An Off Day

Words: 2,110
Characters: Merlin, Arthur, Knights, Gaius
Warnings: Little bit of violence.
Summary: An off day just gets worse.
A/N: Geeze, I'm on a roll! Sorry, ahem. This is for guest reviewer Kirsten, who wanted a clumsy!Merlin. This... probably isn't exactly what you had in mind, actually. Sorry. But hopefully you still like it. It also isn't what I originally planned to do next, but it seems a number of my ideas/your prompts I am going to have a bit of trouble with to keep to oneshots. So I thought I'd post this while I try and figure that out. Thanks to battlemaiden518 who suggested two websites to me, the Merlin wiki page and oldenglishtranslator, for spells. I also discovered one more, look up nevergetscredit merlin spells and it should be the first result (was for me, anyway).

Merlin was not happy.

Merlin was sick. His stomach was roiling about like an upset sea, swishing and swashing about to the point he was surprised he didn't hear the waves when he opened his mouth. His head pounded, too many beats per second to count (if he could focus enough to think about counting), and each one pushed against his skull. And Merlin was tired; exhausted, drained, all of the above.

Yes, Merlin was downright miserable and feeling, he thought, justifiably sorry for himself. It was the kind of day he just wanted to curl up in bed and let the sun coming through the window be his only company until he was better.

But he couldn't even get that little luxury today, could he? Oh no, today just had to be the day the council received reports of mercenaries getting dangerously close to Camelot, so of course today had to be the day where Arthur and nine other knights headed out to confront them. Were Merlin any normal servant he would take this as a chance for a day off and rest, just like he had wanted.

But Merlin, as many had begun to realise, was no ordinary servant. Though only one of the party currently riding into the woods knew just how extraordinary he was.

"Are you sure you should have come?" asked Lancelot, bringing his horse up by Merlin's. "You look terrible."

Merlin attempted a smile but, with him still feeling rather sorry for himself, it was a pale comparison to his usual one. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"You do know there are others who will protect Arthur," said Lancelot, and it wasn't really a question. They'd had this conversation before.

"Can never be too careful," replied Merlin, gripping the reins of his horse as a wave of dizziness fell over him.

"You know you're lucky Arthur even let you join us."

Merlin nodded. He was. Arthur had taken one look at his servant and ordered him away, but Merlin was adamant and excelled at not following orders. It had taken a lot of convincing (and possibly leaning on Lancelot slightly as his strength dwindled) but in the end Arthur had given up, growling that if he passed out he would be carrying himself back.

"I have to do this, Lancelot," Merlin said now. "It's - "

"Your duty," Lancelot sighed. "I know. I understand. Just…" he watched as his friend leaned forward on his horse slightly, his face turning, if possible, more pale. "Be careful."

Merlin grinned tiredly at him. "Aren't I always?"

That didn't comfort Lancelot any.

The battle was turning out to be a fierce one. The reports of eight bad guys turned out to be, in reality, closer to fifteen. The knights were well-trained and holding their own, but Merlin couldn't help feel glad he had come in the end. He had managed to divert a mercenary here, knock one out there, and quietly, subtly, give Camelot the advantage.

But something was wrong. His magic, once he'd reached for it, was roiling about just as bad as his stomach. It was fizzling slightly, occasionally jerking out of his grasp as he desperately tried to focus past the growing pounding in his head. His vision was occasionally turning blurry, and Merlin found himself having to lean heavier and heavier against the tree behind which he hid.

"For - forbærnen firgenholt," Merlin stuttered.

Where a tree branch should have cracked and fallen on two of their enemies, instead nothing happened, and a knight went down. Sir Wynn, Merlin was pretty sure. Panic surged within him, seeing the dagger now sticking out of the man's leg where the chainmail ended, and blood was quickly falling to the ground.

"Forbærnen firgenholt!"

Still, nothing happened, and one of the mercenaries was holding a sword above Sir Wynn's heart. "Come on," muttered Merlin as his magic danced in and out of his control, "please…"

Many things happened in the next moment. Merlin tried his spell one last time, the effort making his head want to explode, just as Gwaine stepped forward and parried the mercenary before his sword could reach the target. Sir Wynn manage to stumble painfully to his feet, and a loud cracking was heard overhead - overhead as in, over Merlin's head. He looked up with watery eyes just in time to see a large, heavy branch tumbling quickly towards him.

Merlin's sluggish brain did its best to register what was about to happen and how to avoid it in time, but his head was heavy and his vision was beginning to get spotty. So he only half managed to dive out of the way in time; instead of the branch hitting him on the head, it landed on his legs, and Merlin went down with an undignified cry of pain.

Gwaine was dispatching his third smelly bastard of the morning when he heard it. Just as he'd been getting cocky, a shout and a harsh thud reached his ears that did not sound like some dirtbag going down. Looking around, his eyes were drawn to the base of a nearby tree where a short crop of jet black hair was poking out amongst the leaves. Oh, that wasn't good.

"Merlin?" Gwaine called, quickly making his way to the boy who he could now see was struggling fiercely against something. Unfortunately, he hadn't been the only one distracted by the noise.

One of the last mercenaries, who appeared to have already been fleeing in that direction, beat Gwaine to Merlin and pulled out his slightly rusted sword with a vicious grin. "No you don't!" growled Gwaine, running forward despite knowing he wouldn't be there on time. But suddenly the ugly wart's eyes widened and he froze, falling to the ground dead a moment later. Percival stood behind him, his sword bloodied, and Gwaine almost sagged in relief. Instead, he finally reached his friend and the two turned their attention to Merlin.

