DOH..! Oh my gosh guys! I'M SO SORRY! I Uploaded this, but forgot to actually post it.. ugh.. sorryyy I'm silly.. (Thanks for the heads up dear Guest!)
Oh, wow! O.O I feel blown away by all the lovely reviews and your welcomes! Thank you all for jumping right on this little fic :p It's great to be back indeed~
I see you all took a liking to silly little Leigh (it's a celtic name by the way, and it means "healer" :).. And here I was, about to kill him off.. (ehehe, I'm so mean, I know.) Shall see shall see~ I also have a different take on Merlin in this one. It's in S05 after all. He is more mature, more determined and dare I say.. angry. Despite the sour taste of S05 left in all of us, I did like this aspect of him.
Guest-reviewer/Jan/08: A very good observation there..
Some side-notes. **Started reading "In Misery" by DwaejiTokki. Awesomeness! .Read~** Sia's "Elastic Heart" clip is something I'm obsessed with now.. Shia Labeouf's preformance is just beautiful and the duo of him & Maggie is just... dynamic!** Song called "Awam W Snine" from Babylone is a beautiful beautiful tune! .Have a listen! ** Else: Who is excited about 'Testament of Youth'?
..aaand back to fic-land now.. on with the show!
.*.
It was cold. He could feel it, and no amount of shifting could fight it off. He tried to go back to sleep, but to no avail; he tried to make himself smaller, but the cold was uncomfortably there in his limbs and on his skin and he couldn't simply ignore it, so eventually he decided to open his eyes to see what he could do about it.
It was dark.
Merlin furrowed his brows and wondered for a moment if he had left the window open again, but then noticed the scent and sounds of the forest and the humid ground under him and sat up in a jolt. His shoulder pinched a bit, but he gave it no more attention than a hand on his injury.
He was in a …hole??
It was pitch dark and the only light he could see were the stars peeking between the trees above him, with a hint of moonlight coming from somewhere. The warlock was about to mumble a confused 'Where the hell am I?' to whomever that might answer, as he peered around, but figured it's best if he keeps quiet, not knowing who might actually be listening. He frantically ran his hands over himself, but minus the few bumps and sore spots, he felt in one piece and uninjured. Even his shoulder felt a bit better. He was alive! – Strange how he needed confirmation for that, but it all felt weird not being able to see even the tip of his own nose.
Merlin tried forcing his eyes to see, but nothing really took shape in the darkness. He stretched a hand out met moss and stones. He prodded the earthen wall; it was real enough, but he just couldn't figure out what had happened and how he got to his current location. Then, slowly, his memory started to come back of earlier events and it had him enveloped in a most uncomfortable feeling of dread and panic in no time.
Arthur!
Last thing he could recall was pushing Arthur out of the way of a spell.. He had registered some sort of numbness taking over him with rapid effect, but the rest of that was a complete blur. What happened to Arthur? And who was the caped attacker? And it was dark! How long has he been out?
He wanted to get up, but there was something weighing down over his thighs and legs. He reached to push it off without hesitation, but what he first thought to be a log, turned out to be a leg – because logs don't wear trousers - which needless to say, startled him even more. Was it Arthur?
The place seemed to light up a bit, as if on cue. - Merlin guessed the moon peeked out from behind whatever clouds were covering it. - In the chance, he avidly peered at the dim shape of the motionless body it belonged to, but after eyeing the unmoving figure in confusion for a bit he came to the conclusion that he is a lot smaller than the king, thus it cannot be Arthur. But that still left him with the question: But then, who is it?
He scurried out from under the weights, getting to his feet with great speed and backing away. A slight dizziness made him wobble on his feet, so he leaned back against the wall.
Merlin's head felt heavy and thoughts came slow, as if he were tipsy, - minus the cheery part that would imply – and the warlock wondered if whatever that spell was, had anything to do with it. He was contemplating checking on the person, - there just seemed to be something wrong with him, - whoever it might be, when the echo of a boy's voice in his head made him jump.
