Greetings! Here's the next oneshot, I hope you like it!

On a sidenote, what do you think of my new book cover! A friend of mine, angellla29, on the Heart of Camelot website made it for me. Isn't it lovely?

Warnings: Merthur-ish, angst, some violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, or any of its characters.

"That's all for tonight," Arthur said. "Dismissed."

All of his knights began filing out of the armory, oddly silent for the comradely group, but they were exhausted, steeped in blood, sweat, fatigue from the recent battle. They were all so intent on finding their beds for some much-needed peace that they did not notice the defeat and confusion on their king's face. If any had seen the expression, especially any of his closest knights, they might have stopped to question it, as it was a strange one for a victorious warrior-king to wear.

Only Leon took a look back, but through the haze of fatigue, he could only see the physical tiredness before Arthur waved him away smoothly. Then the senior knight turned away, his mind fully focused on sleeping for next few days.

He didn't see the king lean against the wall, or slide down until he was on the floor, hiding his face in his hands.

Arthur's heart thudded painfully in his chest, the adrenaline pulsing through him with an ever greater intensity than it had in the throes of battle. It didn't help that he was comfortable and confident in battle, but almost completely out of his element in the situation he found himself in.

He nearly turned around to face Merlin to ask him for advice, but stopped himself. Merlin wasn't there, and it was partly his fault that Arthur was in this confusion in the first place. It was all the idiot's fault.

What good was it, being some all-powerful warlock, if you couldn't protect yourself from attack? What was the point if you couldn't heal yourself? If the idiot survived this, Arthur was going to kill him for being so selflessly foolish.

Merlin could be dead already.

Arthur's rust-stained fingers wound themselves through his sweaty hair and pulled, enough to hurt. He'd hoped that if he pulled hard enough, the pain would be enough to block out the thought of Merlin, the strange adrenaline pulsing through him, the painful feelings he couldn't understand.

It didn't work.

xxx

The battle had been going on for hours, and warriors from both sides were showing signs of hastily shielded fatigue. Camelot was not losing, but neither were they winning – teetering on the brink between victory and defeat. Arthur was near the front of the battle, his sword brandishing sharply and fiercely in the chilly air and foes that would see his end were falling about him. However, he was so soon identified as one of the greatest threats and a throng of the enemy had set themselves upon them.

As a blend of sweat and strange blood coated his face and blurred his senses, Arthur wondered absently where Merlin was. The warlock had the uncanny knack of showing up when Arthur needed him most, but was nowhere in sight. As Arthur let out a war cry and swung his blade in a deadly circle, he hoped that the idiot hadn't done something stupid and gotten himself killed. Merlin could take care of himself, and was probably still defeating those that came closest to Camelot.

Arthur's feet slipped from beneath him and he fell to the ground, his attackers close behind him. Arthur saw his sword slip far beyond his reach and, seeing his imminent death, glared defiantly at his attackers. If he was going to die, he would not die a coward.

The sudden blast of golden light nearly blinded all the men on the field and when their eyes refocused, Camelot's court warlock was standing in front of his king, his body in a defensive position and his arms splayed outward. Arthur had tried to pull himself up, but was too winded to do so, instead propping himself up on his elbows.

"This ends now," Merlin said with a calm, cold voice that belied the rivulets of sweat flowing down his face, "Leave or be destroyed."

A brawnier soldier decided to answer by thrusting a lance in the direction of the warlock's ribs. Merlin made it stop in midair with a flick of his hand and then knocked the man onto his back with a flourish. His eyes never leaving the growing crowd of opponents, he cupped his hands and brought them together, a golden ball of light building in intensity and strength between them.

The warlock appeared to be about to release the powerful golden light when one of the opposing soldiers ran from behind, swinging his sword, intent on Arthur. Merlin spun around and cast a shield around the king with a sharp movement of his head.

