When the sun rose it heralded a glorious day. The sky was cloudless and the heat already seeping into the land. Merlin again found that he woke first and finding himself very awake he roused himself from the sleeping men beside him and went to check on the horses.
Finding that they were safe and, as far as he could tell without trotting them up, sound, he went to fetch some water. To do that he needed to brave the path down to the rapidly flowing river at the floor of the gorge. The path was steep and narrow, more for animals than humans, and precarious in places. Some spindly trees and bushes grew out along the route, aiding his decent. Many of them were vibrant yellow gorse smelling deliciously of coconut in the sun and the more delicate broom yellow with a centre of red.
On reaching the bottom he clambered over the rocks and sat on one of the large boulders deposited along the rivers' edge. He noticed that the rocks here had formed a slight dam causing a calmer pool to form. It looked cool and inviting.
Merlin squatted on the rock and dipped his hands in bringing them full of water to his lips to drink. The water was intoxicatingly refreshing; he drank a couple more handfuls before splashing water over his face and hair.
He sat for a moment water dripping from his nose listening to the calling of birds and watching the glimmer and sparkle of sunlight off the river. He felt he was currently more content than he had been since he was a child with his mother. In a way he thought it would be a shame to get back to Camelot and all its intrigues and troubles. He smiled ruefully and stood lifting the water hide, sighing. He stretched a little enjoying the aches he felt in his muscles; the physical reminders of his recent pleasures. Turning he made his way up the path.
Arthur and Gwaine were awake when he returned panting, his hair almost dry.
"Merlin! I'm starving! Where have you been?" exclaimed Arthur. Gwaine just grinned at him.
"Sorry Arthur. I was getting water to make breakfast." Merlin replied, rolling his eyes as he bent down to rekindle the fire.
"Glad to hear it. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut" Arthur said, stretching.
"Merlin, I'll get some more wood." Gwaine said, stifling a laugh with a cough as he moved away towards the forest.
It was always harder work getting the fire going without magic but given Arthur's warning last night he felt he better not even risk a silent incantation. Muttering "Pratt" under his breath, he dipped his head and blew into the embers, making the flames leap up and consume the kindling he had layered on. He fed in pieces of twig until satisfied he arranged some larger pieces of wood over the flames. Happy that the fire was going well he put the water on to heat and went to get some of the basic supplies he kept in his saddle bags; oats, dried figs, hazelnuts and some strips of dried meat. Best of all, a small clay pot of honey, to be used sparingly.
He had put the oats on to cook and was standing looking at the fire lost in thought when he felt strong arms come around his body and his name breathed into his ear, "Merlin."
He smiled, leaning his weight back into Arthur's warm embrace, shivering as lips were pressed to his neck. He closed his enjoying the moment.
"Arthur, I have to make the porridge" he complained, jokingly, making no attempt to disengage himself from the embrace.
"Get to it then." Arthur retorted slapping him on the backside.
"Ouch!" Rolling his eyes for the second time that morning the brunette returned to stirring the porridge. He added in the figs and the nuts with a judicious swirl of honey, humming to himself.
Gwaine returned dropping a bundle of wood next to the fire. "There you are Merlin."
"Thank you Gwaine."
Walking away Gwaine called to the Prince, "Sparing practice Sire?"
"Why not." He replied, unsheathing his sword.
Merlin whilst the porridge finished cooking was mulling over the situation. It was wonderful, eye opening, exciting, new and sensational. It did however present potential problems. Arthur's personality wasn't about to change dramatically, he was still going to be boorish, rude and unthinking a lot of the time. He was also still next in line for the thrown and all that entailed; including making an heir, but he supposed once he was King he could do as he pleased. Merlin was still Arthur's servant and now his lover. He savoured the taste of the word in his mind; Arthur Pendragon, his lover.
Well one thing was for sure; there relationship was dangerous and unlikely to be easy. If people were to find out, not just suspect; people wouldn't see much difference really, but if they were caught it was unlikely to be treated lightly by the King.
Of course there was the additional worry of Merlin showing his magic to Arthur unexpectedly. Last night had been close. Yet Arthur had so often not noticed in the past that it may be fine.
