Sleep has become a novely, right along with cleanliness, he would spend half the night tossing and turning and the other half watching Merlin toss and turn. The men didn't host nightly orgies, or pay much attention to Merlin at all - except when they were raping him.
He woke from a restless nap to splashing, at first he thought of children playing in the water before a cold wash of horor over took him. He sat up abruptly, but found no relief in the lack of frolicking children.
At first glimpse it looked like Daub was drowning Merlin, a very naked and shaking Merlin who had his arms trussed behind his back waist deep in water and a sack cloth over his head.
Scar face was watching from the shore but the others paid them no mind. The water was deep enough that he couldn't actually see what Daub was doing, but that didn't mean he didn't know.
Arthur averted his eyes until it was over, the giants loud grunt of release unmistakable. Daub sloshed out of the water tossing Merlins at Arthur, "At least he smells better now, eh?"
Arthur spat at the giants feet. Daub chortled grabbing up his bag and tossing a morsel at Merlin, "Eat something boy" he said "you get any skinnier and it'll be like fucking a pile of bones."
Arthur wanted to throw it at the man, but he didn't. They were givne barely enough food as it was. Merlin to in shock to do more than lay limp and fragile on the ground needed Arthur's help removing the sack cloth - his hands shook to much to do it himself.
Merlin didn't say a word as he panted dragging in lung full after lung full of fresh air, he just reached out a wet and trembling hand and grasped tightly at Arthur. Arthur could see scar face watching them thoughtfully over his shoulder and shivered.
Scar face tossed a pair of breeches at Merlin watching as he dressed with a calculating gleam in his eye. "Such loyalty between you" he murmured stroking Merlins wet hair, "what would you do for your loyal guard dog, I wonder."
"Leave him alone" Arthur said his words almost a plea for mercy, "havent you already done enough?"
"We are four men stuck wandering the forests far from the sort of establishments that might provided a more comly and morally acceptable entertainment," he reminded, "we'll take what we want."
"Besides, what are morals but a rich mands decree that refuses us commoners our small pleasures?" scar face asked looking directly at Arthur. "What you are doing is punishable by death in Camelot" Arthur stated, "and it is no small thing what you and your men have done to my m- prince."
Scar face stared at him coldly. "So silent little one, have you no words for yourself?" he asked turning his attentions back to Merlin. "Morholt, come here" scar face commanded and a tall lanky man trotted over. He was neither ugly nor handsome but what Merlin and he noted first was the necklace of bones he wore around his neck, "You hollered?"
"You've never had a prince, have you?" scar face asked, Merlin made a small sound in the back of his throat.
"Cant say that I have" the man agreed easily enough stepping closer, inspecting Merlin like he was a horse at the market, "He has a pretty mouth for a boy" he concluded.
Scar face nodded, "Yes, he does."
"No! No more, please no more!" Merlin pleaded looking around wildly for any hint of humanity in these men. "Don't be like that, no one likes a whore who pretends he don't like it."
Scar face looked on with dispassionate eyes for a moment before he brought out his riding crop. "Tie him to that tree" he said stroking the leather absently, the men grabbed Merlin and dragged him kicking and biting to the large oak.
"No" scar face said lightly, "not him, the blond one."
Arthur did not resist. Scar face nodded as though he had anticipated this but otherwise ignored Arthur turning to Merlin, "You will kneel at Morholt's feet and bring him pleasure."
Merlin shook his head in refusal. Scar face frowned darkly, "You will give him pleasure" he repeated running the leather crop along Merlin's cheek, "or I will give your champion pain."
"Don't, not for anything" Arthur hissed at him even though could not see him, and he knew his answer when the riding crop bit into his back, once, twice, three times. This was child's play, which was not to say it did not sting like the devil. It did.
But it was an absolving pain. He grit his teeth and bore it focusing past the pain onto the reason.
Out here with no kingdom to run, no father to please and nothing but forest and crude men, and Merlin, for company he found his reason. Camelot was his fathers, and now he new Merlin was his.
Love didn't conquer all, but it made the pain bearable.
His tunic was thoroughly ruined he would have it burned on there return home, sticky, and stained with blood. The riding crop bit into his skin and he kept quiet, he couldn't see Merlin but he knew if he gave even the tiniest hint that this was beyond bearing Merlin would end it. He would lay down his body for these men, if Arthur asked it, and maybe even if he didn't.
Gods help him, he'd fallen for a soft hearted fool, hadn't he?
Pain flared across his back and he buried it with banter. "I bet your sister could do better!" he mocked his mouth twisted into something between a grimace and a grin, "no, wait, I'm sure even Merlin could do better Daub!"
Merlin makes a strangled noise that must be the lovechild of a laugh and a sob.
Daub lays into him a bit harder but Merlin is grinning, he cant see it but he can practically feel it somehow - a lightness about the heart, which made absolutely no sense but he didn't rightly care. If he wanted to think Merlin was grinning, then he'd go on thinking Merlin was bloody grinning!
