur guessed his brain had only just registered what the prince had said and his mouth had started forming a response before his brain could get any farther.
"Uh… Ah… D- Do you really think that's such a good idea…Sire? I mean you've only just recovered from a potentially fatal wound, and your arm should still be in the sling…" His head had turned compellingly as he argued his point, and somewhere along the line his hands had started to accentuate his words. He had trailed off at the end which meant that he was now standing there with that look on his face. It was the look that meant his brain had finally caught up and shut his mouth before he could say anymore. This of course meant he was backed into corner and forced to wait helplessly while the person on the outside figured out what he was trying to say, assumed what he hoped he had implied and went on with the conversation.
"Yes, I think it's a wonderful idea. I've had my arm out of the sling for three days now and I'm getting restless from being cooped up in the castle. I can't practice my swordsmanship, or jousting or anything!"
"So you're going to go hunting?" Merlin used that voice that told him he was being a complete idiot again.
"I'm sure netting or spearing a few rabbits won't hurt my arm any more than it already is. Besides, my trusted manservant will be there if anything goes wrong." He patted Merlin on the back as he revelled in the slightly stunned look on his face.
"Where are the rest of your men?" Merlin looked about even though it was clear that it was just the two of them. As he swung around, the spear, cords, and water bladder all swung around with him. Arthur hopped to his right, only just escaping a blow to his injured shoulder.
"Watch it!" he exclaimed. When he was sure Merlin was heading only in the forward direction, Arthur answered his question. "Anyways, I don't need a whole hunting party to go and catch rabbits."
"Right. Rabbits. You do realize the head of this spear is the size of a rabbit's head, right? You'll ruin all the meat just by killing it." Merlin was eying the tip of the spear with a quizzical glint. Arthur suspected he was imagining using it.
"And what do you know about hunting Merlin? The last time I took you hunting you manhandled that spear and then dropped it before I got a chance to use it!" He glanced over at the younger man. His mouth twitched, hiding a smile at the slight blush on the other's face.
"I don't see why you took me hunting in the first place. In fact I don't see why you took me hunting now." Merlin mumbled his thoughts to the grassy clumps beneath his feet. Arthur didn't acknowledge Merlin's words, but he set a quicker pace up the hill ahead.
Merlin really wasn't one for knowing where he was. He could pretend as well as you please, but without a map or explicit directions he was as good as lost. Well not lost exactly, just… unknowing of where he was in relation to other places.
Until that moment, he would have been 'unknowing' of where he was without Arthur as a guide. He had a vague idea that they were heading east into the forest that bordered Camelot's walls, but beyond that he had no idea. It was all just trees and scrub.
They had been walking for the better part of the morning to get here. Through the town, through the gates, across the fields, up the hills, down the hills, up more hills… and finally into the forest. And now they were faced with caves.
But Merlin knew these caves when he saw them. If he had been paying better attention he would have noted the large puddles of water in the ground nearby, the ones that were shaped suspiciously like paw prints. Instead he was watching as Arthur picked up an abandoned torch near the mouth of the caves and lit it with the flint in his pouch and some dry pine needles. As they headed into the caves, Merlin felt the need to say something.
"Arthur…" he started. He could hear the concern in his voice, and knew that Arthur did too.
"Prince Arthur, thank you." He didn't even turn around.
"But that's your name." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He pursed his lips as Arthur turned about to stare at him like he had just dropped his brains on the ground. Sometimes he wondered if this weren't the case. Only instead of flying out in one heaving leap, they just dropped bits out of his ear at inconvenient times. Like now for instance.
They continued on in silence before Merlin's tongue once again gained hold from his brain. "There won't be any rabbits in these caves." This was coming out all wrong, and to prove it the Prince merely sighed from his spot ahead.
"In case you haven't put all the pieces together, we're not here to catch rabbits." Merlin saw the quick glance he got to gauge his reaction. Of course it was an expected one. Merlin often asked the questions that flashed through his mind before he had given them a proper think through.
"Then what are we here for?"
