Hey :) I am really sorry this took so long. My exams start tomorrow and lets just say - AHHHH!!!!! :P I'm sorry but there probably won't be any updates until they're over D': I'm especially sorry to those waiting on Trystan. If any of you have any advice about my writing I would really appreciate it and all your comments will be with me in my english prelim tomorrow :D
Thanks to reviewers :) All your comments really meant a lot to me, and I'm glad you like the story :D
Good luck to anyone else doing exams! Give it your best shot, and if you really have done all you can that's all anyone can ever ask of you :) Make your efforts count! x
Thanks for reading :)
He had to get out.
He had to get out right now!
Merlin could feel himself sinking. His limbs were jerking awkwardly in shock. But he could swim – he knew how! His body just wouldn't respond properly.
He frowned, trying to do breaststroke in an attempt to pull himself to the surface, but when that failed he just straightened his arms above his head, hands touching to make a triangle shape, and began kicking upwards in his streamlined position.
He closed his eyes in the hope he would make it.
"MERLIN!"
Arthur was frozen at the side of the lake, fear and panic flooding his senses.
Merlin was such an idiot! Not only did he have to walk on the ice, but he had to bloody well fall through it!
The prince's mind began to race. He'd only heard stories about these situations. What was he meant to do?
Should he go onto the ice?
Should he wait to see if Merlin came back up?
Should he go for help?
Arthur ruled out the last one as soon as he'd thought of it – that would take way too much time.
Quickly weighing up his options, the prince made his snap decision.
He'd heard tof potential rescuers quickly becoming victims by running carelessly out onto the ice after a friend.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Arthur glued his eyes to the hole in the lake and steeled himself for a wait.
He would give Merlin a chance to make it to the surface.
The manservant scrunched his face up tightly, trying his hardest not to breathe in. His arms were stretched up above his head, hands searching for solid ice or the fresh air as he continued to kick upwards.
He wondered if he would ever get there.
THUMP.
Merlin's hands we're bent backwards as he suddenly crashed into the ice that he had once walked across.
The warlock inhaled sharply in surprise, forgetting he was underwater.
He began to cough and choke harshly on the water, losing any precious little air he had left and replacing it with the cool liquid that surrounded him. Immense panic overcame him, and his arms flailed around wildly, searching for any escape. His hands brushed the bottom of the rough, freezing ice, fingers scratching desperately at the wall in front of him.
He could feel the cool, empty darkness taking over his body. His limbs were getting slower and heavier. He still couldn't breathe.
Merlin couldn't help but frown as he felt one of his hands was colder than the other, and there was something sharp digging into it.
He felt around with his hand, and realised he could grip onto the rough edge. It was flat and smooth beyond the spikes.
Then Merlin's eyes opened wide, the spark in them renewed and burning.
His hand had broken the surface! That's why it was colder! He could get out! He could feel the edge or the hole digging into his wrist as he ran his fingers across the flat ice, just to make sure it was real.
The warlock threw his arm out of the water and lay it down across the ice, using it as leverage to pull his body up. Thrusting up his other arm, he pushed down on both limbs and kicked with his legs again, pushing himself hard to make it out of the water.
His head broke the surface.
Arthur's heart just about stopped when he saw a ripple in the water.
"Merlin…?" he whispered, daring to hope.
A hand shot out of the water, scrabbling desperately at the ice.
"MERLIN!"
Two arms were laid across the ice, water running off them in small rivulets.
"Come on, Merlin!" Arthur shouted, hoping there was some was his manservant could hear him.
Then with no warning Merlin's head suddenly surfaced, harsh coughs racking his frame as the manservant frantically tried to get air into his lungs.
"Thank God…" Arthur whispered absent-mindedly. He took a closer look at the boy.
Merlin was shivering violently, his body weak, still coughing to expel the water in his chest. The prince began to panic when the warlock kept breathing heavily, gasping uncontrollably.
He was hyperventilating.
Arthur needed to do something. But he couldn't go onto the ice.
The prince growled in frustration.
He would just have to shout at Merlin. It wasn't like it was something new to him.
"Merlin, look at me!"
No response.
"MERLIN!" He sighed in relief when the manservant looked up, absent-mindedly wondering how many times he'd shouted Merlin's name like that today. "You're going to be fine. I promise you that. But you need to calm down. Control your breathing, all right? Slow, deep breaths!"
It took Merlin a few minutes to steady his breath and relax a little, Arthur encouraging him all the way through. The prince knew that when people panicked, all they needed was for someone to direct them, so they knew what to do and what was going to happen.
