The Power of Time chapter 4

Finally back!

I had exams and stuff so I took a break from writing, then I watched The Walking Dead and got massively into that.

But here we are, hopefully with more regular updates again!

This chapter's kind of a short filler and the action will pick up again next time.


Arthur was crouched by Merlin's bedside again, poking curiously at his face. "Sire," Gaius said tiredly, "Merlin is not going to wake up any sooner because of your actions."

The King started guiltily, then cleared his throat and straightened imperiously. He joined his hands behind his back and began to stride around the room, looking haughtier than usual. "I am aware of that, Gaius," he said in his most regal voice. "I merely wanted to check his pulse."

Gaius considered telling Arthur that generally a pulse was located in someone's neck or wrist, but then thought better of it. There was no point in arguing with such a clotpole, as Merlin liked to put it. Instead, he grabbed a fresh rag and dipped it in the bucket of water that he kept by Merlin's side constantly. Every hour one of the knights would come in, in some kind of rotation that they'd worked out among themselves, and would replace the water with some fresh from the pump outside the castle.

"Arthur," he said gently, pushing the damp cloth into his hands. "It would help if you could clean his wounds. However small, they could get infected very easily. Regular cleaning will greatly reduce that risk." He set the bucket down next to Merlin's bedside as well.

Arthur nodded, and pulled the blanket aside a little to reveal Merlin's pale and battered side. The ivory hue of his skin only served to accentuate the blue, yellow and green cacophony of bruises that decorated his skin. He winced as he saw it, but set to work dabbing as gently as he could. The small cuts were almost invisible among everything else, so Arthur just swiped softly along the whole of his skin, hoping that he'd managed to get all of the open wounds.

It had been terrifying when he had seen all of that pus oozing from Merlin's wound, when he'd thought that his friend was dying and he couldn't do anything. Thankfully Gaius had been able to do something, but it didn't stop Merlin from being at massive risk still.

Arthur worked methodically to clean all of Merlin's torso, glad to see that the faint sheen of sweat on Merlin's brow was steadily disappearing as the cool water did its job. "Shall I clean his legs as well?" he asked Gaius, startling the old man from his reading.

"Not today," the physician replied absent-mindedly, peering at him through his spectacles. "I wrapped them in bandages just this morning so they're only due for a clean tomorrow."

"Okay." Arthur rinsed the cloth then wrung out the excess water. He fiddled with the rag. He didn't want to leave Merlin's bedside, but he didn't want to just sit there doing nothing either. Eventually he untangled the cloth from itself and laid it over Merlin's forehead, smoothing it down over the heated skin.

A few minutes later Gaius seemed to realise his predicament and brought over a vial with some kind of vile-smelling ointment in it. "Here," he said briskly, efficiently. "I put this on his wounds every night, but doing it in excess can't do any harm."

Arthur took the vial, grimacing at the stink that wafted towards his nostrils, and then reached in to get a heafty dollop on his forefinger. "The cuts or the bruises?"

"Both. Rub it in until it's not visible anymore, Sire. But gently. Merlin's unconscious but he can still feel pain."

For an hour Arthur massaged methodically, making sure to cover every inch of Merlin's skin before moving on. His nose got used to the foul stench and he stopped noticing it, wrapped up in the repetitive massaging motion.

He set the bottle aside when he'd covered all of Merlin's left side to flip him over. He jumped when Merlin spoke drowsily. "Be more gentle, prat."

Arthur struggled for a retort that was sufficiently eloquent and witty, but couldn't find anything. Instead he just said softly, "I'm trying, cabbage-head."

There was a muffled laugh. "My word," Merlin reminded him, before drifting off again.

Arthur resumed smearing on the cream with a small smile on his face.