However, that gave the enemy just enough time to get to Merlin. The scream, nearly inhuman with the intensity of pain, that Merlin made as the sword pierced the flesh of his leg and was pulled upward made Arthur's hair stand on end. He fell to his uninjured knee and with a cold look in his eyes released the ball of light. As it flashed across the landscape, all of the enemy fell down, although most seemed to be merely injured and unconscious – all except for the man who had tried to kill Arthur after the warlock's warning.

Merlin's eyes gleamed with the residual remnants of the spell, and then closed as he slumped sideways to the ground. Arthur finally managed to pull himself up to run to Merlin's side, although his muscles screamed with exhaustion.

Merlin's breath came in painful, short bursts, and a few tears spilled from his eyes from the sheer magnitude of the pain. Arthur had seen plenty of injuries, in battle and even in training, but he had to restrain from physically wretching at the bloody wreck of Merlin's leg. He forced himself to meet Merlin's eyes which, although still slightly golden from his spell casting, were beginning to dim.

No.

"Don't you dare die on me, you idiot," Arthur barked, although his voice cracked considerably and he had to keep from shaking, "that's an order."

Merlin made an attempt at rolling his dimming eyes. "Like I ever listen to you."

"Please," Arthur's voice was all seriousness then, almost pleading, "hang on."

"Arthur," Merlin responded tiredly, his eyelids beginning to droop, "you have the others to think of. Get them to safety and it'll be fin-"

Arthur shook his head. "Stop trying to be noble, Merlin, it doesn't suit you." He debated quickly about carefully slinging the other over his shoulder, but didn't want to risk damaging the mess of a leg any further. Instead, he bent down, and began gingerly placing his arms underneath Merlin's knees and behind his back. "Grab on, I'm getting you out of here."

"Prat, take care of th-ahhhh!" Merlin nearly shouted in pain as Arthur lifted the younger man into his arms. He decided to stop complaining and just hang on for dear life, wrapping his arms around the king's neck.

Arthur froze.

It wasn't the first time Arthur had had to pull Merlin from battle. It wasn't even the first time he'd carried Merlin away from danger. But he'd always carried him over his shoulder, or there'd been a barrier between their skin. But in the mess of battle, a very scarred enemy had managed to tear a strip of chainmail from around Arthur's neck, leaving it bare. As for Merlin, he had discarded the robes he typically wore in court (through a combination of a drunken bet from Arthur and gentle pleading from Gwen) and was wearing a tunic and trousers. He claimed it was much easier to fight and less likely that'd he trip and make an idiot of himself.

But the point was, he'd never felt Merlin's skin. Certainly not around his neck, with the warm but wheezing breath fanning onto his bare skin.

Arthur thought his heart had stopped.

It was always difficult to keep a clear head when Mer- when any of his comrades or friends became injured. But it was so hard just to keep walking forward to his destination, and his mind wandered a little bit. The warm breath and the pressure on his neck and the slide of their skin together was just overwhelming…it was only when the blood from Merlin's tattered leg began to soak through the chainmail that Arthur got a hold of himself and practically ran to where Gaius was stationed, taking care not to jar Merlin's leg too much.

And even though he didn't want Merlin to get his wound infected or lose too much blood, he almost couldn't bear to put him down. Out of his arms.

xxx

It had been hours since they had all returned and Merlin had been in his arms, and the blood was still pounding in his head at a sickening pace. There was fury and fear, which came as no surprise, but there was some other emotion there, nearly overpowering the others. An emotion he couldn't identify or didn't want to identify, that emerged whenever he remember the feel of Merlin's skin and breath on his neck…

He didn't know what that emotion was, but it got more intense the closer he got to Merlin, so he stayed away. Even now that he was done with the men, he didn't get up to go see his court warlock where he was lying in Gaius' chambers, bloody and unconscious. He wanted to see his friend, to see that he was getting better, that he was going to be all right. But he couldn't trust himself to be there, not with his mind in such turmoil. He knew that, as bad as the rush of blood and emotions was at the moment, being near Merlin would be even more overwhelming. It would destroy him.

