Warning: Some violence and references to sexual situations. If that's not your cup of tea, please move on.

No spoilers in this chapter.

See bottom of chapter for Reposting Note.

Hold on Loosely

by Nightfox

Chapter 3 - The Morning Always Follows

Arthur woke to weak sunlight streaming across his face. Merlin forgot to draw the curtains again was his first thought. That's when he became aware of the warm body he was tangled up with. He groaned silently, trying to remember the night before.

The feast, that's right, the feast to celebrate his father's victory over the Black Knight. Yeah, that and supposedly to celebrate my coming of age since the first feast for that was interrupted by the Black Knight. Huh, the spotlight was definitely not on me though. I still can't believe father had Gaius drug me! I doubt anyone really believes it. They've got to be thinking I'm a coward who hid behind his daddy when the bogeyman came to visit.

A small movement and a soft little snuffle came from the body he was wrapped around, bringing his attention back to the present. He cracked open an eyelid and was confronted with a short messy mop of raven black hair snugged up just beneath his chin. Glancing slightly sideways, his eyes traveled down the a long lean length of snowy white skin, sinewy muscles, surprisingly pert buttocks and long, strong, well shaped legs.

Oh, Gods, no! Please, no! He closed his eyes tightly and prayed he'd been imagining things. It couldn't be Merlin! Anyone but Merlin, please! However, when he opened his eyes again, he was sure it was his manservant. No one else he'd ever known had skin like that, not combined with that shiny blue-black hair. Add in all those long, slender limbs and it couldn't possibly be any one else, no matter how much he wished it was.

He held still, not wanting to wake up the man in his arms until he could think straight. However, that was the same moment, Merlin stirred against him, tilted his head back, opened his wide Atlantic-blue eyes and smiled at Arthur. It was the purest, sweetest, most heart-stopping smile the young prince had ever seen in his life. He was overwhelmed with feelings, his heart tightened in his chest, his breath froze in his lungs, hot lead spread through his veins like fire. That smile hit him like a booted foot to the solar-plexus. It was too much, it was far too much for the young man who'd been trained since birth to suppress his feelings, to show none of the tender emotions.

That pure, radiant, loving smile made him panic like nothing else could have at that moment. He hadn't had time to process the night before, he hadn't had time to remember the self-revelation he'd had in those last passionate moments with Merlin before they both drifted off to sleep in ecstatic oblivion. All he could see was the pure love shining out of Merlin's eyes and it terrified him. An army of a thousand ogres covered in diamond plate armour couldn't have inspired the level of fear that smashed into him with that one gentle look from sleepy sapphire eyes.

"Out! You have to get out! Now!"

He shoved Merlin off him as if the boy's buttery soft skin was the deadliest contact poison. Merlin's smile evaporated only to be replaced by an expression of the most terrible confusion. He shook his head slightly, utterly bewildered by Arthur's behavior. His slow response pushed the Prince's panic into rage.

"I said, get out!"

"Arthur? Arthur, what's wrong?"

To say Merlin was confused would have been the understatement of the century. He'd fallen asleep in the arms of a man who couldn't stop touching him, had drifted off with the feel of his lover's lips and fingertips still roaming his skin even as he himself hadn't possessed the energy to maintain consciousness. That man had called him "Love" and from his lips the word had rung with conviction.

The man yanking him out of his bed by the arm was a different creature entirely. The expression on his face was cold and savage. He jerked Merlin's arm so hard the boy was fairly certain he'd dislocated his shoulder even as he landed naked on the cold, hard wood of the highly polished floor. His head started to spin, a throbbing pain exploding at the back of his skull as his spine jolted from the sudden impact with the unyielding surface of dark oak planks.

Moving with the extreme speed that years of physical training had given him, Arthur gathered Merlin's clothes and threw them at him. Gingerly rising, his legs trembling and hands shaking with pain and nerves, Merlin dressed as quickly as he could even as the Prince did the same. Still clutching his belt and boots in his hands, the black haired sorcerer found himself being wrenched by the same arm and dragged toward the chamber door even as an involuntary cry of pain escaped his throat.

"You're such a fucking girl, Merlin!"

