It's always around chapter 3 I get the plot bunnies gnawing at me, so there are more twists and stuff to come, maybe... definately... probably. ;-)
Merlin received a reception he presumed that Arthur was getting. The tent was set up for someone, someone to live in, comfortably, but always on the move. Merlin looked around, spinning on his heel as someone walked in. The bearded man. He eyed Merlin carefully, his gaze running up and down Merlin in a way that made the youth feel uncomfortable.
"Where's Arthur?" Merlin demanded.
"We're keeping you separate, just for safety's sake."
"Why? You have Arthur's word, he won't break it."
"You didn't give yours."
"I want to know that Arthur is all right," Merlin said.
"Why do you care?"
"He's my master," Merlin got it right first time. He didn't give anything away. Arthur would have been proud of him.
"That doesn't mean you have to care about him."
Merlin pondered that. The walk to the bandit's camp had given him time to think, maybe to plan. Arthur was probably doing the same. Merlin had got nervous as they had dragged him off with the bag over his head. Since he couldn't see where he was going, he stumbled several times. A few of them had been unnecessary, but Merlin did it anyway. His arms had been wrenched on occasion, where they had begun to get fed up with supporting him, but Merlin thought he could probably live with that. His clumsy servant routine had stood him in good stead the entire time he had lived in Camelot.
Some of it wasn't put on, he wasn't good with weapons, he couldn't keep hold of his sword in a fight, and Arthur was, Merlin thought, starting to accept that. It almost meant he could safely sprawl on the floor, being hopeless and clumsy so he could concentrate on looking after Arthur, and the other knights if he could.
It meant that no one saw anything. He was teased for it, but at least that helped Merlin keep the façade. Falling over was a remit he could manage. Despite all his other talents, he had never been graceful, and physically competent. He knew Arthur despaired of him, and kept throwing things at him. Merlin kept reacting but it helped him. For months Merlin had been carefully building a magical field around himself, no one could see it, but it protected him, and lessened the damage he could receive. Arthur's flying objects didn't often hurt him. Although Merlin wasn't sure if that was him or Arthur.
He had spent months watching the prince train. The things that Merlin got thrown at him did not get pelted with Arthur's full power. Merlin just figured it was Arthur. It seemed like a rather Arthur-ish thing to do, the throwing stuff, the demand to be noticed. He was the prince, Arthur thought he deserved it.
That didn't change certain things. Like Arthur's insistence that Merlin be unhurt. Merlin needed to see him. He couldn't do anything, because he didn't know where Arthur was, and he couldn't try magic in case the bandit's had something. Even if sorcery was banned in the kingdom, it didn't stop outlaws from using it. Merlin had had the 'be careful' lecture drilled into him by Gaius, and he knew to do so, and he would risk it if he thought it would help, but without Arthur in sight, he couldn't risk his safety.
Merlin backed up as the bearded man advanced.
"I may not have to, but I do care about him," Merlin said. "He's the prince of Camelot, and you won't make me betray him."
"Oh, how very brave," the man drawled, but he backed off. Merlin stopped pacing back away from him, running a circuit around the table in the centre.
"I don't think bravery comes into it. Arthur is a good man, I trust him."
"You mean you don't think that given a chance he will leave you high and dry, if he could escape."
Merlin blinked, and then he shook his head. "No, he won't leave me."
"You don't think he knows how this works. He can leave you. You're the one that pays for his behaviour."
"Not that I've seen."
"Don't worry about his broken fingers. The little prince will be fine."
"I want to see Arthur," Merlin said. "I want to know that he is all right."
"Do you really think we would hurt him, considering we can make good money from him?"
"Why would I trust you?" Merlin asked, feeling it was a good question. The man's stare became more intense, Merlin backed up a little further, almost stumbling on the small cot bed just behind him. Glancing down he froze, the sheets were a jumble of different fabrics, obviously picked up from various sources. One was very noticeable, the bright red standing out against the muted shades. Merlin couldn't see the design completely but the golden head was that of a dragon. He didn't doubt if he took a proper look at it he would see the crest of Camelot. The cloak must have belonged to a knight. The thought disturbed Merlin a little.
Merlin looked back up, moving away from the bed and trying to keep his expression neutral. The man moved forward, his stalking becoming more obvious, and then he paused by the table and lifted a jug sitting in the centre.
"Wine?" he asked.
