Huzzah, I'm back! Okay, I honestly meant to finish this after I got back from vacation. Then things got a little crazy (family medical crisis, no biggie), but school's starting back up, and I have my school laptop to work with instead of the stupid Toshiba that belongs to my brother. Shame that they are giving us Dell Chromebooks this year, but oh well. At least the zombie virus does not live on this.
And I still don't know why I insist on reading FanFictions that were completed years ago. More specifically, before the finale. There was one I read the other day that referenced the Legends of King Arthur. As in, they mentioned Arthur's rising from Avalon after his death. This was written a month before the series finale.
Now, I know that I promised bromance. That starts up on the SECOND half of this. Unfortunately, I had to do a little background information. Sorry not sorry. Hey, you get plenty of guilty Arthur, which is almost as good, right?
And this story continues to grow. And nobody, in all of Oz, no wizard that is or was, is ever going to BRING MEEEEEEEEE DOWWWNN!
Who has read The Cursed Child? I know that some fans were unhappy with it, but I for one loved it. It's like reading FanFiction. Scorpius Malfoy is my new favorite character. His friendship with Albus kind of makes me think of the one between Merlin and Arthur. I actually went through and assigned each member of the cast a Merlin character. It worked so well. Scorpius's mother even had trouble conceiving. It was PERFECT! Only no Neville Longbottom for whatever reason *cries*.
-"Gaius Arraigned" by Rob Lane (Merlin)
-"Freya" by Rob Lane (Merlin)
-"Forward to Time Past" by John Williams (Harry Potter ;P)
-"Gwen and Arthur" by Rob Lane (Merlin)
-"The Friends" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)
-"Farewell to Gwen" by Rob Lane (Merlin)
Yep, just Harry Potter and Merlin today
Let's Go On An Adventure
No Regrets
The first thing Evony did to Arthur was remove the rope binding his wrists. The skin was raw from the other night when he tried to break free. Arthur gritted his teeth when Evony slathered the wrists with ointment and wrapped them in white cloth. He had no trust for her. After all, her kindness was but a façade. If she cared, then he and Merlin would not be in this mess.
All the while, Arthur contemplated the antics of his manservant. His absence did not bode well with the prince. More likely than not, he was taken by the pillagers who first kidnapped them for torture. Merlin was not the one who was supposed to be keeping him out of harm; Arthur was. By gods I've failed.
And so, it was a thoughtful and guilt-ridden Arthur who was led from the tents. It was mid-day. To Arthur's surprise, they were inside a village, or at least the remnants of one. Some of the buildings were all but abandoned, coated in years' worth of grime. It seemed that the inhabitants preferred living in a tent.
The majority of the people here were men. They were lanky and muscular with powerful biceps and weapons hanging exposed from their sides. Scars disfigured their faces and other bare parts of the body. Aside from them, there was a small number of women. The way they dressed and carried themselves was so unladylike that it would make all the ladies of the court want to gag (well, perhaps not Morgana). If their hair was not in a pageboy's bob like Evony, then it was up in a ponytail or a braid. Like the men, the females dressed in tunics and trousers.
Children were scarce. In most of the villages Arthur has been in, children chased each other while playing jolly games. In this place, however, he only saw a young pair, probably brother and sister, staring at him with hollow blue eyes and gaunt faces. Arthur shivered, wondering what a pair of children was doing in the company of bandits. Even he could find no reason to blame the set of mini urchins for the circumstances he and Merlin were forced into.
With the exception of the two blue-eyed children, few paid him any attention. They carried on with their daily routine, whether it be carrying water from the well to whoever needed it or it be patrolling the cracked cobblestone streets for rival bandit-gangs. Arthur eyed the latter group closely, looking for the pair of bandits responsible for taking Merlin. No, neither of them were outside, as he had expected.***
Evony guided him to the pump. There was a steady drip of leaking water from the faucet, forming a ocean of a puddle on the ground, even though by all sense, the size should not have been possible from such a little amount. A stack of pewter goblets (all covered in varying levels of dust) and wooden buckets were resting on a wooden table likely salvaged from one of the deserted homes.
