Title: Hælend (Healer)
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Summary: Historical AU, A/M, slash, Caught behind enemy lines, Arthur finds help in a place he would never have expected and struggles to reach the safety of his Roman fort before the Picts find him.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Alternate Universe- Historical, Roman!Arthur, Pict!Merlin, mild gore and violence, betrayal, hurt/comfort, first kiss.
Pairings/Characters: Arthur Pendragon/Merlin, Arthur, Merlin, Gaius, Lancelot
Word Count: ~3k
Author's Note: So, I was watching The Centurion and The Eagle, both really good movies by the way, and I had the really sudden urge to do a Merlin fusion. So here's my attempt. I know Arthur and Merlin are not very Pictish or Romanic names, but just go with it. I'm planning to write two sequels for this, so look for them.
xXx
The roar is deafening. Around him, men scream and yell battle cries, sounds of anger, and sounds of agony. It all mixes into one sound. Chaos is all that is left of their uniform ranks. The enemy has broken through and now his men are scattered, fighting in clusters, flashes of red and bronze seen through the trees.
Arthur turns and barely brings his sword up in time to stop the ax from chopping off his arm. They've been fighting nonstop all morning in a desperate attempt to reach the fort where reinforcements are waiting.
He can see his lieutenant Lancelot not too far away. Turning back to his fighting, Arthur cuts down the man in front of him, ignoring the spray of blood and turns to the next enemy. They are caught in the woods, between the deep gorge and river behind them and the hordes of Picts in front that kept streaming over the hill.
Arthur looks behind him when he feels open air. He's at the edge, a foot from a sudden drop off. If they don't do something soon, they'll be forced over. Turning back, he lets out a grunt as a club lands a lucky blow to his ribs. Pain lancing up his side, he can't bring his sword up fast enough to stop the blow from the dagger in the Pict's hand, the knife sinking into his side.
The Pict pulls the dagger out of him and the force knocks him backward, staggering to the edge. He stands there and it seems that time slows. He can see his men fighting towards him, their yells muffled, but they aren't quick enough.
He starts to fall. His feet give out under him and his last glance is Lancelot's wild eyes as they watch him fall. The rush of water is sudden and forces the air form his lungs in a sudden gush. The world goes dark around him.
It is the crackle of a fire and the sound of someone humming that wakes him. Blinking heavy eyes open, he looks out at a blurry world. He can see the fire close by. Beyond it, someone is standing, dressed in simple clothing. It takes a moment for his eyes to finally focus and he realizes it is a man dressed in homespun clothing with furs wrapped around his legs.
He must have made a sound for the man turns around to look at him. Arthur's heart jolts as he takes in the blue whorl marks on the man's face: a Pict. Arthur tries to jerk away, but his body is weighted down, his limbs feeling like they are filled with lead.
The man steps forward, face looking concerned. He makes a shushing sound at Arthur, trying to look harmless as he holds up his empty hands. "Slæp," he whispers, pressing a cool hand to Arthur's fevered brow. Arthur tries to fight it, but exhaustion pulls him under.
It must be some time later when he awakens again. The light is different, the room he is in darker. His rescuer is nowhere to be seen. Outside, he can hear the sound of animals. Pushing the blankets back, Arthur starts to sit up and is brought up short when pain wrings a gasp from his throat.
Looking down he can see the bandages wrapped around his torso, his blood darkening them above the wound. Lying back down, he stares up at the ceiling. It is littered with clumps of plants and such. He turns to look at the door as he hears footsteps approaching.
The Pict comes back in carrying a wooden bucket and some more plants. He looks over and sees Arthur awake. "Oh," he says softly and nods. Rummaging around on a table, he pulls out a wooden bowl and dips it into the bucket. He brings it over to Arthur.
When he tries to get Arthur to drink whatever it is, Arthur turns his head away. The man sighs in exasperation when Arthur does it a second time. "Goat milk, not harmful. See," he says as if speaking to a child and takes a sip from it.
