Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin or any of the characters, though I sure wish I did.
A/N:(Spoilers) for Episode 1x13 Le Morte d'Arthur. Thanks to Pendragon2601 for looking over this chapter for me
The Perils of a Stormy Night
Chapter 9: Memories that Scars Hold
When Merlin finally pulled himself off the floor and exited his room a couple of hours later, he found the quarters outside devoid of both his mother and of Gaius. With a deep breath he walked over to the small wash bowl on the table and carefully wiped at his face, clearing away the dried salty tracks. He felt emotionally spent; the burden of not remembering such a significant amount of your life, or the important and tragic events therein was stressful to say the least.
Slowly he made his way towards the kitchens. It was bad enough he had hidden himself away for such a long period of time. He knew bringing the Prince's lunch late would not help matters. He just hoped his appearance wasn't as bedraggled as he felt because things were strange enough as it was around Arthur.
Despite his slow pace, he soon found himself balancing a tray of rich foods as he knocked on the Prince's double doors. When the muffled "Enter" answered him, he sucked in a lungful of nerves and proceeded to move into the room. 'You can do this', he encouraged himself.
Arthur was watching him as he walked over and set the food down on the table, but he tried to ignore the Prince's gaze and instead focused on positioning the items correctly, just as Gwen had been showing him the day before.
Arthur's breath had hitched when Merlin entered, the skinny man walked silently across the threshold to start preparing his afternoon meal. As his servant leaned over, his shoulders hunched and eyes focus on his task, he couldn't take his eyes off him. He'd do anything about now to see Merlin toss a blinding grin over his shoulder and start running his mouth off with incessant nattering. Truthfully, this quiet veil that hung over them was beginning to become unbearable.
Arthur moved away from the window he stood gazing out of and approached the younger man. Upon closer inspection he felt a rush of unease sweep through him at seeing that Merlin appeared almost haggard, he didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but the aurora around the younger man seemed more sullen than it had earlier and he couldn't help but notice the red rims around his eyes that stood out against the paleness of his skin. Suddenly, Arthur wished his powers of observation were not quite so acute. All he could do was hope he wasn't responsible for the present sadness in his manservant.
With a cough he cleared his throat and reached over to grasp his goblet to take a drink, in hopes it would refresh him and make the dryness ebb. Merlin quietly moved out of his way and pulled the chair out, allowing him to sit down.
"Are you ok Merlin? Are you not feeling well?" He ventured hesitantly, looking up at the man that stood over him through blond lashes. It was evident that the personal nature of the questions cought his servant off guard, for now Merlin was gaping like a fish, his eyes wide and unsure.
"I…I'm fine" he answers when he recovers. The Prince can't help but let the words 'yeah right' sarcastically run through his head, because Merlin's response sounds a little too forced to be most likely true. Merlin was always rubbish at lying about his emotions and he clings to this remaining and still recognizable piece of his friend.
"Are you sure?" Arthur presses. "You seem…I don't know," he gesticulates with a flit of his hand. "…sad or something."
Merlin frowns and looks to finger the loose threads of his sleeve. "I'm just trying to…figure things out. It's all a bit overwhelming…tiring."
"That's it?" Arthur says skeptically. He wants to point out 'Because your eyes are suspiciously red.' But the look on the man's face makes the phrase die on his lips. Merlin nods pitifully and Arthur sighs in defeat and proceeds to eat in silence again.
Minutes pass and soon Merlin quits hovering and slinks off to start sweeping the fireplace. Despite the distance, both men however continue to sneak stolen peeks of each other through their peripheral visions.
After a time Arthur stands and walks over towards his bed, pulling off his tunic as he does so. Merlin's eyes curiously follow him and watches the Prince toss the garment onto the floor. "I wish to prepare for my training. I'll need you to help me with my armor." Arthur informs tonelessly.
'Oh crap!' Merlin thinks as he sits up from his place by the hearth and gives the older man a worried expression. "I…I-" he stutters with a blush of obvious embarrassment.
"Is there something wrong Merlin?"
"It's just…I don't know how to assemble armor. I mean, I'm sure I did, but I don't remember. I'm not…that Merlin anymore."
Looking a mix of sad and understanding, Arthur pursed his lips and nodded. "No, I suppose you're not."
"I'm sorry," Merlin murmured.
The Prince let out an almost irritated snort to go with the roll of his eyes. "What are you apologizing for now?"
"Because this is hard for me and Gaius says it's also hard for everyone else, and I'm sorry that I don't remember how I met everyone, how we talked, how we acted, how things work...I'm just sorry - for making this difficult."
Arthur looked deep into the blue eyes that were looking so intently at him and he couldn't help but give a sincere but fleeting smile of encouragement. "It's not your fault. None of it is, so I expect the platitudes to stop."
