A/N: Hey guys I'm Nef, the second half of this Merthur writing duo. As Ashe explained I'll be writing in Merlin's point of view. I hope you guys will enjoy this as much as we do.~
You will be staying behind.
Staying behind? Merlin frowned a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. This didn't settle well with him. At all. Staying behind. And what exactly did Arthur expect him to do while he was gone? Fret and worry and wonder if everything was going the way it should have been? If the knights were keeping Arthur properly safe? Despite the way he was treated (And okay, yes, sometimes the insults went both ways) he did actually consider Arthur to be his friend, even if that friendship was only one sided. He felt a certain connection to Arthur which might have been because everyone else seemed to think them connected in one way or another but that didn't matter because the link was there, or at least it felt real enough.
He opened his mouth to protest, to change Arthur's mind - something he could do easily enough on occasion by simply complaining - but before he could get even a word out the prince had continued, and Merlin lowered his gaze, shoulders slumping just slightly. Almost like a scolded child. He said nothing in return, and the knights parted shortly after.
But of course Merlin didn't listen. He never did. Arthur really should have known that. Known that Merlin would wait all of five minutes before following after them - at a safe distance. If he was caught too soon Arthur would give him a good scold and send him back, and how could he protect the prince if he was stuck behind? So really, he had a good reason for disobeying. Right? Right. And Arthur had proved himself to be incapable of protecting himself when magic was involved. Who knew what these slavers were up to, if they were using magic or not, if it was even slavers at all and not some sort of creature. It wouldn't have been the first time people went missing because of a 'monster'. But then there had been that witness..
He really hoped it wasn't one of those. People he could deal with. Flesh and blood human beings. But magic and monsters, that was a completely different playing field. Things got complicated when magic was involved, and out there in the middle of the woods, surrounded by knights, he might not have had the resources to defeat whatever this might have been. Assuming it wasn't just slavers.
He really hoped it was just slavers.
Merlin kept a good amount of distance between himself and the knights, following hoof prints pressed into the wet ground when the distance became a little too much. And when the path became too difficult to travel by horse he dismounted and followed by foot. For trained knights, it really was a wonder they didn't realize they were being followed. Maybe they knew and they didn't care. Maybe they knew it was he who followed them. Merlin had been so sure when leaving that he would have been caught right now, and that he would have to talk his way out of Arthur's commands to go back; he was actually a bit proud of himself for not having been caught yet.
Eventually though, camp was made and Merlin ducked behind a large rock to wait. Arthur would break himself off from the group eventually, and that's when he would approach. He had a much better chance in reasoning with Arthur when the other knights weren't present. He could hear Arthur call for first watch even from his position a good ways away from the group; he gave it another couple minutes before he pushed to his feet, keeping low to cut through the trees. The trees were thick in this part of the forest, difficult to maneuver if one was moving quickly. He made to call out for Arthur but stopped himself right away, shaking his head. That would have every knight in camp on him in a heartbeat with weapons drawn, and that was an experience he certainly wanted to avoid.
He probably should have done something though, alerted Arthur to his presence. Whispered even. Anything. But he didn't. He pushed through the trees and stepped straight into the small opening Arthur had claimed; it didn't occur to him that Arthur could have dropped him where he stood if the prince had been on edge enough to react first and think later. Which was entirely possible, seeing as what they - the knights - were hunting.
Merlin didn't have time to so much as flinch as Arthur brought his sword down just inches away, nor did he have a chance to snap at the prince for startling him like that - Merlin was possibly the only servant in all of Camelot that could sass their master and get away with it - before he was yanked forward, any complaint dying in his throat. Oh, okay. Arthur was mad. This really didn't surprise Merlin - he angered the prince quite frequently - but that didn't make it any less…intimidating. Arthur really could look rather frightening when he was trying. And sometimes when he wasn't.
And that whole head on a wall thing? Not helping the situation.
"You seem...a little upset?" He called after the prince, whom was already marching off in that 'why do I have to put up with this' sort of way. Brushing himself off quickly, Merlin bounced on his heels once and cut through the trees shortly after. He planned on sticking by Arthur's side no matter how the prince might have threatened, because that was really the only place he could do his job. The only way he could provide protection. It was a…different sort of protection, yes. He couldn't very well pick up a sword and fight off any enemies using brute strength as the other knights did, but he cold do something.
