In response to your request Emachinescat, I did get my act together to write this chapter.
Plus halfway though it it became a thoughts chapter and link to the next segment. In which there will be much drama!
Poor Merlin, Arthur discovered, had wet himself during the beating. Arthur hadn't realised at the time, so he guessed no one else really had. Neither of them cared what anyone else thought. But it added another edge to Arthur's simmering emotions.
The camp around them was riddled with its own tensions. Arthur was going to make them a good ransom, Uther would pay up, and if for some reason he didn't, other people would take Arthur. Some of the men consoled themselves with those thoughts. Others felt worried, this was a risky business, and Arthur and Merlin were a risk. A risk that that had been added to by using them as entertainment.
Underneath those thoughts the anger simmered. The bandits followed I'lian, and all of them liked Galen, who never meant any harm. Like the boy who had been beaten, to hide their embarrassment, but an act that in the end seemed to preserve it, when Galen had woken and the bandits had known what his reaction would be to the turn of events.
In the end I'lian could not refuse his son's desperate pleas. Especially when they turned into demands, which made Galen think he ought to stand up and just go and find Arthur and Merlin himself. His son wanted to see them, and make sure they were all right.
The captive pair had been in the tent for the afternoon. Neither of them had asked for anything more, which I'lian took as them having everything they needed. He expected Arthur to demand what he wanted, especially if he could cite Merlin as its recipient. But the guards outside had received no further requests. They had been told to comply if the demands were reasonable. No demands had been made. They had heard some very angry sounds from the tent, none of which were words. Any conversation between Arthur and Merlin had been low in tone, the words kept between themselves.
But throughout the afternoon there had been clattering and banging and no one on guard duty wanted to go inside and assess the cause. They were all guilty of being around the arena and although none of them were likely to be recognised they were very wary about facing Arthur.
I'lian took his son to the tent opposite, supporting him carefully. He didn't want to consider the fact that Merlin's and Arthur's care had helped him. I'lian didn't want to consider the ramifications of Galen's actions. At least taking him over to Arthur and Merlin might keep him quiet. He didn't need the rest of the men feeling restless and nervous. If he could settle and reassure Galen, then maybe it would calm the rest of them.
Arthur's head jerked up as they came in, eyes smouldering with anger. I'lian noted it faded a fraction as he saw Galen. Galen looked around at the contents of the small tent, and the mess Arthur had made. Merlin, in contrast to the burning energy Arthur was radiating, was sleeping peacefully. Or as peacefully as he could get.
He was, despite being decently covered, clearly naked. The straw bedding was packed under him and his brown jacket was spread over his upper half. His lower half was covered by Arthur's padded shirt, keeping him concealed and warm while Arthur made some attempt to wash Merlin's trousers.
The armour and clothing they were not using was placed up one corner, the food dishes set to one side by the entrance, and in the centre of all that Arthur was kneeling by a bowl of water furiously scrubbing at the material of Merlin's trousers with the soap that had been left, looking like he was making a complete hash of what he was doing.
Arthur was topless, his undershirt thrown into the rest of the pile, his body damp with sweat and dotted with soap suds. The bowl was foaming with them as Arthur scrubbed and scrubbed, the material of Merlin's trousers was lost under the bubbles that Arthur had made and his hands were red raw and even bleeding in places.
None of that stopped Arthur, he carried on scrubbing. I'lian looked at Merlin again, curled up under the makeshift covers.
"You could have requested a blanket, if your servant needed it."
"Merlin," Arthur snarled, stressing his name. "Is fine." His hand tensed on the soap and it squelched under his fingers, turning to mush. It had been damp for so long it couldn't hope to survive the pressure of Arthur's grip. I'lian watched warily, Galen watched with shock.
"What happened?" Galen asked.
"Nothing," Arthur said, but his voice sounded gentler and he glanced at Galen. "Are you all right?"
Galen nodded, and then winced, the action not being any help to his current condition. He blinked a couple of times and then looked at Merlin.
"Can I check his… wounds?" Galen asked. Arthur blinked, jaw hardening for a brief moment before relaxing, although he glared at I'lian. The prince discarded the washing, dumping Merlin's trousers into the water, along with the now mangled soap. Arthur crawled the short distance across the tent and since there was nowhere safe to shake Merlin on the shoulder Arthur settled for brushing his fingers through Merlin's hair.
"Merlin? Merlin?" Arthur said, trying to rouse his servant gently and keep his movements to a minimum. After a few seconds of stroking Merlin shifted in his sleep giving a low groan as the pain flared across his back. As Arthur carefully moved the garment protecting Merlin's upper half Galen gave a hiss of shock. Arthur looked up, the satisfaction he might have felt at Galen's shock faded as Galen pulled himself from his father's grip and he slowly went down on his knees. I'lian allowed him to, supporting Galen on the way down. Merlin gave another groan as he moved.
