Hello, Merlin fans. I'm baaaaack!
Haha, so I have returned, and I come bearing gifts! No, not the last chapter of How To Save a Life (yet). If feel so bad every time someone favorites it, or puts an alert on it, or reviews it, I know I'm scum of the earth for leaving it like that. I have no excuse. Life just happened. But I have recently rewatched this series (I hadn't watched it since the 5th season ended), and the inspiration for more merthur fiction has struck me. Mostly to continue with the mute!Merlin series I began over 3 years ago. I had some wonderful little prompts suggested to me back then by bluespiritgirl (not sure if she's still around on here) and they have literally been saved in a file on my computer all these years, because I had planned to write a short story for all of them.
This is one of the ideas. For those who have not read my previous mute!Merlin stories, they are Speechless and No Words Needed (although the last one is rated M for... adult content. ;) so don't say I didn't warn you, haha). For those of you new to this particular series of mine, when I initially wrote them, I just liked the idea of a mute Merlin, but I hadn't really looked into the reality of if my reasons for him being mute would be accurate. It was more creative license than anything. But after some research, my explination now is the damage to his vocal cords which prevents him from speaking paired with something like selective mutism because he does not like hearing what sounds he can make. (This will be explained more in another one of these short stories I'm planning.)
Anyway, it is great to be back. I hope some of you who have followed me for my Merlin stories will be please with this. And I welcome any new readers into this adventure, and invite you to go read the previous two parts to this series if you like (and are old enough for the second one. :P).
Enjoy.
Merlin grimaced, digging his fingers into the soft earth and pulling with all of his might. His arms trembled, brow furrowed in determination, but he could not pull his foot free from the felled trunk that pinned it. He kicked back with his free foot, but only received a stubbed toe for his troubles.
He pounded the ground with a fist, cursing his clumsiness and rotten luck.
Merlin and Arthur were camping at Arthur's father's cabin (totally Arthur's idea) and Merlin had gone out to find a spot to take some pictures for his photography class. Arthur had stayed behind to clean the fish he'd caught and to start their supper.
After walking for about twenty minutes, spotting nothing of interest, Merlin came across a small river lined with trees glowing with the brilliant colors of fall, like a grove of fire.
It was perfect.
Merlin glanced around looking for the best points to take his photos from. A ways down his side of the river was a dead tree leaning against the next. The bark was ruff and pockmarked, easy enough to climb. He shook it a bit, decided it seemed sturdy enough, and shimmied his way up to where the two trees met. He leaned his left shoulder against the still-standing tree, pulling the camera off from around his neck.
The click of the shutter echoed slightly in the surrounding forest, mixing with the gentle song of birds. Merlin smiled, changing the angle of the camera.
He was just taking his fourth picture when he heard a loud crack and the ground came rushing up to meet him.
It took a second of shock for him to realize it was he who had moved, not the ground.
And another second for him to realize the heavy weight pinning his left foot was the large, dead tree trunk he'd just been perched on.
Now he was struggling to free himself.
He tried twisting around to reach the tree, but the ground sloped down the river's edge and he couldn't get his body up and at the right angle without a sharp pain shooting up his trapped leg. He tried bracing his right foot against the base of the trunk to lift and push it off. No luck.
Fishing his phone out of his pants pocket, Merlin thought he could text Arthur to come and help him. But his body went numb at the sight of two little words up in the corner of the screen.
No service.
His pulse began to race and his throat tightened. Arthur wasn't expecting him to return to camp any time soon. And if he did come looking for him…
It was a large forest.
….
Arthur pulled his hoodie sleeves down, holding his hands out closer to fire. The sun was beginning to set and the chill evening air was moving in. He scanned the trees around the cabin, listening for the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs, anything to signal Merlin's return.
There was nothing but the buzz of insects, the gentle lapping of waves on the lake, and the last calls of birds.
He checked his wrist watch, eyebrows rising in surprise.
