Ch. 4
Merlin was a bit filthy. Possibly too filthy for a visit with Gaius. Not that Gaius would have minded, but then maybe he would mind, being a physician who despised filth in his chambers if he could help it. Filth led to illness, he always said, and he wouldn't be happy with Merlin's state – all dirt-stained and tear-stained as he was.
Merlin hadn't meant to cry, but after seeing that giant and what he had done to that man, knowing that Arthur would eventually be one of the challengers and that Merlin would be there to protect him but unable to use his magic…
No, Merlin wasn't supposed to think about that. He was supposed to clean himself and visit with Gaius and ask what he should do, because Merlin had no idea and like hell he was going to summon Kilgarrah and put up with any of his damn riddles that were about as helpful as a rock to the head. Besides, the only clear place to land was currently being occupied by a very skittish army.
Merlin had already washed his face in the stream, and now removed his shirt in order to get to the rest of himself. He needed to remember to wear his shoes. He'd become prone to forgetting about his shoes. There was just something about the feel of the earth, rocks, twigs and water beneath his feet – the coolness, the grittiness, sometimes even the pain that reminded him of where he was and, most importantly, where he wasn't. Because there were times when his brain would start to wonder if this was all a dream, then the panic would creep in. But all Merlin had to do was step outside onto the soil or rocks, or prick his foot on a stick and the panic would recede quicker than it had come.
Merlin splashed water on then under his arms, scrubbing them, the cold making him shiver.
The reverberating crack of a breaking stick snapped Merlin's attention and awareness to the surrounding woods. He stilled his movements and slowed his breathing while listening to the familiar sounds of the forest.
His location was no secret. The children of Ealdor would often stumble across Merlin's camp, or attempt to slip in unaware to make off with something as a test of courage. And, sometimes, Merlin would let them, to show that there was nothing to fear. Other times, however, they would come when he was still at the shack, and they would see him and run from the wild man in the woods. His mother had told him the stories the children liked to spin, about how Merlin was a fae that would spirit you away to fairy land, or the one about him being a werewolf that would peel the skin from your body. Stories only the children believed but not the adults, who had always thought of Merlin as odd, and his current choice of living little more than proof that he'd always been touched in the head. The latter Merlin had figured out for himself, and Hunith's silence had only confirmed it.
But there were more than just children venturing into these forests.
The armies had only been here for three days, now, and those who did come into the woods were mostly looking for game to hunt, paying neither Merlin nor his abode any mind save to ask him about any deer or rabbits. He was just a boy in the woods, after all, nothing harmful or worth anyone's time.
Merlin heard the echo of laughter, but it was fading away, going the other direction. Merlin went back to his washing.
"Well, well, look at this."
Merlin leaped to his feet and whirled around.
Three men in the livery of Essetir stepped from the woods, crossbows in hand and padded boots to muffle their footsteps. They were smiling in a way Merlin didn't like, jostling and nudging each other as if they had just accomplished something important.
"We come out to bag a bit of meat and we get the wild kid those brats in the village are always going on about," said the tall, skinny one.
"Ga, look at him," said the youngest, perhaps no older than Merlin. "Think someone in the village taught him how to wear pants?"
The stocky one snorted. "I bet the women teach him all kinds of things for a few favors, if you know what I mean. Bet they give him a biscuit afterwards for his services."
"You think he ate the chap who owned this here shack?" said the youngest.
Merlin's heart hammered, fear dancing with anger in a maelstrom that made his hands shake and his blood boil.
"What the hell do you want?" Merlin snapped through gritted teeth.
The skinny one blinked in mild surprise, then smiled. "Oh, will you look at that. All civilized with your speech. Bet that cost a fun night for whoever taught you."
The stocky one spat on the ground. "We really going to let some half-naked animal give us lip?"
"Naw," said the skinny one. They had spread out, surrounding Merlin, closing in on him. Then, suddenly, he was on the ground, his feet knocked out from under him and the impact shoving the breath from his lungs. He barely had time to register what had happened when a kick to the ribs rolled him onto his other side.
"You know," said skinny. "Seeing as how he's a bit of an animal I suppose there'd be no trouble in skinning him, yeah?"
