AN: So. I've been out of practice for a long time. Life just got busy- for a decade, lol. Wow. Anyway. I'm a firm believer there is a silver lining to the darkest of clouds. Covid 19 has afforded me something I haven't had for a long while- time. So, I did what many have been doing- binge watching my favorite shows. Eventually, it had to come back to Merlin, and it reminded me of a concept I'd had a long time ago.

I started typing, and here we are. I will admit, I have always, always been a lover of Slash, and Hurt/Comfort. Everything about Arthur and Merlin just begs for both. So. In this first foray back into old territory, I will confess to allowing myself complete and utter self-indulgence. MerlinWHUMP and Protective/Caring Arthur is the entire point. Any resemblance to plot is completely secondary.

Fair warning: It's LONG. I have not forgotten my pledge however, and you can rest assured, it is FINISHED before I ever posted the first Chapter! It will not be abandoned. Light spoilers for the entire series hinted at. I did, however, create an alternative timeline. So. Some Cannon, some not so much. Hope you enjoy and please be forgiving. It's been a while.

Arthur woke with a deep, ragged howl- an overwhelming sense of grief and despair filling him. He couldn't breathe. For a moment, he didn't want to. The thought of taking even one more breath to prolong this agony was something his mind skittered from. Pain shivered through every part of him, as if pieces of himself had been torn away. Darkness was enfolding him as the light of his soul was snuffed out.

He blinked when he heard the door to his chambers open, and then focused on the sun that was shining through suddenly open curtains. His curtains. He shifted, feeling the softness of his own bed beneath him, not the cold, muddy ground of a grassy clearing.

"Well, you're awake early," Merlin chirped happily, moving to the breakfast tray he had brought in before opening the curtains.

A dream. It had been a dream. He touched his face, surprised to feel it wet with tears. Who had he been grieving for? The details were already fading, becoming foggy as reality and wakefulness took hold. But that incredible sense of loss stayed with him, clear as day. As did the sense that the dream had taken in a shared lifetime. The details weren't important, but he somehow understood he was meant to remember these feelings.

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned. "Are you all right?" He frowned as he took in the dazed look and the tear tracks of his King.

Arthur nodded, wondering if his still too tight throat would ever open again. His heart still felt like it had stopped, and was being crushed. And breathing... he needed to breathe.

He felt the bed dip beside him as Merlin sat on it, felt warm hands encase his bare shoulders. "Arthur!" Merlin called again, concern easy to read in his voice and face. "You're shaking. Do I need to get Gaius?" But the servant didn't wait for an answer, those warm hands immediately beginning to roam to check for pulse, fever, and/or any injuries. Arthur found he was able to draw in a deep breath. Then he did it again. Hands as familiar to him as his own in many ways seemed to wash the despair from every spot they touched.

"I'm fine, Merlin." Arthur wanted to tease him, to joke, but looking at the worried eyes of his friend- something tugged at him. Some memory from the dream. He pushed it aside. "Really, I'm fine."

Merlin sat back, studying him closely, but nodded. He had no choice but to take Arthur at his word since he could find no physical indication of what had caused the upset. He jumped up. "Right then. Something to eat should fix you up. Then you have a meeting to go to."

"Have you ever experienced loss, Merlin?" Arthur asked suddenly, happy that his voice came out strong. He noted how Merlin froze in his task for a moment, before continuing to load the plate.

"Yes, Sire. I have."

"Do you... " Arthur hesitated, but he had always shared thoughts with Merlin he would share with no one else. "Do you ever dream of them?"

Merlin hesitated again, but then nodded. "Frequently." He brought the plate over to the newly crowned King, understanding in that way he always somehow did that Arthur wasn't ready to leave the safety of his bed just yet. "Is it your father? It's only been a few days since the funeral. Grief takes time to heal."

Arthur thought as he used the diversion of popping a tomato in his mouth. It could be. It would make sense, but somehow, that answer didn't sit right. He loved his father, was fiercely loyal to him, and grieved deeply for him. But theirs had always been a complicated relationship. The loss in his dream had been of someone he had been soul bound to, someone who gave him reason to breathe every day.

He had never loved like that, he didn't think. Like the loss of them would put an end to everything that had ever held meaning to him. "Perhaps," he answered his servant vaguely.

"You know I'm here, Arthur," Merlin offered shyly. "If you ever need to talk."

Arthur smiled around his mouthful. Of course he was. Merlin had always been there. It took genuine effort to remember a time when he hadn't been. A steady rock in the constant upheavals that had been his life as a Prince. He hoped his Kingship would go much smoother. "Thank you, Merlin." Then he blinked. "A meeting? With who?"