Merlin had been gone for almost two hours.
He knew his boyfriend would take pictures all day if allowed, but it soon would be dark and, well, Arthur was hungry. He'd cleaned the fish he'd caught earlier and it was sitting in fridge in the cabin, just waiting to be cooked. Merlin's supper of rough chopped fresh vegetables and herbs were already wrapped in foil and only needed to be popped in the oven.
A clap of thunder sounded out of nowhere and rain began to drizzle down.
Arthur extinguished the fire with a bucket of water. So much for a romantic dinner under the stars. He checked the fire was completely out, before grabbing a flashlight from inside the cabin and heading into the trees.
Time to go hunt for Merlin. Before he got lost in the dark.
….
"Merlin!"
Merlin's head shot up as he heard Arthur shouting his name. It had begun to rain and he'd quickly been soaked to the bone, the cold evening air robbing his body of warmth. He raised a shaky hand, waving it around, hoping Arthur would see it.
"Merlin! Merlin? If you can hear me, follow my voice!"
He waved his hand furiously, coughing to try and draw Arthur's attention, but a rumble of thunder drowned the small sound out.
"Merlin!"
Merlin nearly cried as he realized Arthur's voice was moving further away.
He stretched his arm out, desperately trying to grab his camera. It had bounced further down the slope leading to the water's edge, its lens cracked and the black sides scuffed. If he could just reach his camera, he could use the flash to get Arthur's attention.
If the flash still worked…
Tears were now flowing down his cheeks and his teeth chattered with cold.
The tips of his fingers grazed the side of the camera.
….
Arthur swung the beam from his flashlight around the surrounding trees. Dark clouds had blacked out the setting sun, casting the forest in a deep, gray gloom.
Arthur was beginning to panic.
"Merlin!" he shouted for the umpteenth time that minute.
He knew Merlin had headed in this direction; he'd followed his tracks until the rain had washed them away. Arthur tried to think like Merlin, to look at his surrounding to see what might make a good photograph, but all he saw was trees.
Endless trees.
"Merlinnnn!" he screamed, his voice strained.
He drew in a shaky breath, gaze searching the forest around him.
He needed to go back. He needed to contact authorities. They needed to start searching the forest for Merlin.
"Merlin," he whispered, voice breaking. Where was his Merlin?
Casting the light about him one last time, Arthur spun and began hurrying back as fast as the rain slicked ground would permit. He continued to shout for Merlin as he went, his voice growing more and more hoarse.
As he was drawing nearer to the remote cabin site, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, giving the autumn colored forest a sinister glow. Arthur blinked a slight spot from his vision as thunder seemed to shake the ground around him. He stumbled over a tree root, blinking as another flash of lighting lit up ahead.
No. Wait. That as too small for lightning.
Another flash.
Arthur rushed forward, brow furrowed. Was that…?
Flash.
A camera!
"Merlin!" shouted Arthur, his feet slipping and sliding as he sprinted towards the light. "Merlin, I'm coming!"
He skidded around a fallen tree, mouth dropping open in horror even as relief flooded his veins.
Merlin was sprawled down the side of the river bank, his left foot pinned under the tree trunk, his thin frame shaking with violent shivers. His full lips were tinged with blue in the white beam of Arthur's flashlight. He sobbed as he saw Arthur.
His broken camera was clutched tightly in his hands.
"Merlin!" cried Arthur, dropping to his knees beside him. "What happened?"
Merlin set the camera down. Tree fell. Foot trapped, he signed with shaky hands.
Arthur handed Merlin the flashlight before heaving at the tree with all his strength. He felt it lift slightly and gave one more burst of strength. "Pull out your foot," he yelled. "Pull out your foot."
Merlin yanked his foot out seconds before Arthur lost his hold.
Arthur grabbed Merlin's left leg, yanking up the cuff of his jeans. "Can you move your toes?" he asked, looking the ankle over. There was no blood, but a nasty bruise ringed the joint.