Evony took one of the cleaner-looking cups and pulled the pump. After a sputter, lukewarm water trickled into the glass. Arthur felt his mouth water. After all, it's probably been at least twenty-four hours since he has had a proper drink. When the cup was a quarter-full, he felt his fingers tingle in longing, wanting desperately for that drink. Evony did not acknowledge this and continued to fill the cup. When it was half-full, Arthur felt dizzy watching the liquid fall into the mug.
Arthur lost his self-restraint once it was two-thirds the way done. He snatched it from under the pump and drained most of the water in one gulp. Despite its warmness and the thin layer of mud, it seemed cool on Arthur's parched tongue and ragged throat. Evony's scolds of protest were lost on the blond prince. He forgot his woes and his guilts, desiring only for the dehydration to cease.
Arthur thought about the last time he had been without water. It was a little over a year ago, the unicorn incident. He closed his eyes, remembering the famine and drought he and he alone brought upon Camelot. The people of the court drank from stagnant wash-tubs and he himself ate a feeble stew made from rat. However, once he let the 'thief' go, water replaced the piles of sand in the wells. He and Merlin shared a pitcher of water with the intent of rehydrating their bodies and returning the needed strength for the next trial. Not that everything went as planned, but, in the end, Arthur proved to Anhora that he was pure of heart by drinking the poison instead of Merlin.
Just like that, Arthur's inner peace was ended. This time around, he couldn't do anything to stop Merlin from suffering. A talk to his father was useless, and his father's word meant nothing here, anyway. Try as he might, Arthur couldn't find the words to tell his foes the truth that would certainly free Merlin from his torment. There were no fathers to disobey, no potions to drink, and no flowers to pick. This time around, Arthur felt powerless to help his manservant.
"Forgive me," he said stiffly, wiping his chin and trying to hide his conflicted mind.
The female bandit took the cup from his hand and placed it into a tub. "It's quite fine. You were thirsty. However, I was trying to rinse the cup before use that way the taste of dirt was less noticeable."
Arthur couldn't bring himself to miss the taste of fresh, clean water. He just about lost his thirst. The thought of Merlin being tortured alone was enough to make any man lose their appetite. Yes, keep telling yourself that.
"It's fine," he assured with a false smile. "It was well worth the taste in order to actually be able to drink something."
"If you're sure," Evony answered doubtfully. "Onward for our final destination."
From the satchel she wore over her shoulder, Evony extracted a piece of red cloth. He swallowed a lump down his throat. It looked a lot like the stupid neckerchiefs Merlin wore. Arthur knew that it couldn't have been, though. Most likely, the silly garment was lying abandoned on the forest floor, trampled by wild beasts until it was buried inches into the ground.
"What's that for?" Arthur asked even though he already knew the answer.
"Insurance." Right. They didn't want him to know his way to wherever it was they were going. It would make any escape attempts impossible.
Evony looked at him expectantly, running her hand through the scarlet cloth and waiting for permission. How would Merlin act?
To be honest, he would ask questions and complain about being blindfolded. Merlin always seemed to find a way to make things difficult on everyone. But, contrary to what everyone thought at the moment, Arthur was not Merlin, and Merlin was not Arthur. "Do it," he said forcefully. He wasn't going to make things worse. For now, he'll act compliant until he can strike.
Based on the twists and turns and the shifts in the ground, Arthur guessed that he ended up descending several flights of stairs and was probably in the midst of a labyrinth. Even though Arthur will not admit it, he grudgingly allowed the woman to steer him down the path. His eyes were closed off from the world, so the only sense Arthur relied on right now was his hearing.
And he regretted it. As they turned each corner, he would hear the echo of a scream. Some were high-pitched, some were low. At least half of them came out as raspy gasps while the rest were submissive moans. Arthur could not help but think, Do any of these belong to Merlin?
He did not want to think about the pain Merlin surely must have been feeling. Gods, what has he done to deserve this? Then he answered himself. Nothing. He's done nothing except be an idiot. Arthur was more than willing to take Merlin's place, as things should have been.