"They are coming.. Emrys.." And the figure shifted enough for him to see it even in the dark, but soon was swallowed by darkness once again.
It was clear he was a druid, and a young one as well.
"Who are you?" Merlin spoke, his voice a little hoarse from misuse, still a bit wary of who his companion might be.
"My name.. is Leigh.." The boy croaked and from his voice the warlock quickly figured, that his companion must be hurt.
The warlock pushed himself away from the wall and moved to approach him, putting a hand on the wall in front of him, to be sure he doesn't just fall on the youngster. Damn, he was dizzy, and the darkness didn't make things easier either..
He peered above them, trying to make sure there isn't anyone else nearby, - not that he could tell, - then he crouched down next to the druid and summoned just a speck of a dim light in his palm, only as much to see who he is talking to.
A tear soaked face stared back at him with much regret and fear; lips and chin dirty with blood but face pale, almost white otherwise, save for a bruise on his cheek. His dark eyes seemed familiar, but the warlock gave it no thought.
"I am.. sorry Emrys.. so.. so sorry…" he started to cry, then whimpered in pain and Merlin looked to find where he is hurt, while trying to calm him. A bloody patch on his abdomen he held with both hands was an obvious one.
"It's alright.. It's alright. You'll be fine." Merlin muttered. "What happened?" He asked and glanced at him, then turned his attention to the injury. Peeling away Leigh's cold numb fingers, all he could see was dark red, and best guess was a stab would that bled so much.
"I'm sorry… they .. took the king.."
"Who took him?" Merlin looked up for a moment, but kept busy to see to the wound, peeling away the cloth to have a better look. It was a horrid gash to the stomach and physician's practice or not, Merlin found himself swallowing at the gruesome sight.
"Bandits.. while you were out.. I'm sorry Emrys…"
"Not your fault." The warlock shook his head. He figured the druid may have tried to stop them, but being only a child he couldn't do much against the brutes, more so if that cloaked figure was working with the bandits. Merlin did wonder how a druid happened to come along just at the right time. And how did they both end up in this hole..
He put his palm over the wound and cast a spell to knit the flesh together, but it did little for the blood already spilled and he could only hope the spell was strong enough to reverse the damage. The sudden rush of magic made the boy whimper and flinch, but he said nothing about it.
"I'm sorry I.." he repeated.
"Shh.. don't talk." Holding the small light in his palm, Merlin turned left and right trying to find something of use. He doubted he will find anything, but it also gave him a good chance to look around in their location and probably a way out.
As suspected, he only saw debris and fallen leaves and branches. Taking another look, he'd also noticed the boy's left ankle to be in an awkward angle and figured he will make use of those fallen branches after all to make a splint. But then Merlin spotted something that distracted him; something that seemed awfully familiar. Once it dawned on him on what it is, he grabbed the cloth and held it up for Leigh to see as well.
The boy looked at it and then met Merlin's furious gaze that in the dim light looked even more haunting.
"Explain." He hissed and all of a sudden Leigh felt like he'd rather be facing Arthur in all his might and glorious Pendragon anger, then to see someone he admired so much to be so pissed off at him.
Merlin was holding the end of Leigh's cape, and he didn't know what to think when he recognized it to be the same cape their attacker was wearing.
The druid boy didn't know what to say. All the speeches he had practiced and played out in his mind were suddenly lost and forgotten, and he did the only think he felt capable of in his current condition: he started crying. Big crocodile tears ran down his face and it just made his pain increase and he coughed and struggled to be still but couldn't stop himself from crying.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… 'tis.. I was.. I was the one that at-tacked you.. "
The warlock stared at him, but said nothing, clearly too upset. In the next moment he threw the edge of the cape at the boy and stood, closing his palm and with it the globe of light vanished and they were once again in complete darkness.