At that moment something slightly convenient happened, at least from Merlin's perspective. When he thought about it of course, it really wasn't so convenient for Arthur. But if it hadn't happened, Arthur may not have been so forthcoming. A gust of wind caught in the cave and billowed about menacingly. This in turn caused the flame on the end of the torch to sputter, throwing distorted shadows upon the walls. A large crack resounded from somewhere within the labyrinth of rock.
It all resembled a scene from a time not too long ago. Although the effect only lasted for a moment, it seemed it was enough to trigger something within Arthur. He stumbled backwards and tripped. Merlin reached for him, but he managed to catch himself on a stone outcrop before he fell. He righted himself, regaining his composure with closed eyes and pursed lips. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a distraught looking Merlin.
The sigh from Arthur made Merlin want to sigh with some type of strange camaraderie. He was clearly alright, but with his recent injury and near death experiences, Merlin wished he could be sure. Instead he got back to the second most pressing subject.
"What is here that is so important?" He hadn't properly thought this situation up and down, but he was starting to gather theories. It could be that Arthur had dropped something. Or maybe it was because this was where he had been injured and he had to settle it within himself. More likely he was paying his respects to Bedivere.
"I want to see the Beast." Whatever Merlin had thought was likely, it wasn't that. Not knowing what to say, he quirked the side of his mouth up and gestured toward the next opening that would lead to the tunnel and adjoining cavern where the Beast had been felled.
Arthur scanned his face for a moment, eyes raking over his features, before giving a slight nod of acceptance. Somehow he had regained his royal poise, and he turned on his heel to lead them onward. No wonder he always got holes in them.
He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Apparently though, a nice normal decomposing corpse was too much to ask for.
"Well?" he asked. He inclined his head in a way that suggested Merlin should start explaining.
"Uh… Well what?" Merlin looked at him with that expression that Arthur could never decide upon. Was it pure, honest idiocy? Or was he hiding something? Pushing the familiar thought out of his head, he answered what he decided was ignorance.
"As I recall you told me that I killed the Beast. I 'plunged my sword into its neck, even as I lost consciousness from its venomous bite'. Isn't that what you said?" His eyebrow quirked slightly.
"I don't recall saying that." Merlin's eyes shifted slightly as his head recoiled in sarcastic disbelief. "I would never give you any more of a hero complex than you've already got. I mean, if you try to rescue too many people, chances are one day you'll be bested, and then who gets blamed? Me, that's who." His voice had gained speed and volume as it tried to lure Arthur's thoughts from what had been said and why. Arthur blinked slowly at his companion's half grin before answering.
"Now who's got the swelled head?" Arthur asked in what he thought was an ironic manner. "The point, Merlin, is that you said I killed it. And others said that they saw it dead. So where is it now?"
Merlin gulped visibly, which was never a good sign. His eyes darted around the cave ceiling, down its jagged, sloping walls and across its dusty floor. Arthur followed his gaze to where it had landed. Dried blood was strewn about almost carelessly. Around one part of the packed dirt was what looked like an outline. There were definite lines, with blood pooling or spraying out from a void space. A space that looked suspiciously like a giant serpent's head.
"What do you make of this?" he asked Merlin, honestly not expecting him to know anything about it. He wasn't sure he could, or wanted to, piece this together.
When Merlin didn't say anything though, Arthur looked up at him. Merlin's gaze had shifted away from the blood lines and was now focused on something that Arthur couldn't see. As he watched, Merlin put down what he was holding, took two paces forward and bent down to tug at something behind a rock. When he couldn't seem to get it he straightened out, his face coming up red and blotchy and his breath coming out in short gasps.
Arthur raised his eyebrows at the sad state of his manservant. "Having some trouble?" He couldn't keep the grin from his voice, even if he could fight it from his face.
Merlin's eyes flashed in response. "There's a sword down here, your sword, and it's stuck between the stones." He was still panting slightly as he said this, and his eyes stayed focused on the supposed sword.