As Arthur felt the brush of his own arm across his forehead, he thought of Merlin's skin in the same place. For a moment he thought that destruction might not be so bad.

The door slowly opened, the creaking of the old hinge breaking his out of his reverie and back to his senses. "Arthur?"

Arthur looked up to see Gwen cautiously peeking her head into the room, looking for him amongst the darkening gloom. Her eyes skimmed the shadows of armor and swords, until they landed on Arthur. Her entire face lit up with relief and she ran over to him, her skirt billowing out behind her. Arthur stood up just in time for her to nearly jump into his arms, only holding back once she saw how tired he looked. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Even as his heart beat slightly faster and he hugged her back, his mind wandered back to Merlin's arms tightly holding him.

He mentally shook his head. He was being ridiculous.

Gwen kissed him, full of gratitude and maybe some desperation, and Arthur responded after a moment. He felt his heart began to beat slightly faster, setting his mind somewhat at ease – although the rest of it noted that the speed was considerably different than it had been with Merlin. "I'm so glad to see that you're safe, Arthur," she said, smiling, "I was so worried! Not that," she added hastily, blushing, "I didn't think you could do it, but I still wor-"

Arthur, grinning, stopped her words with a kiss. She blushed. "I'm all right."

Gwen smiled, and then looked around. "Is everyone all right? Elyan? Merlin?"

Arthur, who had been a little distracted, started at the second name against his will, and Gwen blanched. "Merlin? Is he…is he all right?"

"He's…with Gaius," Arthur finished lamely, "his leg got injured."

"Then what in the world," Gwen countered, putting her hands on her hips, "are you doing here? He's your friend, Arthur! He needs you to be there. I'd go too but," she blushed slightly, and loosely gestured at her slightly distended stomach, "I can't climb the stairs."

A sensation like cold water crashed into Arthur as the sight reminded him just why he couldn't entertain … those feelings towards Merlin. He was married. He had a child. And it was probably just exhaustion anyway that made him think he thought of Merlin … like that.

Gwen stepped up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "Go on ahead, Arthur. Merlin needs you."

The thought made Arthur ecstatic and miserable all in one, and he escorted his wife back to their chambers in near silence. He helped her into bed and she gave him one last kiss before gently pushing on his shoulders. "Go on then," she smiled, "stay as long as you need."

He kissed her forehead and tried not to feel like he was betraying the two people whom he loved most in the world at the same time. "All right. Good night."

The walk to Gaius' chambers was tortuously wrong, but as much as part of Arthur longed to rush there with all the speed he possessed, he walked there slowly. He didn't want to crash into any of the guards, which might raise questions about why he'd been running around so late at night, and he was a little terrified at what would happen when he saw Merlin again.

But the thought of his cowardice keeping him from seeing Merlin for perhaps the last time spurred him forward.

Due to the lateness of the night, Arthur was able to get to Gaius' chambers without delay, but stared at the door for a few agonizing seconds before going in. He slowly opened the door, the familiar creak of the bottom hinge soothing his racing heart as he looked inside. The smell of ointment and blood permeated the dark room, and Arthur noted with relief that the men who had been wounded seemed to be resting comfortably in their cots. But he could not see Gaius – or Merlin.

Arthur's finely honed hearing picked up a muted squeaking of a cupboard behind the door of Merlin's old room and walked quietly towards it, not wanting to startle Merlin, were he conscious, or Gaius if he was tending to Merlin. As he raised up a fist to knock on the door, it opened inward and Gaius stopped in his tracks.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed in a surprised whisper, and then his face softened slightly. "Is something wrong?"

The younger man shook his head. "No, I just wanted to see –" Arthur cleared his suddenly tight throat. "How is he?"

