Warning for Claustrophobia

Some Lancelot whump for Aini Nufire ;) (Go check out her fics if you want more Merlin whump content!)

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In the Ground

"Buried Alive"

A Merlin Fanfic

Lancelot drifted, the pain in his head seeping down through his body to meet at the pain in his side. The cloying smell of blood assaulted his senses as he heard voices trickle in.

"He dead?"

A heavy boot kicked him in the side and he flinched slightly, but couldn't even find the energy to moan, eyes at half-mast.

"Close enough," another voice replied.

"With those wounds he'll be dead before sunrise. Let's get him taken care of before he starts stinking."

Lancelot's pain-ridden mind couldn't really put two and two together about what was going on until two figures reached down and grabbed his wrists and ankles, dragging him along the forest floor for a few yards before he was left to limply collapse on the ground. Hands wrestled to take his sword and belts off, followed by his chain mail and boots.

"No point in wasting these," the gruff voice chuckled.

Lancelot made a small sound of protest but it was lost in the sound of the men moving around him, the sound of dirt being shoveled.

Lancelot frowned. What were they doing?

He drifted again, and was startled into his half-conscious state again by the men grabbing him. He tried to struggle but didn't have the energy to move. They were lifting him up and…

He fell, hitting a slightly giving surface. The smell of soil assaulted his senses and, worse, it began to rain down on his face.

He glanced up and saw two figures standing over him, pushing the dirt down on top of him.

"St-stop," he whispered, voice barely audible.

They didn't stop. They probably wouldn't have even if they had heard him. The dirt piled up, and Lancelot somehow found the strength to bring his arms up over his face. Maybe, just maybe he could leave himself enough room to breathe for a while. Enough time to…

To what? He could barely move a finger let alone dig himself out of this.

This was it. He was going to die. Buried alive.

Lancelot felt the panic settling in, his breath quickening, which was not good. More dirt settled on top of him, pressing down, pushing him further and further into the ground. The light was blocked out. He couldn't breathe… The smell of the soil was all encompassing. Was this what hell felt like?

He supposed he would find out soon…His despair darkened to resignation as he felt the blackness overtaking him.


Merlin and Gwaine flew through the woods.

"Lancelot!" Merlin shouted. "Lancelot!"

"Where the hell is he?" Gwaine breathed, whipping around to look for their lost comrade. They were supposed to have gotten separated. It was supposed to have been an easy mission—but then, wasn't that what they always said?

There was just nothing, until they came across the remnants of a camp. No one was there, but Merlin still looked around, having a bad feeling about this in the pit of his stomach.

"Gwaine…" he said.

The knight was crouched on the ground, running his hand over some leaves. He pulled it back, rubbing his fingers together. "Blood. There's blood. A good bit of it too."

Merlin pressed his lips into a thin, worried line. "You don't think…I mean, there are a lot of bandits around here, but Lancelot…"

Gwaine stood. "Lancelot!" he shouted again, looking around for any other sign of their friend.

Merlin headed in the opposite direction, wondering if Lancelot might have wandered, injured, into the woods, having gotten away from whoever he might have tangled with.

That was when he saw the freshly turned earth.

Dread instantly settled into his stomach.

"Gwaine," he called, voice choked.

Gwaine turned. "What is it…" he trailed off as he saw what Merlin was looking at.

"No…" he murmured.

Merlin wasn't going to believe it, he was not going to accept that Lancelot might be…

Soil suddenly dipped, startling them both. It might just be settling, or it might mean…

"Gwaine!" Merlin barked suddenly. "You don't think?"

Gwaine cursed and they both fell to their knees, tearing into the soil with their bare hands. Luckily it was loose, and despite the small rocks and twigs that bit into their hands, they made short work of it, throwing it behind them unheeding, as they fought to find out what had become of their friend.

Merlin finally scraped against something soft and giving. Something warm.

"Gwaine!" he gave a strangled cry, more carefully pushing the dirt away as he uncovered an arm. He and Gwaine hurriedly followed it up to uncover Lancelot's dirty face.

"Lance!" Gwaine shouted, frantically shoving the last of the dirt off of him before he and Merlin each grabbed Lancelot's arms and hauled him out of the hole.

Lancelot was a dead weight, and Merlin hurriedly checked him over. Dirt matted his hair, sticking to the blood that coated one side of his face, and more from a wound on his side, still sluggishly bleeding. But what was more worrying was that he wasn't breathing.

"Lancelot!" he cried, shaking him, pressing a hand against his chest. He pushed, at the same time forcing a little magic into the knight, hoping it would be enough to get his lungs working again.

A wrenching gasp shook Lancelot's whole body as his eyes flew open and he coughed, turning onto his side and curling up weakly.

"It's okay, you're all right," Merlin reassured him, keeping a hand on his back.

Once Lancelot became a little more aware of his surroundings, he pushed himself shakily upright, looking in grateful awe at his two friends before reaching out to grab the front of their shirts, tears streaming down his cheeks, making clean tracks in the dirt.

Merlin and Gwaine simply hauled him against them, feeling Lancelot tremble as he sobbed silently in relief and residual terror. Merlin held him tighter. He couldn't even imagine how horrible it would be to be caught underground, buried alive.

When Lancelot's shaking eventually slowed, he pulled back, bringing up a hand weakly to wipe his face. "Th-thank you," he whispered. "I…I don't know…"

Gwaine gave him a watery smile and squeezed the back of his neck. "No need, brother."

"We're just glad we got to you in time," Merlin said with an exhale, squeezing Lancelot's shoulder.

The knight nodded solemnly, obviously grateful for his friends and their punctuality.

"Come on, let's get you back to Gaius," Merlin told him and he and Gwaine pulled him to his feet, taking most of his weight.

"And if you can't walk, I'll carry you on my back," Gwaine told him with a grin.

Lancelot gave a weak grin back and settled his arms on both of their shoulders. "I think I'll be okay now."

They headed back to Camelot like that, grateful that all three of them would make it home.


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