Hey! Another Merthur fic! This takes place sometime between the finale of season three and the third episode of season four. For the sake of this story, let's pretend the whole Dorocha thing never happened. Enjoy!

Arthur woke to a whimpering noise followed by the sound of someone moving around. Immediately, he went on high alert. Without even really processing what he was doing, Arthur was reaching for his sword and preparing to jump into whatever battle needed to be fought.

He had only made it into a seated position, however, when he realized there was no battle that needed to be fought, nor anyone who needed protecting.

Instead, there was just his manservant, curled on his side facing away from Arthur a few feet away. The raven was whimpering and kicking his legs out weakly, his fists flexing tightly into the grass next to his bed roll.

Arthur furrowed his brow, concern bubbling in the pit of his stomach as Merlin whimpered again, this time followed by a small cry of alarm and a particularly hard kick. Glancing around to make sure the rest of his knights were still asleep aside from Leon who was keeping watch somewhere, Arthur quietly got up and crawled over to the distressed boy.

"Merlin," he whispered, shaking the warlock's shoulder firmly, not wanting to scare him but also wanting to wake him up as quickly as possible. Now that he was closer, he could see in the dying glow of the fire that Merlin's face was pinched in anxiety, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead and eyes rolling wildly beneath pale lids.

"Merlin!" he called a bit louder when this didn't get him any sort of response. Merlin curled into himself and cried out, one hand reaching out towards a phantom object. "Arthur," he cried softly, still sound asleep. Tears began to roll down his nearly translucent cheeks as he withered some more on the ground, still whimpering and crying out in terror.

Arthur threaded a hand through his hair. It wasn't like this was the first time Merlin had ever had a nightmare around him, the raven was quite prone to them actually, but back at the citadel they managed to keep them at bay by having Merlin secretly sleep with Arthur at night. It seemed that whenever the raven was close to his prince, he never experienced them.

Since they were returning from a visit to an outer lying village and were accompanied by the knights however, Arthur had begrudgingly told Merlin it would be best if they slept separately, no matter how much the hurt expression in Merlin's azure eyes broke him or how desperately he wanted to hold his love in his arms while he slept.

If they had simply been accompanied by Arthur's knights, he wouldn't have thought anything of sleeping with Merlin. The worst repercussions they would have faced would have been Gwaine's endless teasing. However, his father in his senile state had insisted Arthur take a few knights from his personal guard. Despite the prince's protests that his knights were quite capable and competent, Uther insisted, and Arthur really had no say. He was still king after all.

So, Arthur didn't want to risk word of their relationship getting back to his father. Once the man passed, and by this point Arthur had accepted the fact that it would likely be happening sooner rather than later, and Arthur was crowned king, he would be free to court whomever he wished out in the open. Until then, Arthur's main focus was to keep Merlin safe from his father.

Suddenly, the glowing embers of the fire roared to life as six-foot flames, and Merlin shot up, eyes blazing their brilliant gold. His hand was outstretched as if to ward off a threat. His eyes swiveled around the clearing as the gold faded back to blue and finally landed on Arthur.

"Arthur," he whimpered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He reached both arms out towards the blonde and made a desperate grabbing motion.

Arthur felt his heart crack as he obliged the younger man, taking his trembling lover into his arms and shushing him softly. "Shh, it's alright. I've got you, my love."

"You-you were…I couldn't…there was-was nothing…and the blood…and-and-" Merlin cut himself off with a choked sob, burying his face in Arthur's neck. The blonde felt tears running down his skin and on to his tunic, but he couldn't care less. He simply rocked the warlock in his arms, running a hand through his dark locks, and whispering gentle words to him until he finally settled down.

"Come on, let's go back to bed, darling," Arthur whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Merlin's trembling lips, "You're sleeping with me from now on."

"B-but your father's men…"

"I don't care anymore. All I care about is your well-being. I won't have you ill from sleep deprivation because of my father's idiotic prejudices. And besides, I happen to know someone who has quite the talent for memory spells," Arthur added the last bit with a quiet chuckle and was delighted when a small smirk graced Merlin's lips.

"That's better," he whispered as he led Merlin back to his much warmer, much softer, much bigger bed roll. This was where Merlin should have been sleeping all along; this was where he deserved to be sleeping.

Arthur pulled the thick blanket securely around both of them and maneuvered Merlin's head, so it was resting on his chest, just above his heart.

He stroked the raven's bangs as he quietly murmured, "You hear that? That's my heart. I'm safe, I'm alive, and I'm here with you. My heart beats strong for you and only you. I will never leave you, and I will forever and always protect you with everything I have."

Arthur glanced down to see Merlin's face lax and peaceful, his breathing even. Arthur smiled and pulled him just a bit closer. "Sleep well, my warlock."

All done! I hope you all liked it!