Gaius stepped to the side, holding an arm out welcomingly towards the cot below the window. "He'll be fine – would you like to see yourself?"

Arthur could only nod, and followed the older man to the wounded warlock's bedside, his heart catching in his throat at the weary expression on Merlin's face. It might have been the shafts of moonlight coming in through the window, but Merlin looked terribly pale.

Gaius saw the conflicted expression on the young king's face and accurately read it. "That's all right, Arthur," he assured, "he's a little more pale, but that's because of the magical strain he's under." Not waiting for the other's perplexed gaze to meet his, the physician gestured down to where Merlin's leg was bound and generously bandaged. When Arthur squinted, he could see a faint golden glow emanating from beneath the bandage. "It's healing him," Gaius continued, "I personally would have had him recover from the blood loss before any attempt at repairing the wound, but you try controlling the elements."

Merlin gave a slight moan and twisted in his sleep, but did not wake up. Gaius looked down at the bandage and let out a professional yet irate groan. Blood was beginning to strain the wrappings a bright red and Gaius hobbled past Arthur to grab a new bundle of bandage. Arthur watched in a sort of stunned horror as Gaius gingerly pulled off the blood-soaked bandage and he saw the sheer damage done to Merlin's leg.

Arthur gnashed his teeth and felt a powerful urge to find those responsible and rip them to shreds, even though Merlin had already deftly defeated them. The blood and bone and state of the leg enraged him more than he thought possible after years and years of witnessing violence and terrible injuries. He wanted those who had done such a terrible thing to suffer.

Merlin stirred fitfully once more, and Arthur's thoughts of revenge gave way to concern as he walked closer. Gaius finished wrapping the bandage and looked at the twisting of Merlin's face, the sweat beginning to run behind his ears and soaking to his scalp. He grunted in frustration. "Oh my boy…"

He looked up at Arthur. "Can you stay with him? I know something that can deaden the pain, but it's in a patch just outside the lower town. I don't want to leave him alone."

Arthur nodded. "Of course."

Gaius bustled out with an impressive speed and was quickly out the door, leaving Arthur and Merlin alone.

Arthur stared down at the other for a long time, not trusting himself to move. But then Merlin stirred, and Arthur immediately sat in the chair besides the cot, still warm from Gaius' presence. The skin between Merlin's eyes tightened with pair and, without being fully aware of it, Arthur took the other's hand in his. His heart picked up pace but Arthur ignored it, instead rubbing one thumb slowly against the back of Merlin's hand and smiling at how the strain on the other's face lessened slightly.

Merlin's fingers were limp, and one of them caught onto the band of material that was wound into the sleeve of Arthur's chainmail. Arthur stilled his motion and stared at Merlin's dirtied but still pale finger caught on the handkerchief that Gwen had tied on his chainmail before they'd left.

"It's not a favor," she said as she tied it on, head bowed to prevent him from seeing the worried tears, "it's a promise. You must promise to come back to me so you can give it back."

"I promise," Arthur said solemnly, taking the hand she'd tied the cloth on to tilt her face towards him.

"And if he doesn't," Merlin said, in his way that was both reassuringly and somewhat jocular, "I'll be there to protect him, Gwen. Don't worry."

Merlin of course didn't take into account that Gwen would worry about him too, the idiot. And Arthur, of course…

As he gently disengaged Merlin's fingers and wound them in his own, Arthur looked down at their clasped hands beside the bright fabric of Gwen's, and sighed. He'd known, although he'd never expressly told anyone, that he loved Gwen and Merlin the most out of anyone else in the world – perhaps even equally. Just in different ways.

Merlin moved closer to Arthur's warmth in his sleep and Arthur smiled, even as his heart pounded agonizingly quickly in his chest.

He'd always thought he'd been in love with Gwen.

Now he was no longer sure.

A/N: Now I am hurting both our main men simultaneously. Well, that's one way to get back into angst.

Thanks for reading, and please review! They make me happy!