Just as he reached the door, Arthur stopped and dragged Merlin upright, causing him such pain as to make him nearly black out. Bringing his lips close , Arthur hissed in Merlin's ear, "If you ever speak of what happened last night to anyone, you'll regret it till your dying day. Be sure of that. It never happened, you understand?"

Merlin, barely able to breath from pain, nodded almost imperceptibly. It wasn't enough of an acknowledgment for the crazed man holding him in his agonizing grip. Arthur repeated himself, "It. Never. Happened. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone. You got that? Answer me!" The prince shook him and Merlin nearly screamed, "Yes!"

The bewildered boy was barely cognizant of the way Arthur practically ripped the door off his hinges in his panicked frenzy. He was aware again of more tearing pressure on his shoulder as he was unceremoniously shoved into the corridor beyond the wooden portal. He'd barely cleared the threshold before that same door slammed hard behind him. He slumped weakly against the smooth planks and slid to the floor, cradling his injured arm against his chest. His belt fell from a hand rendered useless with pain but he did manage to keep hold of his boots for all the good it did him.

The guards on duty on either side of the door looked down at him in astonishment. They could see the boy's arm was hanging loosely at a very disturbing angle. They looked at each other and nodded shortly. The right-hand guard, Merlin knew him as Aldwyn, sprinted quickly down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Merlin, shook his head, vainly attempting to clear his head of the red haze of pain and the paralysis of a crippling confusion. He pushed back against the door and began to inch himself up its smooth oak surface, trying to force himself to his feet. The remaining guard, Derfael, placed a gentle hand on his undamaged shoulder.

"Stay still boy, aid will be here soon."

Merlin was too dazed to argue and slumped back to the floor with the tiniest of whimpers. Aldwyn reappeared in short order, retaking his position next to the door. All three of them knew that had Aldwyn been caught away from his appointed position for even a moment, had he been reported, it would have meant a vicious flogging. A punishment that meant weeks of recovery or possibly even death from infected wounds. It was a testament of the esteem that Merlin was held in that the man risked himself thus to fetch help for the sweet natured lad.

Within moments of the soldier's return, two off-duty footmen appeared bearing a litter. Despite weak but heartfelt protests from Merlin, he was quickly but gently loaded onto the stretcher and whisked away from the Prince's chambers. To Merlin, it seemed that no time elapsed at all before he was being gently transferred from the litter to his own bed in Gaius's chambers.

He was only half-aware of the low voiced exchange of words between his litter bearers and his guardian, the Royal Physician.

"...apparently the Prince...no, no idea, Aldwyn said there was a shout or two and then Merlin tumbled out the door and collapsed...obviously his arm...Derfael mentioned...dried blood...yes...back of his neck..."

He let go then, too confused and hurt to try to continue to comprehend the voices and just let the sound swirl around over his head, meaningless. His shoulder, back, chest and head were throbbing sickeningly with pain. However, it was the emotional shock that was the worst. He'd been so certain as he fell asleep the night before, that Arthur returned his feelings. Had it been some sick, twisted game? Even if he regretted a drunken tumble in the sheets with a servant why had he been so enraged? No, something about even that seemed wrong. Arthur hadn't been that drunk the night before. Merlin was remembering the events leading up to that tumble in Arthur's bed and the Prince had been lucid if not overly rational. He'd been angry then as well, angry enough to knock Merlin unconscious for the first time since they'd met.

However, he remembered it had been accidental, Arthur hadn't meant to slam him against the door that hard. He'd been genuinely remorseful when Merlin had come to. Was that it? Had it been a pity fuck? Had Arthur felt guilty enough at the time to throw Merlin a bone, in a sexual sense? It was true, Merlin had initiated the caressing by telling the Prince that his life belonged to him. He'd been dazed at the time, had been trying to reassure his friend that he was forgiven. He hadn't actually meant it in a sexual sense, per se even though he was in love with Arthur and had been for some time. He'd meant the words to convey his dedication, loyalty and clemency for the accidental harm inflicted on him by the man who'd become the center of his universe.

It had been Arthur who had instigated the sex. He'd kissed Merlin, he'd been the one whose hands had wandered all over the sorcerer's body, had started to strip him of his clothes before Merlin's hands had even lifted to slide into Arthur's hair. He was the one who'd spread Merlin's legs and settled between them before stripping him of his trousers, already having dispossessed him of tunic and surcoat.