"You speak my language?" Arthur says, staring at the man. Now that he is closer, Arthur sees he is barely into adulthood, his face almost boyish, but his eyes, his eyes speak of an old soul who has seen too much.
"Yes. Your people's priests used to come through here. I learned from them," he says. "Will you drink? You really need to have something to get your strength back up."
Arthur stares at him for a few seconds before nodding. The liquid is soothing on his dry throat and before he knows it, he's drunk the whole bowl. "I'll bring some water now," he says and stands. Dipping the bowl into another bucket, he brings back the water. Arthur drinks that as well.
He places a hand on Arthur's head, frowning. "You should sleep some more. You still have a fever from the infection," he says nodding to Arthur's side. Exhaustion hits Arthur like a wave and he blinks a few times, keeping the Pict in focus.
"What's your name?" Arthur asks, fighting sleep.
The man looks surprised, looking down at Arthur. "Merlin," he finally answers.
"Arthur," Arthur says and lets sleep take him. For a second, it sounds like Merlin says "Sleep well, Arthur," but he's asleep before he can think on it.
It takes Arthur two days to recover enough to stay awake for more than a few minutes. Through it all, Merlin remains a cheerful presence. Arthur spends more time than he ought to staring at the Pict and trying to figure out the puzzle that he is.
Finally, on the second day, he asks, "Why haven't you tried to kill me yet?"
Merlin blinks owlishly at him, "Why would I kill someone I just helped get better?"
"Well, you're a Pict and I'm a Roman. The last Pict I encountered gave me this," Arthur says, pointing down to his side.
Merlin looks away, a frown on his face. "I am not welcome amongst my people, as of the moment," Merlin says softly.
"Why?" Arthur asks.
"I refused to fight," Merlin says simply. "I am a healer, not a killer. They did not like that, so they banished me here, to live out my life alone." Merlin turns away to mess with the small pot on the fire, back a tense line. "Here, eat," he says thrusting a bowl of stew into Arthur's hands.
Before Arthur can say anything, Merlin is gone, leaving the small hut that is his home. Arthur stares after him, but the Pict doesn't come back in. It is dark by the time Merlin returns and Arthur doesn't bring up the subject again.
The next day, Merlin helps Arthur to his feet, and with many stops and leaning on Merlin's thin shoulders, they make it to a nearby stream to let Arthur bath. Arthur strips off his clothing without a care for modesty. Beside him, Merlin flushes and glances away and Arthur shrugs.
Merlin slowly slips out of his clothing as well, and with his help, Arthur is soon immersed in the cold water. His teeth chatter with the cold, but it feels good to be clean for once. Arthur grits his teeth as Merlin slowly works the bandages off, allowing the water to clean it.
Helping Arthur out of the water, Merlin wraps him in a blanket and plants him in a sunny spot to dry off. Grabbing the clothing that Arthur has been wearing since he woke up in Merlin's hut, the man wades back into the water. Sitting in the water up to his waist, Merlin sets about scrubbing as much of the blood out of the clothing as he can.
Arthur can only stare at Merlin, his skin pale and bright amongst the shadows of the trees. The inked lines are a mystery to Arthur, but they are fascinating to look at. Merlin seems to feel his gaze and when he looks up, his eyes meet Arthur. Flushing, Merlin looks away.
"Will you quite staring at me?" Merlin finally says.
"Shy?" Arthur asks and can't help but smirk a little.
"No, but I don't like people staring at me," Merlin grouches. Standing, he walks back to where Arthur is sitting, hanging the clothing over branches for the sun to dry. He lies down in the grass next to Arthur and shuts his eyes, head propped up on his folded arms.
Arthur takes in the long stretch of pale flesh, a light dusting of black hair on his chest as it flows down into a line that leads to his limp cock, nestled amongst black curls. The flowing inked lines continue onto his front. On his chest, over his heart, a dragon is inked into his skin, eyes glowering at the world and mouth opened in a hiss.
