I greatly apologise to VHunter07 for not sending this her way, but I wanted this out for Christmas as a present to you all, but I only actually wrote it this morning. So any mistakes are mine, and feel free to call me on them.
..
Arthur wasn't sure what was happening. Or to be more exact, he knew exactly what was going on, but his mind couldn't quite accept it. What he was sure of was that the image of Ragley swinging the blade down towards his servant would scar him for the rest of his days. His heart was hammering in his chest, and each breath burned through his torso, though he paid little attention. The focus of everyone in the clearing was on the two figures in the centre.
He was screaming, the prince realised, openly pleading for Ragley to stop, to let him live. Anything for Merlin to live. His shouts were having no effect though, and his entire being twisted in fear.
When the blow came, it wasn't what anyone had expected, and for a split second all anyone could do was stare mindlessly, mouths open in shock. A bolt from a crossbow was embedded in Ragley's chest, the fletching quivering as the bandit tried to draw breath. He gurgled, blood filling his airways, and he turned his gaze to the prince, even as his legs gave why beneath him. The prince could only interpret the look to mean something along the lines of 'how did you do that?' before the once leader crumpled to the ground completely and was still. A strange silence enveloped the clearing. No one was sure what had just happened, and now there was no leader for them to turn to.
Then the entire atmosphere was shattered. Arrows started raining down from every direction with deadly accuracy. The bandits were dropping like flies, but the remaining few had grown wiser and were seeking cover a fast as they could manage, leaving Arthur and Merlin unguarded. Without even hesitating, the prince sprinted to his servant's side, grabbing his arm and hauling the slim boy over his uninjured shoulder. As soon as he was sure he wouldn't drop his burden, Arthur was running again, taking the most direct route out of the clearing, away from their captors, trusting the arrows to distract them sufficiently to not follow.
Almost as soon as he had cleared the tree line, he was cut off by a line of soldiers, and for half a second he tensed, ready to turn and flee – knowing fighting was well beyond him at this stage – but then he recognised their armour. Camelot.
The relief that hit him was enough to drive him to his knees, and it took everything he had not to pass out then and there. But he was still holding his servant, and he needed to ensure his safety first.
"Sire?" One of the soldiers rushed forward, reaching out to support him. Another stepped out of the line to try and take Merlin, but the prince held on fiercely. Once he was sure he wouldn't hit the floor again, he forced himself upright, taking a tentative step forwards.
"My father? Where's the king?" His voice slipped back into command naturally. It was a slight comfort to know that he hadn't lost that.
"He is on the western side of the clearing Sire. He will be here momentarily," one of the men informed him, dipping his head in subservience. Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, trying not to stagger as a new wave of nausea hit. He could almost feel the poison of the infection raging through his bloodstream and knew it could be a thousand times worse for Merlin. The boy was suspiciously silent and still, though Arthur was relatively sure he was still at least semi conscious.
"Arthur!" The booming voice of the king rang out, and the prince looked up to see his father striding towards him, his expression carefully schooled into a calm facade. Arthur allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he saw his father was unharmed.
"Sire," he responded respectfully, dipping his head, then having to blink as blood rushed to his brain and his eyesight faltered. The king saw his discomfort, and immediately turned to a soldier.
"Bring our horses. We ride for Camelot. Tell the men to finish here, before returning."
"Their camp is in that direction," Arthur supplied, indicating as well as he could with an injured arm. "About ten minutes walk. Most of their men came to the clearing with us, but some may have stayed behind."
The soldier nodded, before dashing off in the other direction.
"Are you hurt?" The king asked when they were out of earshot of the others. The genuine concern in his voice was rare, and Arthur felt a rush of affection for his father.
"My shoulder is infected, but it's not too bad. Merlin's injuries are worse." Uther's eyes grazed over the serving boy, flickering with something like sympathy.
"Gaius will be able to tend to you both when we return. I'm sure one of the guards can carry the boy," he hinted, about to gesture one of them forward.
"It's fine father. I-" he cut himself off, searching for the words. "He's been hurt protecting me. I'm... unwilling to let him out of my sight for now." The king gave him a look as though he was worried that his son had gone mad, but he said no more about it.
The horses were brought to them, and Uther personally helped Arthur lever Merlin over the back of the animal before the prince settled himself in the saddle.
The ride to Camelot seemed long and painful, each movement of the horse sending agony through the prince. At some stage, the pain had overwhelmed Merlin and he had lost all grip with reality and was lost in a painless slumber. Arthur wasn't entirely sure whether to be happy he was free of the pain, or worried that he seemed to be slipping away. He spent most of the journey varying between the two.
