Chapter 4

The prince was unable to sleep. As much as he hated to admit it, when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Merlin lying in the clearing, covered in blood with an arrow in his back. It shivered along his soul like the screech of a banshee, grating on his consciousness. It haunted him, but he was not sure if it was the reality of the sudden brutality that could have robbed him of his servant, or the almost nightmare quality of that vision that presaged some unreal future. Arthur thrust the thought from his mind... again.

Best to get up and not be consumed by his gruesome fears, he thought. Donning some clothes, he walked to the physician's quarters, easing the door open without knocking, as he knew Gaius would be asleep. The good doctor would not mind Arthur's visit, he told himself. Merlin never knocked. Besides, he was the crown prince, he could go where he wanted. Gaius was asleep across the room, obviously within earshot if Merlin needed him, in his regular sleeping spot. That eased Arthur considerably. The physician would not have left his ward's side, even to go to his own bed, if there was any hint of fever or complication. Gaius grumbled and snorted in his sleep. Arthur glided past silently.

Merlin was still lying on his stomach, partially supported with pillows, facing the still glowing fire. His breathing was slow and even, and Arthur felt his evil dreams evaporate the moment he looked down at his friend. He felt the world sort itself out. He settled himself softly on the floor by the bed. But when he glanced over at his servant again, Merlin's eyes were open.

"Hey", the prince said softly, "I didn't mean to wake you." He paused. " How are you feeling?"

Merlin's eyes were still a bit glassy from the pain draught, but his smile deepened as he looked back at Arthur.

"Sore," said Merlin. "Really, really tired and thirsty."

"Here." He helped Merlin up a bit to give him some water, and then helped maneuver him back down. The prince poked at the fire a bit to get it going, and fed it another log.

"I hate hunting, " said Merlin softly, after few moments of silence. "Want to know why?" The prince smiled.

"That's not going to get you out of the next hunt, you know."

The servant ignored the comment and asked another question.

"Have you ever been hungry, Arthur? I mean, seriously hungry."

"I should say so! You hardly ever bring my meals on time."

Merlin sighed, and he closed his eyes in frustration or pain. The prince didn't want to guess which. Arthur could hear himself being called a prat, though no word escaped his servant's lips.

"Ok" , said Arthur at last. "What did you want to say, Merlin?"

"I hate hunting on the king's land, Arthur. All those years... I was growing up in Ealdor... " He groped with his words to try and make Arthur understand. Maybe it was a good thing he still muzzy from the drug. Maybe not. He decided to just plunge in. "Sometimes there wasn't enough food for my mum and me, and in the winter it's hard to hunt. There was always game in the king's forest, but we didn't dare enter it."

Arthur looked a little uncertain but his voice was confident. "There's good reason...", but his servant cut him off.

"My mum used to pretend she wasn't hungry so she could give the food to me. She went without so many times. Pretend for one second, Arthur that all you had to do was cross the imaginary line of the king's reserve and go hunt for what you needed for your family. Would you take the chance? Would you dare the punishment, so your mum could eat? Do you really know how long, how horribly long, the winter can be?"

The prince was shaken by Merlin's words. No, he had never thought of that in that way. Never.

"I understood what she was doing when I was five, Arthur. I didn't have a father to hunt, and neighbors sometimes gave us what they could. But it was hard and we were hungry. I couldn't really do anything to help her till I grew up a little. Fear is a strong master, but hunger is far crueler. I never got caught, but I know boys who were. Boys who didn't come back. Our neighbor Morris lost a hand, so he was hardly any good on the farm after that. There were even worse stories. You know the laws as well as I do." He stopped talking for moment, trying to shift himself a bit and grimacing. He took a breath before he continued.

"Now I hunt on the king's lands, along with you. And I know somewhere out there in the forest, is a half-grown boy, just like I used to be. He's desperate to help his family and he's hungry. He's taking a chance that he won't be killed and his family might eat tonight. And there's nothing I can do about it, because it's just the way things are." He turned from his gaze at the fire and looked straight at his prince. He would never admit to the tears he felt stinging his eyes.

"The gamekeeper would think no more of shooting that boy dead, any more than he did today, when he shot me."

The silence between them was long, but at last the prince raised his voice

"The gamekeeper will not be present in the forest when I hunt, Merlin. And a new gamekeeper is in order. My father agreed with me at last."

"What?"

"I had a talk with my father while you were lazing about. No gamekeeper on hunt days. It's a bit unconventional but it should work out. The keeper who shot you, James or Jeffrey, or whatever his name was, will be dismissed when we find someone more suitable to me."

If there was any doubt in Arthur's mind about the fall out from his discussion with his father, it was driven away by the smile that lit Merlin's face. His eyes danced and Arthur sobered when he noted their lively contrast to his servant's almost translucent skin. Merlin had lost a lot of blood. But he was alive, thought Arthur. He was alive.

Gaius chose that moment to give a loud shuddering snore, followed by three gasping snorts and before he knew it, Merlin and he were stifling their relieved, almost hysterical laughter.

"Did you really threaten to kill the gamekeeper, Arthur?"

"Oh, one imagines all kinds of things when one is wounded," said Arthur, with mocking authority. "I ought to know!"

Merlin laughed quietly and then faded in sudden exhaustion into the pillow. His eyes slipped shut, but he fought them open for a few moments to look up at Arthur once more. He reached out to pat Arthur's shoulder, where he sat on the floor. only a few inches from his pillow,

"I just wanted you to know, Arthur," he murmured.

"Go to sleep, Merlin," he responded, with a seldom heard gentleness. His servant's words had affected him deeply. There was no doubt in his heart about how he would have answered his servant's question. He knew what he would have done if he had been in his servant's shoes. And that reality shoved his world into a new place.

Merlin was already deeply asleep, weakened by his blood loss, the pain, and the effects of the medicine. Grateful and deep in thought, the crown prince of Camelot stayed by his servant's side until morning.