Title: The Straight Line
Author: Arisprite
Wordcount: 1,949
Summary: Thanks to Gaius' lessons, Merlin is able to provide care and comfort on the road, much to Arthur's surprise.
Warnings: (General) Wounds, blood, gore, potentially dangerous, and perhaps not thoroughly researched medical practices, tiny bit of swearing. No slash intended, but friendship can look like more from the outside. You're free to take my words however you like. (This Part) OC death.
Disclaimer: Obviously I am not the owner of BBC or Shine. I'm a college student!
Series: Part 1 of the Physician's Apprentice Series (formerly titled Five Times Merlin Had To Heal Someone Else, and One Time He Had To Heal Himself). Merlin has gotten tired of never knowing what to do in emergencies, and heaven knows his healing magic is unreliable at best. So he begins to study medicine under Gaius, just in case.
A/N: I began this series with a healthy love for competent!Merlin, an obsession with doctors (which started with Aragorn many years ago) and an unhealthy attraction to whump in all forms. Thus, this series was born. Please, read, review and enjoy!
Thank You: To my sister, Kate-7h, who is awesome, and is my unofficial beta in all things Merlin. I owe you a treat!
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back.
The storm keeps on twisting; you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack.
Merlin shifted yet again atop his saddle, tensing and relaxing the muscles in his legs in an attempt to ease the soreness building up in his entire lower half. His horse shifted also with a neigh of annoyance at his movements. Arthur reacted in much the same way.
"Merlin, can you not just sit still?" Arthur snapped towards him, the royal prince sitting straight and tall on his own horse. The procession of knights was the same; if anyone besides Merlin was sore, they didn't show it. Merlin scowled. It wasn't fair; he'd not grown up half in a saddle. Ask him to walk for days, and he could, but riding was a rare pleasure in Ealdor. It wasn't until he came to Camelot that he learned what a chore it could be, especially when it went on for what seemed like days.
"I'm sorry!" Merlin answered Arthur in a way that wasn't sorry at all, shifting again, and hearing his back crack spectacularly. "We've been riding all day, Arthur. I can't help it if I get sore."
"If you weren't such a weakling, you'd be able to take riding all day." Arthur returned, and then gestured around to the other knights and himself. "None of the rest of us are sore. Right?"
The other knights, not used to being drawn into their prince and his manservant's disputes, simply shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. Some, like Leon, who knew Merlin better than the other knights, just smiled. Arthur seemed to take the scattered reaction as proof of his point, for he nodded and turned back around.
"If you weren't such a prat, you wouldn't make us ride all day." Merlin muttered quietly, though Arthur heard and glanced back again with a quick glare. "What about the poor horses? Forget about me, they're the ones that have to lug us around all day." Merlin said louder. Arthur rolled his eyes so dramatically, that Merlin could tell he'd done it from the back of his head, and then reigned in his horse. Merlin came abreast of him, and Arthur leaned from his horse to meet Merlin's eyes fiercely.
"Merlin, one more word, and we're riding through the ni-" A cry cut him off, and instantly the patrol was tensed and ready.
Merlin forgot about his sore bottom, and looked up ahead, where the sounds of gruff shouting could now be heard, and then the woman's scream which they'd heard first sounded again.
Arthur broke into a gallop, and the others followed suit.
Rounding the bend in the road, Merlin quickly took in the scene before him. A group of rough looking men, holding knives and in one case, a scythe, was surrounding a lone girl, probably a teenager. Another person, an older man, lay on the ground. Their clothes were poor, and a tiny money bag was being held out by the girl, a scared looking creature with a pale face and red hair. However, the men looked far from appeased, and Merlin feared this was no robbery.
The moment their horses burst from around the bend, the men startled badly, one even dropping their knife. They did however, look as if they were preparing for a fight, and Arthur and his men were more than prepared to give them one.
Merlin's eyes went to the girl, and the man. She'd dropped back as soon as the attention wasn't on her, stowing her money away; the poor's instinct to covet all they had. Merlin's attention though, was not on her money, but on the hand she kept pressed to her upper arm, and the blood leaking from a nick on her throat. The older man lay still, and from his distance, he could not tell if he was wounded, or dead.
Merlin dismounted quickly, and untied one of his saddle bags, gripping it firmly.
Ever since Arthur'd gotten shot with the arrow by the Crystal Caves, months ago now, Merlin had taken to carrying a medical bag; stocked with bandages, herbs, and a needle and thread. Gaius had made sure he knew how to use the things inside, and what to do in case of certain wounds or emergencies. Merlin struggled to remember everything along with the magic he was still studying in his free time, but since his healing magic was temperamental to non-existent, Merlin learned as much as he could. With how often Arthur got them into trouble, it was wonder they'd survived this long. If Merlin could help those odds by being prepared in more ways than magical, he was more than willing to fill up brain space with the knowledge.
The practice of it was another matter, and Merlin hadn't had much. But he was determined to do as much as he could for the people before him, while Arthur and his knights did what they do best, and took out the attackers.
He approached the girl carefully, but urgently, raising his hands to show he was unarmed before coming within reach.
"Are you hurt?" Merlin asked, running his eyes over her. She shook her head, but didn't make eye contact, instead looking to the man on the ground.
