A/N: This AU just hit me one day and it would NOT leave me alone (it's one of the few ideas I've ever had that could convince me to write a multi-chapter fic set during Uther's reign lol). I hope y'all enjoy it too!
"You really are a clotpole, Merlin, you know that?"
Arthur rode just ahead of the servant, his hands clenched tightly around his horse's reins. Their horses should have been loaded with the results of a day of hunting – hunting he had accomplished by a sheer miracle, given how many times Merlin scared off the prey – but no. They'd stopped at a tavern, where Merlin had blundered straight into the path of a very large, very angry man with lots of equally large, angry friends, and only Arthur trading over the entirety of their catch had kept him from being beaten to a pulp.
"I said I'm sorry."
"Sorry enough to spend an entire week hunting?"
He turned back at Merlin's desperate spluttering, grinning for the first time in two hours at the horror on Merlin's face. Arthur had no intention of following through on the comment – even he would get bored after a few solid days of it, even if it did come with Merlin falling flat on his face and making a complete fool of himself more than a few times – but he could get some enjoyment out of the bluff yet.
Or, he would have gotten more enjoyment out of the bluff, had he not heard the familiar twang of a crossbow firing. "Get dow-"
The arrow sank into Merlin's gut with a heavy thud. Time all but froze for a moment, Merlin's eyes widening as he looked down at the wound, touching it gingerly with fingers that came away glistening with fresh blood. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell from his saddle, time slamming back to normal speed as his limp body hit the ground.
"Merlin!" Arthur cried, leaping off his own horse.
He'd hardly taken a step when bandits surged out of the trees, charging at him with a roar of battle cries. They easily outnumbered him ten to one, but with Merlin unconscious on the ground, running wasn't an option. He grabbed his crossbow off Merlin's horse instead, sticking a bolt in and shooting it into the hoard as fast as possible. One man went down and Arthur reloaded, managing to take out another two before the first man was upon him.
He dropped the crossbow and grabbed his sword just in the nick of time to block the first blow. The man delivering it was large and heavily muscled, and even successfully blocked, the strength of his blow made Arthur stumble back two costly steps, nearly stepping on Merlin's arm. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, shoving the man's sword away. In the split second he was unbalanced, Arthur killed him.
He had no reprieve before two more were on him. He sidestepped one blow, ducked beneath the second, and killed the nearest man. He kicked the second in the side of the knee, knocked his sword from his hand, and grabbed his arm and swung him around to take the stab aimed at Arthur's gut from a third man.
"Art-arthur-"
Arthur glanced back at the sound of Merlin's weak voice, horrified to spot more bandits running at them from the servant's other side. Merlin had one hand pressed down around the arrow still embedded in his stomach, the other raised as if that would do anything, shaking but ready to go down fighting.
As if Arthur would let that happen; knight or servant, he left no man behind. He shoved back the dead man he was still holding, knocking two of his buddies down with him, and grabbed Merlin's raised hand to drag him backwards. He groaned in agony at the unexpected movement, but Arthur ignored him, pulling him into the meager shelter of a pile of boulders. He planted himself between Merlin and the bandits and lifted his sword, ready to fight to the death.
He never had to.
Each and every bandit lurched to a halt, frozen in place. Then, as if yanked by an invisible hand, they flew backwards. Those who weren't knocked unconscious by the fall scrambled to their feet and fled.
"Who's there?" Arthur called, clutching his sword tighter. He'd almost rather be facing the bandits. They were normal men, and normal men he could fight, but a sorcerer who had just defeated them all with one blow? That would be… a challenge, to say the least.
The person that emerged from the tree was an old woman, wavy white hair tucked beneath the hood of a worn black cloak. She raised her hands. "I mean you no harm."
"You are a sorceress. Your ways are forbidden here."
Slowly, she moved her hands to pull down her hood, offering a grandmotherly smile. "And yet, I saved your life. Surely that earns me some mercy?"
Arthur shifted, glancing at the bodies across the trail. "My father says-"
"Surely your father need not knowing everything?" she coaxed. "Such as how Camelot's soleheir risked his life to save a simple servant?"
Arthur glared. "How do you know who I am?"
She tapped her head. "I have my ways, young prince. Now, what is your answer as to whether I should be shown mercy on behalf of my deeds?"
Arthur hesitated, glancing around. Skilled as he was, he had been severely outnumbered – without interference, he would've died fighting, or been forced to leave Merlin behind, and either way, his servant would be dead. She also had yet to show the slightest hint of aggression towards Arthur and Merlin. And with his own life no longer at risk, his next priority was getting Merlin back to Camelot as fast as possible.
So he lowered his sword, kneeling down beside Merlin. "I will grant you clemency this time. If I see you within Camelot's borders again, however, I make no guarantees."