So preoccupied with these thoughts was he, that Merlin didn't even notice Gaius approach his bed and stare down at the seemingly unconscious boy whose care had been entrusted to him by his mother. This wasn't the first time he'd failed to protect the boy he loved like a son but this was the first time he was truly mystified as to what had happened to him. The footmen who'd brought him home had given him all the information they had but it was precious little. The Prince had shouted two or three times and then ejected Merlin from his chambers in this condition.

His right shoulder was clearly dislocated though how and when that had happened was a mystery. More concerning to Gaius was the report, second hand from one of the guards standing duty outside Arthur's suite, of dried blood matting the back of Merlin's head and streaked down the back of his neck. Dried blood meant it wasn't a recent injury, so why hadn't Merlin been brought to him before this? What was Arthur's role in his ward's condition?

Gaius had retired to bed long before Arthur would have left the feast and the physician knew that Merlin would not have left the feast in any other manner but at the Prince's side. He hadn't been overly concerned when Merlin wasn't there in the morning. His duties to the Prince occasionally required the lad to remain with Arthur through the night; especially if the older boy had gotten thoroughly drunk as he was often known to do at purely celebratory feasts.

However, Merlin had never returned the next morning half-conscious and badly injured after a simple celebration! If he'd been injured while attempting to protect the prince in some altercation, why had no one fetched the physician to tend to their injuries? Why had Arthur been shouting at Merlin before hurling him into the hall clutching his boots and belt? The older man sighed, knowing he'd get no answers before Merlin was awake enough to answer questions. He could hardly summon the Prince to answer for his ward's condition.

Merlin was sliding deeper into his confusion and barely responded to any of Gaius's verbal attempts to rouse him. It wasn't until the physician attempted to examine the extent of the damage done to his body that he truly woke for the first time since he'd arrived back at his room. The moment Gaius touched his right arm, he arched up off the bed and screamed. Tears streaming from their corners, his wide blue eyes popped open and Gaius could see at once that they were hugely dilated.

"Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me, can you answer me?"

The dazed boy looked at Gaius and whimpered out a small, "Yes".

"Can you tell me what hurts? Where do you hurt, Merlin?"

The raven-haired boy just whimpered, tears still streaming from the corners of eyes that pleaded with Gaius.

"I need you to turn over on your side, can you do that for me, son?"

"No."

"Then I am going to have to do it for you, try to help me if you can."

Just then, Gwen arrived in the doorway. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as soon as her eyes landed on Merlin, laying in his bed softly mewling in agony, silver tears tracking his ashen cheeks.

"Gwen, bless you child. Please, I need your help turning Merlin on his side. I need to examine the back of his head, the guards who sent him here said he was bleeding from there."

Fighting back tears of her own, Gwen assisted the elderly physician in rolling Merlin over. Even though they moved him to his apparently uninjured side, he screamed again as the movement jarred his dislocated shoulder. No longer able to keep her tears from falling, Gwen simply carried on as if her cheeks were dry. She held Merlin in place as Gaius gently probed his blood matted hair. Every small movement of his body forced either a whimper or a loud cry from the injured boy and the blood had formed a thick, sticky clot in his dense black hair, rendering the wound all but invisible to Gaius's careful examination.

"What happened to him?" Gwen gasped around the sob she was suppressing.

"I don't know yet. This is no good, I'm going to have to cut the hair away and I fear I can't do that until I get that shoulder back into place."

He leaned down close to Merlin's ear and spoke softly,"I'm sorry son but there's no help for it. I have to push your arm back into joint and it's going to hurt like nothing you've ever felt before. Just try and hold on and I'll make it as quick as I can."

He instructed Gwen how to hold Merlin in place as he took careful hold of the hanging limb and pulled the arm out straight. Merlin let out the loudest scream yet and kept screaming until his voice gave out. Unfortunately, that was before Gaius had managed to force the joint back together. By the time the job was done, the boy had finally, mercifully passed out from the pain. Once he was unconscious, it made the rest of his examination much easier.

Gwen held Merlin's arm in place as the old healer wrapped it tightly, immobilizing it before turning to the rest of his ward's injuries. Even knowing how little clothing Merlin possessed, they'd had to cut away his tunic. Gwen carefully cut the matted hair from the back of Merlin's head, shearing it as close to the skin as she dared. Even so, it was enough to expose the wound for inspection. The skin was split and as soon as the clotted hair had been removed, fresh blood began to seep steadily from it's edges. White bone glinted through the crimson smear. The physician fumbled for water and his precious magnifying glass.