Merlin rose then, and Arthur hadn't realized he'd sat on the edge of the bed again. "The Council, of course. With Uther gone, now it's time for the infighting to begin. They all want your approval," Merlin grinned at him. "Your royal arse will be the cleanest it's ever been by the time they finish kissing it."

Arthur laughed in spite of himself. "Merlin, you're not supposed to say such things," he admonished half halfheartedly. But of course Merlin would, at least in the privacy of the royal chambers. Once they left it, the servant would be the picture of respect to those of higher station. "And after the meeting?"

"I thought it best to rearrange your schedule so that you could go beat up some of the Knights in Training," Merlin answered with a smile, bending to pick up the laundry from the floor. "Take the edge off."

And so the day progressed, the dream getting further and further from Arthur's mind until it had been all but forgotten. Merlin's foresight into changing the schedule had been dearly needed by the time the King left the Council Chambers. He was perhaps a little harder on his Knights than he needed to be, but obviously Merlin had prepare them beforehand. All gave as good as they got, and Arthur walked away from the session feeling fresh, and proud of his Knights.

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"Arthur, I'm getting worried about you," Merlin said gently, when Arthur woke crying out yet again. It was becoming a daily ritual now. "I wish you'd let me tell Gaius."

Arthur ran his hand over his face, wondering if he should let the servant tell the physician. Two weeks of this had left him exhausted. And always the same. Always the details would fade as soon as he opened his eyes, but that world ending sense of loss stayed with him.

"It's just dreams, Merlin."

"Dreams can be potent, Sire. Many believe that recurring dreams are a message, often a warning."

Arthur frowned at his servant. "You've already talked to Gaius," he accused.

Merlin held up his hands to placate Arthur's irritation. "Gaius thinks I'm the one having bad dreams, I swear. Though if you don't resolve this soon, that lie won't take long to uncover. You look terrible."

Arthur sighed, lacking the energy to scold his friend. "And what advice does he give you?"

Merlin hesitated. "It doesn't help, Arthur, that my life and yours have been very different in a lot of ways. And as I don't have details to give him... he doesn't say much, other than to talk to you about some time off, that I'm working too hard."

Arthur snorted out of habit. "Hardly working, you mean." He smiled when Merlin stuck out his tongue at him. These tiny bits of normal were becoming more and more precious to him. With nearly everyone in the castle seeking the favor of the new King, it was refreshing to have Merlin be smart with him, to treat him the same as he had always done. Wildly inappropriate and occasionally frustrating though it was.

Still. Maybe there was something to Gaius's misunderstood advice. It was becoming quite the burden. He knew how to rule the kingdom, but the inner politics were exhausting him, and beginning to grate on him. The castle walls had never felt so isolating.

"Maybe he's not wrong," Arthur mused aloud. "Maybe some time off is needed. I haven't been hunting since... well. For some time."

Merlin winced. He wanted to offer his friend sympathy, but knew deep down that wasn't what Arthur needed. One more toady stepping lightly around him was the last thing the King needed. So he snorted, and opted for normal. "Why is it every time you need time away some poor innocent animal has to die?"

Arthur laughed, and reveled in how good the standard and anticipated response felt. "We'll leave tomorrow. Prepare for... three days? Yes. That should be enough without being gone too long. We'll return before my Uncle arrives."

"Sire, are you sure? These things never go to plan, and Morgana is still active. She'll take advantage of what she considers to be a weak position," Merlin pointed out.

Arthur threw a pillow at his servant, but couldn't argue the boy was right. "It's a chance we'll have to take. To appease you, Merlin, we'll take some Knights. How's that?"

It was as good a concession as the servant was going to get, so he nodded, bowed, and excused himself to prepare their supplies.

Arthur watched him go, and tried to quell the dark feeling inside him that this was a mistake. That this trip, right now, would cost him everything he held dear. "Merlin's making me paranoid," he grumbled to himself as he dressed.

The next morning dawned with promise of a beautiful day. Arthur looked around at those mounted, nodding to himself. Merlin had chosen well. Sir Lancelot, Sir Gwaine, and Sir Leon. All honest Knights, all respectful but none had reduced to boot licking.

There was, however, one person missing. "Where's Merlin?" Arthur demanded, annoyed at the delay.

Gwaine chuckled. "Gaius cornered him, and is giving Merlin a list of herbs he wants."