The king was content to ride in silence, recognising that his son was far away. Arthur knew it would never last; soon he would have to recount everything that had happened, relive everything. He didn't know if he could stand it.
When the spires and towers of his home came into view, Arthur felt a savage grin light his face. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that it was over. That he was finally free, and both he and Merlin were still alive. It was over. The relief was so sweet he could almost taste it, and when they rode through the gates, the people on the streets let out a great cheer of joy.
Somewhere people were spreading the news that the prince had returned, and the crowds on the streets multiplied into great array of cheering citizens. It warmed Arthur's heart to see how much the people cared. This would always be his home, and it was here that he would always return.
Once they reached the courtyard, servants rushed forwards, taking the reins, helping the obviously wounded prince off his mount, as well as carefully taking Merlin down too. This time Arthur let them; he doubted that he had the strength to support him anymore.
"Arthur, I must speak to the council. Go to Gaius and let him tend to you. I will find you when I can."
"Yes father," he answered, before turning and following the servants who were carrying Merlin away.
..
Gaius eyed Arthur's wounds with shrewd speculation.
"When did you receive this, sire?" He asked, carefully rotating the prince's arm to see the level of movement.
"When I was captured. Please Gaius, I'll be fine. You need to look after Merlin." The old physician didn't even glance at his ward. Seeming him still and pale hurt almost too much to bear.
"I have a duty to you sire, before anyone else," he muttered, even while he yearned to help Merlin.
"You have a duty to do what I say Gaius. And I'm telling you to look after Merlin. He needs your aid far more than I for now." For a second, Gaius did nothing, weighing the options, then with a sigh, he hurried to his ward's side.
It was common knowledge that he had grown to love the boy as a son, and even though they had fought, it was all but forgotten now. Gaius would always forgive Merlin, for anything he did, simply because he would always deserve it. He had to sacrifice so much for his destiny, that the physician felt he had to make his life as easy as possible. For someone so young, Merlin had known so much suffering, and yet he wasn't bitter. When the world raged at him, all he did was smile back and keep going. It was a bravery only seen in a few special people, and Gaius was in awe of his ward for it. Not that he told him, he didn't need the boy getting a big head.
Even a physician as experienced as Gaius would shudder at the sight of Merlin's back. Behind him Arthur gasped quietly, and muttered a curse. Getting straight to work, Gaius set about cleaning the wounds, applying poultice after poultice to clear the infections, as well as suppress the pain. Every now and then, Merlin stirred slightly, mumbling, but he never woke up completely.
The day was almost finished by the time Gaius wrapped bandages around his ward, before covering him with a blanket and leaving him to rest. Arthur, who had done his best to stay attentive, had lost his battle and was dozing quietly in a chair on the other side of the room. His forehead was creased, and he looked anything but peaceful.
"Sire?" The physician asked quietly, touching his good shoulder to wake him. With a start, the prince woke, jerking in the seat.
"G-Gaius. Sorry. Merlin?" His voice was thick with sleep, but he cleared his throat.
"Sleeping, Sire. May I treat your wound now, my lord?" He asked raising an eyebrow that told Arthur this was not a question and if he didn't say yes he would be in serious trouble.
"Of course Gaius," he mumbled, sitting up and offering his arm. He watched with a morbid fascination as the physician cleaned the wound, stitched it as best he could and the bound it neatly. The pain was blazing viciously beneath the skin, and he found that it made the wound itch horribly.
"Something for the pain, Sire?" Gaius offered him a bottle of a green, viscous liquid. Eying it with slight trepidation, the prince decided that he was sick of having to fight the agony and downed it in one. He grimaced at the taste and texture, causing Gaius to chuckle quietly.
"Is this a sleeping draught?" Arthur asked suddenly, as he felt the first signs of oblivion claiming his mind. Without answering, the old man helped support the prince into Merlin's side room, and dumped him unceremoniously on the bed. "Thank you Gaius," he mumbled as he began to drift.
"No Sire. Thank you for bring Merlin home." It was the last thing Arthur heard before he slipped away.
..
There you have it. Sorry again for such a wait. I didn't mean to I promise. I'm fairly sure this will be done in the next two chapters, but don't worry, I have a plan.
Once I've got this story finished, I'm going back and completely rewriting the beginning of it. Just all the section before their capture, so if you have some weird attachment to those chapters you might want to save them somewhere. The idea from them no longer really fits with the story, as you might have gathered by the gaping plot holes, so I'm just going back to square one. I am however going to be using a very similar skeleton for a new Merlin story (details of which will remain secret hehe).