More because he wanted to show Merlin just how weak he was than wanting to reclaim the sword, Arthur strolled over to take a look. There, wedged in between a cascade of dull grey rocks was his sword. It wasn't shining though. From what he could see it was covered in dried blood up to the hilt, which was conveniently the end that was sticking out from the stone.
He thrust the torch at Merlin so that he could have a go at showing him up. Bending down, Arthur wedged his hand between rocky earth and cold metal to get a grip on the sword. He steadied his feet shoulder's width apart in order to get the maximum leverage, and pulled.
When he looked back on this memory, which really was as little as possible, he always wished he had tested the sword first. Clearly he had underestimated how weak Merlin truly was.
The sword came free with what Arthur imagined was the sound of metal and glass hitting each other. Not only that but it came free as easily as cutting hog fat, which of course caused him to fly back into an inconveniently placed patch of jagged outcrops, sword and all.
Merlin hunched over slightly as he giggled to himself. Arthur gave him a disgusted look before getting up from where he had landed. As he went to brush himself off he realized that this was turning out to be a horribly thought out plan. Not only had he found nothing where he wanted to find something, he had served to amuse his servant and reinjure himself in the process. All he had to show was this bloody sword, and it was literally bloody too. Really, it was all Merlin's fault.
"How pathetic are you? Why on earth did you even try to get the sword out in the first place? It's useless to me like this, all covered in blood and starting to rust." At least it seemed to help Merlin get his laughter under control.
"Sorry Sire, I just thought you wanted clues and evidence and all that." Sometimes Arthur really wanted to snatch the grin right off of his servant's face.
"When did I ever say anything about that? It's not even funny Merlin, honestly." Shaking his head, Arthur snatched the torch out of Merlin's grip and proceeded to lead them out of the caves.
"So, what can you tell me now? What do you think happened to the beast?" Merlin turned his head as Arthur started speaking. Arthur merely glanced at him as he walked and talked.
Merlin wondered why Arthur always seemed to think he knew what was going on. He didn't always, and even what he did know he mostly couldn't tell Arthur.
"I dunno, maybe it didn't die. You most definitely stabbed it, but maybe it regained consciousness and pulled the sword out." Merlin gestured with his hand, and only just caught himself from throwing away the spear and newly acquired sword he was holding in the one hand. He glanced over to see if Arthur had noticed, but the Prince was resolutely ignoring his gestures it seemed. He sighed as Arthur remained silent and wondered what he could be thinking. Paranoid about revealing something he shouldn't of, he went back over what he had said in his mind.
Convinced that he himself had been convincing, he decided he had to ask if only to satisfy his own curiosity. "Why, what do you think happened?" It wasn't exactly what he had been wondering, but it would hopefully give him some insight.
"Well Merlin, if you were any sort of hunter or tracker you would have died of starvation by now." Merlin looked down and away from the Prince. He wasn't though, was he? It had been proven that he was useless at this, just like he was useless at everything else the Prince was good at. If only he knew...
The half formed thought was pushed away in a habitual manner, and Merlin returned to where he was supposed to be. Not wanting to seem any stupider by waiting so long to answer, he spoke without trying to figure out what on earth Arthur was talking about.
"Why? What does that have to do with the Beast?"
"Footprints Merlin. There are footprints leading to the cave, but not away from it. It doesn't make any sense."Arthur shook his head in frustration.
As Merlin considered this, he knew he never would have noticed such things as the direction of footprints. "Maybe it knew another way out of the caves?" he suggested, hoping that it was a possibility. He hadn't followed that little voice in his head that said that if there wasn't another way out and if there were no footprints leading out from the caves, this could mean bad things. Bad things that most certainly had to do with magic.
"There aren't, at least not that a creature that size could fit through." Arthur's lips were pursed as he surveyed the forest around them.
Merlin meanwhile was not noticing the forest at all. He had this sudden sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. It was kind of burning and gnawing, and really uncomfortable. Before he thought much further though, Arthur interrupted.