"What does this mean?" Arthur asks, touching the image softly. He feels Merlin shudder under his fingers.
"It is my family symbol: Emrys," Merlin says softly, opening his eyes to look up at Arthur.
"Mine is as well," Arthur says. When Merlin cocks a confused eyebrow at him, he continues, "A dragon. My family crest is a dragon: Pendragon, son of the dragon."
"Oh," Merlin says. He shuts his eyes and Arthur decides to follow suit, lying back into the grass, the sun warm on his face.
Soon though, Arthur is healed enough to travel. It weighs heavily on Arthur's mind, the fact that he has enjoyed Merlin's company and that he'll miss the Pict. Merlin is silent the last day of Arthur's stay. The go to sleep early that night. Arthur spends most of it staring at Merlin's back, watching him breathe deeply with sleep.
Dawn eventually comes and Merlin helps Arthur dress, handing him his armor and fumbling with the buckles. It feels odd to be back in armor after so long out of it. Shrugging his shoulders to settle his armor, Arthur looks at Merlin. "Thank you, for everything," he says softly.
Merlin smiles at him, "You're welcome." They stare at each other for a drawn out moment before Arthur looks away. They leave the hut and walk into the woods.
Merlin takes him through an area of forest dense with trees and underbrush. "Will they find us here?" Arthur asks, following Merlin down a barely there animal track.
Merlin shakes his head. "Few venture in here. It's one reason I chose these woods. They believe they are curse, haunted by wolf spirits that will hunt them at night. Only the most daring come here."
"Are there?" Merlin looks back, question clear. "Wolf spirits?" Arthur clarifies.
Merlin shrugs. "If there are, they've not bothered me. I haven't seen any either, but let's not push are luck," Merlin says with a slight grin.
They camp that night in a small hollow in the hillside. Passing a waterskin between them, they much on the dried venison Merlin had brought for the journey. In the distance, a howl sounds out to be echoed by others. They glance at each other and smile a little.
It takes two days to escape the forest and reach the area where Arthur went down. They're up stream of the gorge he fell into. The river is deep and fast, but eventually, they find a shallow enough place to ford. It takes another half day to finally reach the cleared out field that Arthur's fort is built in.
Arthur knows that the moment they step from under the trees, they will be spotted, but he's worried about Merlin. Arthur knows that Merlin is a threat, but will his men? Merlin sees his worried look and just shrugs.
Sighing, Arthur nods and allows Merlin to drag his arm over his shoulders. Together they step out from under the trees into the afternoon sunlight. It takes about ten minutes to cross the field and by then, Arthur can see his men swarming along the stop of the fort. He can also see archers with their bows trained on them.
The gates open and his men come riding out. Lancelot leads them. With their escort, they enter the fort proper. The moment they are in, one of his men comes forward and pulls Arthur away from Merlin. Two more take Arthur's place, swords trained on the Pict.
"Enough!" Arthur yells out over the raised voices. Everyone stops and turns to look at him. Pushing the man holding him away, Arthur walks over to Merlin. "Merlin is not an enemy and will not be treated as one. He is my guest and the man who saved me," he says slowly, but clearly so that each man hears.
They eye Merlin for a moment, but eventually, the swords are lowered. Lancelot comes up to him and pulls Arthur into a hug, clapping him on the back. "We thought we'd lost you. We couldn't even find your body for a proper burial. It's good to see you, Arthur," he says pulling back.
"Same here, Lance. Is Gaius around, I want him to look me over?" Arthur asks and Lancelot nods. "Merlin, come," Arthur says and slowly, Merlin walks over to glare up at the roman while his men chuckle.
"I am not some animal you can call, Arthur," Merlin says, loud enough to be heard by those still around them.
They grow silent when they realize that he can speak their language. "Just follow me, idiot. There's someone I want you to meet," Arthur says, grabbing Merlin by the shoulder and leading him away while subtly leaning on Merlin for support.
