So, for whatever reason, I decided to post another Merlin FanFiction other than "Arthur." This one actually is medieval, though, which makes me really excited because I just love medieval fantasy!
Sorry.
This fanfic takes place sometime during Season 2. Remember that episode, "Lancelot and Guinevere?" Well, this takes place instead of that. Anything that occurs prior to that episode will still be canon to this story, but as for that episode and on...heheheh...ugh.
The title is a play on "The Prince and the Pauper." 'Nough said.
Rated T for torture.
Now let's see if I can keep a steady updating schedule with this...
A soundtrack to listen to while reading
-"Arthur's Final Battle" by Rob Lane (Merlin; Haha, see, I finally took time to find the composer)
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. If I did, Merlin would have revealed his magic a lot sooner in the show.
Let's Go On An Adventure
The Prat and the Pauper
The Troubles of Hunting
Their problems always started the exact same way: with a hunt. Merlin did protest a couple of days ago when the hunt started. He of course tried to convince Arthur that it was a bad idea. He had one of his so-called "funny feelings," and, while he was loathe to admit it, Merlin knew that he had at least partially concerned the prince. Not that it changed anything. He still was adamant about this hunt, and Merlin still had to come along.
"Why do you always make me come along for your senseless slaughtering of harmless animals?" Merlin complained for the umpteenth time since the hunting trip began two days ago. He groaned and had to fight the urge to throw something at the prat.
Arthur rolled his eyes at his troublesome manservant "for not understanding." "It's not 'senseless,' Merlin. It's called hunting. And besides, you are my servant. Someone is supposed to carry back the prizes. You're supposed to come along... even though your tracking skills are horrendous."
Merlin scowled at Arthur. Why did he have to be a prat sometimes? I swear, it has to be somewhere in the job description of a prince or something. "Hey, I can be a decent tracker when I want to be. Like when you land your royal ass in danger. If I had a gold coin for every time I've saved your life, I'd be richer than your father." Merlin knew that he was exaggerating slightly, but just slightly.
Arthur playful punched his shoulder. "Don't be such an idiot, Mer-" He stared back behind them, as if sensing a disturbance.
Merlin, oblivious, argued, "Look, I am sm-"
"Merlin," Arthur whispered warningly, "shut up."
"You can't control my mouth, Sire." Merlin, however, was not oblivious to how strained Arthur's voice became, and he too started to become a little wary.
"No, really. Just be quiet." Arthur's order sounded desperate.
"Oh. Now what-"
Arthur did not answer. Unsheathing his sword, the blond prince crept up to the bushes. He was trained to kill since birth, more than what Merlin could claim for himself. Aloud, anyway. If anyone could defend them from bandits, it would be Arthur... with the help of Merlin's magic. However, since his gift had to remain secret, he could not take any credit.
Then there was a loud (and rather pointless) battle-cry. One of the pirates of the forest ran out of the trees, brandishing a wicked-looking cutlass. He was quickly followed by the rest of his cronies, each wielding a long dagger or a broadsword or some other weapon, each with the intent to maim Prince Arthur.
Merlin squealed when a throwing knife was thrown his way. His eyes flashed gold, and the knife slowed to a stop before gravity took its toll on the blade. Merlin then picked it up, and with the help of magic again, he sent it back in the direction it came. It lodged itself in the skull of the bandit who threw it.
It was then when the warlock decided it would be better to continue his line of work by a tree.
Arthur, on the other hand, had few qualms fighting these men. True, the battle would have been so much easier if he had back up, but he was doing fairly well for a lone fighter. He did not need Merlin, who was probably hiding behind a tree for dear life. The girl.
He clashed his sword against the deadly cutlass of the bandit. The metal-on-metal created a high-pitched scraping noise. Arthur twisted the blade out of his opponent's hand. If this had been an honorable fight, he would have considered mercy. However, as it was twenty-to-one (twenty-to-two if you counted the ever-useless Merlin), he could not risk survivors.
As quickly as the first mini-duel ended, another started. A broad-shouldered brute with a mess of tar-colored hair charged at Arthur, recklessly swinging his rapier. Arthur personally was half-surprised, half-amused that he did not lop off the head of one of his comrades. It might have been because of the length of the blade, or it might have been just pure luck.
He brandished his sword to take on the bandit. Arthur's mind chose to ignore that this was a human being, possibly with a wife and family. There were people out there who loved him. But to Arthur, he was the enemy. He chose this life of purging, and he must die.
The criminal sliced clean through the air. Arthur's eyes widened, but he managed to have enough time to parry the blow. He kicked the outlaw's right knee in. The bandit cried out and stumbled backward, giving Arthur an opening. The prince stabbed the man in the stomach. As the marauder collapsed, Arthur removed the blade, deemed him as good as dead, and for good measure, slit the enemy's throat.
Already two others were upon him. However, to Arthur's luck, a hefty branch from the elm tree snapped and dropped on top of them. Incredible enough, this blow was enough to snap the necks of the raiders. To Arthur, this was a rather embarrassing way to die. Who would want to die by a tree?