But if things were as they should have been, then Merlin would have been the one shot with the arrow. Arthur did not know how Merlin's body would have been able to deal with an injury of that extent, but things were far worse now as consequence, getting out of control. Arthur typically did not get worried, so what was that feeling in the back of his mind?
Guilt. As the screeches of pain traveled the halls, Arthur was reminded of what happened. The subtle ache in his shoulder was nothing. He could scarcely imagine what the unfortunate souls were going through to force them to shriek as they did.
One gasp of pain stood out, nearly forcing Arthur to stop in his tracks. It couldn't have been Merlin. But Gods, it's so close! Arthur's heart pounded out of his chest at the thought, knowing that Merlin was somewhere in these walls being tortured by bandits for information he would not nor could not give.
Again, it should have been Arthur in there. What could possibly make Merlin think that this was a good idea? Arthur was trained to have a high tolerance of pain, both physical and emotional. Merlin deserved to be the one being brought to a prison cell where he'd be safe, fully fed and hydrated. Arthur hated this situation. Where was the idiot?
"Arthur, you are my only son and heir. I can't risk losing you for the sake of some serving boy."
"Because his life's worthless?"
"No, because it's worth less than yours."
Eerily, Arthur knew that this conversation would have taken place if his father knew about the situation. Uther simply did not care. In fact, he would have applauded Merlin for taking Arthur's place. More screams.
Arthur disagreed with his father. Merlin was a person, even though the king was loathe to see or acknowledge it. This should have never happened to begin with.
His legs stopped moving. Evony released him from her grasp. With tender care, she untied the blindfold from Arthur's eyes. The blond was met with a sudden brightness, but it rapidly dulled as the only light came from a torch, providing a flickering orange light outside the metal door. A lone dark-skinned guard already stood in position, staring ahead and clutching a sharpened spear. Arthur grudgingly admitted to himself that he could give the Camelotian guards a run for their money.
He peered through the iron bars coated in rust. There was a pallet of hay on one side of the cell. On the other, there was a simple bed with a pathetic mattress and a pillowcase stuffed with hay. There was also a blanket that was probably nibbled on by rats. No, not probably, was eaten by rats. Arthur could have sworn that he saw the tail of one of the foul creatures disappear in a hole in the wall.
Evony took a key from the folds of her cloak, and, with a steady hand, she unlocked the cell door. It opened with a creak. Then she turned to Arthur, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Look, the offer still stands. We can surely find some better accommodations for you if you only ask."
Arthur cringed at the dingy dungeon, yet his mind did not change. "Can't we both just stay somewhere more comfortable?"
Evony smiled dryly. "'Fraid we can't do that. We can't afford for His Majesty to pass out between dungeons. We're closer here than with the tent, so he won't have to travel as much, and there will be less strain on his body. Now, let me take a look at your shoulder." She guided him into the cell and to the makeshift bed. The door shut behind them.
Arthur did not trust Evony with his wound. He couldn't. However nice she might seem, she was still the enemy. She was still responsible for Merlin. "I'd rather not."
She gave him an indignant look. "What am I going to do, guarantee it will become infected? Come on, you can't help anyone if you don't help yourself."
She was right. In a few short hours, Merlin will be led inside. Arthur could not anticipate what condition he would be in, but he was likely going to need some help. He sighed and attempted to remove Merlin's jacket. However, as it was a few sizes too small and Arthur had to do it one-handed, the feat proved difficult. Smiling curtly, Evony decided to help him with his struggle. She gently tugged at the sleeve of his right arm until it was freed and did the same with the left. If the bandit was suspicious of Arthur's brawny build, she did not voice her questions.
Evony pulled down the top of Arthur's tunic, respecting his privacy but still giving her access to the shoulder. It was already wrapped in cloth bandages, yet they were stained red with blood.
"I noticed yesterday when I checked your wound, but that bandaging is impressive. How did this happen, if I may ask?"
Arthur was glad that Merlin was Gaius's ward, because he had no doubt in his mind that it was him. At least the idiot can do one thing right. "Camelot has one of the finest physicians in the Five Kingdoms. You pick things up."