The "someone" is an aging man, his hair white and receding with lines creasing his face. Pale blue eyes don't even look fazed when they look at Merlin. "Merlin, this is Gaius, our fort's physician and surgeon." Gaius nods his head. "Gaius, this is Merlin Emrys, the one who found and cared for me until I could make my way back here."
"It appears you are in need of thanks, then. We would have lost a fine leader, if it wasn't for you," Gaius says with a small smile. He turns to look at Arthur while Merlin flushes and looks down, muttering something that they can't here. "Now you appear to need to sit down and I'll have a look at you."
Arthur nods and sits down gingerly, grimacing at the pain from his side. Lancelot steps forward to help Arthur remove his armor. Setting it aside, it's quick work to remove the tunic from Arthur to show the bandages wrapped around Arthur's torso.
Gaius works quickly, but gently, removing the bandages to see the wound underneath. He tuts at the blood seeping out of the wound. "You over did yourself, as usual. Was there infection?" Gaius asks, looking at Merlin.
Merlin nods, "Yes. He had a fever for a couple of days, but it broke. I kept it as clean as I could and put poultices on it to draw out the infection."
"Hmm," he goes back to prodding at the torn flesh. "You did a good job. I don't think I could have done any better. You should heal up just fine Arthur and so long as you rest and infection doesn't set in again, you live." Gaius quickly slathers a salve over the wound, making Arthur hiss and then quickly bandages it with a deftness that comes with much practice.
Grinning sheepishly, Arthur thanks Gaius and with the help of Lancelot, stands again. Pulling on his tunic, Arthur walks slowly out of the building.
Merlin sticks close to Arthur as he goes about inspecting the fort, though he avoids the wall since Gaius would frown at him if he even tried the stairs. He's not sure he could make it back down if he tried, not without help.
Eventually though, he finishes and retires to his room, Merlin behind him. Food is already waiting for him with two plates. Motioning for Merlin to sit down, Arthur sits opposite from him. "What do you think?" Arthur asks after swallowing a bite of chicken.
"It's big," Merlin says with a shrug, "And well-defended. You have loyal men."
"I do want to thank you again, Merlin. Without you, I would have been dead for sure. If there is anything, anything at all that I can do for you, just ask and I will," Arthur says solemnly, looking at Merlin.
"I did not do this for a reward," Merlin says softly.
"I know that, but if there is ever a time, don't hesitate to ask," Arthur says and turns back to his food.
"I'm leaving tomorrow morning," Merlin tells him softly.
Arthur sets his goblet down slowly, swallowing loudly, "Oh."
"It's just, I have a home and I should get back there. I'd only meant to help you here, not stay. I'm surprised I even stay today," Merlin says softly, not looking up from where he is fidgeting with his plate.
"Well, if that is what you want, I won't stop you. You are not a prisoner," Arthur says lamely, staring at Merlin's head, but the Pict still refused to look up. The rest of the meal is finished in tense silence.
Arthur shows Merlin to the spare bed. Arthur sleep fitfully, his side aching. Waking in the morning, he finds the bed made and Merlin gone, not even a trace of the Pict remaining.
"What's the matter Arthur? You seem distant," Lance says, coming up beside him. It's been four days since Merlin's left. Arthur has healed enough to be allowed by Gaius on light duty. At the moment, he is currently on sentry duty, staring out across the field to the forest.
"It's…nothing. Just have a lot on my mind," Arthur hedges.
"You miss him, don't you?" Lance asks, following Arthur gaze.
"I guess," Arthur says, turning to look at his lieutenant.
Lancelot doesn't turn to look at Arthur. His gaze is locked on the tree line. "Arthur," he says softly and Arthur jerks back around to look. For a second, all he can see is shadows, but slowly, he can make out movement. Something is coming.
They stand there, watching. Someone bursts from the trees, closely followed by others on horseback. It takes Arthur a second to recognize Merlin running towards them. "Get the men, he needs help," Arthur barks the order out.