"Arthur, what did you wake me for?" he mumbled.
"Galen wants to take a look at you," Arthur said.
Galen was probably in no fit state to do any sort of thorough examination, but Arthur wanted him to see the damage. He didn't want to upset Galen, he was guilty of nothing, but it was the best way to get to I'lian. The way I'lian knew the best way to Arthur was through Merlin. It put them at a standoff neither of them could win. Both of them aware that the pawns they were playing with were both innocent.
"I'll bring Merlin some blankets," I'lian said, leaving the three of them alone. Arthur wondered how wise that move was, but ruefully guessed that I'lian knew neither Arthur nor Merlin would do anything to hurt the youth.
Merlin slowly raised his head, blinking as he looked up, focusing first on Arthur and then looking at Galen. His eyes widened.
"Are you all right?" Merlin demanded. "You shouldn't be moving."
"You're hurt worse than me," Galen said.
Merlin looked unconvinced, he glanced at Arthur, who gave him a steady look back, and then Merlin frowned as he spotted a smear of suds on Arthur's torso.
"What have you been doing?" Merlin asked.
"Nothing," Arthur said. Merlin peered around the tent, seeing the piles of clothes and then the bowl filled with soap and the material that used to be his trousers.
"What have you done?" Merlin exclaimed in shock. He tried to rise and reach for the bowl but he winced as the skin on his back ached, and flared with pain. He let Arthur ease him back down.
"I was washing your trousers," Arthur said.
"Very badly, honestly how can you criticise me for the way I do things when you have no idea how to do them yourself?" Merlin complained. Then he frowned again as he stared at Arthur's torso, which was now minus the bandage they had tried to get around him, and only slight traces of the ointment remained. Merlin tutted and glanced at Galen.
"Have you got some more bandages," Merlin asked. "Arthur needs his ribs wrapping up."
"I'm fine Merlin," Arthur said, his tone low with warning. Merlin's blue eyes gazed at him in shock, utter innocence in them, hardly understanding the situation. Anything that Galen found out now, would get back to I'lian, and possibly others in the camp. Arthur did not want to them knowing how badly compromised he was. Although, really, in the end, he couldn't blame Merlin for a lack of discretion, and it probably wouldn't matter anyway.
None of them were in a fit state to do anything. Arthur knew he had to look at mess, if the state of Merlin was anything to go by and the pain he was in would be obvious to any trained eye. He looked at Merlin's pale face, his dull eyes and the dark circles underneath, his hair was hanging in lank strands, and Arthur knew his own was doing the same, the ends drifting into his eyes.
Galen didn't look any better. His face was just as wan, and his eyes didn't seem entirely focused.
The three of them together proved quite a sorry sight. Arthur didn't think it was worth arguing over his injury, when Galen very carefully shuffled closer to him.
"Can you life your arm, My Lord?"
Arthur could, but it hurt to, the pain snapping through his side, especially as Galen probed around his ribs. Arthur gave a grunt of pain and gritted his teeth.
"I'm guessing he strained everything down that side, but no ribs are fractured," Merlin said. Galen nodded.
"You did this during the fight?" Galen asked. Arthur shook his head.
"No, when we were captured."
"Then how on earth did you manage to fight?" Galen asked.
Arthur's voice was flat, but angry as he answered. "I had to."
Galen stole a guilty look in Merlin's direction. Merlin gave an impassive look back. Arthur had probably made the injury worse because of it, but he wouldn't have done anything else, his goal to protect Merlin staying at the forefront of his mind. Galen looked at Arthur and nodded, taking the hint that they didn't want anyone else to know the situation. Arthur watched him and actually got the feeling that Galen would keep it to himself, the group of bandits were not exactly in his good books at the moment.
Hearing footsteps Arthur abruptly lowered his arm and Galen turned his attention to Merlin's back. The ointment had done some good but the welts were still raised and red, looking painful. Merlin lay still, not wanting to move. Every time he did something hurt.
I'lian stepped through the doorway, a thick layer of blankets over one arm. He paused as he looked at the scene, staring at his son sadly. Arthur watched him carefully, standing up to retrieve the blankets from I'lian, he didn't want the man anywhere near Merlin. Arthur glanced down and looked at the folded item on top.
"I thought Merlin might need them."
"I need some more things to treat Merlin with," Galen said, turning to his father. He kept his eyes firmly off Arthur, but Arthur knew, it was probably to help him.
"What?" I'lian asked. "I'll fetch it."
"No, I'll come and get it, I'll need to mix a few things. I won't be long."
Arthur stepped back to allow I'lian to help Galen onto his feet. He wavered a little, swallowing heavily and I'lian supported him carefully.
"Should he be moving around?" Arthur asked. I'lian glared at him.
