A/N: No one guessed :(
I'll keep playing though, even if I'm the only one.
Chapter 11 will be titled "Favored"- any theories?
This one changed a bit from what I originally had planned so the title isn't quite as meaningful as I had intended, but it still works.
Barreling into Arthur he almost managed to get them both out of the way in time- in fact, he thought he had until he felt a line of white-hot pain slice across his thigh.
He cried out as he fell to the floor, clutching at the wound and soon becoming lightheaded from the rapid blood loss. Keeping one hand clamped down on the relevant pressure point he struggled to remove his neckerchief with the other, watching Arthur all the while.
The king, only temporarily put off-balance by Merlin's charge, turned quickly to meet the assassin.
He had heard his servant shout in pain but forced himself to focus on his opponent.
They traded blows for only a few moments before Arthur impaled the man and whirled to check on his friend, face draining of color as he did so.
Merlin was lying on the cold stone floor, blood pumping out of a deep gash on his thigh as he weakly attempted to tie his neckerchief around his leg above the wound.
"Merlin!" He crashed to the floor at his side, pressing his hands against the cut and drawing another cry from his servant. "Guards!"
Two of Camelot's finest came rushing around the corner, taking in the red-washed scene with horror.
"Don't just stand there! Get Gaius!"
The guards bowed before taking off at a run.
"Merlin, what should I do?"
Please let there be something I can do.
"Need to make... a tourniquet."
His voice is so weak!
The pale eyelids started to drift closed and Arthur panicked a little (not that he would ever admit that).
"Stay with me Merlin! You need to tell me what to do, I don't know how to make a tourniquet."
"Find... a stick... something like that..."
The royal cast about desperately, Merlin was fading fast.
"Will this do?" He asked, pulling a scroll from his belt- a speech he was supposed to be giving that afternoon. A speech Merlin had written.
"Tie it... to my scarf... tightly."
Arthur did as instructed and waited expectantly.
"Now, twist it... until the bleeding stops."
The servant's voice was so slight he could barely be heard and as he finished giving the directions he seemed to relax, head sinking down onto the floor with a soft 'thud'.
Concentrating on his task, the king didn't notice Merlin had passed out until he had finished tightening the tourniquet and looked up for the next step.
"Merlin? Merlin, you can't do this to me- wake up!"
He wanted to shake him, but knew he shouldn't let go of the scroll.
Arthur had just started cursing when the guards returned with a frantic-looking Gaius.
"Gaius!"
Distress was evident in his voice, but he was beyond caring at this point.
The elder dropped to his knees and reached forward, securing the scroll with the loose ends of the neckerchief. Examining the wound and noticing that it had mostly ceased bleeding, he nodded.
"You've done well, Sire, but we need to get him to my chambers."
"Of course. Guards, take him- gently!"
Arthur followed behind the other three, taking a moment to gather himself before asking "Will he be okay, Gaius?"
Turning back around to observe the crimson pool where his ward had lain the physician answered "I hope so, Sire."
Then he took off at a speed appropriate for a much younger man.
Arthur stared, fixated, at the blood and hugged himself for a moment before heading after the group.
Merlin would be fine. The alternative was just unthinkable.