Gwaine wasn't a problem, Merlin suspected that he accepted the whole situation with more ease than they did themselves; he also suspected that he had had similar experiences in the past. Besides which he couldn't return to Camelot while Uther was King anyway.
He looked up from the fire at the two handsome men sparing. Both strong and skilled, matching each other well. Arthur the better but not by a huge degree, but then I'm biased he thought.
"Foods ready" he called over the grunts and clanging of swords coming from across the clearing.
They sheathed their swords and walked over to the fire discussing fighting techniques.
"Porridge" he stated as if it needed an introduction, "and dried meat if you want it. Oh, and I found some Mint and Melissa for tea."
"Great." Said Gwaine, rubbing his hands together and tucking in.
"Thank you, Merlin." Arthur said, looking dubious as he took the proffered bowl.
"Arthur" Merlin warned.
He took it and started eating, "Mumf mumf." He said through a mouthful and swallowing repeated "It's good!"
"Don't sound so surprised." Huffed Merlin.
For a while nothing could be heard but the sounds of the forest, the river below, and of mouths masticating.
When their bowls were empty and they were just chewing on some meat Merlin said "The place where I got the water, it's a bit of a clamber down, but some rocks had formed a calm pool and it looked like a perfect place for a swim. What do you think?"
"Yes. Definitely. It would be good to get clean. After the last few days." A slight blush formed on Arthur's cheeks but he held their gazes, not acknowledging its presence, he was damned if he was going to show his abashment about their actions.
"It's such a fine day it would be a shame not too." Added Gwaine.
Merlin packed his provisions back in his saddle bags, collected the water hides and bowls and led the way down to the river.
The water looked every bit as inviting as it had earlier.
Arthur and Gwaine stripped quickly and jumped in.
Merlin took a moment to clean the bowls and refill the hides. When he was satisfied he slipped out of his clothes, taking a moment to look at the bruises and marks of his encounters on his pale skin. Shuddering a little at the memories and the counter point of the gentle breeze and the warming sun over his body.
He watched the other two splashing about in the water, smiling to himself. He sighed happily, Arthur is magnificent, he thought. His eyes took in the firm muscles, the way the water ran down him in rivulets when he stood to... Uh Oh! He had time to think before icy water splashed him from top to toe. As he was still squealing, none too masculinely, firm arms grabbed his waist and he was dragged bodily into the river.
"Arthur!" he near screamed as he went under. He came up splutter and giggling a little girlishly. "Pratt!" he sent a wave of water at Arthur with both hands.
"Idiot" laughter the Prince diving at Merlin and tackling him under the water. Kissing him whilst their heads were under.
"You two are like a pair of children." Chuckled Gwaine, when they resurfaced. He swam towards them.
The Prince and his manservant shared a conspiratorial glance and as one dived at the dark haired Hibernian, splashing him and ducking him under the water.
They continued horsing around for some time, before taking handfuls of river sand, scrubbing their skin clean with it. Once satisfactorily clean the group climbed out of the water and reclined on the warm rocks in the sun, allowing the heat of both to seep into their bones. They sat in companionable silence, until Arthur sighed, "Come on. We need to go. If we leave now we will be home by night fall."
Grumbling under his breath about the impatience of Princes, Merlin started to dress.
They had just finished when they heard one of their horses scream a challenge. They looked up in unison and then at each other.
"The horses!" exclaimed Arthur, before tearing off up the path with Gwaine close on his heals' and Merlin following.
As they neared the top, Arthur slowed holding out a palm behind him to stall the others and drew his sword.
Moving carefully round the cover of the gorse at the height of the cliff Arthur saw a group of five men, some with swords drawn, turning their camp over. Two were untying the hobbles from the horses, preparing to lead them away.
Arthur turned indicating with his hands the number of men and, with a swift drawn thumb across his throat, that he believed them to be bandits.
Their position was such that they could not move round to get behind the intruders; Arthur concluded that they had no choice but to attack from where they were, and waited for a moment when they were distracted.
Merlin had moved up so he could see a little. The horses were less than happy with the unfamiliar men touching them and were spooking and shying, so were occupying the attention of the two men. If he could cast some magic to create a sound in the forest beyond the clearing the men may believe that they were returning form that direction, giving Arthur the opportunity he was looking for.