"Help him." She begged, and Merlin took that as permission to break into a run, sliding to a halt near the prone figure. This close, he could see that they shared the same red hair; father and daughter probably. Merlin gently lifted him, and rolled him over. His heart sank to feel the chill of the body, the unnatural stiffness that was already beginning. Merlin's fingers on the man's throat only confirmed it; he was dead. A wound to his chest, and the puddle of blood underneath him showed him the cause.
Gently lowering him back down, he turned with sorrowful eyes to the girl. Her distraught eyes read his thoughts before he could voice them, filling with tears.
"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." Merlin said sympathy in his voice.
The sounds of fighting still going on came to Merlin's ears, and he glanced up to see Arthur and the men finishing off the last of the men, rounding up the ones who were still alive. He turned back in time to see the girl sink to the ground.
Merlin dove forwards in time to catch her around the waist, her nearly unconscious form sending him to one knee. He lay her down gently, and his eyes caught the bloody gash on her arm, which had previously been hidden. She was already stirring when he turned on his knees to gather up his bag, and pull out the medical supplies.
"Lie still," Merlin said as he unrolled bandages. She quieted, her hand hovering over the gash on her arm.
Merlin poured some of the water from his flask over it, and then leaned in close to examine it through the tear in the sleeve. As he did so, he became aware of a form looming over him.
Arthur peered at the cut arm from behind his shoulder, looking grudgingly impressed.
"So I see Gaius' lessons are paying off." Arthur said, watching as Merlin wrapped up the wound, after determining that it did not need stitches. Gaius would look at it once they got back to Camelot, but Merlin felt a dim sense of pleasure at a job well done.
"So it seems, sire." Merlin said, finishing up the tie. "If only..."
Merlin's eyes went back to the man who'd been killed. If he'd gotten there sooner, he might have been able to do something.
Arthur, who knew well the guilt of not being able to help, squeezed his shoulder.
The girl had stilled when he treated her arm, and was now lying unmoving, with silent tears running from her eyes. Merlin tested the knot in the bandage, and then moved into the woman's line of sight.
"I'm finished with your arm now." Merlin said carefully, not sure what to say further. "What's your name?"
"Moira," She whispered. Moira sat up, with only a little of Merlin's help.
"The old man, was he your father?" Merlin asked carefully.
Moira nodded, tears filling her eyes.
"Gilbret," She said hoarsely, before launching herself at Merlin, her arms going round his neck and almost causing him to fall backwards were it not for Arthur's steadying hand at his shoulder. She cried into his tunic, immediately wetting the fabric, and Merlin patted her back gently. Arthur met his eyes from behind Moira, his expression very plainly 'better you than me'. Merlin raised a brow, but then turned his attentions to the girl, trying to comfort her.
After a few minutes, her sobs quieted, and she pulled back. She wiped a hand over her face, blushing in embarrassment.
"'M sorry," She murmured, and Merlin shook his head.
"It was nothing."
Arthur broke in, having waited for the girl to stop crying.
"Where were you and your father headed, Moira?" He asked gently. Moira looked at him with wide eyes.
"Camelot. My father and I lost everything in a fire, and we were headed there to start again. My aunt lives there..." Her mouth trembled, and Arthur laid a hand on her uninjured shoulder.
"We come from Camelot. My knights and I will escort you there. I can ensure you will be given what you need there to make a good start."
"I'm Merlin," Merlin said, realizing that neither of them had introduced themselves.
"'Lo..." Moira's voice was small, but she gave him a little smile nonetheless.
"And I'm Arthur." At this she started, looking at him with wide, nervous eyes.
"You're the prince." She said. Arthur nodded. She blushed, and looked down.
"Thank you, sire."
Arthur titled her head back, a gentle finger on her chin. "Hey, that's alright. Good now?"
She sniffed, and nodded.
"Good!" Arthur said, clapping his hands together. He rose, and put a chivalrous hand down for the girl. Merlin stood as well.
The knights, meanwhile, had rounded up and subdued all the men who'd attacked Moira and killed her father. The ones still alive sat in a circle, guarded on all sides.
"Tie them in a line, and bring them back to Camelot for suitable punishment." Arthur commanded his knights. Merlin had a feeling there would be a few more souls for the chopping block. For once, glancing at the body of the Moira's father, he found he didn't mind too much. Arthur turned to Merlin then, lowering his voice. "Ready the horses, and prepare the body for transport. We'll ride ahead with Moira. She doesn't need to be around these pigs any longer." Merlin nodded, and stepped over to the prone figure of Gilbret. Kneeling down, he gently closed his eyes, and was about to shrug off his jacket to shroud the body, when a hand on his arm stopped him.
"Take mine." The meek voice of Moira said. She was holding out her ragged cloak, and tears were glistening in her eyes. Merlin, recognizing the pain she felt, nodded, and carefully took the fabric. He wrapped the body in it, and with the knights' help, laid it over his horse, lashing the man to the saddle. Moira was his shadow through this, and when the last knot was tied, she sucked in a breath, as if she'd been holding it all this time. Her eyes turned to him, and with a watery smile, she nodded to him.
She didn't need to say it, but gratitude shone in her eyes, even along with her grief. Merlin knew well the pain of losing a father, and his own eyes moistened as he nodded slowly back.