It was remarkable that the branch chose that moment to break. Arthur wanted to know why. It was a nice day with no heavy winds. As far as he knew, no one had touched the tree. It might have just been the branch's time.
Arthur quickly shoved the thought to the back of his mind as another villain came within range. He refocused on the fight and concentrated on not dying. He plunged the blade through the man's heart and stepped away.
Arthur was a little taken aback that they weren't all coming at him at once. He was not complaining, but it was suspicious that they were not all jumping at the chance to kill the prince of Camelot at once. He can dwell on that later. For now, he had worse things to think about.
This time, the crook wielded a mace. Arthur dryly smiled as he was reminded of how terrible Merlin's mace skills were when they first met. Seeing the weapon reminded him of this every time. Despite that, circumstances were different, and Arthur could not afford to simply spare the enemy. He ducked underneath the spiked ball. Then the mace slowed. Disconcerted, the bandit stared at the weapon. As much as it hurt Arthur's honor, he took his chance and stuck him in the side. There was no way that he would recover from a wound like that.
Where did Merlin run off to? Arthur should not be worrying over the servant boy, (What would father say?) but he was. Of course he was. Arthur was to be king someday, and Merlin will technically be one of his subjects.
He risked a glance backward to find Merlin with his hand half-extended outward. The servant flushed and ducked even further behind the tree to get out of the line of the battle. Arthur did not blame him. Merlin had no skill when it came to a blade. Same with an axe, a knife, a mace, a crossbow, a bow and arrow, a scythe, just about anything. Actually, Arthur took that back. Merlin could decently throw a knife, and he might be able to use a pitchfork. How the boy managed to survive all this time without Arthur amazed him.
Smirking, Arthur turned back around to the next challenger with his hands raised, beckoning. "Well, come on then."
Eventually, the fight ended. There were corpses littered everywhere. Arthur self-consciously dodged dismembered limbs until he made it to Merlin's hiding place. He put away his sword and reached out for the raven-haired boy with one hand. With the other, he wiped the sweat off his brow. "See, Merlin. There was nothing to be scared of."
Merlin countered, "I was not scared." He grabbed his right wrist nervously, leading Arthur to not believe him.
"Then why were you hiding by that tree?" Arthur crossed his arms victoriously.
Merlin blushed from embarrassment. "I was not hiding. I was watching your back, as usual."
Arthur raised his hands in mock-defeat. "Right Merlin. Believe what you want to believe."
Merlin stuck out his tongue childishly, but it was painfully obvious that he was no longer angry. "Clotpole."
Arthur grinned. "Idiot."
"Prat."
Arthur's mouth moved to form his comeback, but then he saw him. There was an archer hidden in the woods, notching an arrow into his crossbow. He was not aiming for Arthur, however; he was aiming straight for Merlin.
Fear overtook the prince as he gaped at the survivor. "Merlin!"
Merlin started to turn around. "Wha-"
But he was too slow, and Arthur knew it. As the arrow was released, Arthur did the first thing he could think of. He leapt forward, shoving his servant to the ground. The arrow pierced through his chainmail and embedded itself in his right shoulder. "Agh!"
Arthur started to feel dizzy. This was no ordinary arrow. He toppled over on top of poor, flustered Merlin. Stars started to cloud up his vision as Arthur lost consciousness. No. Must... Stay... Awake. For Merlin. Staaaayyyy awaaaaakkkee.
Then darkness overcame Prince Arthur, and he saw no more.
"Arthur!" Merlin pushed him off. "Arthur!" But he was unconscious. Whatever was on that arrow tip, it was fast-acting, and it filled Merlin with dread, especially knowing that it could have been lying there on the forest floor. But Arthur saved him.
The archer in the trees stumbled, trying to flee to wherever he hailed from. Merlin did not care about if his secret got out. This man was the only one there to see, and he was as good as dead in Merlin's eyes. Shooting Arthur will be the last thing this man would ever do.
Merlin's eyes flashed a deadly gold, and the bandit tripped. Merlin rolled the outlaw onto his back, seething. Arthur's sword was in his pale and unsteady hand. He held it over the man's chest. "This is for him, you stupid prick!"
The plunderer, seeing no better option, taunted, "Would you have the guts to do it, boy? I saw what your master did. Pretty brave, but also really stupid. Caught me off guard. No matter. Soon, they'll be here, and they'll take your little prince and treat him with the disrespect he deserves. You are a traitor to all us common folk. All those nobles are the same. He'll betray you in the end!"
Inside, Merlin was raging. He did not know the extent of what was ailing his prince. He shifted the blade to above the throat and stabbed the man there. "Stop talking." He yanked out the blade and left the murderer to drown in his own blood. He was not the first person Merlin ever killed, and he certainly would not be the last.
He crouched by Arthur's body, a lump in his throat. "Arthur?"
The blond was still out cold.