He was still conscious, but barely by the looks of it. A thick chunk of tree was pinning both his legs to the ground, and judging from Merlin's pinched expression and the constant gasps escaping his mouth, it was painful. Gwaine knelt before him. "Hold still, Merlin. We'll get you out." Merlin's struggling continued but for a moment before he slowed, bleary eyes looking up at Gwaine. His face was flushed where before it had been parchment pale, and Gwaine grimaced. "Don't you worry, mate." There was a small moment of silence where Gwaine tried to keep eye contact with his friend, before another, louder cry escaped Merlin's lips as Percival lifted the branch. Merlin's hands scrunched up in the dirt and he pushed his forehead against the ground as he tried to regain control. The second show of pain worried Gwaine more than the first - surely getting rid of the branch shouldn't have hurt like that?

"Gwaine," Percival's expression was grim as he called his fellow knight. Gwaine stood up with a quick reassurance to Merlin and came round to inspect the damage.

Oh.

Merlin's knees were bent further than they should be, one foot jutting out at an awkward angle. Gwaine stood for a moment in silence, his mind frozen. This could be fixed, couldn't it? Gaius could do something for his ward, surely. Surely.

"Gwaine," Percival said again, quieter this time. "We need to get him out of here."

Gwaine nodded, his brain kicking back into gear. "We should strap his legs." He looked over to the other knights; the battle had been won, all mercenaries dead or fled. Good. That meant they could focus on what was important. "We need to find some sticks, sturdy ones…" Gwaine trailed off, realising that involved moving and he really didn't want to leave his friend, who was now mysteriously quiet, his back rising and falling quickly with his breaths.

"I'll go find some," said Percival. Gwaine nodded gratefully and with one last glance at Merlin, Percival began walking further away from the others, his eyes roaming the ground. Gwaine rushed back to where Merlin's head rested on the ground, his eyes clinched shut.

He was just wondering if the servant had passed out when he heard a quiet "it's bad, isn't it?"

Gwaine paused a moment before answering. "It's… not good."

"And I thought I was feeling bad before," Merlin joked through harsh breaths. Gwaine, not knowing what to say, only rested a hand on the back of Merlin's neck and continued to sit in company. It wasn't long before they were noticed by the others.

"Gwaine, what - " Elyan's eyes widened when he saw Merlin, or more specifically, Merlin's legs. Turning, he quickly called for the prince.

"Oh god, I'm not going to hear the end of this," Merlin groaned quietly. Gwaine allowed a small smirk.

"Merlin!" Arthur rushed up to crouch in front of both of them, Lancelot right behind. A few of the other knights hovered by looking concerned, except for one who was catering to Sir Wynn's wound off to the side. "What the hell happened?"

"Just… bad luck I guess…" Merlin said weakly. He did not open his eyes.

"A tree branch," explained Gwaine. "Percival's gone to find something to strap his legs to. We have to get him back to Gaius."

Arthur nodded, his eyes not leaving his manservant. "Only you, Merlin," he said quietly.

"Safe to assume I'll be getting a day off for this one, I'd say."

Arthur rolled his eyes and said with barely concealed affection, "don't count on it, you idiot."

"Well?" Gaius turned from the closed door of Merlin's room to see a cluster of Camelot nobility filling his chambers. Unsurprised, he walked down the narrow steps to where they stood.

"Merlin was… very lucky," said Gaius slowly. He could see Lancelot's knowing eyes from just behind Arthur. Merlin wasn't lucky, he was magical, and they both knew that was what had saved him this time. "His legs will heal, with time. But he is in a lot of pain, and will be for some time."

"Can… can we see him?" asked Arthur.

Gaius hesitated. "It would be best not to crowd him, sire. He is supposed to be resting."

Gwaine sighed and stepped back, his hands in the air as if in defeat. "Alright lads, give the princess some time with him. We'll all get our turn."

Slowly the other knights regretfully filed out of the room, Lancelot looking most hesitant. Arthur gave them a nod of appreciation and turned back to Gaius. The older man simply gestured to Merlin's door and went to sit down at his table. It was only mid-afternoon, but gods could he use a break.

Arthur opened Merlin's door without knocking to see the younger boy lying back in his bed with his focus out the window. His legs were covered by a blanket, but Arthur readily remembered how they had looked out in the woods. He shuddered at the thought. "Looks like you were wrong, then,"said Merlin without looking away from the window.

"Oh really?"asked Arthur. "Please, do explain this one to me."

Merlin turned to him with a grin. "I didn't have to carry myself back after all."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, well. You didn't pass out, did you? That was the deal."

"I don't know,"said Merlin thoughtfully, "I think I may have blacked out for a moment there. The pain was..." He stopped, no longer sounding so light-hearted.

Arthur nodded. He had a rather overwhelming urge to apologise, but he bit down on it and said instead "I was right too, though. You really shouldn't have gone today. It'd be best if you stayed home next time, I think."

Merlin turned to him, looking like he'd just been fired. "What?"

Arthur smirked, knowing how it would irk his stupidly loyal servant. He acted like it was a tragedy whenever Arthur told him he wasn't coming. "Oh yes, this definitely proves it. You're better off here." He paused, his smirk growing. "Don't want your delicate frame getting damaged, do we?"

It was a strange reversal of roles as he ducked a pillow immediately thrown at his head and stepped out of Merlin's room with a laugh.

Kirsten, if you'd prefer something a little different, let me know and I'll try writing something different as well :)