Leigh couldn't see him, but could hear he stood and paced and he just felt horrible.
"I'm.. srr… Emrys.. plleasss.."
"Shut up.."
It was worse than anything.
He was in pain and feeling cold. He was in agony. As a physician in training he knew exactly just what kind of damage a knife can cause and felt sure he had lost a lot of blood as well. The king was missing. Emrys was angry at him.. It felt overwhelming. 'But.. he is the greatest sorcerer that walked the land..' Leigh thought. If anyone, he will figure it out, and.. clear up the mess he, Leigh, had made. The thought that Merlin was just a man, and he had his limits, never occurred to him. He had too much faith in him..
It won't matter though.. he will surely die soon. Coming to terms with that was something he considered only adults were capable of doing; it made him feel a little bit mature, doing it himself. Though he felt distraught at the idea, but he was sure there will be no way out of this one. He had called out to the other druids and he got an answer.. but it will be some time till they find them and he felt too worn out to do anything else.
He will die and with him the mistake of his life. He tried to find comfort in the fact that at least the warlock is alive and well, and finally awake.
After a bit of silence Merlin seemed to have come to some resolve and Leigh could feel him crouch down next to him once again. He wondered if the warlock will simply kill him, and at this point he felt it would be salvation from his pains; and justice, and perhaps that way, he could also earn the man's forgiveness.
"Tell me what has happened." Merlin said in a colourless tone, but his voice rang in the boy's head, signalling to him to speak telepathically instead, so he doesn't cause himself more pain by forcing himself to speak. In the meantime Leigh felt Merlin's magic hover over him once more and the warm sensation above his abdomen returned.
The boy felt immensely grateful, almost to the point he started crying again, but he held it back and instead obediently started telling him about his intentions and the miscalculations with the well, how they ended up in it and how bandits have found them. They took Arthur out and left him, Leigh to die, presuming Merlin was already dead. "They spoke of ransom.. for the king.." He finished.
So at least, Arthur is safe until that. And they can't have gotten far, certainly not back to Camelot, Merlin concluded, but he still couldn't understand why a druid would attack Arthur. Was this another one of Morgana's tricks? Using a real druid this time. Perhaps the child was tricked himself to doing this.
"Why did you attach us?" His voice was firm and his anger was bubbling. Last thing he needed was to have to fight off druids as well, and Gods know, all his problems always started with druid boys venturing into his life; along with all the other threats looming over Arthur's life. Why would they do this to him? Don't they know how important his mission is? How important Arthur is?
"Why?" He asked again, more harshly and felt himself unmoved by the boy's tears, rather enraged by what he just heard.
"I.. I wanted to talk to you… Emrys. I wanted t.. to ask you to join our.. camp.." Leigh forced himself to speak loudly.
"No." Merlin shook his head.
"Your p-place is with us, Emrys! N-not with a king that .. I.. I just.. w-wanted to talk to you… to conv-vince.. Come with us..! Leave the king and.. be s-safer with us.. he treats you like a servant, Em-mrys.. You are much greater t-than that! You.. d-deserve better!"
"Arthur is a good king." Merlin cut in. He was getting a little fed up with hearing insults on the sovereign. Gods know, he could be an arrogant clotpole at times, but at the end of the day he always tried to do his very best and give his all to the kingdom. "He is a great man and he will unite the land of Albion. He will set magic free."
"He.. will never.."
"He had pardoned the druids years ago, or did you not know that?"
Leigh just stared and didn't reply. He didn't know that. Theirs was a recluse little camp. Always on the move, always hiding. It was the only thing he knew. And word from the rest of the world reached them only seldom.
"I was born to serve Arthur. 'Till the day I die. And I am proud to do that." Merlin said with much conviction, but the druid was still confused.
"But.."
Whatever the boy wanted to say next was cut short as Merlin suddenly planted his palm over his mouth and peered up at the sound of footsteps approaching. "Shh.."
