Arthur took the steps three at a time on his way to the entry hall, his heart in his throat and his stomach left somewhere back in his room. That couldn't be Merlin. It couldn't be.
He burst into the hall just as the knights made to turn for the stairs. Upon seeing him, the knight that held the limp body went pale as the person in his arms. Arthur didn't pay him any attention, though, because now that he got a good look at the body, there was no denying its identity.
"Merlin!" he cried, aghast, and staggered forward, reaching out to touch the boy's long-fingered hand..
"Sire, he…" the knight said uncomfortably. Arthur understood without having to be told, though, because when he withdrew his fingers, they were spotted with scarlet. His tunic was torn and bloodied, hanging onto him by scraps and threads.
"Take him to Gaius," Arthur commanded. The knight hesitated. "Now!"
The knight straightened up, inclined his head, and then rushed off to the physician's quarters. Arthur followed close behind, and the other knights dispersed uneasily. The door to the old man's office of sorts was left ajar, and Arthur heard the man swear in shock when the knight kicked it in. That exclamation turned into a gasp as he saw what the fuss was about.
"Merlin," he breathed, his owl eyes widening in horror.
"He's hurt," Arthur panted as he came through the door. "Badly. He needs your help."
"Where should I put the boy, Gaius?" asked the knight. Gaius pointed at a mostly bare table, and the knight obediently set the unconscious boy down. He left without another word, understanding his role to be over for the time being, and left Arthur alone with Gaius, who began working immediately.
"What happened?" he asked Arthur as he rummaged around for herbs.
"I don't know," said Arthur truthfully. Gaius paused.
"You mean you were not the one to find him?" he said, surprised.
"No, I wasn't." The prince didn't sound keen to admit this, and indeed he wasn't keen at all. On the contrary, he was embarassed, if not down-right ashamed, that he had not been the one that recovered Merlin.
"Well, I suppose it hardly matters now," Gaius shrugged, returning to ransacking his stores. "We just need to help Merlin now that he's back, don't we?"
"Yes," Arthur agreed, glad that Gaius asked no further questions.
"Fetch me some water then," the man instructed, setting a great many dried herbs and remedies on the table next to Merlin and beginning to grind them together with a mortar and pestle.
Obediently, Arthur bowed his head and hurried to the tap, filling the bowl that Gaius wisely left sitting next to it at all times. When it was full to the brim, Arthur took it up and hurried back, slopping a little down his front in his haste. He set it down as the physician bent over Merlin and grasped the shredded remains of his tunic with gnarled fingers. Arthur barely had time to wonder what the old man was doing when he tore the fabric away from Merlin's torso, and the prince swore emphatically, feeling bile rise up in his throat as he fought not to look away. His servant's chest was ravaged, three parallel gashes running from his left shoulder to his right hip so deep that several layers of tissue were visible. Blood oozed thickly from the horrible wounds, and the skin flapped sickeningly around the edges. The prince had never seen such a revolting injury up close.
"What can I do?" he asked of Gaius, mortified when his voice broke. The physician, however, paid no heed to this.
"Find my sutures," Gaius replied, pointing. "In that chest over there. I'll have to stitch these wounds up after I've cleaned them."
"What, you're gonna sew his skin back together?" Arthur said, appalled. Gaius fixed him with a near-frantic gaze.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do," he replied. "I need to close his wounds, Sire, or he will surely die. Now, do I need to repeat myself?"
Arthur shook his head, feeling any remaining blood leave his face so that he was most assuredly as pale as his dying servant. He stumbled over to the chest Gaius had indicated and flung it open, pawing through the contents for the man's hooked needle. Finding it was rather unpleasant, as it pricked his finger before he saw that it was stuck into a spool of thread, but nonetheless he grasped it in his hand and returned to the physician.
"Thank you, Arthur," he said, setting the needle aside for now.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Arthur asked impatiently. "Please, let me help."
"This isn't the time, Sire," said Gaius sternly. "Merlin has no room for error now."
"There must be something!" the prince exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table. He hated feeling helpless.
Gaius rounded on him. "If you are going to throw a tantrum like a spoiled child, do it in your own chambers," he reprimanded. "Or, if you still want to help me, you can fetch Gwen. She is accustomed to assisting me in these matters."
Arthur bowed his head and sprinted from the room, praying that Lady Morgana's servant was in the ward's chambers, or else there might not be time to find her. There were few servants out and about this late in the day, but the prince managed to avoid barreling into these few by a hair's breadth on his way to fetch Guinevere. He skidded to a halt outside Morgana's room, and his thunderous knocks echoed through the corridors and probably woke several nearby residents who had been settling in for sleep. he felt just the smallest bit of relief when the door opened and a dark young woman peered out peevishly.
"Arthur, what in the Devil are you-"
"It's Merlin," the prince panted. "He's hurt."
Guinevere's demeanor changed at once; she straightened her posture, and her face lost the irritated look that it so often adopted when the prince was concerned in favor of a steely determination. She turned to say something to the inside of the room that Arthur couldn't hear, and then a second woman peered out over Guinevere's head.
"Lead the way," said the taller woman.
Arthur knew that this was not the time to argue, so he didn't bother telling Morgana to stay put. He just took off again, trusting the girls to keep pace with him because he would not be slowing down until they reached Gaius' room again.
"What's happened?" said Morgana as they ran, holding her skirts so that they would not stumble her. "What's wrong with Merlin?"
"He's been injured," Arthur replied, breathing labored. "Some sort of wild animal, I guess. It's bad."
