A/N: Super late posting. Had a very rough morning.
Just some shameless whump and h/c. XD
"Shrapnel"
Merlin could feel the air crackling with static and magic as he faced down a desperate man trying to wield one of the most powerful weapons of all time, stronger than even a sword forged in dragon fire. Because this one had been forged by magic itself.
The blade glowed gold like the sun, radiating beams of power throughout the wood. They illuminated the face of the man holding it, bleaching his skin and setting his mad eyes alight.
"Please, put it down," Merlin pleaded. "That sword isn't meant to be wielded by a mortal; you won't be able to control it."
When John had first come to Camelot to warn them about this dangerous weapon resurfacing, they thought he could be trusted. It turned out he only wanted their help to retrieve the sword for himself. He'd escaped with it, and the knights had been pursuing him. Merlin and Lancelot had snuck off to find him on their own. Merlin hoped he could reason with the man. But it wasn't looking good.
"I am strong enough!" John spat. "And I will rid Camelot of the scourge that is Uther Pendragon."
The sword pulsed with increasing intensity.
"Merlin…" Lancelot said nervously.
"Uther isn't in charge anymore!" Merlin pressed. "Arthur is, and he will make a world better than his father did."
"Arthur is just as guilty as him," John retorted. "No, the Pendragon line must end."
Lancelot shifted next to Merlin, sword raised. Merlin's pulse was racing. They had to handle this before Arthur and the others caught up to them, lest John refocus his wrath on the prince first.
The sword flared again, surging with more power. John let out a cry from the force of it and the air began to sing.
"John, please, it will kill you!"
His expression twisted with glee as he vibrated along with the sword. But then it shifted to confusion and then terror as the blade burned like a nova. He screamed as the light engulfed him and cracks spider webbed across the blade.
Merlin's eyes widened in horror a split second before Lancelot tackled him and threw them both to the ground just as the sword exploded. The concussive force slammed Merlin harder into the dirt, stunning him for a few moments. The ringing in his ears was all-encompassing, until it finally faded and all was quiet.
He shifted, grunting as Lancelot lay heavily on top of him. Too heavy…
Merlin crawled out from under the knight and twisted around to look at him, only to gape in horror. Shrapnel from the sword had struck Lancelot all up and down his back and side, even his left arm. The iron pieces were still glowing hot.
"Lancelot!" Merlin rolled him onto his other side to see if he was still breathing. He was, albeit jerkily. He was in shock already.
Merlin glanced at the center of the explosion. The sword was gone, as was John, having been incinerated.
"Hang on," he gushed, turning back to his friend.
Voices echoed through the woods, shouting for the two of them.
"Over here!" Merlin yelled.
His heart pounded against his ribs as he looked over the dozen pieces of shrapnel embedded in Lancelot's torso. This was bad, very bad. Lancelot was twitching minutely, pupils blown wide but unseeing.
Arthur and the other knights came barreling into the area, swords drawn in expectation of a fight. No doubt they'd heard the explosion.
"What happened?" Arthur demanded, eyes widening as he spotted Lancelot.
"We found John," Merlin said. "He tried to use the sword and they both exploded."
"Why the hell did you two wander off on your own?" Arthur snapped, but his anger was clearly coming from fear as he dropped down behind Lancelot.
"It's not like we meant to find John," Merlin retorted. Which was a lie, because they had. Merlin hadn't wanted to endanger the others. But he'd endangered Lancelot instead.
"We need to get him back to Camelot," Leon said worriedly. The iron shards were still sizzling.
Percival moved in and grabbed Lancelot's arm, hauling him up and over his shoulder. Lancelot moaned but didn't seem fully aware at the moment. Leon helped position him so the shrapnel wouldn't be bumped, and then they turned to hurriedly make their way back to Camelot.
Once they reached the castle, Merlin sprinted ahead to alert Gaius. They had one of the work tables cleared by the time the others arrived and Gaius directed Percival to lay Lancelot on that. Lancelot was still shivering in shock. They needed to get that shrapnel out of him, but if they tried to just yank the pieces out, they'd likely snag on his chainmail and make things worse.
"Here!" Elyan exclaimed, rushing in a moment later with Gwen, both of them carrying tools from their father's forge. Together they worked to break the links of Lancelot's mail shirt along the area where the shrapnel was embedded so they could get the piece off without much jostling.
It was a long, tedious process, but better than accidentally ripping half the shards out at once. Lancelot was going to need new armor though.
Once Elyan and Gwen had the mail off, Gaius cut through Lancelot's tunic to rip the fabric away from the wounds. They all froze and stared in horror. The shards were still simmering with gold tendrils of magic.
"We must work quickly," Gaius said, getting up to retrieve the needed supplies. "Percival, would you hold him on his side?"
Percival wordlessly moved in to brace Lancelot so he wouldn't move much during the procedure.
Gaius picked up a pair of tweezers and bent over his patient, beginning with the largest shard. He had to wrestle with it for a bit before it finally yanked out. Lancelot jerked and made a choking noise. The edges of the wound were charred, the heated iron having cauterized them, so there wasn't a lot of bleeding. Small favors.