"It's alright, Emrys. You are safe."He heard a man's voice and recognizing the druid, he slowly stood again.
Torches appeared above the well and with them, people wearing capes. They moved quickly and efficiently, fastening ropes to nearby trees, then lowering them into the hole and working to get the captives out.
"Was this your idea?" Merlin pointed the question at the one silhouette standing still while others moved about.
"I assure you, we had no knowledge of Leigh's intentions, up until he called out to us and revealed what had happened." The man answered as the first druids landed in the hole and Merlin stepped back, giving them room to get closer to the injured druid boy and tend to him. Knowing there isn't much he could do, he moved towards a rope to pull himself out of the hole.
It took him a bit more time then he would have liked, and in the end he accepted the druid leader's hand to pull him up. Finally on the surface he peered back to see the druids working on lifting the youngster onto a stretcher, that's just been lowered by someone. The effort of climbing out got him slightly breathless and dizzy once again, but it also ebbed his anger away.
"Are you injured, Emrys?" The man asked.
"I'll live.." Merlin mumbled and moved his shoulder to realise it indeed feels better for some reason. He looked at Leigh again. He felt torn between wanting to make sure he was alright, and wanting to run and find Arthur.
"Don't worry, we will take care of him." The man said as if reading his mind.
"They have taken Arthur." Merlin turned to him.
"I bid you farewell, Emrys, and good luck on your search. It's up to you now.."
"Wait.. Aren't you going to help me?"
"I cannot put my people in harm's way. It is not our way to meddle in affairs of Camelot."
"Aren't you part of Camelot?" Merlin spat. "Your king is out there and needs help! I need your help to find him and save him!" He pleaded. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I am sorry, Emrys." The man spoke in the same monotonous, unperturbed voice, but making it clear that the druids won't go looking for Arthur, and he moved to help the others.
Merlin just stared at him as he moved away. It got his blood boiling again, and felt tempted to ask if it's alright to put him in danger; destiny or not, he still was only one man! It fuelled his anger more, thinking how druids just wait in the background, not ever getting involved and waiting for him to do everything to get them their freedom. Only ones ever doing anything for him were of the Catha, rest of them chose to sit the fights out and wait to see who wins.
He was fuming, but decided not to waste more time and headed off with zest, thinking he can sort out his thoughts better if he's on the move, and at least getting closer to Arthur.
"Find.. our king, Emrys.."
It almost made him turn around, but he kept going. The druid boy no doubt overheard their discussion. At least Leigh came to his senses, he figured, but it didn't help much at this point. He was still angry.
Merlin was dashing though the forest, trying to find Arthur. He had put some great distance between him and the well already and his side was starting to hurt from the rush. He'd just untangled himself from some branches of a bush when he came to a halt, realising something. He had no idea where he was going! Bandits have taken Arthur, yes.. But they could be anywhere! He couldn't even be sure he was heading in the right direction, for all he knew they could be at the other end of the forest by now!
He turned around and around looking for some sign, as he was catching his breath and each and every direction of the wilderness looked the same: dark, haunting and motionless. He raised his arms and pulled at his hair, resting his hands on top of his head and felt completely lost, looking left and right. Now what?
It felt like a hopeless task to try and find them in the dark of the forest, but he knew he can't give up. If the bandits wanted ransom, they were keeping Arthur alive. But 'alive' and 'well' were two different things right now, and if they had no trouble attempting to kill off a child, he was sure they weren't exactly kind and hospitable towards the king. He still had time.. but time was running out.
He was contemplating using a tracking spell when he heard cracking of wood. He held his breath focusing on his hearing, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from or if he had heard it at all. Perhaps an animal or just a branch that broke. But there is was again!
Finally he caught sight of movement to his far left and started sneaking towards it. The moon shone from behind the clouds just enough for him to recognise a human figure and he was convinced it was one of the bandits. Otherwise, who in their right mind would go for a stroll in the forest at this time of the night?