Arthur was going to be that person for Merlin.
"Keep your head above the water…good…you're doing great!" the prince let out a shaky breath. He had to remain calm – for Merlin's sake. He just hoped the manservant had enough strength to get himself out.
"Okay, Merlin, I want you to try and get out now." The prince thought for a moment before deciding to try his idea. "I want you to kick your legs and use your arms to drag yourself out. Get yourself as horizontal as possible."
The manservant obeyed Arthur, trusting him implicitly. But Merlin was too weak to pull himself out. The warlock only managed to get half his upper body onto the ice, but he was slipping back into the frigid water all the time.
Arthur swiftly scanned the trees surrounding him intently, while inwardly praying for his friend. Spotting what he was after, the prince expertly unsheathed his sword and trudged through the dense snow over to a tree, hacking away mercilessly at a long, thick branch.
Merlin smiled faintly as Arthur let out a royal battle cry with every strike. But the prince did have to let his emotions out somehow.
Arthur's strength and prowess with his sword meant the sturdy branch soon dropped to the snow-covered forest floor. Instantly grabbing it, Arthur darted back to the edge of the lake, getting as close to Merlin as possible and thrusting the line in his direction.
The manservant's numb hands shakily moved to wrap themselves around the knobbly end of the wood, while the prince also grasped the other end, his hands locking into place as they would around his trusted sword.
"Merlin, when I say, just hold on as tight as you can and kick your legs. I'm going to pull you out and taking you back to Gaius. You'll be fine." Arthur took a deep breath as Merlin nodded slightly. "Now!"
A safe distance from the weak ice, Arthur summoned his strength and pulled. Getting Merlin used to the feel, the prince tugged gently at first, before doing his utmost to haul the warlock out of the water.
"Don't you dare let go," Arthur growled through gritted teeth, his words emphasised with harsh tugs on the branch.
Merlin was clinging desperately to the lifeline. Arthur was dragging him out of the water only a little bit each time, due to the water soaking into the warlock's clothes and making him heavier. But as Merlin was towed out of the water, he got better a grip, as he was able to have the branch under his arm and wrap his body around it.
Before long, both prince and manservant were frowning with the effort; their arms were starting to protest, rapidly becoming sore and tired, and the cold was only sapping their energy.
Arthur looked across at Merlin.
The warlock was now so exhausted he just couldn't kick anymore. His skinny, trembling frame hugged the branch, latching on desperately. Merlin's expression was crumpled, his face tucked against his arm.
He looked so pitiful, so frail and vulnerable, that Arthur couldn't actually believe it was his manservant. Merlin was always bright and cheerful. He was an idiot – a clumsy idiot, but he was very rarely down on himself and could always be depended on keep Arthur's spirits up.
To see him like this… it was unnatural. It just didn't seem real.
It was heartbreaking.
At this thought Arthur closed his eyes briefly, before gritting his teeth and yanking on the branch even fiercer than before, the muscles in his arms feeling like they were tearing apart. Letting out a frustrated cry, Arthur full-out wrenched on the line, face turning to one of surprise as the weight on the branch suddenly disappeared, causing him to stagger backwards and fall to the ground.
Merlin gasped as he felt his body being violently torn from the water, jerking sharply on his shoulder. All tension in him fled as his body slumped on the ice. Water dripped off him, and he still shook from the extreme cold. But he was out.
He was free.
Merlin tightened his arms around the wooden limb once more, allowing Arthur to pull him back to the bank of the lake. When the warlock was close enough, the prince immediately gripped Merlin's jacket, dragging him further up the bank and dropping to his knees before his friend.
The manservant lay limply on the ground, curling instinctively into the foetal position. All of his muscles were taut from the cold, his body shuddering. His breath ghosted across the snow that blanketed the ground in shallow and erratic patterns. His skin was several shades paler than it should have been, his lips and fingers tinged as blue as his irises that were concealed behind tightly shut lids.
Merlin looked dead.
A pained expression flashed across Arthur's face at the thought, and the prince closed his eyes and shook his head.
He knew it was up to him to keep Merlin alive.
Arthur stripped Merlin down to his bare torso, before hurriedly shrugging off his own thick, fur-lined coat and wrapping his manservant in it. With no time to waste, the prince hoisted the warlock over his shoulder, scrambling unsteadily up the ice hill to the horses.
He hoped he wouldn't be too late.