"He's still alive, though?" Guinevere checked.
"Barely," the prince corrected.
"Then we'll save him," she decided, and Arthur appreciated her faith, even though he wasn't sure he shared it.
They burst through the door in a panting mess, but Gaius didn't even flinch from cleaning Merlin's injuries with a wet cloth.
"Gwen, grind these together, will you?" he said without preamble. "I'll need them to dress his wounds.
Guinevere went to work immediately, but she tried to avoid looking at Merlin's injuries as she did so, afraid that what she saw might slow her down. Morgana was not so quick to assist. She stood stock-still in the doorway, her pale eyes fixed with horrified fascination on the still, bloody body. Both of her hands raised to cover her mouth, and her throat worked convulsively. Hesitantly, Arthur touched her shoulder.
"Morgana…" he began. She stiffened and whirled on him with incredible fury.
"This is your fault!" she cried, pointing an accusing finger at the prince. "You did this!"
"Morgana-" Arthur began in a pleading voice.
"Are you happy now?" she demanded, eyes brimming with tears. "Are you satisfied?! Merlin's dying so that you could leave your pride intact! Was it worth it? Was it worth his life, Arthur Pendragon? I know he is just a servant to you, but to Gwen and myself he is a friend, and he's dying thanks to you! His life is such an easy price for you to pay, isn't it?"
"Don't you dare-"
"You sure risk it often enough!" she continued, ignoring him. "Do you even care? Does it even matter to you that you did this to him?!"
Arthur had had enough. He was a disaster of suppressed emotions, fear and anger and guilt clawing at him from the inside, and he was walking a very fine line to keep himself under control. He was on the verge of a complete break down, and Morgana just didn't seem to appreciate what he might be going through himself.
"You think I wanted this?!" he roared. "Do you think I wanted any of this?! All the times he's risked his life for me-I never asked him to! He's lying there dying and there's not a damned thing I can do to help and it's driving me absolutely mad. You have no right to speak about Merlin like that-like he doesn't matter to me!"
Morgana was not so easily cowed.
"If he's so important to you, why did you leave him?" she demanded hotly. "You left him out there and sent your knights after him instead of going yourself! If you cared at all, you would have gone! So why did you do nothing?!"
Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Gaius.
"Take your quarrel outside or shut your mouths!" he snapped. "Merlin is in grave danger and you two are squabbling like children."
Arthur and Morgana fell silent, shame washing over both of them as they realized how foolish they were behaving.
"That's better," Gaius congratulated. "Arthur, if you could fetch me some fresh water?"
"Yes, Gaius," he said meekly, receiving the bowl of reddened water and taking it out to the tap.
When he returned, Gwen had finished the salve that Gaius had assigned her and was carefully applying it to Merlin's injuries, Morgana was dabbing at Merlin's forehead with a damp cloth, and Gaius was waiting for the water. Arthur handed the bowl to the physician, who in turn poured a small measure into a second bowl, one that already had a dry mixture in it. He set the water aside and began to mix the powder into a thin tincture while Arthur watched, useless and frustrated that he was so.
Gaius finished his medicine and carefully applied it to Merlin's wounds over Gwen's earlier treatment. His fingers came back red, and though Arthur was more than accustomed to blood, he found that the sight of his servant's made him feel incredibly ill. When the medicine had all been applied, the old man set aside the bowl and took up the silk thread that Arthur had retrieved earlier and threaded it through the needle, biting it off with his teeth and tying the ends together.
"Morgana, hold the edges together," Gaius instructed. Morgana leaned over, a queasy expression crossing her face as she did what he asked. Arthur had to look away, but he could hear the sound of the thread sliding through Merlin's mangled chest, and it made him want to vomit all the more. He was sure that his face was a most unattractive shade of green, but he could not find it in himself to care.
It felt like hours had passed, though it had taken maybe fifteen minutes, when Gaius finished stitching up the final gash in the boy's thin, pale chest. The physician slumped back in his chair, and Morgana and Gwen both let out heavy sighs, releasing tension in their shoulders they hadn't realized had been there. Arthur swallowed convulsively.
"Arthur," said Gwen quietly, causing him to look reluctantly around. "Help me bandage him, will you?"
He nodded and moved to her side, feeling as though his body was made of lead while he carefully lifted Merlin's torso off the table so that Gwen could reach underneath him with the bandages. Arthur had never realized how thin Merlin was, how small despite his height, but the prince could hold him up without any effort on his part. This made him nervous, because any amount of blood loss would be incredibly unforgiving to a boy his size. Gwen seemed able to read his mind.
"He's so small, isn't he?" she said as she tied off the cloth at his left shoulder.
Arthur didn't answer, instead looking down at Merlin's ashen face with guilt rending at his chest. His fingers tightened on the boy's bony shoulder as he bowed his head, wishing suddenly that he was alone so that nobody else could see his weakness. A hand touched his shoulder, but he shook it off, not wanting anyone's pity.
"Arthur, lay him back down," said Gaius. "Morgana, hold his mouth open."
Obediently, Arthur gently laid his servant back on the table and stepped back. Gaius approached with the tonic, and Morgana plugged the boy's nose and held his jaw open so that the physician could administer the medicine. The liquid trickled into Merlin's mouth, and Gaius stroked his throat to induce swallowing. When the tincture had been finished, everyone stepped away.
Merlin didn't look any different, but then there was no way to produce an immediate effect. He was pale as death, his hair sticking to his sweating forehead. Red was already spotting the white bandages.
"That's all we can do, I'm afraid," said Gaius softly. "You all should get some rest."