"No, thank you," Merlin said, confused by this man's actions. There was something distinctly predatory about him. Merlin watched him warily, glancing at the doorway, hoping someone might came in, and calculating the distance, wondering if he could get to it in time. He backed up a step as the man, watching him intently, stepped a few paces to the left, blocking Merlin's run to the door.
"Not very good at accepting people's hospitality are you?"
"I'm not finding it very hospitable," Merlin retorted, trying to sound calm. As the man stepped forward Merlin held his ground, or at least he tried to. He took a step back as he watched the man's eyes flicker up and down, in a clear assessment of him and the bandit licked his lips, his eyes starting to gleam. Merlin backed up again, eyes shuttling round for inspiration as to what to do next. He had no intention of getting involved with what this man had in mind. The man smirked as he shuttled Merlin into a corner and reached up to stroke his cheek.
Arthur would have been proud of Merlin's reflexes as he ducked, and kicked out, catching the man on the back of his knee and knocking him off balance. He gave a snarl and grabbed for Merlin, getting hold of his hair. Merlin yelped as he dragged himself free, falling over and hitting the edge of the bed. He pulled himself up using the sheets, getting confirmation at the same time that it was the Pendragon symbol on the red material. He shuffled backwards as the man bore down on him. Glancing around Merlin caught sight of the box that was pushed under the cot bed. He focused for a second and the box shifted slamming against the man's foot and sending him sprawling onto the bed. Merlin rolled and lurched up to get away.
A hand latched onto the waistband of his trousers, and he was dragged backwards, pulled onto the bed with brute force. As he landed Merlin sent out a shockwave of power and pushing the man sent him flying backwards. At the same time Merlin heard Arthur's voice calling his name, concern clear in his tone. Merlin didn't know why Arthur was yelling for him but at that precise moment he didn't care, as he rolled off the bed, his intention to go the shortest route under the table towards the exit, he reacted almost by instinct.
"Arthur!" he bellowed as he was grabbed again, voice rising in pitch as the man took another forceful grip of his hair, his thick fingers twining in tightly. The man's other hand latched onto his waistband again. Merlin tried to kick him and looked for something that he could levitate at the man's head. Merlin gasped as he was thrown back across the tent, crashing into the cot bed, the frame slamming into his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. Gasping for breath he rolled of the bed and tried to duck out of the way.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Across the clearing Galen, the designated healer among the bandits, had tried to move around Arthur, hoping that he could run and get Merlin, to prevent Arthur from heading out into the camp. As Merlin replied to Arthur, Galen didn't get a chance. Arthur's reaction was instantaneous, not only responding to Merlin calling his name, but understanding the tone. Galen was pushed aside and Arthur slammed his fist into the throat of the man on his left and then crashed his left arm over the man's right, knocking the sword from his grasp. Arthur caught it as it dropped and he swung to deflect the sword of the man on his right and then smacked the hilt into the bandit's face. Galen watched from his position sprawled out on the floor and Arthur jumped over him, running off.
As he did so Galen immediately realised what was happening was not some elaborate escape plan that the two captives had devised, or pre-arranged on the off-chance that something like this might happen. The nearest boundary to the camp lay to the left, but Arthur didn't take that escape route. He headed in the direction that Merlin's voice had come from. Galen rolled to his feet. The two men Arthur had attacked were sprawled on the floor, unable to move. Three of the other guards had headed off after Arthur instead.
A few of the bandits had hardly believed that it had taken eight men to get Arthur down. Galen however, did. Some of them now and again would sneak into Camelot to get some supplies. The time Galen had gone a tournament was in progress and the citadel teemed with more people than the usual population. Strangers wandering around were commonplace during those times and blending in was a little easier. Galen had gotten the chance to go and see some of the bouts, and had witnessed some of Arthur's fights, including the final against Valiant. Although it was nearly two years ago, it stayed imprinted on Galen's memory. He had heard that Arthur was one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom, and after seeing him in action Galen was rather inclined to think Arthur was the best. Not that he had told anyone else. Galen didn't want to be seen hero-worshipping someone that they were supposed to hate, and be fighting against.
Rather than run after the others, he got to his feet and ran off to find I'lian. Their leader was probably going to be needed to sort this out.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Merlin's head exploded with stars as he was punched again. He felt himself flop onto the floor and he fought to get up again. As he struggled to get upright, to get anywhere, he felt another brutal blow, and he realised his protection wasn't working. Probably because he was having a good deal of trouble concentrating. He was trying to head in the vague direction of the door flap to try and find some help. The man slammed a knee into his back and Merlin dropped to the floor again, not entirely comprehending why he couldn't move, and he couldn't seem to get any air into his lungs. Just as the darkness was threatening on the edge of vision the weight was pulled off him, as the bandit was barrelled into by a very enraged Arthur Pendragon.
