Chapter 21

Arthur held onto Merlin as the horse walked the last few hundred yards into the gates of the citadel. They had made home and Merlin was still alive. On the journey back to Camelot there had been times when Arthur had really doubted this outcome.

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When he and the knights had found Merlin lying on the ground in the forest Arthur had known Merlin was dead. No-one could be that silent, that lifeless and yet actually live. He could not bear to approach the body and it was Gwaine who eventually took a deep breath and walked over to the stricken youth.

None of the knights wanted to look as Gwaine turned Merlin over; yet they could not help it. They all stared at the pale, unmoving and damaged body and waited for the inevitable pronouncement. They knew it was coming and they dreaded it.

Gwaine took hold of Merlin's wrist and held it for a few moments and shook his head; he could feel nothing. Arthur's face drained of all colour and he suddenly felt the desperate need to be far away from there. Somewhere else; anywhere else. Someplace where Merlin was alive and well and being his incredibly annoying self. He could not be here; he refused to accept that this was happening.

Gwaine reached up to Merlin's face and pushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. He tried to clean some of the blood off him and moved to straighten Merlin's stained shirt collar. All of a sudden Gwaine's movements stopped and he made a strangled sound and seemed to grab Merlin's neck with some force.

"What are you doing Gwaine?" bellowed Arthur "Leave him be, let him have some peace."

"I can feel a pulse, here in his neck. It's very weak and irregular but it is there, he's not dead." Gwaine grinned (looking as if he'd just entered a tavern and discovered all beer and girls were free for the day). "Arthur, I'm not sure how but Merlin is still alive."

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They had ridden without stopping all day and even into the dusk, Merlin again held onto the horse by Arthur. The Prince's arms were incredibly sore, his burns inflamed and angry and they were causing Arthur much pain as he held his friend. Lancelot had tried to get Arthur to allow him to take Merlin on his horse but Arthur did not even reply to the suggestion. It was for him and him alone.

Merlin's fever had grown as they rode. Arthur could feel the heat coming off the youth's lanky body and the sweat pouring from him. He needed medical help beyond the skills of the Prince and his knights and they had to get to Camelot.

At one point Arthur's horse stumbled and Merlin moaned as the jolt sent a wave of pain through him. Arthur held him tighter and spoke quietly and calmly to him.

"We'll soon be back Merlin, Gaius will have you fit to get back to work in no time. Camelot is not far now."

But instead of settling Merlin those words seemed to disturb him greatly. He began to struggle in his sleep, to feebly try and push Arthur's arms away and he was mumbling something. Arthur leaned forward to try and catch the words and what he heard confused and (if he was going to be truthful) upset him.

"Can't go back...not Camelot...death...not with Arthur...never again...can't go home..."

For the life of him Arthur could not understand what was going on with Merlin, why he seemed so resolute. And Merlin's refusal to return with him, even spoken whilst under the effects of the fever hurt Arthur. But it did not matter because they were back. They were home in Camelot. Arthur refused to dwell on why Merlin had run, why he did not want to return here. It was just shock, that's all; some rest and time to get over it and Merlin would be fine. Afterall Merlin was always fine; nothing every upset him for too long. He bounced back, cheerful, an irritating grin on his face and disrespectful words in his mouth.

But even as he was thinking this Arthur knew it wasn't so true anymore. He could not deny that even he had seen the hurt behind Merlin's eyes quite a few times over the last year. But (apart from that one occasion when Merlin had been cleaning the boots and he'd asked him what was wrong) Arthur had studiously tried to avoid dealing with it. Something told him that this time, if Merlin survived, he would not be able to carry on doing the same.

Pushing aside his thoughts Arthur urged his horse on faster and they entered the courtyard. Immediately there was a flurry of activity, someone took Merlin down from the saddle and Arthur dismounted as quickly as he could.

"Go ahead to Gaius; tell him we are on our way." Arthur instructed Leon, but too late as Gwaine was already racing up the main steps and heading, no doubt for the physician's chambers.

Taking Merlin's battered body in their arms, Lancelot and Arthur carried him quickly but gently to Gaius, hoping and praying he would be able to help.

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A day later and Merlin was in his bed, bandaged, warm, clean but still unconscious. His fever had broken but it had left him dangerously weak and Gaius had despaired at first.

When he'd seen the state his ward was in he had only just managed to gather his wits about him in order to treat the boy. It had been very difficult to see all the scars and wounds but Gaius had called on years of experience and had performed admirably. It was only now, when all the work was done and Merlin was lying in his bed, his fever almost gone, that Gaius had allowed his fears to overcome him. He sat beside Merlin, held his hand and cried quietly.