"He wanted to come and see you," I'lian answered, holding Galen gently as he led him from the tent. Arthur said nothing, he just glared for a moment before pulling himself together and kneeling by Merlin he started to sort the blankets out.
"I'lian gave you these," Arthur said holding up the trousers. Merlin raised his eyebrows.
"Well, I think mine are a bit beyond hope," Merlin commented, glancing at the mess in the bowl. Arthur scowled, while he shook out blankets.
"I did my best," the prince commented. Merlin reached out and grabbed Arthur's wrist, looking at the red raw skin and traces of blood on his knuckles and fingers.
"I think you overdid your best," Merlin said. "I take it the tidying up is your work as well. I presume the chaos is organised."
Arthur scowled at him. "I just followed your methodology," he announced, while trying to spread out one of the blankets.
"Ha, funny. If I was that bad you would have fired me."
"And wouldn't life be so dull," Arthur drawled, eventually winning the fight with the blanket, and then he looked at Merlin.
"What?" Merlin asked.
"I need to get the blanket under you, can you move?"
Merlin grimaced, before very slowly rising up onto his knees. Arthur's shirt slid off his lower half, Merlin glared at it in irritation.
"Hurry up," Merlin said, aware of the fact that he was now uncovered. He glared at Arthur, who was now having another argument with the blanket as he tried to spread it out and then push it under Merlin. Merlin lifted his hand and dragged the blanket at the top while Arthur pushed it under his knees, trying to keep it from getting too rumpled. Merlin shoved with his lower legs and feet to get it into a reasonable position. As soon as it was he lay back down again.
"It's not straight," Arthur complained, tugging on the edges.
"It will do," Merlin snapped, closing his eyes trying to ignore the pain that moving had caused him. Arthur stopped fussing and worked on the next blanket by dropping it onto Merlin's backside and folding it out from there, until his lower half was decently covered. He kept Merlin's back bare, looking at the damage.
"Do you feel all right?"
"As well as can be expected," Merlin said, sounding tired again. Arthur settled for patting Merlin's upper arm and sat back. He looked around for something to do and settled for tucking the blanket around Merlin.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Arthur said, still tucking. Merlin looked around, at the angry attempts to tidy up. He wasn't quite sure how the piles of things in the tent looked angry, but they did. And the excessive washing signalled to him that Arthur was not doing very well. He was not someone who coped well with confinement, and frustration. There was nothing Arthur could do, he couldn't plan an escape, since Merlin was in no fit state to move, all he could do was wait, and there was nothing but Merlin to occupy his mind in the interim. Considering that Merlin wisely stayed quiet and let Arthur carry on with his fumbling fussing.
Until Galen came back. He looked steadier this time, taking the equipment off Ilian and making his own way into the tent, sitting down and sorting through what he had brought.
"This one should help better with the pain," Galen said, holding up a jar. Merlin nodded, taking the hint. If he couldn't do it now, Galen would leave enough for Arthur's treatment as well. Merlin glanced at I'lian as Arthur muscled in on what Galen was doing, because he wanted something to do.
I'lian clearly didn't realise that Merlin was watching, and that Arthur also noticed the look on I'lian's face.
It occurred to Arthur, as he saw the expression on I'lian's face what might have occurred if I'lian had not been forced to flee Camelot. Galen would have been raised in the castle and as the son of a knight would have, quite naturally, tried out for the ranks himself. He was of such an age that he could have easily been chosen as a companion for Arthur, as a child. Arthur considered that.
Looking at Galen now, assessing him with the critical eye he had, Galen was certainly not knight material. But then again, Arthur had trained many like that; he had seen it throughout his entire lifetime. It was something so expected that some of the knights hadn't considered anything else. Still, if he didn't make it as a knight, he would have been somewhere in the ranks of the court. If nothing else, his skill as a healer would have been put to use by Gaius.
I'lian had done what he had to save his son's life, but there wasn't much of it. Living in the forest, hardly able to settle anywhere, and although it was all Galen knew, it wasn't the same for I'lian. All he could see now was what his son had been deprived of. Because of Arthur. Despite the protestations Merlin had made after their altercation with Morgause there were too many coincidences for Arthur to ignore.
He could accept the vision of his mother was a manipulation. Morgause twisted the facts to what she wanted of him. So many people had tried to kill his father, and himself, over the years, her actions couldn't be disputed. And so many people had told him how much his father had loved his mother, and that the feeling had been reciprocated.
But the chain reaction beyond his birth was something he could connect with those facts. There didn't seem much doubt to Arthur that his birth had caused something, that somehow he was at the centre of so much, and not a single perspective was a true one. I'lian's and Galen's was just another one to add to his contemplation of things around him.
Despite the respect he was trying to show for his royal hostage, Arthur didn't doubt that I'lian resented him, or actually more than likely hated him.
Quite frankly, Arthur wasn't that inclined to blame him.