Rolling over Merlin looked up in shock as Arthur punched the bandit with as much force as he could muster, sending him flying across the tent. The three men who had given chase burst in. The set of Arthur's shoulders told Merlin that Arthur was keen to land another blow but with the arrival of the others he stayed where he was, acting as a physical barrier between them and Merlin. Merlin moved slowly, sitting behind Arthur which was where Arthur clearly wanted him.
The standoff remained filled with tension, the three men unsure what to do. The dark haired bandit struggled upward, glaring at Arthur. He put a hand to his nose, trying to stem the blood that had started to flow. Arthur gave a low guttural growl and clenched his fists when the man took a step forward.
"Take the prince back to his tent," the bandit ordered. The three men looked at each other, then at Arthur and Merlin, then back to their comrade.
"I am not leaving Merlin with you, since you clearly cannot be trusted."
"You attacked me, by your rules, he should pay for it."
"You started it," Arthur snapped, a line that could have sounded childish, but the low, angry tone made it anything but. Arthur put a lot of threat into those three words.
"What is going on?" the leader's voice suddenly demanded. "Barak?" he glared at the dark haired man. The three guards separated to allow I'lian through.
"He attacked me," Barak announced, glaring at Arthur. Arthur glared back, he didn't feel very inclined to repeat himself, but he guessed he ought to do so anyway.
"You vowed that Merlin would be left unhurt so long as I obeyed your rules."
"And you haven't," Barak said. I'lian said nothing, he looked at Barak carefully. Arthur watched them, his body thrumming with tension, he heard Merlin shuffling behind him, moving from a sitting to a kneeling position. Arthur reached his hand out. He felt Merlin grab his wrist and Arthur braced his arm a little as Merlin's other hand latched on a little higher up as he used Arthur's arm like a rope to haul himself up. He wobbled a little as he got upright, and Arthur put a hand on Merlin's hip to keep him steady. The action made Merlin jump. He didn't look too badly damaged, but his eyes were a little out of focus, his clothes were rumpled, and he definitely looked like he had been in some sort of scuffle.
"Are you all right, Merlin?"
"Yes, Sire."
Satisfied with that Arthur turned back. "You forced me to break the rules. Merlin is my responsibility and you were hurting him," Arthur said. Barak's face darkened with anger, but as he sent a sidelong glance to I'lian the expression faltered. The leader looked back, his expression neutral but Arthur got the feeling this was not the first time that something like this had happened within the bandit's camp.
I'lian seemed to pull himself together, meeting Arthur's gaze, and then he looked to Merlin. Merlin's hand tightened on the sleeve of Arthur's shirt.
"Arthur, it's all right," Merlin murmured. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me."
"I can assure you, your servant will not be left alone with my cousin again. If you would return to your tent My Lord, I think I can allow one indiscretion to cancel out the other."
With an indication of I'lian's hand two of the guards stepped forward. Merlin presumed the other was likely to stay with him. Arthur only moved to make sure he was able to cover Merlin against everyone in the room. I'lian's eyes narrowed.
"I do not want to conflict over this, Arthur," he said.
"It's My Lord to you, and Merlin stays within my sight."
"For God's sake, just gag and hogtie the brat!" Barak rumbled.
"Hold your tongue cousin," I'lian snarled at him. His eyes stayed locked with Arthur's. Merlin watched carefully, not entirely sure what was going on. There was an undercurrent that he couldn't entirely fathom.
"You want my cooperation, then I keep Merlin with me. You seem to treat this as if it is nothing more than a simple transaction. I can do the same, but I will not allow the random abuse of someone in my care."
Merlin frowned as he heard the tone of Arthur's voice. He was phrasing himself with particular attention to detail.
"Arthur…"
"Shut up, Merlin."
The intonation of that was one Merlin obeyed. He stayed quiet, focused his eyes on Arthur's back and waited. Eventually I'lian nodded. He looked at the three guards.
"Return the prince, and his servant, to the other tent."
Merlin felt Arthur's hand on his upper arm, making sure he had a good grip before he got Merlin moving. I'lian stepped back to let them pass, and he turned to murmur something to Galen, who was hanging behind him, watching the scene with shock. Arthur didn't pay them any attention, he just concentrated on getting Merlin moving and safely settled with him.
Then he would worry about what might come next.