She raised her eyebrow. "There's no way you could have done this." She paused as Arthur realized what he'd done: he put suspicion on Merlin. He wanted the bandits to stay ignorant and think that Merlin hated Arthur. "Was it the prince?"
Not trusting himself to speak, Arthur looked down and nodded. He wondered why he didn't just say the truth. It was as though there was a mental block preventing him from saying anything incriminating.
It terrified him.
"Why didn't he just leave you?" Evony wondered as she unraveled the used bandages from his shoulder. A bruise had formed, shining purple against the pale skin. Dried blood clotted over where the arrow punctured him.
"I don't know," Arthur murmured, lost. "When I get an answer myself, you'll be the first to know."
Of course, he knew the reason Merlin gave him: his father would have had Merlin arrested at the very least. However, Arthur did not believe that. It might not have even been because Merlin called Arthur his friend. It had to have been something more, but Arthur had yet to find out what that reason was.
Evony doused a piece of white cloth with water and started wiping away the crusty layer of blood. "It must be hard dealing with him each day."
With his stubbornness? You have no idea. "Sometimes," he chuckled sadly. He's never admit to it, but he missed the manservant.
"Sometimes?" Evony gave him a look, pausing at cleaning the shoulder blade.
Arthur bit his lip. "But usually I put up with him because it means that I will be treated like a real person."
Evony frowned. "Except his definition of a "real person" is warped. All he sees you as is a servant, just like with all nobles."
That was a lie. Arthur wanted to call her out on that. Sure, when he was younger, he did have a tendency to mistreat servants, but he thought that it was all for fun. Then Merlin made him change his views. Arthur saw Merlin as a human being, so that claim had to have been false. Right?
However, Arthur could not deny that he was the one who forced Merlin along on this hunting trip. Every day, Arthur gave Merlin a list of impossible demands, and Merlin was the one who had to put up with Arthur whenever he acted like a prat. Arthur knew that Merlin did not necessarily enjoy all of this, yet he still did it. Arthur took him for granted.
However, Merlin was still a person. At least Arthur acknowledged it to some degree. He wasn't like his father. "No, that's not right," he muttered. "I'm not like that anymore, am I?"
"Pardon?"
Arthur realized that he must have said the last part aloud. "Sorry?" Arthur said, feigning confusion.
"I thought you said something."
Arthur shook his head quickly, acting on impulse and not on common sense. The motion could be regarded with skepticism and all would be to naught. "No, I didn't say anything." The blond paused, trying to find a way to put Merlin in a better light without giving anything away. "But, to be honest, he isn't that bad. You don't know him like I do. He'd put his life down for anyone."
Evony finished wiping away the excess dried blood and proceeded to wrap Arthur's wound. With as much coldness as she could muster, the blonde woman accused, "What proof do you have, then?"
Arthur wished that he could tell her. He wanted to remove that contempt from her voice as she spoke of Merlin. He's saved Arthur personally a couple times. There was the instance with Lady Helen and the knife. The poisoned chalice that never seemed to leave Arthur's mind. His words of advice on nearly every other occasion whilst the prince was in danger, usually a warning not to trust someone later revealed to have wanted Arthur dead. Merlin would have drank the poison offered by Anhora to save Arthur, only it was later proved to be a simple sleeping draft. He was sure that Merlin had some hand to play in his recovery after the Questing Beast. And it was not just Arthur. Merlin went as far as to claim he had magic to save Guinevere from a fiery death. Arthur was sure that Merlin would have also claimed magic to protect Will if his friend had not died. As Gaius's ward, he's helped nearly everyone in the castle from a potentially fatal injury or disease.
Yet Merlin never stopped doing what he did best: being Merlin. He's risked his own safety so many times that it gave Arthur pause. How could he explain all this to someone who would disbelieve anything Arthur said about the so-called "prince" about being a kind and loyal boy?
