While he waited, Arthur wiggled his hands again, hissing as the ropes binding them rubbed against broken skin causing pain to shoot up his arms. He could feel the blood practically soaking his wrists and hands as they slid against each other. Just one more injury to catalogue in their growing list.
Arthur suddenly froze, his mind whirling as an idea formed. Ignoring the pain, he moved his hands once again, feeling them slip and slide against one another. It might not be enough but Arthur had no better plan at the moment. He would just have to hope that—and he shuddered just thinking about it—he had bled enough to provide sufficient lubrication.
Gritting his teeth and trying not to jostle Merlin next to him, Arthur worked at the ropes, wiggling his burning flayed wrists until the ropes were pulled exceptionally tight around the widest part of his hands. And he refused to stop there, biting back the winces and pained grunts he so wanted to let free.
"Arthur? What...what are you...doing?" He heard Merlin question from his side, but he just grit his teeth harder and persevered, knowing that if he opened his mouth to respond, he wouldn't be able to mask the pain he was currently putting himself through.
But Merlin, through his own haze, must have seen the agony Arthur was in and why for his voice suddenly got very panicked, "Arthur...stop. No, this isn't...worth it. We'll...we'll find another way. Stop, Arthur! Stop!" But Arthur didn't stop, not until his left hand popped free with a sigh of relief on his part and the rope fell away, useless now.
With a quick glance toward the bandit camp to ensure they weren't being watched, Arthur spun around behind the tree and began undoing Merlin's binds. Merlin for his part, remained silent except for a few winces and gasps here and there when Arthur jostled his arms. But soon, Merlin too was free. Arthur dashed away before he could so much as hiss for him to stop, only to appear half a minute later, his sword bouncing against his hip. Merlin attempted to get to his feet on his own but the endeavor ended with a sharp gasp of pain and a slump to the ground. Arthur wasted no time ducking under his friend's arm and hoisting him off the ground ignoring the bitten-off cry. But Merlin was able to keep quiet enough not to alert their captors of their escape and the two stumbled, hobbled, and bumped their way to the tree line, not daring to stop once they had reached it.
Arthur gripped Merlin's arm tighter, hoisting his friend further up as they continued to stumble through the undergrowth. He had no clue as to where exactly he was but all that mattered right now was getting away. Getting Merlin away.
Thirty minutes later found the two of them breathless from exertion, Arthur from having to support the weight of both of them and Merlin from what Arthur assumed was his broken rib constricting his lungs. It wasn't too worrisome really but if it wasn't bound soon, a little more movement and it could easily punctured his lungs and then where would he be? Well, not alive that's for sure.
Arthur brought their little party to a halt by what looked to be the overhang of tree roots that created a shallow dirt cave in the encompassing dark. He was grateful for it now, as he approached it and brushed aside some bushes in front. The dirt cave wasn't very deep nor tall, but it would provide adequate shelter just big enough for the two of them where they would be fairly hidden from view of any passers by. It wasn't optimal, but it would have to do. For now.
Arthur gently bundled Merlin inside, setting the boy on the dry ground inside beneath a particularly thick root as carefully as he could. Merlin seemed somewhat out of it by now, not even wincing much as Arthur moved him about. He hoped it was just from fatigue and his obvious shortness of breath. Otherwise, there were some underlying injuries that Arthur himself would have no chance at remedying despite his somewhat scattered battlefield knowledge.
"Arthur...you're—you need….to bind those...or you'll...get an...infection...you prat." Merlin wheezed before swallowing audibly, clearly not as out of it as Arthur thought. He rolled his eyes as Merlin tried to reach toward Arthur's still bleeding wrists but not getting far before his ribs begged him to go no further and he settled back with a gasp of pain.
With a huff of annoyance, Arthur moved further into the small space, crouching down beside his friend. "Honestly Merlin, you are not one to talk. Can barely even move an inch without grimacing in pain. Just sit there and shut up while I do all the work."
Merlin didn't respond, which gave Arthur all the permission he needed—not that he would have listened to Merlin had the boy declined but that was beside the point. He extracted himself from his chainmail with great difficulty—really how on earth anyone get these damn things on without manservants he will never know—and his jerkin. Then, taking hold of the hem of his tunic, he ripped it spectacularly much to Merlin's displeasure if the groan that emancipated from the boy was anything to go by.
"I'm the one...who's going...to have to...repair that," he complained in short spurts of breath, sending Arthur one of his annoyed glares. Arthur just ignored him and continued on.
"I'm sorry Merlin, this is going to hurt," Arthur said sympathetically once he had a decent amount of makeshift bandages.
"Just...do it," Merlin bit out as Arthur lifted his tunic as gently as possible. Arthur nodded and from then on they were silent except for a few grunts and sharp gasps from Merlin as Arthur bound his ribs tightly.
Once done, Arthur gave Merlin a once over, checking his head wound for infection. It was more of a small gash than a cut on the back of his head but Arthur had no doubt it was still painful and could potentially be worrisome. But there was no infection to speak of. Yet. Arthur nodded to himself, satisfied for now before tearing another strip of fabric from his tunic.
"I'm fine Arthur...really," Merlin protested, trying to bat Arthur's hands away with clumsy movements but missing entirely. "It stopped...bleeding hours ago."
Arthur just scowled, tutting. "For a physician's apprentice you sure do ignore your own health risks a lot, Merlin. Not a second ago you were berating me on my open wounds. You are not impervious to infection, you know."
"Yes I am aware of that"—he hissed as Arthur's fingers barely brushed over the sensitive wound—"fact."
"Then shut up and let me finish," Arthur gazed behind him, out between the bush that covered their hiding spot, trying to gauge if their escape had been noticed yet.
But not a single movement could be seen or footfall heard. For now, they were in the clear. But he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. "The sooner you are patched up, the sooner we can continue."
"You too...clotpole."
"Shut up." But he ripped off another strip of cloth from his now truly pathetic looking tunic and offered both it and his wrists to Merlin.
"You really shouldn't have done it," Merlin said quietly, avoiding Arthur's gaze and focusing all his attention on the task before him. "We could have found another way. A less debilitating way."
"I am not debilitated Merlin. I am perfectly capable of performing at top form. Dragging your sorry arse all this way should be evidence enough of that fact."
Merlin just shrugged, aborting the movement halfway as it pulled at his rib and tying the last bandage off with a quick tug that made Arthur wince.
He moved his arms, rolling his wrists around to ensure he still retained full mobility. With a satisfied nod, he sat back for a minute, looking about the inside of the dirt alcove. It was dark but a few roots could be seen protruding from the roof, clods of dirt clinging to the ends. Bushes and undergrowth grew just outside the alcove, providing sparse but decent enough cover from prying eyes. Well, from a distance. If one of the bandits were to pass directly in front, there was no way they could miss the huddled men.
Arthur glanced over at Merlin then, noticing the young man was better than before, no longer grimacing in pain with every breath but his breathing had yet to regain a steady rhythm. He was leaning back against the dirt wall behind him, head tilted back and eyes closed, the very picture of exhausted.
Arthur let out a sigh, coming to a quick decision. "I guess this is as good a place as any, really. We might as well rest here for a few hours and continue on once its light."
Merlin opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he glanced over at Arthur. "So close to the camp?"
Arthur shrugged, "They won't expect it." Hopefully he added to himself.
