A/N: And here we see the very rare species of early update. Ladies and gentlemen this species is so rare to this area, it was thought to be extinct. It is truly an honor to be in its presence. Drink in this moment for you may never get another like it. Also, ENJOY!
"Help!" Arthur called out into the night, not caring if he woke the entire forest in the process only focused on getting someone anyone to come to their aid now. Merlin was now choking, the vomit stuck in his throat, thrown off its original course by the gag and finding there was nowhere left to go as Merlin's body continued to try and purge itself.
Merlin was convulsing, the sight and sounds of the young man struggling to breathe and purge himself at the same time overwhelmed Arthur. His panic rose to unmeasurable levels. His calls turned into screams, thrashing even more furiously than before in his bonds. He wanted to get to Merlin, he needed to get to him, would do anything to just be able to tear that treacherous gag out of his mouth and let him breathe! He would chop off his own hand if he had to and was practically doing so as the ropes bit even further into his wrists drawing blood as they rubbed the skin clean off. But he was desperate and couldn't be bothered with his own pain as he was forced to watch his friend—yes friend—choke on his own vomit before his eyes. And he was completely powerless to help.
Just then, two bandits ran onto the scene, one with light brown hair and a slight build, the other bald and chubby. Both of their faces were enraged at having been woken up in such a manner and by the captive no less. Neither one was Carlin, nor his bandit comrade and Arthur felt slight relief at that. Not that he really cared at the moment who came to their aid, only that someone saved Merlin.
One of the bandits immediately stalked over to Arthur, not having seen Merlin's predicament, his arm pulled back ready to shut the king up by force.
"He's choking! He's dying! Help him! HE'S CHOKING!" Gone were his reservations of pride and dignity, gone were the feelings of betrayal and disgust he felt with himself for his reliance on his captors. All Arthur cared about right now was saving Merlin.
Both the bandits whirled around in shock, finally taking in the sight of the young servant, now convulsing weakly as the last of his strength began to leave him. They scrambled over, one on either side of Merlin's half-prone body. One whipped out a knife and cut through Merlin's bonds, allowing the two bandits more room to maneuver the young man while the other hastily removed the gag. They then tipped Merlin—now completely stretched out on the ground—on his side, finally giving the vomit a point of destination as it came flowing out. The bald one began pounding on Merlin's back as the convulsions ceased. But whether that was due to the obstruction in his mouth being removed or the life having left this body, Arthur didn't know. He sincerely hoped, prayed and pleaded with any deity who would listen that it was the former.
"Merlin?" Not a word nor movement answered Arthur, causing his concern to increase tenfold.
"He's not breathing, Merek," the brunette stated, his hand over Merlin's slack mouth.
Panic swarmed in Arthur and his mind reeled at the bandit's words. No. Merlin couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.
"Good riddance then. Carlin said he was more trouble than he was worth."
No no no no no. Merlin wasn't dead he couldn't be dead. The roaring of blood in Arthur's ears nearly drowned out the bandits' words.
"But boss said—," the younger bandit begin but Merek quickly cut him off.
"—that we couldn't kill him. Never said nothing about him going and killing himself, the stupid idiot," Merek responded as he got to his feet. Anger rose in Arthur even though he was unable to tear his eyes away from Merlin's limp form. No one called Merlin an idiot but him. No one, especially now.
The bandit looked over at Arthur then no doubt noticing the rage and pain he wasn't even bothering to hide. Not that he could if he wanted to. Shock had him sitting still, staring at the body of his friend.
Merek paused for a second before a malicious grin spread across his face. And before Arthur could even register his intent, the bandit reared his foot back and kicked Merlin in the chest.
A sickening crack filled the air. "Stop! Leav—," but Arthur's protests were cut off by a the sound of retching and a loud gasp as though the owner had been struggling for air and finally received it. After a second, great wracking coughs echoed through the forest.
Merlin.
