TITLE: Dust in the Wind
AUTHOR: Inukshuk
SPOILERS: None
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Merlin" are the creations and property of Others, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
FEEDBACK: yes please … writers need food. Suggestions, comments constructive criticism always welcome.
Chapter 1 – The First Mark
Merlin rushed to finish the last two stitches and accidentally jabbed himself. His complaint was silenced as he stuck the finger in his mouth and tasted blood.
Arthur stood by his bed, naked to the waist. Arthur held out his arms at the side, readying himself. His spine was straight and the vertebrae protruded in even undulations beneath the skin. He waited without satisfaction and glanced back over his shoulder at Merlin.
"Am I going to wait all day?"
"No. Be right there." Merlin shook his hand, shaking his hand with vigour to take the sting off the needle prick. In a quick bite, he chewed off the end of the thread. Turning the garment right side out, he hurried over. Arthur's body was symmetric and in the morning light, sun shone on the flesh giving it a warm, golden glow.
It was then that Merlin noticed the mark. A scab had appeared on Arthur's shoulder – about the circumference of a pea. It was fresh; newly formed – with little blood, but deep and surrounded by redness. He paused to inspect it.
"Merlin?" Arthur emphasised his outstretched arms. "You are not measuring me for a crucifix, are you?"
"No. No." Merlin came closer still, fascinated and reached up, not touching him but studying the lesion carefully. "Did you get an arrow in the shoulder?"
"No."
"A bad hit during practice, then? Maybe a sword gone astray?"
"No. Why?"
"You have a wound here. Does it hurt?"
"I don't know." Arthur gripped his shoulder with his opposite hand and tried to look. As he contorted, the delineation of his muscles flexed and flowed. "Where?"
"Right here." Merlin said. "Hold still. There. Does that – ?"
"Ouch!"
"Hmm." Merlin decided. "I guess it does."
"What does it look like?" Arthur resumed his attempts to peer backwards. His eyes fell tight into corners and he drew down his chin while trying to pull his shoulder up.
"It looks sore."
"I meant …" Arthur clarified without humour, "How big is it?"
"About this big." Merlin measured the tip of his little finger with his thumb to approximate the size. Leaving Arthur to attempt to move eyes to the back of his head, he started a search about the room. From the floor, he picked up a cotton night shirt and inspected it. There was a small stain – not blood – but rose-stained fluid that approximated where the wound was on Arthur's back.
"Here." He held it out for Arthur. "Did you wear this last night?"
"Yes." Arthur took the shirt and gave it his own thorough examination. "I don't recall waking up." It was a confession that started a frown. Then the pair moved to his bed and tore back the sheets. The rose-stain appeared a little ways below his pillow and again matching where his shoulder would have rested during the night.
"Do you have mice?" Merlin started to widen the search.
"I had better not have, Merlin. It's you who cleans my room."
"Hmm." He ignored the comment and descended into his own thoughts. What would leave such a mark? He put his hands to his hips and scanned the room looking for the presence of something unusual or the absence of something normally there. Nothing struck him. He pulled away the bedside table to see behind. Stooping, he removed a plate and a slice of half-eaten bread.
"Honestly." Merlin said. "D'you live in a barn?"
"No." The blond bangs hid the deepening furrow in his brow. "What else is back there?"
Merlin dove again and removed a fork and, then reaching under the bed to the full of his body length, used his fingers to coax out a small book.
"I was looking for that." Arthur mused, flipping through the pages in recognition.
"There's nothing else down here." Merlin said to air. Arthur had moved to the armoire and had both doors open. He was of a mind to discover the cause of the welt. He flung clothing back in a way haphazard enough that had Merlin trying to catch the items and maintain some order.
"Nothing here." Arthur – still undressed – put his hips to his waist and studied the room for other places to look. The flesh was lean, powerful and – most alarmingly – still naked. Merlin watched his friend's chest expand and contract with a sudden sigh.
Naked.
The word roused an idea deep in Merlin's brain. There was something … Merlin thought. Not dressed. They had become distracted from the morning's hurry. Then it hit him. Not ready!
"Oh! Arthur – " Merlin bolted forward for the tunic. "You must get to court." He began rushing the clothing onto the prince, holding out first one armhole and then the other. "Your father is going to have you in the stocks if you are late."