Gaius dropped the shard in the empty bowl Merlin was holding at the ready, then moved on to the next. One by one, he plucked the shrapnel from Lancelot's body. Then Gwen brought over a bowl of water and towels, and Gaius proceeded to clean the wounds. Lancelot started shivering more violently halfway through, and Merlin crouched by his head.
"Easy, we're almost done."
Gaius finished by applying salve to the wounds, and then with Merlin and Gwen's help, wound a very long roll of bandages around Lancelot's entire torso and left arm. Percival and Leon moved him to the patient cot, keeping him on his side to avoid putting pressure on the wounds. Merlin grabbed the pillows from his room and propped them against Lancelot's back to gently support him.
"Will he be all right?" Arthur asked. Everyone had watched tensely as Gaius treated their friend, patiently awaiting the physician's prognosis.
"None of the wounds are life threatening," Gaius answered. "But the burns increase the risk of infection. All we can do is keep a close eye on it."
"I'll stay," Gwen volunteered.
Arthur nodded. "Keep me informed."
"Of course, Sire," Gaius replied.
The knights reluctantly left, and the room was quiet as Gwen settled in a chair at Lancelot's bedside.
Merlin retreated to the corner and slumped in exhaustion and self-recrimination.
Gaius came over, setting his supplies on the counter to clean.
"It's my fault, Gaius," Merlin said quietly. "I wanted to talk John down, and Lancelot came with me. He always comes with me, because he knows about my magic and I've never had that before. I put him in harm's way."
"Harm's way is the life of a knight," Gaius pointed out. "And magic is a battle Camelot is long familiar with. It's not your fault, Merlin."
"He was hurt protecting me."
"Just as you would have been hurt trying to protect everyone else if you had gone alone. You both knew what you were getting into."
That didn't make Merlin feel any better.
"At least such a dangerous weapon is now gone," Gaius added. "And can't fall into the wrong hands."
Merlin sighed. There was that.
Gaius resumed puttering around his work stations while Merlin realized he needed to check on Arthur. So he reluctantly left his wounded friend and went to find the prince. Fortunately, Arthur was in an understanding mood and told Merlin he could take the rest of the day to help Gaius watch over Lancelot. Merlin thanked him and hurried back.
He walked in to find Gwen leaning over Lancelot, a concerned pinch between her brows as she rested the back of her hand on the knight's forehead.
"He has a fever," she called to Gaius, who came over to see for himself.
Merlin knew this was a normal development, yet he still felt a jolt of worry over it.
"Mm," Gaius hummed. "A moderate one. Help me unwrap the bandages so I can check the wounds."
Merlin slipped in behind Lancelot to elevate him enough that Gaius and Gwen could unwind the bandages. There was definitely heat emanating off him, and he didn't stir at the ministrations.
The wounds still looked grisly but not necessarily infected. Gaius and Merlin cleaned them all again just to be thorough, which pained Lancelot in his febrile state. Gwen stroked his brow to soothe him during the process.
"We'll leave them uncovered for now," Gaius said. "Merlin, get a clean sheet to cover him."
Merlin hurried off to fetch that. He hated being helpless to do much else.
Lancelot didn't wake over the next several hours. Arthur and the knights took turns coming to check on him, and while there was no progress to report, at least he wasn't getting significantly worse.
Merlin was still sick over it, though. It was bad enough when one of his friends was severely injured; it was worse when it was because of magic.
Gwen and Gaius left to attend some duties, leaving just Merlin in the room. He busied himself with poring over his magic book. Healing spells weren't his forte, and he'd been over them all already before, but maybe he'd finally have a breakthrough.
"Merlin," a quiet voice broke his concentration.
Merlin startled and looked over at Lancelot, whose eyes were open, albeit bleary. "Lancelot!" He dropped his book on the table and leaned forward to press a hand to his friend's brow. His fever had broken.
"I thought we talked about this," Lancelot said in a wispy voice, lips quirking in weak amusement.
Merlin furrowed his brow.
Lancelot flicked his gaze toward the book.
Merlin rolled his eyes as he broke into a grin. He hurriedly took the book back to his room, then grabbed a cup of water on his way back to the cot.
"How are you feeling?" he asked as he lifted Lancelot's head to help him drink.
Lancelot focused on getting the liquid down, coughing on the last swallow. "Pain," he rasped. "What happened?"
"The sword exploded and you got hit with a dozen shards," Merlin answered.
Lancelot tried to lift his head to look at his body, but the sheet was covering the wounds. "Bad?" he asked nervously.
"No, you'll be fine."
Lancelot closed his eyes in relief.
"I'm sorry," Merlin said.
"This wasn't your fault, Merlin," Lancelot replied without opening his eyes.
"You were hurt because of magic," he said bitterly. "Same thing."
Lancelot opened his eyes with effort. "Your magic has never been used to cause harm. And you are my friend. I will always protect you with the same devotion I do Arthur."
Merlin sighed with fondness. "And I'll always be here to put you back together."
Lancelot's mouth twitched and he closed his eyes again to rest.
Merlin reached out to place a hand on his friend's arm, grateful for the normal temperature and steady breathing of a patient on the mend.