Merlin smiled. It was brief and toned down compared to what he was used to but Arthur placed a little bit of hope for the future in that one expression. "Now, come and assist me. I'll show you how everything goes. If you learned it once, you can learn it again."
Merlin walked over and grabbed a clean tunic from the chest, then shuffled over to where the Prince was waiting. With a deep breath he stepped in front of the man and gathered the shirt up and slid the material over Arthur's head. He reached to pull the fabric outward's and allow for the man's arm when the sight of the scar tissue on the Prince's shoulder caught his eye.
And then he was looking at Arthur lying in bed, deathly pale, sweat covering his brow, torso wrapped in bloodstained linen.
Arthur sensed Merlin's hesitation, heard a soft gasp and followed the man's gaze to the pink raised skin that had long since healed. The Prince frowned and looked back at his servant, who was staring. He was surprised to say the least when Merlin lifted a hand and unconsciously pressed his long fingers against the mark, a strange look that Arthur couldn't name appeared on his face, his eyes glazing over.
"Merlin?" he asked in confusion.
Merlin's breath caught in his throat as the sharp pain from earlier struck him again forcefully. 'Oh God! Not again,' With a startled groan he stumbled back, more garbled scenes flittering about his mind.
He saw a hideous creature with the body of a leopard and the head of a serpent. In one precise strike the beast's claws cut across Arthurs shoulder.
He's confused as the scenes shift at a nauseating pace. He saw glimpses of loss and pain, of a journey, a sorceress, of bargains, and recoveries.
He can see Arthur's chambers. The Prince is sitting in a chair, his arm in a sling, a goblet resting in his free hand, the firelight casting a peaceful glow about the room.
"Promise me this…" His own voice echoes. "…If you get another servant don't get a bootlicker."
"Is this you trying to leave your job?"
"No," he denies. "I'm happy to be you're servant - till the day I die."
Arthur looks up at him with an intense calculating look and then the image shifts again - leaving him briefly wondering what the man's response would have been.
Now, there is rain and it pours down in thick sheets, the drops mingling with his tears. "Gaius!" he hears himself say brokenly, his hands clutching to the older man's tattered robes. There was a feeling of great loss that spread through him when he receives no answer. Then with a mighty cry he lets out two bursts of "No-!" up to the heavens, the shouts backed by rolling thunder. His very heart was breaking and he buried his face into his mentor's chest, shocked a few moments later by Gaius's breathlessly murmured "Merlin?"
"Gaius!"He exclaims hopefully. "Gaius, you're alive!" With a smile plastered on his drenched features he hugs the man to him.
"What did you do?" Gaius asked suspiciously.
"Nimueh's dead. The balance of the world has been restored."
"You amaze me. You've mastered the power of life and death itself," the physician panted. "We'll make a great warlock out of you yet."
Merlin sucked in a deep breath and tried to compose himself as the pain released him, leaving him stunned as his vision cleared, his ears still ringing. He groaned as the Prince's face became visible before him, a worried expression plastering his handsome features. Arthur's mouth moved with frantic motions and Merlin fought to hear past the now fading noise.
"Merlin!" Arthur called, clearly in distress. "Merlin what's the matter, what's happening?...Merlin!"
The Prince held tight to his servant's wrists, using his arms to shake the boy's torso. Merlin seemed to be out-of-it, somewhere between a trance and a pain filled haze. Then, almost as quickly as it had started, it was gone and he was peering into eyes that seemed once again somewhat coherent.
"Merlin?" he hissed looking at the boy intently. Merlin blinked a few more times before finally giving the Prince a response, though not the one he had been anticipating.
"I'd be happy to be your servant…till the day I die." Merlin murmured breathlessly, like the phrase itself explained everything.
Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion before a wave of recognition, followed by optimism swept over him. "You remember?" he whispered.
"Pieces," Merlin corrected in a whisper. "I saw flashes of fragmented pieces...I remember that you almost died."
"Yes" Arthur confirmed. "I almost did." He let go of the grip he had on Merlin's wrist and finished maneuvering his arms into his tunic letting the material slip down over his chest.
"Did it hurt you…remembering…the flashes? Has this happened before?"
With a hesitant look Merlin nodded. "It happened this morning. That was the first one; this was the second. It kind of feels like I got kicked in the head by old man Hauffer's mule." Then there was a small smile touching the younger man's lips like he was experiencing the humor of an inside joke of some kind. A small flush spread across Merlin's cheeks and he was ducking his head shyly, reaching for the Prince's hauberk. When Merlin turned away Arthur smiled. Merlin had remembered something, a memory of Camelot, of him. He knew that it wasn't much but he couldn't stop the glimmer of hope that sparked in his eyes.