Interpreting Arthur's silence as submission, Evony tightly wound the cloth around Arthur's shoulder with a grimace. "You'll come to terms soon enough." She finished wrapping the arm. "Well, your shoulder's on the road to recovery. I'll leave you unbound because we're not the bad guys. You'll soon see that."***
Oh, Arthur completely disagreed with her. Of course the bandits were the bad guys. Did she not hear the agonizing screams down the corridors? Torture was never the answer. Even King Uther saved it only for the worst of criminals, not a harmless serving boy playing prince. If he could, Arthur would get up right now and throttle Evony for ever thinking that Merlin was a terrible person. He was not even sure if he could hold back on the actual guards who have physically harmed the boy.
Almost as if sensing his inner turmoil, Evony warned with exasperation, "Don't try anything stupid." Then she left.
Arthur stared as the door was latched shut. There was an audible click as it locked. Escape was nearly impossible. He did not know where in the dungeons he was. Hell, he did not know where Merlin was. A shiver ran down the prince's spine. Why did he not tell Evony the truth? All these opportunities he had, it was almost as if he didn't want to.
But that was ridiculous. Arthur was trained to handle pain. Merlin was not. It was clear which roles belonged to whom.
His right forearm tingled. Arthur disregarded it at first, but a sense of unease remained as a shadow of his mind. What was that? It was almost like that jolt that woke him from his slumber, only worse. Arthur put aside his qualms involving Merlin for a moment to ponder the unnatural feeling. Then it changed to guilt as he realized that it paled in comparison with what was going on with Merlin.
No, princes don't feel guilt, least of all for a servant. Not worry either. It's just a healthy concern. Right?
Arthur returned back to reality at the sound of the door opening. He did not bother attempt to make a run for it when he saw the unfortunate boy being shoved ruthlessly inside. Merlin was drenched from skin to bone. Gods he is pale. His left arm was strapped to an iron belt behind his back. As for his right arm, it was dangling uselessly at his side. The skin was blue and red, swollen to the max. Arthur felt the urge to vomit. There was no doubt in his mind that it was broken.
All Arthur could feel was sympathy and anger. Sympathy for the servant being dragged into this mess. Anger for those who dared hurt Merlin. A lump rose up Arthur's throat.
Merlin landed on his disabled arm and grunted loudly. Arthur stared in horrifying fascination at awkward position of the broken bone. He could hardly imagine the godforsaken pain that must have coursed through Merlin's body. This could have been him. This could have been Arthur's arm brought to ruin. Yet it wasn't.
"You can stare all you like, it's not going to get better on its own." Arthur winced at the croak that came out, no doubt a result from crying out. Merlin was staring back, still on the floor. His eyes had already begun to sink in.
Arthur stepped forward and pulled up the serving boy with gentleness. "But that's going too far. Your arm looks worse than... Leon's after the joust." Worse than mine did after the Questing Beast.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Merlin smiled meekly. "It could have been worse."
Flabbergasted, Arthur spat out, "Could've been worse?! Your arm is swollen to the point that you can't even wear a proper shackle, instead being forced in some chain connected to a belt. Your fingers are fractured, probably both your radius and your ulna as well. You are practically useless." He did not mean for any of this to slip out. His meager apology died on his lips despite the look of hurt shot by Merlin at him.
"Yet I'm still breathing. It's better me than you. You have a better chance at getting out and getting help." Merlin shifted. He was unable to disguise the cringe that carried over his lips and took over his face.
"Except they have guards stationed everywhere," Arthur pointed out, his eyes travelling in disgust to the broken arm of Merlin, "and you know my father. He wouldn't send help." Not for a useless serving boy.
Merlin nodded glumly. "You're probably right."
Arthur felt another wave of fault. Merlin did not even try to deny what was the truth. Arthur very much doubted that he would be able to get his father to back him up on this and send the knights. Leon might follow him, and Lord knows that Morgana would find a way to follow. Guinevere might even come. Gaius would send his blessings if not coming himself despite his age...but that was it.***
He loathed the sickening image of the broken arm. Arthur wanted it to go away, but even while he closed his eyes, he could see it. It was a shattered, bloated mess. The fingers were far too stiff, and the arm was far too limp. In his eyes, no man was deserving of this fate, least of all Merlin. However, the raven-haired boy was stuck with it. It would take months for it to heal.