Arthur sagged in relief as he watched Merlin move, his friend's body wracked with violent coughs as his once empty lungs strove to fill with sufficient air. The sounds were rough and Arthur had no doubt Merlin was in pain—he was certain the crack he had heard was a rib snapping—but he was alive. Merlin was alive.
"Shame," Merek pouted as his comrade ran his hands across Merlin's face, lifting his lids and examining him none too gently.
"He's fine," the brunette announced, looking up at Merek. Hacking coughs continued to fill the silence and the bandit looked back down at Merlin's curled form. "Well as fine as to be expected."
"Don't care," Merek stated.
Then, without warning, Merek grabbed Merlin's arm in a bruising grip and hauled the young man toward where Arthur sat bound, not even giving him a chance to gain his footing.
Merlin screamed.
It was a sound that Arthur never wanted nor never thought he would ever hear. The agony and raw pain emancipating from the cry was enough to have Arthur struggling in his bonds once more, adding his own voice to that of his friend's. His however, was filled with anger.
"Oh do shut up! Both of ya!" The bandit yelled as he dragged Merlin the last few feet and threw him bodily down next to Arthur. "Or I'll gag ya both," he added, kicking Merlin's leg before stalking back toward the tents.
"Tie the fool next to his king. Maybe that'll shut them both up and we can all finally sleep!" He shouted at the other bandit who was still rooted to the spot by the other tree. The man jumped to attention as though startled and quickly made his way over to them. Merlin had curled into a ball, shaking, wheezing, and whimpering softly as tears carved tracks down his dirt and blood stained face. The sight was heart wrenching and one he never hoped to see ever again.
"Merlin? Hey. Look at me, Merlin." Arthur whispered, trying to make his voice as soothing and calm as possible.
The young man made a rasping noise that Arthur assumed was his attempt at responding but it was indiscernible to the king. And though he didn't move, he did open his eyes. Arthur let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but it was something
But all too soon another cry was ripped from his friend's throat as the brunette bandit grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind the tree, threading one under Arthur's own bound arms. The movement forced Merlin to maneuver his body into a more upright position in order to prevent further pain and harm to himself.
"Stop! You're hurting him!" Arthur protested though he knew it was no use. They were prisoners after all, with not much say in what happened to them at this point.
The bandit didn't say a word, just quickly finished binding Merlin to the tree before making a hasty retreat back to the tents. Arthur scowled at his retreating form. The man obviously was not comfortable with the situation. Well that made three of them.
"Merlin?" Arthur questioned, looking toward the young man. The pale face was screwed up in pain as beads of sweat mingled with the tears still leaking from beneath shut eyelids. His arms twitched every once in awhile in a futile attempt to pull them forward, and his breathing was harsh and strained to the point of wheezing and coughing. Definitely a broken rib then. "It's alright, just breathe. Steady in and out."
"Shut...up," Merlin bit out through clenched teeth, his voice rough and scratchy. Arthur raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Please," the young man quickly amended. "My head….is killing me."
Arthur knew that couldn't be the only thing. No doubt the roughness of his voice had something to do with the abuse his throat—inside and out—had been put through lately. Now Arthur didn't pretend to know what almost choking to death on vomit did to one's insides but from the way the substance burned coming up, he knew it was not meant to sit anywhere but in the stomach and out of the body. He added it to the list of Merlin's injuries to relate to Gaius once they returned.
Not wanting to cause his friend further pain, Arthur just nodded. He glanced away, trying to give Merlin what little privacy he could to gather his bearings and pull himself together. The servant must be in a great deal of pain for him to snap like that. In all the time he had known Merlin, Arthur had never heard him speak so harshly. Nor admit he was hurting. It was...concerning to say the least. They needed to get out of here and soon.
A/N: You know what's just as great as an early update? Reviews. Reviews are so nice and they lure the early updates out into the open for all to gaze upon. Thanks for reading and as always, have fun, be safe, and don't die.