He approached the man with long cautious steps, ducking behind trees and bushes until he was close enough to actually see him, but the brigand didn't seem to notice. He was lazily picking bits of fallen branches and wood off the ground, collecting firewood and concentrating on the task, completely unaware of the warlock's presence.
There was a shout and roar of laugher somewhere in the distance and Merlin felt hope swell in him as well as a sense of urgency wash over him. They must be near!
There was a time he would have sneaked around the man and maybe knock him out with a piece of wood, but by this time his focus was solely on Arthur, thus a flash of golden in his eyes sent the bandit flying back at some trees. There was a sickening crack on collision and the man slumped down on the ground, having no idea what hit him.
The warlock waited for a moment longer, to see if the man stirred or whether there was someone else nearby, but as silence settled in, he moved towards the motionless figure and checked him over. Surprisingly, he was merely knocked out, but the servant cast a sleeping spell on him for safe measure, then took the man's dagger and sunk it into his own bootleg. After another moment of listening and trying to guess which direction the noises were coming from, he was on the move again.
Merlin finally came upon the campsite. It wasn't hard. The outlaws, being proud of their catch and sure of their ransom were quite rowdy and made it easy for the warlock to find them. He sneaked closer and closer trying to make as less noise as possible. Once he deemed his hiding place in the bushes to be close enough to have a clear view of the camp, he frantically searched for the king.
He easily spotted Arthur across the camp, and was relieved to find him well and awake, though gagged and hands bound behind him. The blonde was sitting at the bottom of a tree with a straight face, as much as a gag would allow it, and needless to say he wasn't happy about his predicament. But at least he was alive..
Now for the bandits.. They mostly sat around a camp fire, some resting on their sides, others just sitting. They talked, and cheered, and Gods know where from, but they even had some ale to celebrate with. The small cart behind them suggested it wasn't their first looting that day.
Merlin counted some eight men and started wondering how to get rid of them. He could go and get help, but the bandits might think to leave; or he could wait until they drink themselves senseless and pass out, as the way some of them started to sing tavern songs, it really looked like it was heading that way, however he didn't want to leave Arthur in their presence any longer than necessary. Who knows, they might remember some hurt from long ago and in their drunken state they might think to carry out revenge. He could clear the lot with magic in no time, but Arthur was awake and he doubted the king wouldn't get suspicious if bodies fly left and right and then his manservant appears out of nowhere to save the day. That would require too much explaining. On the other hand a sleeping spell might do, but that too might be suspicious for the king. Damn it, why does he have to be awake?!
Another man surfaced from the shadows with an armful of firewood, right across from Merlin's hiding place and he made his way towards the fire in the middle of the camp. At this, it crossed the warlock's mind if there are any other bandits in the forest that he might have missed, but decided to wonder about that later and just sneak up behind Arthur and see what he can do. He was already backing away, however his thoughts were cut short when something smacked him on the back of his head.
Sharp pain; everything flashed white for a moment, then on came the darkness and he vaguely registered falling face first onto the bush.
The darkness didn't last long however, as he was coming to, while being not to gently dragged into the camp, by a strong grip on the back of his jacket, along with his neckerchief.
"Lookit what we have here!" A gruff voice spoke from behind him, but he felt too dizzy to react. Besides the neckerchief was digging into his neck and significantly blocking the oxygen intake from him. He tried grabbing it to pull it back, but having his whole weight against it made is seem impossible; and in his confused, dizzy state he couldn't find his footing fast enough.
The bandit then decided to pull him up by the scruff, so Merlin eventually got to his feet, but could only catch a glimpse of a big bearded man approaching him, when said man's massive fist found his way straight to his stomach, and the punch left him breathless and strengthless and he doubled over in agony. The next moment he was let go and he dropped to the ground. All he could do is curl up and cough.