"Can you move?" Arthur whispered as his eyes darted over to the pile of clean bandages Evony left behind close to the bed. He did not remember getting up, distinctly remembering his legs moving to the bench.
"Yeah," Merlin answered warily, his voice coming out strained. "It was not my ankle they broke."
"Then get over here, idiot, and let me treat your arm."
Merlin cocked his head. "Didn't think you cared."
Hastily, Arthur defended his pride. "I don't. I-um..." He struggled to find an excuse for his concern. "Your arm. It makes me sick just looking at it. I'm going to vomit."
Merlin snorted, blowing the hair out of his face. His voice took a teasing note. "Whatever, prat. And here was I thinking that you were about to show a nicer and more emotional side of you."
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said while the tips of his ears turned pink, "and get over here."
Merlin scooted over in a daze. Arthur was careful in lifting him up from under the arms so that he was next to him on the metal bed. He had Merlin hold the arm against his chest. Merlin knew better than to refuse, but that did not stop the hushed gasp that escaped his lips as he grasped the broken limb. Arthur did not know entirely what he was doing, but he started wrapping the arm anyway in the cloth. He had to stabilize the broken bone, else it would become infected.
Arthur was surprised when Merlin spoke. "I don't regret it, you know. Saving your life."
Arthur found himself scoffing as he draped the arm in bandages. "It wasn't my life that was at stake this time around, Merlin."
His voice dead serious, Merlin responded, "I wasn't talking about now."
Arthur frowned. What else could he mean? "Then what time are you talking about? The time with the witch impersonating Lady Helen, or the poison?"***
Merlin's eyes became dazed. "Both...neither...it doesn't matter, does it? I don't regret anything...and you shouldn't either."
Arthur looked down at the arm he was treating. The words stung at his heart. "I don't regret pushing you out of the way." And he didn't. There was still a dull ache in his shoulder, and it gave Arthur a sense of control in knowing that he chose this fate. It dawned on him what Merlin was going to say next.
"I wasn't talking about that, either. You just regret how easy it made it for me to impersonate you." Arthur left fist tightened because that was the truth. "Which, by the way, I am doing a fantastic job at."
Arthur mumbled, "I find that hard to believe."
"Oh yeah?!" Merlin's voice rose, and Arthur looked at his face in shock. There was a sneer on his face, one that the blond prince never thought possible on his bubbly servant. "Well, maybe if you actually paid attention, you'd notice things. But wait, you are so thick that everything slips right past you. And you're doing a terrible job at wrapping my arm, by the way. I could do better one-handed than whatever it is you're doing. I don't know why I put up with you for so long. I swear, you're an accident waiting to happen."
Arthur's fingers froze. Muttering so that he did not yell, Arthur replied, "Excuse me?" In answer, Merlin grinned goofily, the anger gone from his eyes. Oh, he was faking it. "Oh, I get it." He resumed binding Merlin's arm. "I don't act like that."
Merlin was no longer showing obvious signs of pain. "No, you just act like a prat."
A ghost of a smile danced on Arthur's cherry-lips. "A prat who holds the power to put you in the stocks for a fortnight."
Cheekily, Merlin bantered, "Except my wrist probably cannot handle the strain. Besides, rotten tomatoes don't agree with bandages."
Arthur felt more relaxed. "One-handed, then, and we can find a potato sack to protect the other arm."
Merlin snickered, devious musing in his eyes. "Well, I'm sure Gwen will very much appreciate you for sending a wounded man to the stocks just for damaging your pride."
Arthur blushed. Guinevere certainly would not approve of Arthur if he actually went through with it. Which he wouldn't, but no need to tell Merlin that. "One week, and we wait for when you're healed up and ready to return to work."
The friendly banter died down with the haunting words Merlin spoke next. "If I get better."
"You will," Arthur said sternly. "I command it."
"Since when have I ever listened to anything you say?" Merlin argued.
Arthur gave him a scornful look. "Obey me now, Merlin. I'm ordering you."
"It's not my decision." Arthur saw a flash of fear in Merlin's cobalt eyes. "Sirs Big and Ugly are the ones who choose what to do to me."