Arthur wanted to protest, but instead found himself forced to wait patiently. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Merlin essentially served two Masters. And there had been cases of the sweating sickness going around the lower town. All isolated and he had been assured of the unlikeliness of a major spread. Gaius's requests would, he hated to admit, have to take precedence. He hoped that didn't mean cutting the trip short to return the herbs post haste.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the two appeared on the steps. Merlin had already prepared everyone's horses and then been waylaid by his Guardian. The old man was very lively in describing the plant Merlin was looking for. From the expression on the servant's face, this was not the first time. He decided to help his friend. He may have to defer to the Physician in some matters, but he was still King.

"Let's go, Merlin! You've delayed me long enough!" he ordered sharply, pleased when both men looked at him from their conversation, their reactions total opposites. Merlin grinned, patted Gaius on the shoulder, and all but ran for his horse. Gaius gave a respectful nod to his King, but clasped his hands together in front of him as he often did when displeased.

All mounted, Arthur turned the horses and left the square at a quick clip. Gaius would have been well within his right to keep the servant there with him, and Arthur desperately wanted him on this trip. Once they had passed through the gates, they slowed, and Merlin moved closer to his King.

"Thank you, Arthur," he murmured quietly.

"Will we have to return early?" Arthur inquired back, happy when Merlin shook his head.

"No, Sire. Unless it becomes a major outbreak- and Gaius doesn't think it will- he has enough to see us through. He simply needs them replenished for next time. The drying process is a long one."

They rode in silence for a while. Well, as silent as riding with Gwaine ever got, anyway. The three Knights were taking part in a lively conversation- tales of Gwaine's adventures in the taverns across Camelot, he thought from the snippets he caught.

The sky was beginning to darken when Arthur called a halt for the night. He found peace in the laughter and simple activity surrounding him. The Knights, who teased Merlin mercilessly, were quick to help him finish his chores before the delay got him in any real trouble.

The night air was cool, but fresh. The smell of the campfire an old friend. These dreams had been building, bruising him inside. He felt that washing away in the familiarity of the scene before him. He wished he could remember more about the dream. He'd had it often enough now to understand it hadn't really be him. He'd been living someone else's life, and it was someone else's grief he woke to every morning, but that didn't stop it from piercing him to his soul.

"Arthur?" Merlin called, sounding like it had been done more than once. The King blinked, finding his servant in front of him, handing him the metal plate of stew that had been prepared for the evening meal.

The other Knights were watching too. He took the plate being offered him, not surprised when Merlin sat beside him, and the three Knights turned away, intent on a purposely loud and boisterous conversation.

"Gaius sent me with a sleeping draught, if you need it," Merlin murmured quietly.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think I'll need it. I think I just needed this." He hoped that was true.

"Then I'm glad we came, even if some poor animal should suffer for it," Merlin grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You're such a girl, Merlin."

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"Merlin, I swear you're doing this deliberately," Arthur growled as yet another deer sprinted away from their not so quiet approach. Merlin looked back at him innocently, but said nothing in his own defense, merely shifting the two rabbits they had managed to hunt that he carried.

Still, Arthur was feeling generous. This morning had been the first in a long time he had woken without the shadow of the recurring dream hanging over him. Maybe he had simply been working too hard, had taken on too much so soon after the death of his father.

"All right, let's get back to camp," Arthur announced. "Those need to be skinned."

"Stew or Spit?" Merlin asked as they turned to head back to camp, obviously pleased. Arthur was suddenly aware of a flare of warmth inside him. He ruthlessly pushed it down. He would go so far as to admit Merlin was a friend, but he refused to admit he cared whether the servant was pleased or not.

"Spit. Then you can go collect Gaius's herbs. Something productive might as well come from today," Arthur grumbled lightly.

It was dark when Arthur started to worry. Lancelot and Merlin had been gone much longer than was seemed necessary for collecting herbs. He had made Merlin show him the list before they left. None had been overly rare of difficult to find. He'd felt comfortable sending only one Knight with the boy to complete the chore.

"Leon," he started, but cut off abruptly as the sound of something moving in the bush around them came clear. Then more. They were being surrounded. "To arms!" he called unnecessarily. Leon and Gwaine already had their swords out and were standing a the ready.

It didn't matter. They were outnumbered, and once the bandits had a sword to Leon's throat, threatening to cut it if they didn't drop their arms, the battle was over quickly. He was surprised, however, when the bandits settled into their camp! The three men were bound tightly to a nearby tree, watching while the bandits sat to enjoy their rabbit.

Slowly, more bandits filtered into the camp, bringing with them their own supplies. Arthur strained to hear conversation, but there had been no mention of names. Bandits, perhaps. But these men moved with a clear confidence that only training could provide.

"What took you so long?" the leader growled as a small group finally made it into camp, nearly two hours after the capture of Arthur and his Knights. "Where are the others?"