"We'd better move fast through the forest. There's mist coming up from the forest floor, and I really don't want to have to wait the day and possibly night out in the forest, especially not with only you for company." He grinned, and Merlin had trouble deciding how much of it was jesting. It might be fun, he thought. At least I wouldn't have to muck out the stables tonight.
Looking about him once more, Merlin finally noted the rising mist. As if to punctuate how bad this could get, a chill wind wound through the trees, ruffling the dark blond hair of the Prince. Merlin glared angrily around him. What did the wind think it was playing at, mussing about in caves and forests?
At least it was still somewhat sunny. When they had started out their 'hunt' it had been bright with dawn sunlight. Merlin only remembered this because it got into his eyes at one point, blinding him momentarily. Now sun still peaked though the trees, but the mist was rising faintly from the pine carpet, pooling in places with too much shadow.
"Merlin, stop standing there looking like a newborn lamb, come on, get moving." Arthur took hold of the length of rope attached to the water bladder Merlin was badly clasping and swung it around so that the half full bag hit him about the ankles. He jumped in surprise and started walking, which had clearly been Arthur's intent. Arthur of course started laughing, which earned him what Merlin thought of as a menacing glare.
Dropping everything suddenly, he swung about with his fist raised, hoping to catch Arthur off guard. He should have known this would prove useless. Arthur deftly avoided the would-be punch and instead got him in the shoulder with his good arm. Merlin immediately went to hold where he'd been hit but instead forced himself to continue walking like nothing had happened.
"Oh come on, you can do better than that. If you can't then I'm going to have to tell all the servant girls that you're a good for a fight." Merlin let the frustration take hold of his brain again, causing him to stop, kick back at Arthur and aim for a punch, all in one go.
Later, while he was walking through the forest and nursing a twice hit shoulder, he should have realised that those types of incidents never turn out well. Honestly, it should have been reflexive not to get himself into those situations. As it turned out though, it wasn't.
He did manage to kick Arthur's feet out from under him, but the punching part turned out rather badly. He had forgotten to drop the things he was carrying, which meant that both the water and the butt of the spear hit him. Of course the spear hit him where he had previously been punched by Arthur, because where else could it have gone?
Arthur though had the worst of it. Falling down he had hit his injured shoulder on a rock. Merlin thought he heard him curse rocks under his breath, but it may have been a trick of the wind in the trees. Merlin forgot his own pain all at once, instead focusing on Arthur's.
"I'm so sorry Sire, are you alright?" He helped Arthur up, and wondered if his sudden bad balance was due to him or to Arthur's injured shoulder. Or maybe it was just one of those days.
"Yes, I'm fine Merlin, no thanks to you." He sighed as he steadied himself. Merlin felt awful, but he didn't know what else he could do. Instead they started walking, Merlin taking the lead while a pale Arthur took a slower pace behind him. It would have been inappropriate normally, but Merlin honestly didn't mind. Arthur needed to keep his strength and not have to focus on finding the path out of here.
He decided that he would never, ever tell Merlin that it wasn't entirely his fault that his shoulder was in such pain. He would also never mention how much pain he was actually in. He had learned to ignore it somewhere in all his training, as most of his fellow knights had as well.
His servant though kept looking back at Arthur to make sure that he hadn't dropped down suddenly with fatigue or pain. Even when Arthur raised his eyebrows at him, he still continued to look back in what must have been his version of discretion. His eyebrows would be pulled down, and the glance would be quick before he turned back to the front. It would have been endearing if it hadn't been so annoying.
Somewhere along the way Arthur got bored. He had let Merlin take the lead while he went about ignoring pain, but now he needed to focus on something else. Looking about, Arthur realised he had no idea where he was.
"Merlin..." His voice came out like a warning, which he supposed it should have been.
"Yes Sire?" Merlin didn't turn to face him, which seemed bothersome.
"Where are we?"
"In the forest Sire," he answered unhelpfully.
"Thank you."He made it drip with sarcasm. "Where in the forest are we?"
"Uh..." Merlin stopped ahead of him. He looked around and then faced Arthur finally. He didn't say anything, but his eyebrows rose, and his mouth took on a guilty smile.