This was how Arthur found him a little while later when he entered Merlin's small room. Arthur thought again of how much the boy meant to the old man and felt guilt come racing up to meet him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect him Gaius, I tried but..." Arthur put his hand on the physicians shoulder (an incredibly demonstrative action by a Prince who still seemed unbelievable reticent when it came to displays of affection).

Gaius turned and nodded "I know you tried your best Arthur, he's hard to look after...always getting into trouble and thinking he can save everyone and never thinking about himself. Really he can be a fool, can't he?" The last part was said with an exasperated but paternal air. "But he will recover thank God. It will take time and a lot of care and I can do little about the scars he'll bear but he will live."

Arthur sighed with relief. He had spent the preceding night sitting at Merlin's bedside, listening to him moan and watching him shake with fever, whilst Gaius had tried to minister to his own burns. But he'd had to report to his Father first thing in the morning and had left before Merlin's delirium had broken. All through the meeting, as he was telling Uther a version of what had happened, his mind was really back in this room, waiting, watching and hoping. Now he knew. Merlin was going to be alright, and with that Arthur's strength finally gave out and he staggered to the small stool in the corner and sat down heavily. Merlin was going to be fine, really fine. And Arthur smiled; a small, tired smile but the first one in days. Merlin would live.

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"How are you feeling Merlin?"

A voice permeated through his half sleep and Merlin opened his eyes and looked over at Berwin, who was sitting beside the bed.

"Fine...you?"

"That's a blatant lie" thought Berwin!

It had been over a week since they had returned to Camelot and though he was much better Merlin's voice was still hoarse and it hurt to speak so he tended to use as few words as possible. Not that that seemed to matter to Berwin, Merlin thought to himself. "That boy can really talk! In fact he reminds me of me."

"I'm great, nearly healed. Gaius says he might actually release me from this room today. Though I'll be sad to leave, I've learnt so much just from watching him work. He's a really good healer. The stuff he knows about herbs and potions and, well everything. You should see how he can put together a cure quick as anything. Oh, I suppose you've seen that, what with living with him for so long. He's brilliant. I only hope I can be as good."

Merlin gave the boy a friendly smile but turned his head away again, he did not feel up to a conversation with the newly optimistic Berwin. He felt heavy and sick; the worry of Arawan's promise had not left him. He knew that he needed to leave Camelot as soon as he could. His fears over the threat to Arthur and the whole Kingdom lay heavy on him. And a week's rest and recuperation had not eased his disquiet. If anything his concern had grown as no-one would speak with him about it. Gaius had said he was not to be disturbed or upset and so all conversations relating to the events of the week before were strictly forbidden. Gaius himself had only spoken briefly to Merlin about the events of the last few days, so scared he was that discussing it would send Merlin back into shock and illness.

He'd been constantly surrounded by people all the time he was ill, never alone and whilst that should have been reassuring (it was always good to feel cared for) it had been difficult as no-one would talk to him about it. Everytime Merlin had tried to bring it up Gaius, Arthur or whichever of the knights that were sitting with him would refuse to be drawn on the issues and would immediately change the subject. It was driving Merlin berserk. Never alone; but also never able to talk about the one thing that he needed to discuss. It seemed no-one wanted to hear about the threat or the promise. Whenever Merlin mentioned Arawan they all replied the same way "We are sure he is dead Merlin, don't worry." They treated him as if he were a little child who needed the truth hidden from him and who needed protection at all times. Merlin was fed up with never being talked to properly and never being alone...

That was when Merlin really realised something – he truly had not been alone even once sine he'd regained consciousness. There was always someone with him. He could put this down to some overly solicitous care on the part of his friends, but deep down he knew there was more to it. He knew too that it was Arthur's doing. But why? Could the Prince have seen his magic as he invaded Arawan's mind? Was he being held here under a sort of guard while Arthur made up his mind as to what to do with him? For a moment Merlin's heart beat faster as this idea raced through his mind. But no, it couldn't be. There was no way Arthur could have seen; Merlin had had his back towards him. And besides, thought Merlin, Gwaine or Lancelot would not be party to keeping him under guard. No it was something else and it did not take long for him to realise what it was.

Arthur knew what he was planning. The Prince must have heard him speak of it whilst he was rambling with fever. Arthur was trying to stop him from leaving. Now that Merlin was getting better, Arthur feared that he would run, that he would leave Camelot. By refusing to talk about what had gone on and by not acknowledging the threat Arthur was trying to make Merlin feel it was safe. The Prince couldn't really know why Merlin wanted to leave ("Perhaps", Merlin thought with a sad heart, "Arthur thinks I am a coward and want to leave to save myself"). But whatever the reason Arthur was worried that Merlin would go.

And (Merlin acknowledged silently to himself) Arthur was right to worry. For Merlin did intend to leave that night. And to never return,

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A/N Please read and review, let me know how you think this is going...