He turned his attention to Merlin to allow her to slip away without giving away where she may be headed. Blood stained Merlin's shirt and his face had gone deathly pale. His eyelids flickered as he struggled to stay awake, the light in his eyes fading all too quickly for Arthur's liking. Arthur patted his cheek brusquely, and he winced away with a weak groan, but at least he looked slightly more awake.
"I can heal him."
Arthur jumped, looking up sharply to the sorceress standing only a few feet away. "I thought I told you to leave."
"You granted me clemency, sire, and in return I wish only to help. I have seen such a wound before – he will not survive the trip back to Camelot, no matter how fast you ride."
Arthur's heart seized at the words, making his hand slip down from Merlin's cheek to grip a fistful of his jacket. "But you mean to heal him with magic."
The sorceress nodded. "It is all that will save him now."
When Arthur still hesitated, she pressed on gently. "Magic is not the evil thing you have been raised to believe it is, Arthur Pendragon. It saved your life just now, did it not? And now it offers your friend there a chance at surviving this ambush."
"I won't know what you're doing. You could kill him instead."
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a beautiful bracelet, one made of silver with an intricate gold design on it. "This is a healing bracelet. I need only place a simple enchantment on it and place it on his wrist. There will be no trickery to the spell, I assure you."
Arthur felt the war within him. The war between everything he had been raised to believe, every law he vowed to uphold, and the fear he felt that Merlin would die. But if it was his beliefs that held him back, should he truly let them? It had been his belief once that he could never see a mere servant as his equal, and yet over the last nearly two years, he had fallen in love with one, and another had become his closest friend, and both were people he had disobeyed his father and risked his life to protect. If his belief that servants were unworthy of attention had been so badly wrong, could it be that not everything his father taught him was right?
He swallowed down his confusion, looking to Merlin. "It's your decision. I won't punish you or her if you agree."
Merlin blinked once, slowly, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Then he nodded, so Arthur turned back to the sorceress. "Do it."
She nodded, crouching stiffly on Merlin's other side. With a wrinkled hand, she picked up Merlin's hand, his limp fingers leaving thin trails of blood across her wrist. But then she stopped. "First, I wish to make a deal."
Arthur stiffened, stretching a protective hand over Merlin's chest. "What sort of deal?"
"Nothing harmful," the sorceress said.
"Can it not wait? He's dying," Arthur pushed, feeling Merlin's weak heartbeat beneath his palm. His breaths came in shallow pants now.
"I want assurance that you will not flee before you can choose to agree."
"Fine," Arthur ground out. "What do you propose?"
"A meeting," she said, "in two days' time. I will send a proxy to the castle later to discuss where. Once you have arrived, I will issue a challenge. You must accept it, no matter the cost. And," she tipped her head at Merlin, "you must bring him."
"What is the nature of this challenge?" Arthur asked warily.
"That is for me to decide and you to find out," she said sharply.
"I cannot walk blindly into such a task!"
"And yet, if you do not, your servant will die. Will you give me your word that you will come?"
"Arthur, no," Merlin protested.
But that was exactly what sealed the deal. Merlin's voice was so weak, barely audible even though Arthur crouched beside him, and while his endless chatter could be endlessly irritating, the few times Arthur had been left without it had become disconcerting at best. "I give you my word."
Merlin struggled, but even the old woman could hold his arm still now. She murmured an enchantment over the bracelet, and Arthur wavered as her eyes flared that sinister gold, but one glance at Merlin's blood smeared across her wrist stopped him from backing out. "Pull the arrow out."
Arthur braced one hand around the arrow and gripped it in his other fist. "Sorry, Merlin." He yanked, making Merlin arch his back in agony. The moment the arrow was clear, the sorceress slipped the bracelet on and he fell limp, panting heavily. Arthur leaned forward, peeling back his shirt, and nearly slumped in relief at the sight of the wound knitting itself back together. "It's work- Merlin?"
The servant's eyes rolled back into his head as he promptly passed out. "Merlin!"
"It's all right," the sorceress said, setting Merlin's hand down gently. "Magically healing such a wound takes a toll on the body. He will sleep for a while."
Arthur hovered his hand over Merlin's mouth, checking that he still breathed. "But he'll live?"
"He will live. I would bet my own life on it."
Arthur cast a threatening glare at her. "You may have to, if he dies before I can meet you for your challenge."
She smiled, using the boulder beside her to pull herself up. "Do remember to bring him when you come – I will wish to check on my handiwork."
She began to leave. "Wait," Arthur called after her.
"Hm?"
"Why would you help us? Why would you help me?"
"I knew your mother," she answered simply.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "You- you knew my mother? When? How? What-"
"All in due time, young Pendragon. All in due time."
She turned then, and it seemed as if she just disappeared into the shadows. Arthur half-rose, calling after her, but Merlin's vulnerability kept him rooted in place, unable to chase after the answers he had sought his entire life.
Two days, Arthur told himself. I can ask her in two days.
"For now," he said aloud, forcing himself to focus on the present, "let's get you back to Gaius."