Merlin sighed. The easiest way to treat the wound was for him to know what was on the arrow. Even though it was acting as a plug to keep the blood in, Merlin knew that he had to remove the arrow. "I'm going to have to take this out. Believe me, this will hurt me just as much as it hurts you."
He gripped the shaft and pulled. After some struggle, the arrow freed himself. Blood squirted in Merlin's face, and Arthur's body tensed. Otherwise, it showed no signs of acknowledgement at what happened.
Merlin knew without looking that their horses were no longer tethered to a tree. One of the bandits had the wise idea to cut them loose, and they ran off with all their supplies.
Merlin groaned. "Our horses just had to run off, didn't they? And Arthur calls me the coward, I swear..." He looked at Arthur's bloody shoulder. "Well, I guess I have to clean your wound."
He removed the dented armor and pulled down the blood-soaked sleeve. It once was a flawless shade of maroon. Now it was marred by a thick, copper-tasting substance. "I cannot help you completely, but hopefully this will prevent infection from setting in. Besides, what you don't know can't hurt you, right Arthur?" He paused with his palm over the puncture. "I don't know why I even bother. It's like you want to get yourself killed."
Merlin chuckled uncomfortably at the thought of using magic on Prince Arthur. Who would have thought? "Þurhhæle dolgbenn." He sighed because the spell appeared to have little effect. Of all things Merlin had to have trouble with, why healing spells? Just, why?
"Fine, just lie there then. See if I care." Merlin scowled, but his look quickly softened when he took in the vulnerable state of Arthur. He choked up. "Come on, Arthur. Please wake up."
Arthur seemed to stir, but he did not wake. Merlin wrung his hands in frustration. To distract himself, he reached for the arrow and sniffed it cautiously. His nose wrinkled. Henbane. It was a powerful herb, fatal in high dosages. Gaius used it on occasion as a sedative whenever one of his patients was in hysteria. Merlin was relieved that there did not seem to be too much on the arrow. Arthur would remain in this state for the rest of the day at most. As long as I can treat his wound properly.
A thought came to mind, causing Merlin to snort in spite of himself. "It would just be my luck if you could sense what is going on out here you know." He grinned cheekily. "Well, at least my spell stopped the bleeding. No stopping that, ehh Arthur? I guess that is good for now, but we need to get you to Gaius as soon as possible."
Merlin was no physician. True, he was considered by some to be Gaius's assistant, but he did not know much about the various herbs. All his "studies" were actually focusing on magic, not herbology.
Okay, he was semi-decent. Merlin was able to identify henbane as being the drug on the arrow. That was beside the point. If Arthur's life was left solely in his incapable hands, Arthur would die. Funny thing is, his life is in my hands every single waking day.
"I'd prefer that you don't die on the way, you know," Merlin suggested even though Arthur could not hear him. "Your father would have my head if I left something happen to you. For all I know, I'm dead anyway." He stared at the discarded projectile. "Why'd you do it, exactly? I'm not worth anything compared to you."
Merlin raised one hand. "I'm a bastard by law; a servant! I practice magic, though by gods you should not know that." He lifted the other hand like a scale balancing out in the end. "You are the Crown Prince of Camelot, destined to be the greatest king Albion has ever seen. There is no need for you to sacrifice yourself for a low-life like me."
Merlin gritted his teeth. According to the Great Dragon (though his word was not entirely reliable), they were two sides of the same coin. It was probably a pathetic attempt to make Merlin look like a fool, yet he still believed that. In destiny's eyes, they were equals. Heads or tails. One will come out on top, the other on bottom, but there was always a connection that could never be severed. The chances of coming out on top were fifty-fifty, not one hundred percent, not no chance at all.
Greatest king Albion has ever seen. Humph. More like the greatest king of the clotpoles in Dollop-headbion.
"Look at that. I'm rambling again." Merlin folded his hands and created a fire out of thin air. "And you are not even listening. If you were, I'd be a dead man."
The rest happened later that night. Merlin had chosen to stay in the same place until the next morning in hopes that the effects of henbane would wear off soon. He was avoiding carrying Arthur if he could help it. If all went well, he could get Arthur back to Camelot by noon tomorrow. But fate had other plans.
And so, the first chapter is complete. It started as an ongoing conversation on my notepad on my phone, so I have material for next chapter already. Not entirely hopeless. Real quick, please remember that Merlin is NOT a dragonlord, yet. Heck, he does not even know what they are. Morgana does hate Uther, but it is not over-the-top like towards the end of Season 2. She still cares about Merlin, Arthur, and Gwen. Especially Merlin. He has not attempted to poison her yet (but that will never happen in this fic). He just helped her find the Druids if I'm correct.
I just wanted to clear those up right now.
I want to say that for the record, I'm not an expert on henbane. If henbane can kill a human on contact, then whoops (though I think that it is a sedative).
Next chapter will be the actual kidnapping, but I just wanted Arthur to get shot this chapter. Next chapter will hopefully provide a little more explanation on who these bandits are and what they want.
Yeah, fun stuff.
Please consider leaving a review. They mean a lot to me, and I will give a response as soon as I can.
~Lya200~