He could use magic to save Arthur, like he had countless times before. It was dangerous, both because it was forbidden, and because Merlin wasn't completely sure of himself when it came to magic. He was still learning, after all. It would have been so easy to make a mistake. To let something slip. To reveal his not-too-little secret. And honestly? It terrified him. What Arthur would do if he ever found out. Because magic was forbidden. An offense punishable by death. And it wouldn't have mattered that he'd saved the king's son dozens of times.
If he slipped up it meant death, there was no escaping that. He'd seen Uther's reaction to magic far too many times to ever doubt that.
But he couldn't stop. Magic was part of who he was. It was part of him. It was how he was even able to assist Arthur at all and he wouldn't give that up, despite the ever looming threat. Arthur was his friend, unrequited or not. And he wouldn't abandon his friend to possible danger or death because he was frightened.
So instead of turning back, instead of returning home to wait out Arthur's return, he followed after his prince. Lips pressed into a thin line, brow furrowed just slightly, he remained silent. Like a scolded child. Because he knew Arthur was upset with him, and it did bother him. Just not enough to make him turn back.
Sometimes, it was almost as though Arthur actually cared. Behind all of those insults and flat looks. Somewhere between the name calling and the orders, Arthur would do something. He would say something, look a certain way, smile even and in that second it was almost as though what they had wasn't just the relationship of a servant and a master, but an actual friendship. And then Arthur would spoil it with that mouth of his and things would go back to the way they had been before. Merlin talking far too much. Arthur snapping at him for one thing or another.
It was almost sort of comforting. The routine they'd fallen into. Something close to normal now. It really didn't bother Merlin as much as it had in the beginning, the way Arthur treated him. Because despite the abuse, Arthur regarded him with more emotion than he did any other servant, and that meant something. To Merlin, at least.
Ignoring Arthur's mood, Merlin settled by the fire with the knights - after getting what the prince needed, of course, he was still a servant and he wasn't going to ignore all orders. They picked up a nice bit of conversation, chatting idly amongst each other. They talked a little about everything, about Camelot and the weather and the slavers they were hunting. Every once and awhile Merlin would chance a glance at his prince, who still poured over the map as though something would jump out at him, eyes narrowed slightly.
He wondered how long it would be before Arthur talked to him again, rather than barking orders.
The night air was chilly, and eventually Merlin found his way to the extra blanket - he had a nagging suspicion that Arthur had packed it for him, but then he wouldn't question the prince about such a thing for fear of damaging that all too precious ego of his. What kind of prince packed a blanket for a servant, after all? A good man would, Merlin though, but others would have seen that as a sign of weakness. Present company excluded, of course.
When morning came, Merlin rose with the others - not woke by the feel of Arthur's boot in his side thankfully - ate what had been given to him gratefully, and did as he was told, helping to pack up, and when they finally set off again he was relieved to do so. There was something eerie about those woods, something unsettling. The air was far too heavy, far too close and the moisture in the air almost made it feel as though they were very nearly breathing in water. It was unnerving, and as far as he was concerned, the sooner they got this done and over with, the sooner they could leave and he could shake away the sneaking suspicion that something bad was going to happen out there.
Things seemed to move slowly after that, but Merlin didn't mind. In this case slow meant good. No conflict, just a careful and searching walk through the forest. He was eager to leave behind that foreboding forest, with tree branches that seemed to reach out like arms, snagging at the fabric of his clothes and scraping uselessly against the knights armor. Merlin was suddenly very grateful for the size of the group and the prince at his side. It might not have been a monstrous group but each and every one of them was highly skilled, and walking beside Arthur made him feel almost safe. Like nothing could happen. Of course he knew better than to give into that feeling, because it was exactly there, at Arthur's side, that most of the bad things happened. Assassination attempts and sorcery and oh goodness, countless other things.
They had been walking for a good amount of time, carefully and vigilantly. Even Merlin kept his gaze lifted, scanning the trees that surrounded them with a thoughtful eye. He kept fairly close to Arthur, though apparently to the prince, not close enough. The first time Arthur caught him by the arm he started, glancing over quickly as though he expected something to be wrong, and he did. But Arthur simply tugged him a bit and continued walking, wordless, eyes trained straight ahead, and Merlin relaxed again, but not completely. Not here.
It occurred to Merlin a dozen or so steps later, that Arthur seemed to be going out of his way to touch him, and Merlin couldn't easily figure out why. He came to the right conclusion eventually, that Arthur must have been making sure he didn't wander off and get himself in trouble, but others skirted past his thoughts. Maybe he was worried. Maybe Arthur felt that same sense of malice within the forest and was seeking brief contact for comfort.