"Well, we can thank God his skull doesn't appear to be obviously fractured. There may just be a slight hairline fissure, come here child, your eyes are better than mine. Do you see anything?"

"I see a bit of a crack but I think it's just the surface, it doesn't look as if it goes all the way through."

"I'm going to need to sew this closed, can you thread the needle for me?"

The two shuffled about getting Merlin's head wound closed and studiously avoided discussing that during their ministrations to his head and upper body, both physician and temporary assistant had noticed bruising of a specific and suspicious nature over the boys neck, chest, shoulders and abdomen. Gaius knew he'd have to examine Merlin in places no young lady should be exposed to.

"Gwen, would you please see if you can find me either Gruffydd or Hywel? They are the ones who brought Merlin back and both told me they would make themselves available should I need further assistance with him."

The pretty girl, heart aching for this boy she adored, simply nodded and whisked herself out of the room, fighting back more tears as she swiped at her wet cheeks and headed for the servant's quarters.

Gaius bandaged Merlin's head wound while he waited for one of the kindly footmen to return for what was sure to be the hardest examination he'd ever performed in his long career. A single tear from each eye managed to escape the old man's usual iron control as he looked down on the boy who had become for him, the son he'd never had.

"Oh my boy, what has he done to you?" he whispered into the still, quiet air.

After shoving Merlin through the door earlier, Arthur had begun to pace back and forth, walking the full length of his room over and over. He couldn't think, he had to calm down somehow. Less than half an hour after Merlin was gone, the Prince stormed from his rooms and headed for the stables.

Saddling his own horse, he was riding out through the gates of Camelot within minutes, heading straight for the forest. Once among the trees, he let the horse have it's head while he finally felt his heart beat decelerate, his muscles begin to loosen and his brain start to clear enough to function again. Images from the night before began to play in his head: Merlin laughing at the feast, Gwen's arm around his waist, the stunned look on Merlin's face as his head impacted on the door just before he crumpled into Arthur's arms, the smile he gave Arthur as he'd tried to apologize to the younger boy for hurting him, the way Merlin had looked all flushed and trembling, the ecstasy on his face as Arthur moved inside him. He remembered the sounds as well, the gasps and whimpers, the way he groaned Arthur's name, moaned it, sighed it. He remembered Merlin's hand on his face as he told him that his life belonged to his Prince.

It still seemed far too much to process. Last night, after the feast, had been the most amazing night he'd ever experienced. No one he'd ever been with had ever come close to making him feel the way Merlin had. He remembered his moment of revelation, the very second when he'd realized that he was in love with that beautiful, clumsy, sarcastic, disrespectful, sweet, naive, infuriating, loyal, lovely, loving boy. The young man who'd proved he would die to protect him and for whom he'd risked his own life to safeguard in turn.

He had long since acknowledged to himself that Merlin meant far more to him than a simple servant. He'd felt an intense physical attraction to the brash youth since the moment they met. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful even with those rather out-sized ears. Arthur remembered how his breath had hitched and come faster when Merlin had swung for him at that first meeting and he'd grabbed the younger man's arm using it to twist the slender body up against his own. The raven haired boy's continued defiance had only served to fire his arousal higher even as it enraged him.

It was that attraction that caused him to follow the boy when he'd seen him hurrying from the castle only two days later. Clearly intent on some errand for his guardian, it seemed as though he was going to just ignore the Prince and keep walking, even after Arthur had called out to him. No one ignored him! Certainly not some country bumpkin with pretensions of equality to Camelot's prince and premier warrior. So he'd thrown out a taunt the boy couldn't ignore. When Merlin had given him that little half bow, smirking, his sparkling sapphire eyes mocking as they looked up at him through ridiculously long, inky lashes it pushed the Prince even further. Arthur had wanted, more than anything, to grab him, push him up against the nearest wall and kiss those smirking lips until the gorgeous creature begged for mercy. Unable to do that with so many witnesses looking on, he'd challenged him instead and ignited the flames of enmity instead of passion.