There was laughter and some of the bandits got to their feet with glee. A beating was always good entertainment, especially if they weren't the one on the receiving end.
The pain was complete torment and with his head feeling very sore as well, he felt he will either pass out or throw up any minute, but he squirmed and forced himself up, only to be kicked again and he fell on his shoulder which didn't exactly help.
This time he did cough up some of his stomach's content. The bandits roared, but their sound was still muffled through the ringing in his ear.
He took huge gulfs of air and tried to focus and get back up. The warlock managed to catch the next boot that was heading his way and for a few seconds it was a game of tug, with the bandit balancing on one leg, trying to get his other one free, and Merlin hanging onto it for dear life. Eventually he got a good grip and twisted it without a thought, sending the man into a fall screaming, and he landed nearby, cursing and gripping his ankle. As a reward someone kicked him from behind and he arched his back and groaned.
The others stood around laughing, convinced that the dark haired man was no threat to them and they were closing in on him, eager to deliver the next punch or kick, but not really rushing it. What fun would it be if they didn't make it last.
Merlin however had other ideas, and the current turn of events certainly needed a new plan of action. He didn't waste time, though he was still coughing for air and the world was wobbling dangerously in front of him, he got to his feet with as much haste as he could, and the bandits let him.
He spotted movement from the corner of his eye and saw another man trying to have a go at him. This time he was ready though and moved out of the way of a fist and delivered a punch of his own, that sent the brigand flying back with a moan and tackling someone that happened to stand behind him.
"He means business, this one!" The big one shouted and laughter roared from his men. He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder and as the servant tried to shrug him off, the bandit caught his wrist and with a quick move he twisted his arm behind him roughly.
Merlin let out a shriek. It was his left arm.
Even the bandit jumped at the sudden scream. Arthur winced, looking at his servant with sympathy, knowing exactly why Merlin had reacted that way. No doubt the hold on him was pulling at his wound.
"That's enough there, laddy." The bandit hissed and the next moment, he was back to business. He held Merlin firmly, pulling out a knife and setting it against his neck to make him stop squirming, and slowly turned him to face Arthur. At this point the king stopped yelling into his gag and watched wide eyed what was about to happen.
"Now.. Your pretty little servant came after you, Sire.. I thought you said he was dying. He don't look too dead to me." He tugged at his arm again and Merlin involuntarily groaned as response, squeezing his eyes shut. All the other hits he received were aching but it was all dull in comparison to how much on fire his shoulder felt at the moment.
"How am I to trust you, when you can't even decide if your servant is dead or not?" The bandit spoke, accentuating every other word with a tug on Merlin's arm, each sending fire though the warlock's injury, and making him groan just a bit. "Or maybe I should just sort it for you, Sire.." He said with a sinister glare and pressed the knife tighter to the servant's neck, drawing blood. Merlin involuntarily gasped at the feeling and tried not to flinch a muscle. Arthur was screaming something again into his gag and shaking his head vehemently.
"Should I kill him, lads?" He shouted with a grin, aiming the words at his men while holding Arthur's look of dread, and there was cheering around them.
Merlin was holding very still. His head was still spinning, but he thought now would be a good time to use magic. Come what may, he will use his gift to get them out of this mess and figure something out later in terms of explanations – at least they will be alive to argue about it.
He was a breath away from a spell, however amongst the roars of "Kill him!" and "Finish him!", the knife suddenly disappeared and Merlin breathed out in relief.
"Nah.. I have a better idea.." The bearded man spoke and licked his lips, ignoring some of the disappointed groans from the others. "Shut up, you filthy lot!" He snapped at them eventually, but kept his gaze on Arthur the whole time. "If the king likes his servant so much, he can buy him back once he is bought back by his wench queen." And there was cheering yet again for the idea. "IF he can afford him, that is.." he added and laughed. "Are ye even worth that much?" He sneered at the warlock giving him a shake, then turned to his men to join them in their merriment.