He cast silently, glancing down to hide the flash of gold in this eyes; he was rewarded by the sound of a cracking branch from the wood behind the would-be horse thieves.
All heads in the clearing snapped round at the sound. Arthur seeing his chance singled Gwaine and they stepped out quietly, swords held ready, and attacked.
The first two men died on their blades before they even knew they were under attack. The rest were not so easy. Turning at the strangled cries of their fellows they met the men blow for blow. One however was still making off with their horses.
Merlin reminded himself for the thousandth time that he really needed to learn some basic swordsmanship and ran forwards, jumping over the fallen tree and tackling the man from behind to bring him to the floor. As they landed he realised his mistake. Why did I not just use magic, he thought as the man bucked beneath him, trying to flip him off.
Arthur was in close, one hand on his combatant's sword hilt, thrusting his own sword into the pulsing flesh where neck met torso. The man fell at his feet.
Looking around he saw Gwaine was coping; the man he fought was having trouble lifting his sword arm.
Where was Merlin, he thought scanning around him, that man always got into trouble in these situations. He saw him across the clearing tussling with the horse thieve just as the man got the upper hand.
"Arrhhhhh!" Merlin screamed as the back of the man's head connected with his nose. He fell backwards clutching his face, blood pouring between his fingers.
"Merlin!" He heard Arthur roar his name through the pounding in his head.
In a heartbeat the bandit was on him, dagger drawn. Merlin had managed to get his blooded hands up and grabbed his wrist. He could smell the man's unwashed body and foul breath. He gagged on the smell and the blood slipping down his throat.
Arthur's heart was in his throat as he saw Merlin, his Merlin, stupid, brave Merlin with a knife's point mere inches from his face.
He was there in a heartbeat, sword forgotten, he snapped the man's neck. Pure rage at someone threatening Merlin's life adding strength to his limbs.
He stood panting, looking around him for further threats, letting his anger work down.
Gwaine was still alive. He was knelt, wiping the sweat from his brow, moving his tousled hair back from his face, before taking up his sword and cleaning it on a tussock of grass.
"I think we got them all Sire." He said. "Is Merlin alright?" Post fight was one of the rare moments Gwaine was serious.
"I'm fine" Merlin said, cupping his nose.
Arthur, coming back to himself, looked down at Merlin, taking in the blood and obvious pain.
"Gods Merlin, he broke your nose!" he yelled. "Gwaine, get the horses, I'll take care of Merlin."
Kneeling down he said, gently, moving with care, "Merlin, take your hands down, I need to see."
Wincing Merlin took his hands away from his face. Arthur gave a small sharp intake of breath.
"Oh, thanks Arthur! Very reassuring. Is it that bad?"
"I'm going to have to reset it, that's all."
"That's all! Great. Go on then, quick, before I can think about it."
Arthur placed his fingers on Merlin's nose and his eye's full of apology, said, "Take a deep breath." When Merlin complied, he sharply moved his hands. There was a crunching sound and Merlin swore fluidly. "God's balls!" He said when he had calmed down a bit, "That hurt." He spat some blood from his mouth on to the grass.
Arthur put one hand on his shoulder and his forehead against Merlin's.
"Idiot, what did you think you were doing?"
"Keeping our horses! Or did you want to walk back to Camelot?" Merlin's eyes were streaming.
"Just leave the fighting to us next time. Or..."
"Or what?"
Arthur stood looking thoughtfully at the dark haired man.
"Or maybe I should teach you some fighting skills. As you never listen to me about not getting involved."
Merlin shrugged feeling a bit huffy. "Whatever you think best my Lord." He said grumpily. Though he had to admit to himself that the idea of Arthur all sweaty in his armour, in close quarters with him was rather appealing.
Arthur helped him to his feet. "You ready to ride?"
"Yes."
"Gwaine, do we have everything?"
"We do. I've tacked up, we're ready to leave."
Merlin took his water skin and used some water to clean his hands and face of the worst of the blood, then mounted his docile bay mare, as the Prince and the wonderer mounted their more militant beasts.
Thankfully the rest of their ride to Camelot went without any further excitement.