Seven became eight, and eight became nine and then it stopped and he heard the sound of someone walking on there knees and the rustle of laces being undone.
He listened no more after that, he focused on the sharp pain radiating from his back; abstractly wondering if he would have the courage to stop had the situation been reversed, this nagging thought plagued him for the rest of the daylight hours during which he did not look at Merlin, not once.
It hurt to much.
If Arthur looked at his friend he'd have to see how badly everything had gone - how much he'd failed - and he couldn't do that right now. He needed to pretend that everything was alright, just for a little while. He could barely think beyond the swell of hate and vengeance simmering below his thoughts whenever he looked at Merlin, and right now he needed a clear head to think.
He needed a plan.
This messenger of theirs couldn't of taken any longer if he'd stopped to pluck every flower between here and Camelot. They had to leave and soon, or there might not be enough left of Merlin to carry home.
That very evenining Arthur hatched a plan, a few days back he's snatched up some belladonna roots in the hopes that a chance might arise to use them. He was no herbalist but he knew the effects of this fragile looking plant, after all it had been used on him once by his own physician thereafter he'd vowed to learn off all the plants that were potent enough to fell a man.
The bandits ordered him about as usual and he obeyed doing nothing to garner there attentions but when they were busy peering into there cups becoming more and more drunk he slipped in some of the crushed roots and waited for the effects to kick in. It did not take long. Between the strong ale they consumed and the heavy dose of belladonna thir captors where snoring into there cups.
Arthur had half a mind to slit there throats as they slept but that would make him no better than them. No, when he dealt with them it would be by the stricture of a knights code, or before the courts of Camelot.
He freed Daubs dagger and cut his and Merlins ropes, "Come on then" he said leading his manservant by the elbow, "I know you like being a prince and all, but you can just carry on bossing me about at Camelot" he commented, "its not like you won't anyhow."
Merlin smiled, a small trembling thing, and let him take the lead following behind as trustingly as always. Arthur glanced back at the bandits, assuring himself that they where still slumbering before he and Merlin disappeared into the forest.
"That contraption around your neck needs a smithie to remove, there are no keyholes…I checked one night while you slept" Arthur said quietly. Merlin frowned, "You were looking at me while I slept" he repeated and Arthur flushed, "Not looking looking, just - looking, you know to see if I could get it off."
"Not like that, okay, not like that" Arthur mumbled grinding his teeth a flush rising on his cheeks, Merlin's frown trembled into a sloppy grin as he shuffled along, he masked his limp atrociously but Arthur noted the effort and did not comment.
Merlin's grin widened and Arthur's blush darkened, "You where looking, admit it!" he exclaimed as though this were some great revelation, and not at all a trite and childish subject to pursue. "Yes, well I look at you all the time. I'm quite regularly inflicted with your presence, at all hours of the day" he says but there is no malice, only a hint of familiar banter lacing his words.
As they tromped through the woods Merlin gamely keeping up he noticed from time to time the swirl of gold that would flare up in Merlin's iris's but nothing more came of it, on the sixth time he caught him at it he asked what he was doing.
"Trying to use my magic" he explained, "been trying since we got caught but so far nothing, not even a tingle."
"A what?"
"You know, a tingle, a rush, the feeling you get when you walk out into the arena with your armor all shiny and gleaming?"
Arthur nodded, he'd never thought of it that way. He'd never really defined that feeling that overcame him when he stepped onto the field that rush of nerves and determination and that overabundance of pride when the crowds - Merlin - cheered and he knew he'd done well by his fathers smile.
"Well, I get that to you know" Merlin said explaining in soft sibilant words a dose of pride interwoven. "I don't get a-" Arthur breaks off at Merlins knowing look, "alright, fine, a little rush, that's all." Merlin folded his arms silently and Arthur cracked. Merlin could be like a dog with a bone, it was usually best to let him have his way.
"Alright already enough with the look."
Merlin nodded and unfolded his arms, appeased. "So, no tingle?" Arthur asked his lips quirking upwards, Merlins did the same his eyes loosing some of the shadows when they rested on Arthur.
"No tingle" he said and they grinned at each other like idiots, because really, what was there to grin about? It was growing darker every second and they where in the forest, Camelot many leagues away, and bandits where to be chasing them soon enough.
But they where alive, and free, and Merlin was grinning at him like he used to - and it was enough to merit the silly grin on his face that was no doubt only a faction less ridiculous than Merlin's.
They made camp beneath a solid oak that was hollowed out in the middle and was just large enough for him and Merlin to crawl into if they slept close. It was warm and near to cozy and Merlin was tucked close to his shoulder out of sheer necessity. Merlin whined, Arthur grunted and they settled down for the night, and if Arthur ended up with Merlin more across his lap than his side in the morning, he didn't mind and if Merlin was embarrassed it didn't show.