Meanwhile Merlin decided the distraction could be his best ally in this situation, and in a rushed tactic he whipped his head back, aiming to hit the man in the face, but he miscalculated the bravado, only hitting the bandit in the chin.
The leader dropped the knife in the commotion, but he was more surprised than injured and his other hand stayed firmly on the warlock's wrist.
The next minute retaliation was swift and painful.
A dull pop and Merlin felt as if lightning hit him. All he could do is scream once the man pulled at his arm in a rough tug. Searing pain bit down hard on his shoulder with its burning teeth and the world was spinning and his stomach was rolling and when the bandit finally let go of him, he fell to his knees holding his shoulder and he feared he will just topple over and pass out.
Arthur was tugging at his restrains, but to no avail. Two men stepped up and grabbed hold of the servants' arms and tied his hands around his back. The whole time Merlin had his head bowed and was wobbling dangerously, only coming out of it when he got pulled again to stand. He got to his feet with a groan and it seemed he had his fire back again.
"You won't get away with this…" he started, but was quickly met with a backhand from one of the men to shut him up and he nearly fell again. At this point Arthur started feeling really sorry for him. The man clearly didn't know when to back down.
"Yeah, yeah I heard it before.." the leader said in a bored tone and a wave of the hand, and didn't even look at him, turning to have his cup filled with ale again. "Put him next to his precious king.'' He spat the order and Merlin was gagged and lead towards where Arthur was sitting. However, once few steps away from the king, his clumsy feet seemed to get caught in something and slipping from his captors' grip he fell on the ground with a muffed mewl.
"What a clumsy idiot! Are you sure you are the king's servant?" One of the men exclaimed and some of them were howling with laughter. He leaned to grip him and pull him to his feet, but Merlin was trying to kick out again, and the bandit had to step back. He then did an awkward somersault, as if trying to get to his feet; his ankle slamming at the tree trunk and nearly hitting Arthur in the head in the process and the bandits were in stitches.
Finally the man having had enough of his stunts, manhandled him back to a sitting position before he could do anything else and half tosses him against the tree. Merlin emitted yet another mewl through his gag, but sat still, panting.
"Check if he has anything on him." Someone called from the group and the bandits' hands were roaming through his body; checking his belt, jacket, legs of his trousers and his boots.
"Nuthin'!" He grunted the answer almost disappointed. "Don't. You. Move." Then growled, pointing a finger at him, but Merlin just looked at him with a defiant glare that said he would bite his finger off if he weren't gagged. The bandit however ignored him and tied the warlock's ankles together, before getting up to join the rest of the group.
Arthur watched him leave and then sharply turned to look at Merlin in a "what-have-you-done-you-idiot" way, but was taken aback by the sight.
Merlin was still eyeing the bandits in a sort of grim determination, but his face was glistering with sweat and he was breathing low and heavy. It quickly crossed Arthurs' mind that his shoulder may be causing him pain and involuntarily glanced at Merlin's left shoulder next to his, but of course he couldn't see anything.
Arthur's patience was wearing thin however, thus he gave the servant a shove with knee, and Merlin finally turned to look at him. The king couldn't hide his concerned look, the man looked pale, but in the same time he was annoyed why the manservant came after him, instead of getting help. - And just how did he get out of the well?
At first the servant's eyes didn't betray anything, but then of all things, Merlin winked at Arthur and shifted, as if trying to get comfy. – As comfy as one can get with a shoulder feeling on fire.
For a moment the king just stared at him with furrowed brows, not entirely sure whether his servant has finally lost it, or he indeed had something up his sleeve. Oddly enough, he went with the second option and with some strange reassurance that there is a plan, - whatever it may be coming from Merlin, - Arthur straightened his back, leaning against the tree and looked at the group.
He hated the wait, but from the looks of it they had nothing better to do, but wait.
.*.
Next chapter: soon... Thank you for reading~ Reviews encouraged and much appreciated~