"We ran into some trouble from the other two," a large man growled, hauling on a rope. Arthur followed it with his eyes and was disappointed to see Lancelot tied to the other end of it. "This one killed four of us."

The leader snorted. "Less to share the bounty with. There are six of you still missing. Did the other get away?"

Arthur felt hope spring in his chest. If Merlin was free, he could return to Camelot for help. He cringed at the word "bounty", though. Not merely bandits. This had been done with planning and purpose. They clearly knew who they were. This wasn't some random opportunistic attack.

"We 'ave 'im," another man, further behind, called out. He was carrying something over his shoulder. "We was never told he could be a threat."

The leader frowned. "He's a servant. How hard could it have been to capture a man huddling in fear?"

Arthur's heart tightened with fear when the man dumped his burden roughly onto the ground, wincing when it bounced from the hard impact. It was an unconscious Merlin. There was blood on his head, but more concerning was the crossbow bolt still lodged in his side.

"I'm not sure who your sources were, Henrix," another man growled, kicking the unconscious servant. "This one killed five of us before I was able to put a bolt into him. And injured Karl enough that it was a mercy to kill him even after the bolt."

Arthur blinked. Surely he was hearing wrong. Lancelot must have done most of it without them seeing. He glanced at Leon and Gwaine, frowning when they were neither surprised nor doubtful of the claim.

Henrix stood and walked over, cuffing the man who had given away his name as he passed to kneel beside the servant. He grabbed Merlin's face in his hand, turning it from side to side. "He doesn't look like much. Still, the bounty includes him. Get that bolt out of him and pray he survives the trip. Tie the Knight up with the others. And Jens, if that was one of your poisoned bolts, I'll have your guts for garters."

Lancelot didn't fight being lead to the tree with the others. None of them made any attempt at escape. They wouldn't, of course. Despite the threats, it sounded like these men were going to treat their injured friend. None of them would consider leaving until that happened.

Once Lancelot was secured, Arthur leaned over to him. "What really happened?" he whispered.

Lancelot hesitated, but shook his head head. "Exactly as they said, Sire. They came on us suddenly, as if they'd been hunting us. Merlin tried to talk his way out, until one of the men mentioned the attack on you. There was no stopping him after that. He didn't hesitate. We killed that first party, and started back, hoping to secure your escape."

Arthur snorted at the assumption they would have been captured. Lancelot cleared his throat. "My apologies, Sire, but Merlin was correct. He said you wouldn't risk the lives of Leon and Gwaine in a pointless fight, and these men seemed to have the advantage of numbers. We were close when the next group found us."

Lancelot grew quiet after that. Arthur frowned. "Lancelot, what happened?"

"He ordered me to run. They knew there were two of us, but he thought he could distract them long enough for me to get away. He insisted one of us had to stay free."

Leon frowned. "That makes no sense. He should have been the one to run, let you fight." But the objection sounded rote, as if said purely because it was expected. He wasn't convinced of its validity.

"As I pointed out to him at the time. I conceded only because when he told me he'd never leave while Arthur was in danger, I believed him. We ran out of time to continue the argument."

"He's your friend," Gwaine growled. "And you left him? Defenseless?" The raw anger in his voice was clear. Arthur hated to admit it, but he had to agree. Whatever could have possessed the Knight of Camelot to leave a serving boy alone against those odds?

Not for the first time, Arthur cursed the unwavering loyalty of his manservant. Leon remained silent, but Arthur could see understanding in his expression. Gwaine was loyal first and foremost to Merlin, his loyalty to Arthur and Camelot coming second. But Leon, Leon knew the boy. Had seen him ride out with Arthur time and again without pause to consider his own survival. Leon, it seemed, would also have obeyed the orders issued by the young man.

To stop the coming resentment from the wild Knight, Arthur snorted. "Well if he killed five, almost 6, of them, he's hardly defenseless, is he?"

"It didn't matter," Lancelot continued. "I stopped when I heard him cry out, hesitated about turning back, and that was when they captured me. I am sorry, Sire. I have failed you both."

"No, Lancelot. We were all taken. This was well planned out. And if they split the group to go look for you and Merlin, they knew he'd be out gathering herbs."

Leon frowned. "A spy inside the palace?" he asked, disdain dripping off his tongue.

They turned as one when a pain filled cry echoed through the camp. Merlin had been close enough to consciousness to feel the bolt being removed, and there was reason to doubt any kindness had been offered.

"The bolt... will he live?" Arthur asked.

"Merlin is tougher than we give him credit for, Sire."

"That's not an answer, Lancelot," Arthur growled.

"Nonetheless, Sire, it is the only one I will give, for in it is hope."