He can only watch as the Picts chasing Merlin slowly gain on him. He draws up short as they circle him. Arthur can hear his men assembling, the main gate opening to let them through. He sees Merlin look pass the horses to the opening gate.
Merlin makes a break for it and the other Picts allow it. Merlin gets half way to the gate before one of the Picts draws a bow. Arthur can only watch in horror as the arrow flies true and embeds itself in Merlin's back, the healer falling with a cry that Arthur can here from the wall.
Seeing the men pouring out of the fort, the Picts give a yell and wheel their mounts to ride back into the forest. Racing from the wall, Arthur waits anxiously as his men carry Merlin back into the fort. "Get Gaius," Arthur roars as his men draw closer, Merlin limp over the back of a horse. "Merlin!" Arthur yells, running up to the horse and helping them lower Merlin to the ground.
Gaius is waiting for them when they bring Merlin into the room. It is easy work to cut Merlin thin woolen shirt off around the arrow. Gaius presses an ear to Merlin chest, listening. "It hasn't punctured a lung. We need to force it through. You two will have to hold him down," Gaius instructs.
Taking a knife, Gaius cuts the end off of the arrow, throwing it to the side. Merlin screams, arching off the table under their hands as Gaius forces the arrow through the rest of his shoulder. He passes out as Gaius pulls it the rest of the way through. The arrow clatters to the ground at Gaius's feet.
It is quick work afterwards; Gaius washes out the wound and bathes it in salve before bandaging Merlin's shoulder. A strip of leather is tied around his arm and torso to keep the arm immobile while the shoulder heals.
Merlin is so pale that his tattoos are like blue slashes across his skin. "Will he be all right?" Arthur asks Gaius as two men carry Merlin to the bed he had taken four days before.
"He's young and strong, Arthur. He'll pull through," Gaius reassures him. Sighing, Arthur slumps into a convenient chair, watching Merlin sleep.
Arthur isn't sure how much time has passed, but he must have dozed off. He wakes to a soft voice calling his name. Jerking upright, Arthur looks over to where Merlin is laying. The Pict looks older than he had before, his eyes filled with sadness.
"Merlin," Arthur breathes out and pulls the chair closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?" Arthur asks.
"I'll heal," Merlin bites out.
"What…what happened?" Arthur asks softly.
"They were watching. They have sentries watching the fort. They saw us. It's…" Merlin swallows, "It's all gone. They burned down my home, Arthur. They were waiting for me, but I smelled the smoke. I was able to get close enough to see and flee, but they must have seen me."
Merlin takes a breath before continuing, "They let me get ahead, wanted to make an example of me. To show what happens to those who help the enemy."
"I'm sorry," Arthur says while lying a hand on Merlin unbound arm.
"It's not your fault, Arthur. I chose to help you," Merlin mumbles, looking up at him with tired eyes.
"Sleep, we'll talk more later," Arthur says. Bending down, he presses a kiss to Merlin's forehead. The healer is out cold, breathe easy as he sleeps.
Merlin is awake when Arthur comes again the next day. Arthur helps him sit up and hands Merlin a bowl of broth. "Why do I feel like this has happened before?" Merlin says softly with a small smile.
Arthur grins, helping Merlin eat one handed. When he finishes, Arthur sets the bowl aside. "What now?" he asks softly, looking at Merlin.
Merlin shrugs, "I've got no home now. I can't go back there. I don't know what to do?"
"You could stay here," Arthur says casually.
"What?" Merlin says, looking at Arthur in surprise.
Arthur nods. "You're a good healer, Merlin. I'm sure Gaius wouldn't mind teaching you. There's so much more you could learn. And, well, I wouldn't mind having you here. It would certainly be a change," Arthur says, looking away with a slight flush to his cheeks.
"Really?" Merlin asks.
Arthur looks back at him, "Really."
Merlin grins and pats the bed beside him. Arching a brow, Arthur complies, settling onto the bed beside Merlin. Leaning forward, Merlin presses a kiss to his lips, still smiling. "Then maybe I'll stay," he says softly.
End