The thought that Arthur would turn to him for comfort was oddly…fascinating. It gave way to the thought that maybe, just maybe, he meant more to the prince than the man was willing to express. Arthur did have it in him to be kind, to offer a smile and a pat on the back when it was needed. But were those really hints of friendship or was Merlin just being hopeful? Was it at all possible that Arthur-
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Arthur grabbed for him again, this time more urgently than before. And he didn't let go. Merlin went still, even ceasing to breathe as he stared ahead in the direction of this new noise. He could almost make out a figure through the trees. Something…someone. It was a person. A man. The glint of metal in a patch of sunlight.
It was like an explosion. Suddenly that silent still forest was alive, bursting at the seams with movement. The air hung heavy with shouting, both from the knights and from the men who advanced on them. They had come out of nowhere, dressed in colors that matched the forest around them. How long had they been out there? How long had they been watching? Merlin didn't even have a chance to wonder these things, that shock of fear and panic shooting through him like he'd been injected with something. What could he do…what could he do? He could drop a couple tree branches onto their heads. He could- where was Arthur?
Merlin turned, scanning the area almost frantically for his prince. Not because Arthur was his only protection, but because he was the one supposed to be doing the protecting here. He was supposed to be by Arthur's side, helping. But Merlin wasn't much a help, dodging the swipes of swords and daggers, an elaborate dance around the trees to keep his life. A little nudge with magic here to help a knights sword find its target, or there to drop a few leaves to distract an enemy. Not much, but enough.
They were outnumbered, hopelessly so, but that didn't keep each one of those men from fighting. The valiant knights that they were. Merlin would admire this, later. But just then he was avoiding a blade through the chest. The shimmer of sunlight on armor attracted Merlin's attention, and he glanced up briefly to catch sight of Arthur; he let out a short breath of relief that his prince was still standing, but it wasn't long lived. Arthur fought superbly, bravely, but that didn't keep the enemy from pulling a cowardly move. While one attracted Arthur's attention, the other approached from behind.
Merlin didn't see what happened after that, a deadly duel between another knight and one of those men blocked his view and not so silently he cursed.
By the time Merlin got close enough to see, Arthur was down, and his chest tightened painfully. He called the princes name, shouted it in desperation but the noise was drowned out by the clash of metal against metal. He watched as the very man who had knocked Arthur unconscious now had him by the legs and was dragging him further back into the forest. Suddenly Merlin knew that if he lost sight of Arthur, he would never see him again. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let his future king be forced into slavery - or worse. He wouldn't. A sudden shock of adrenaline had him reaching for the nearest weapon he could find, in this case it was a rock. Not anything compared to a sword, but it would do when colliding with the head. And Merlin had good aim, especially when that aim was aided by a little touch of magic. He was down in a heartbeat and Merlin cut through the battle scene.
The man he'd struck had fallen, splitting his head on the thick root of a tree. Merlin ripped away the cloak he wore - as green as the ground they stood upon - scrambling to his feet in a hurry. He tried not to think of the fact that he had just taken a man's life, instead focusing on what needed to be done. He would think about that later. Arthur's still form shot waves of panic through him, and he could only pray that it was nothing more than a bump to the head with the hilt of a sword, rather than anything serious. He dropped at his princes side, tossing the cloak over his unconscious form to hide him.
The cloak hid Arthur well enough, and Merlin hoped that he'd been dragged away from the scene far enough that he wouldn't be noticed. They were loosing the battle, and obviously so. Their group had diminished significantly, and yet Merlin did not see their bodies line the thick and rooted forest floors. He knew suddenly, that they were being taken. Captured. Probably knocked unconscious like Arthur had been. Like he prayed Arthur had been. Because a bump on the head was something that could be dealt with. Something you could recover from. Merlin didn't stray too far from Arthur's body, hiding himself from view behind a thick tree stump.
He felt cowardly in doing this. In hiding when he should have been following those bastards back to wherever they had come from. And Arthur would likely tell him as much when he woke. If he woke. No, Merlin, when he woke. He couldn't afford to think pessimistically. He was keeping Arthur safe, like he was supposed to. And they couldn't very well rescue the knights if they were bound and locked in a cage alone side the others, could they? That's what Merlin told himself. That he wasn't being a coward. That he following a different line of attack. A different method. He would wait for Arthur to come to, and then they would go after those bastards and get their men back. Arthur's men back.