It had to be said, he was never bored when Merlin was around. His mind wandered back to the first time Merlin had saved his life. They'd both been horrified when Uther awarded Merlin the dubious honor of becoming the Prince's manservant. He'd decided he would make the aggravatingly attractive boy's life miserable with work so hard and demeaning that he'd quit and head back to whatever backwater village he'd come from. Arthur would then be able to find his peace of mind again. Instead to his astonishment, Merlin had risen to every challenge the Prince could think to throw at him and while he performed every task Arthur ever asked of him, he'd stubbornly refused to act subservient to his lord and master.

It's why he'd trusted Merlin, almost from the moment he became his personal servant. When Merlin told him something, he knew he meant it. He refused to be a "boot-licker" as he'd termed it. He would never just tell Arthur what he wanted to hear, he challenged him and his way of thinking all the time. It wasn't something the young Royal was used to but to his surprise, he'd come to appreciate it more and more as time wore on.

This line of thought brought him back to the night before when Merlin had smiled at him and told him he trusted Arthur with his life, just minutes after the Prince had knocked him unconscious. He'd meant it, he'd meant it when he said his life was Arthur's, all of it. It was that statement that finally broke Arthur's control. He'd been struggling with his desire for Merlin more and more lately, the attraction growing stronger as each day passed. It had scared him badly. He shouldn't want the boy that badly. He shouldn't want anyone that badly. That kind of desire, that level of passion and affection gave too much power to the one it was focused on.

He was the future King of Camelot for God's sake! He couldn't let a servant boy, no matter how good and loyal, hold his heart and soul in the palm of his slender hand. Though that was the problem, wasn't it? Merlin wasn't just a lovely looking lad, he was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside, maybe even more so. He was kind, he was loyal, he was protective and he was always determined to do the "right thing" no matter the consequences to himself. He was always so damn cheerful and optimistic it made Arthur itch to slap him sometimes. How could the boy stand for an entire day in the stocks being pelted with all sorts of rotting vegetable matter and still grin at the guards when they came to release him at nightfall? Even when it was Arthur's fault he'd been punished, Merlin was never truly angry at him. His capacity for love and generosity was something Arthur didn't think he himself would ever be capable of but being around Merlin often made him want to try.

That made the morning just gone an epic failure for Arthur. He'd behaved worse than the Royal Prat that Merlin was always calling him. He'd just been so overwhelmed by the realization of how much he loved his "idiot" manservant, turned friend now turned lover. If Merlin had remained sleeping for just a few minutes more, the morning would have turned out so differently. He'd have had time to deal with the panic and the fear. He'd have realized that loving Merlin wasn't so scary. Merlin would never hurt him, would never use the power of his love against him, never. It wouldn't even occur to him. Merlin had never been anything other than loyal and protective. That protective streak of his was so endearing, like watching a domestic kitten trying to protect a lion from danger.

Suddenly an image of Merlin's face as he'd dragged him from his bed that morning flashed across Arthur's mind. He'd been so desperate to get Merlin away from him in that moment, as if Merlin was suddenly the deadliest foe he'd ever faced in his life. When the boy had just sat there blinking at him and asking what was wrong, he'd snapped. Panic had triggered a fight or flight response in him and he'd chosen fight.

Now, instead of being overwhelmed with fear, he was swamped with guilt. He sighed. He was going to have to man-up and apologize to Merlin when he saw him later. He looked up at the sky and was surprised to see it was gone noon. He'd skipped breakfast for obvious reasons and now that he'd sorted through his confused feelings, he was ravenous. He'd missed lunch but would stop by the kitchens on his way back to his rooms and when Merlin brought him his dinner that night, he'd apologize to him. He still didn't know where his relationship with Merlin stood but at least he'd accepted the fact that he was in love with the skinny idiot.

Author's Note: I reposted this chapter with a small adendum to the medical examination scene after an anon reviewer (thanks Nina!) pointed out that it appeared to the audience that Gaius was seeing Merlin's fractured skull through closed skin. It was clear in my mind that it was an open wound but it wasn't made clear in my original posting. The skin at the back of the skull is quite, quite thin and head wounds do tend to bleed like a bitch so I got a little more graphic about Merlin's wound on the revisit here. Hope this is better!

Thanks for reading! All reviews make the author purr :-)