It had been months since Merlin had been seen by Arthur in a state of sadness, and he was thankful that was so, although suspicious that him not seeing it did not mean that it was not so, similarly to how he did not see it for two years after Freya's death.

The two had been sent on a trip to visit one of the outlying villages after complaints of a tyrant stealing crops and money from businesses had been brought to the attention of the young prince. They did not have the time afforded to them that would allow a safe trip across Camelot, so were forced to cross a brief bit of Cenred's land, equivalent to nearly four hours of riding. Although it was risky, it could not be helped - if Arthur were late returning, he would miss an important conference of kings, which was simply put a meeting of various royal families which would allow them to renew and revise the standing treaties that were in place. It was risky business postponing such meetings, as the subject material was gravely important to all citizens of Camelot.

Despite Merlin's protests, insisting it was too great a chance of missing the conference, Arthur ordered his servant to pack their things and ready the horses. The journey would be four days, if they were punctual, and closer to five if they ran into minor trouble, and considering the conference was to occur in six and the risk was minimal, Arthur assumed it was a risk worth taking.

The ride began rather uneventfully. Arthur noticed that Merlin seemed somewhat quiet and appeared to be muttering something under his breath, but didn't really question it, as Merlin was always doing odd things and seemed to be put off by the idea of the trip anyway.

Although Merlin was not saying anything, Arthur still said "shh," When he heard the sound of leaves rustling. The horses stopped moving at their riders' command, and Merlin had stopped muttering the unknown phrase, now focusing intently on the noise.

A twig snapped and the sound rung out clear as day in both riders' ears. They had just entered Cenred's kingdom not more than twenty minutes ago, so Arthur assumed a patrol had been waiting and followed them a ways. He quickly leapt off his horse, followed by Merlin doing the same. Arthur drew his sword, and Merlin seemed to do the same awkwardly, as he'd never had much practice with a sword. He made a mental note to teach Merlin the art of swordsmanship - or try to - after the conference, as it was a bit sad how hopeless he seemed to be at defending himself. A series of at least ten, maybe more knights suddenly emerged from behind the trees on all sides and their swords met Arthur and Merlin's, Arthur quickly defeating three knights while Merlin used his magic to discreetly get rid of the one who seemed particularly set on killing him. The individual battles seemed to continue for awhile, until Arthur had defeated a total of six and Merlin three.

It was too late to warn him when Arthur noticed a knight run with particular speed behind Merlin and land a nasty slash to his shoulder. Merlin yelled out, but before Arthur could come to his rescue he delivered the knight a killing blow. Arthur couldn't help the twinge of pride he felt from that. It was quickly overridden though by a wave of delayed fear and he raced over to Merlin, who was trying to inspect his own injury but wincing each time he moved his shoulder.

"It's fine, it's nothing. I'll be fine." Merlin quickly replied, seeming flushed.

Arthur went to inspect it and saw it was bleeding a good deal, and seemed fairly deep. He sucked in his teeth and sighed.

"Take off your shirt, let me wrap it up. You need to bandage it or it'll get worse."

At this, Merlin seemed to instantly object. "N-no, it's really fine. I'll be careful, look it's not even bleeding that much-"

Arthur frowned. "Merlin." He frowned. "What are you hiding?"

Merlin sighed. "Nothing, but please don't ask about them?"

Arthur didn't have time to ask "About what?" Before Merlin had exposed his torso. What Arthur saw brought a chill to his bone. Scars, scars caused by what should have been fatal wounds riddled his body in an array of deadly memories. A burn mark across his chest, many slashes decorating his entire torso and back, and most concerning of all: A serket sting scar, resting on the opposite shoulder of his newest wound. He stuttered a bit, but noticed the vulnerable look that occupied Merlin's features and regulated his expression, electing not to ask questions at the moment as Merlin had requested.

He began wrapping the wound in bandages he'd brought with him, eyes lingering on the dark purple scar on his other shoulder as well as dozens upon dozens of other scars, burn marks or otherwise littering his thin frame. His hands reached up to touch them, and ever so gently the tips of his fingers glided against one of the most prominent scars on his back. It was clearly made from a deep cut, and likely took ages to heal, so how it had gone unnoticed was baffling to him. Merlin flinched a bit as Arthur touched it but relaxed slowly once it was clear Arthur was only silently observing, not trying to confront him about the marks on his body. He didn't know what he would say if Arthur asked.

Arthur took in each one of the individual scars, still remaining wordless, before finally wrapping Merlin's wound completely.

The two didn't speak any more of it, until about an hour later when their general conversation had continued and neither had acknowledged the event's occurrence whatsoever. As it grew dark, the two laid down to rest, preparing for sleep.

"How'd you get 'em?" Arthur asked. A simple but loaded question.

"Which one?" Merlin asked, sending a pang of sadness into Arthur's chest.

"The serket sting?"

"I told you I was dying."

A grave silence ensued afterwards which was broken by neither of them.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

"It doesn't matter." Merlin replied simply.

At this, Arthur shifted to face his servant, who was still staring up at the canopy of leaves between which the brightest stars could be seen shining through.

"Of course it matters, Merlin. If you're in pain you ought to tell me."

"I'm a servant. I'm not meant to be taken care of."

At this Arthur paused sadly once again. Had he really made his servant believe such nonsense?

"If you need help you must always ask, Merlin. It does matter - it matters to me."

"Yes sire," Merlin responded, sounding detached. Arthur felt indescribable sadness at the response, knowing now how Merlin devalued his own life. He knew Merlin routinely spoke the phrase, "What is the life of a servant compared to that of a king?" But had assumed that didn't apply so deeply to his own life.

The two went to sleep in silence after that, Arthur remaining facing Merlin to ensure his loyal servant was still there, still alive, still breathing.

Still okay.

A/N: Hey all! I'm so happy there's already reviews on the first chapter. I hope you like this one, and that you'll leave a review or even follow the story to let me know! Thank you!