Merlin wiggled his foot slightly.
"How much does it hurt?"
A little. I don't think it's broken.
"Were still taking your to the doctor first thing in the morning," said Arthur, stuffing Merlin's camera in the pocket of his hoodie and standing, pulling Merlin up with him. He wrapped an arm firmly around the raven-haired boy's waist as Merlin tentatively put some weight on his left foot. He winced slightly, but it held.
"Let's get you back to the cabin," ordered Arthur, looping Merlin's arm around his shoulder and hurrying them up the river bank. "You're freezing."
Though Arthur himself was thoroughly soaked from the rain, Merlin pressed up against him tightly, greedily trying to absorb what was left of his body heat. Every stumble on the slippery leaves that littered the forest floor jarred Merlin's ankle, prompting another wince. Arthur's nearly laughed with relief as he saw the light of the cabin appear through the trees ahead. He practically dragged Merlin the rest of the way, rushing them into the light and warmth.
He eased Merlin down onto the old, threadbare, hide-a-bed couch, racing to the cupboard and pulling out an arm full of blankets. He dropped them on the other half the couch before crouching to pull off Merlin's boots. He quickly, but gently, stripped Merlin of his rain drenched clothing, even the dark blue scarf from around his neck, revealing the deep scars that marred it. A few bruises and grazes decorated his pale skin, his ankle discolored and a bit swollen, but thankfully he was not seriously injured. Arthur kissed a bruise on his shoulder before bundling him up in a cocoon of blankets.
Merlin's teeth still chattered as he watched Arthur toss a few logs into the fireplace, lighting them with a match and some old newspaper. He wriggled around until he freed his hands from the swaddle of blankets. You'll be sick if you stay in those clothes.
Arthur didn't respond, instead returning to the couch and hoisting Merlin into his arms bridal style. He gently set him down in one of the dining chairs, before quickly converting the couch into the fold-out bed. He fetched Merlin and set him back down on the mattress, grabbing the pillows from the cupboard.
Arthur, your clothes.
"I'm working on it," muttered Arthur, pulling his hoodie and tshirt off in one go. He quickly shed the rest of his clothing and climbed into the bed, feeling the heat of the fire on his feet.
Merlin shifted around, mindful of his left ankle, until he'd unwrapped himself and draped the mound of blankets over Arthur as well. Arthur pulled Merlin's freezing body tight up against his side, forcing himself not to shiver. Merlin practically crawled on top of him in his desperation to warm back up, his head resting on Arthur's shoulder and his ice cold right hand on Arthur's chest.
They simply laid there for a while as Merlin's trembling began to fade and the feeling returned to his limbs. Arthur was actually on the verge of drifting off to sleep, lulled by the sounds of the rain outside and the crackle of the fire, when Merlin tapped his chest lightly to get his attention, before tracing letters across his skin with a delicate finger.
Thank you for saving me, he wrote.
Arthur smiled, resting his cheek against Merlin's damp, dark hair. "Of course. I'm only sorry I didn't head out to search for you earlier."
More letters. I love you.
"I love you too, Merlin."
Merlin lightly drummed his fingers, almost nervously, for a couple minutes before tracing his finger across Arthur's chest again. So, are we not eating?
Arthur lifted his head and glanced down to meet Merlin staring up at him with wide, blue eyes. "What?"
I'm hungry, Merlin signed.
"You expect me to cook now?" asked Arthur, eyebrow raised.
He laughed as Merlin's stomach growled loudly.
Merlin grinned (Arthur pleased to note his lips once again their usual rosey pink) and nodded, mouthing please.
Arthur dropped his head back onto the pillow with a groan. "Yes, sire," he teased, crawling out from under the blankets and heading to the small kitchenette. "You know, sometimes I feel like I'm your servant," he said back over his shoulder.
Merlin only grinned and snuggled deeper into the blankets.
I'd love to hear what you think. Would you like more to this series?