"Great." Arthur blinked at Merlin for a moment before taking charge with ease. "I'm going to figure out where we are. You are going to go get water." And because he anticipated that Merlin didn't know where to find the water, he answered the question before it came. "I hear rushing water from our left, so I'd advise getting it there."
Once Merlin was out of sight, Arthur sat with his back against a tree, easing the pain in his shoulder.
Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to find the stream. All this mist was rather annoying though. Merlin waded through it, attempting to push it aside to see the rocky slope the dipped into the stream. He didn't want to fall in on top of everything that had already happened today.
He was just dipping the recently emptied water bladder into the stream when he heard a noise behind him. He thought it was Arthur shouting to him, and he was glad he hadn't used magic to clear away the mist. He'd thought about it, but something made him decide not to.
Steadying himself and standing, he looked about for the noise. He didn't see anything but couldn't really expect to.
"Arthur?" He called out, but his shout was deafened by what could now be considered fog. He started walking, hoping to see a patch of red cloak in all of this white. Instead he started seeing patches of brown. Tilting his head, he walked towards them. They turned out to be patches of the forest floor, somewhat visible in the clearing he was slowly approaching. Splotches of green could be seen here and there, but other than that there really wasn't anything of interest here.
About to turn around and try to find the stream once more, Merlin stopped when he saw movement from the side of the clearing. What he saw next took his breath from him.
The Questing Beast lunged into the clearing and out again, all with a flick of its spotted tail. A moment after it, Bedivere came bounding from the surrounding mists, but he didn't seem to see Merlin. He glanced around hurriedly, motioning to someone behind him. "Come on Pellinore, we almost have him!" A painfully clumsy knight came forward obviously and joined Bedivere. His armour was of an older style, which was something Merlin noticed only because of his time spent polishing in the armoury. His visor hid his features, and Merlin definitely didn't recognize the name.
As he watched the two knights raced onwards, Bedivere with his lance raised and Pellinore with sword in hand. Coming up behind them at a slower pace were what may have been just tricks of fog and light. But Merlin could have sworn he saw a bunch of shadowy shapes glide behind the now hidden figures. The figures of the Beast and hunters had themselves been faint, although Merlin wasn't sure if that was because there was mist between him and them.
His brain didn't want to think about these new events. It seemed too confusing, like there were too many possibilities. But then he remembered what Arthur said about footprints. Smiling to himself, he scanned the ground in the clearing. No footprints to be seen. They weren't real then.
He sighed to himself. In whatever twilight realm he had just seen a glimpse of, Bedivere chased the beast that had killed him. Clearly the Beast could come back from its death, judging from the other figures. But it was somehow comforting to know Bedivere's fate.
A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth though. He knew how guilty Arthur felt about Bedivere's death, as much as he wouldn't talk about it. He couldn't even tell him what he had seen here, since it would surely be received with laughter and disbelief. Or as magic. Merlin sighed.
He didn't know how long he stood there before he heard his name being called. Right. Arthur. He turned around and realised that the mists had started to fade. He could see a red figure approaching, and he was quite happy to see the annoyed face of Arthur.
"Where have you been? I sent you for water forever ago." Despite the cross look he was receiving, Merlin couldn't help but smile.
"Sorry," he half-heartedly replied. "I thought I saw something..." He glanced back towards the clearing before going back to the stream to finish what he had started. Arthur was left there with his eyebrows raised to his hairline, blinking in disbelief.
Merlin continued smiling at the now visible stream. He grinned more broadly as he envisioned a future he desperately hoped for. One day, he would be able to tell Arthur without fear of accusation. One day...
Arthur didn't know what he was going to do with his manservant. Really, he wasn't useful for much beyond simple chores. At least on the surface it seemed that way. He was grinning like a fool all the way back to Camelot, and Arthur couldn't help but smile along with him. That was one of the things about Merlin. Even if everything had gone wretchedly wrong, he would still face the world like it was giving him gold and jewels. There was just something about him...