Arthur took a moment to tilt his head and pinch his noses. "Don't tell me that they know you call them that."
"Okay, I won't!" Arthur scowled at Merlin, who was feigning cheerfulness.
"Gods, Merlin!" Arthur scolded. "They will only make things worse for you."
"Kind of got that when they stole my bread."
Arthur shut his eyes and inhaled. "They stole your bread?" What the hell, Merlin? He exhaled loudly through his mouth.
"Yeah," Merlin confirmed, seemingly ignoring the impatient look his master was giving him, "and when I asked for water, well..." Merlin let go of his broken arm, though why he was still holding it in place since it was now bound to his chest Arthur could not say. With a shaking left hand, Merlin gestured at his dripping wet hair.***
Arthur was this close to smacking Merlin, the bruises around his cheeks being the only reason he didn't. "So that is why you're wet." He guffawed. "Honestly, Merlin, you have to learn to keep your mouth shut."
Arthur had hoped that Merlin would take the hint; he could do with some quiet to allow for some concentration. However, Merlin retorted, "Like you do any better. If you had your way, roles would be swapped."
Arthur blinked. "At least then things would be the way they should be." The guilt came back. Forget princely standards. Arthur was, no, is at fault for this. Why bother deny it?
"Things never turn out the way you think they should, but in reality, they do." Merlin sounded tired. His throat was hoarse and croaky, yet the words were strong and powerful. Arthur had an inkling that he should listen to Merlin.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The edges of Merlin's mouth curved downward. "After all these years, you would think that I would know my path, yet things always happen that don't go to plan. However, I feel like I was supposed to pretend to be you. It just feels right; I can't describe it, Arthur. I think that right now, things are as they should, even if you beg to differ."
It was times like this when Merlin actually sounded wise beyond his years. His eyes had that distant look in them, yet they had the potency to bore into Arthur's soul. Arthur was almost shaken, yet he could not admit that Merlin might have been right. "You're delirious," he said simply. "Did they drug you to force you to comply."
Merlin glared daggers at Arthur. "I'm serious, you clotpole."
Arthur grumbled, "Course you are." He looked down and realized that he was finished bandaging Merlin's broken arm to his body. "Are the bandages too tight?"
Evidently, Merlin was prepared to argue more with Arthur. "No, really, I-" Then he caught on. "What?"
Slowly, like speaking to a young child, Arthur repeated, "Are. The bandages. Too tight?"
Merlin stuttered incredulously, "They-they're fine," and his eyes traveled to the white cloth draped snugly over his arm, "but don't-"
Arthur interrupted conveniently, "I think I can make a decent sling for your arm, if I do say so myself."
Coldly, Merlin said, "Arthur."
Pretending not to hear Merlin's protests, Arthur continued, "Hopefully the bandits won't disregard my work. Besides, Gaius should be able to properly look at your arm when we get back."
"Arth-"
Arthur cut him off yet again. "And please refrain from insulting them further to their face. They will punish you again." He stood up and started towards the straw pallet on the floor. "Got to keep up appearances.
"Arthur!"
"Shut up, Merlin!" Arthur growled. He sank down to his knees on top of the hay, wrapping a pitiful blanket around his legs.
Merlin glared down at him from where he was still sitting. He was seething. "No, listen to me you prat! When will you ever accept that it's not your destiny to protect me?!"
"When will you?!" Arthur snapped.
That effectively shut Merlin up. However, judging by the pained expression in Merlin's eyes, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if it was something he said.
And there you have it. Not much action, but both injuries are treated somewhat. Amazing Arthur and Merlin banter. Next chapter, we go back to torture. I have all the torture planned out now. My sister stared at me in horror when I asked her this certain question and then explained.
I have a sword now! It's named Excalibur, and I love it with all my heart. It's a little small (23.5 inches/59.69 centimeters). It's still pretty cool. I also have a pocketknife, and my next goal is a combat pocketknife. And if it has a dragon on it, I will go insane.
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Can we make it to 100 followers by next chapter? Pwetty pwease? Love you all, and have a good day/night :)
~Lya200~