The other two chuckled.
Merlin heard the hiss of a knife being pulled from a sheath. He groped on the ground looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. His hand found the stream and one of its many smooth, round rocks. He gripped it, while boots crunched closer.
Merlin flipped onto his other side at the same time his hand came up, throwing the rock at skinny and pegging him in the head. Skinny stumbled back with a cry onto his backside. Merlin scrabbled to his feet and ran.
"Come back here you little bastard!" Skinny called.
Merlin pounded over the ground, his conditioned feet able to ignore the pricking twigs and scraping rocks. He ran until he came to a tree he could climb, and scaled it with practiced ease. He climbed as high as he dared until the branches creaked. Looking down, he was able to see patches of the forest, and saw the three men run past.
Merlin sighed in relief. He waited a few minutes, hopefully putting as much distance between himself and those men as possible. Then he began to climb down with the intent of racing back to Ealdor.
"I see him! There, in the tree!"
Merlin froze, then he climbed back to where he had been. He saw the three men surrounding the tree, laughing.
"Ga, just like a cornered bear," said the stocky one.
"He's too scrawny to be a bear," said the youngest one. "He's more like a little kitty. Don't you want to come down, little kitty? We've got a bit of string for you."
The men laughed. The stocky one picked up a pinecone and chucked it at Merlin. "You like a taste of your own medicine, kitty?" he said.
The others picked up pinecones and rocks, throwing them at Merlin with everything they had. Most of them missed, but a few of the smaller stones made it through, pegging Merlin on the feet and legs, sometimes his shoulders, arms, hands and back.
If Merlin could just use his magic, he could deflect the barrage. If he could use his magic, he would make the bastards pay.
Merlin tried while ducking the onslaught and flinching in pain with each hit. But the words refused to come, stuck in his throat where past attempts had made them clog.
"Aw, this is boring," said skinny. "Ansel, go up there and drag him down. We need to show him what happens when you mess with a knight."
"My pleasure, Lesk," the younger one said. He smile a wicked smile as he began to scale the branches.
"No, leave me alone!" Merlin shouted.
The men just laughed louder.
"What do you lads have up there that's such a riot," said a new voice, a familiar voice, one that made Merlin's heart beat fast with hope and relief.
"Gwaine?" Merlin called desperately.
"You shut it, animal!" Lesk spat. "This doesn't concern you lot so bugger off."
"Merlin?" Gwaine called back, ignoring Lesk. Then Merlin saw him peering up through the branches, his eyes wide and smile large.
"I think this concerns us quite a bit," said the brilliant voice of Lancelot. "You see, that supposed animal you have cornered is a dear friend of ours."
"Am I supposed to give a damn?" said Lesk. "He assaulted us. He needs to be punished. We're bloody knights, he can't treat us like that."
Gwaine whirled around. "Knights? Really? Funny, I thought you were a bunch of little boys tormenting one of the local peasants. Not very knightly, wouldn't you say, Perc?"
"Not very knightly at all," said Percival, and Merlin could easily picture him folding his massive arms and flexing his great muscles.
"Oh, is that how it's going to be, then?" Lesk said. "Ansel, get down here. There's lessons to be taught."
"Um," Ansel stuttered, looking between Lesk and the knights of Camelot. "Are we sure about this?"
"Dead sure," Lesk said.
Ansel hopped from the tree.
Merlin didn't see all of what happened next, but he heard enough to get the basic idea of three knights of Camelot humiliating three knights of Essetir. He did see Gwaine step sideways as the stocky fellow charged him, and trip the fellow as he stumbled past. He heard the familiar clank of a sword hilt striking a helmed head, Lesk cry out with an indignant "ow!" and then, finally, a "Let's get out of here!" Followed immediately by the pounding of booted feet fading away.
"All clear, Merlin," Gwaine called.
Merlin moved as quickly as he could down the tree, hampered by all the tiny bruises forming on his feet and legs. It was just as he was about to hop from the last branch that a pair of hands lifted him off and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug.
"Percival, mate, he can't breathe," Gwaine said.
"Oh! Sorry," Percival said, and swiftly released Merlin. Merlin gasped in a breath, stumbling back, but looked at his three friends and smiled in a way he hadn't smiled in ages.
"Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival. By the gods am I happy to see you."
"I bet," said Gwaine, pulling him into a more sensible hug. "Considering you were cornered in a tree. I knew I shouldn't have left."
"Trouble does seem to favor you, my friend," Lancelot said, and when Gwaine released Merlin, Lancelot enveloped him.
"So does luck," Merlin said laughingly. "You have no idea how grateful I am you showed up."
"Thank Arthur's need to get a better lay of the land," said Gwaine. "And those three for having a laugh like a donkey's bray. That kind of laughter never bodes well in my experience."
Lancelot cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "We… might also have been seeking you out. In a sense. More like hoping to run into you, really."
Merlin became puzzled. "Why hope to run into me? I wouldn't have minded you finding me."
Now it was Percival's turn to shift uncomfortably. "Well… you see…"
Gwaine rolled his eyes. "Oh for the love of… Arthur made it an order of sorts that we were not to bother you."
"What? Why?" Merlin said, his heart sinking into his stomach.
Gwaine shrugged. "I guess he thought you wouldn't take it well, what with half of Camelot showing up and all." He studied Merlin critically. "So… how are you taking things?"
Merlin remembered his half-dressed state, and both blushed and scowled at what had to be Gwaine misinterpreting the situation.
"Well enough," Merlin said tersely. "I was just bathing when they snuck up on me, that's all."
Gwaine nodded, although not quite mollified.
"Speaking of which, I'd like to dress, now," Merlin said, and walked as fast as he could back to the shack. He was well aware of how he looked – less dirt smudged but his face still stubbled, and his body bony in the way that always made everyone worry about his eating habits.
He hadn't gone far from the shack, and ducked inside where he grabbed a fresh shirt from where it hung drying on a line of string tied to two nails. He slipped it on and instantly felt less vulnerable. He also remembered to put on his socks and shoes, though doing so made him feel oddly confined.
Merlin stepped outside the shack to the three knights standing awkwardly near the water.
"Er… is this where you live?" Lancelot asked.
"It's… where I like to go," Merlin said honestly. "When I need some space."
Lancelot nodded, but the three knights looked only a modicum less tense. They were worried, Merlin got that, and he wished he could tell them that there was nothing to worry about except for the small, obnoxious matter of there being quite a bit to worry about – such as how he was supposed to help Arthur without magic. But, then, that's why he was going to visit Gaius.
And, since Merlin was being honest with himself, he wouldn't mind making the short journey in the company of three knights. Not because it would do anything, but because his brain was strange when it came to matters of peace of mind. And if it made entering Ealdor that much easier, then so be it, he'd let his mind have what it wanted, even if it was a bit embarrassing to need three seasoned warriors by his side just to walk into his home village.
"Merlin?" Gwaine said with concern, and Merlin realized he had stopped adjusting his shirt and was now sagging in dejection.
"Sorry, just thinking too much," Merlin said.
Gwaine smiled, much to Merlin's relief. "I always say thinking's a dangerous pastime. So what's your schedule for today? Or are we intruding on a moment of solitude."
"I was going to see Gaius, actually," Merlin said. He added, pretending it was an afterthought and not a carefully contemplated decision, "You can come along if you'd like." He smiled back. "Make sure I'm not cornered in any more trees."
"Gladly," said Gwaine happily.
~oOo~
It was strange the difference made when entering Ealdor in the company of two knights. It didn't make the sudden attention directed their way any less uncomfortable, but it made walking through the town without giving into the urge to hide in the shadows possible. Most of the attention was on the knights, however, because it was next to impossible to ignore the bright red capes and shining chain mail of two royal knights.
But it wasn't long before the whispers began, and they were hard for Merlin not to hear.
"Do you think he did something wrong?"
"Probably. That boy was always strange. Then he goes off to Camelot only to come back mad as a hare."
"I told you! I told you he was a fugitive and now they caught him."
"We should have run him out. Now we'll get the blame for hiding him."
And on and on. No one remembered Gwaine, it seemed, even after he'd spent a week in Ealdor making sure Merlin was settled and going to be all right. All they saw was the capes, the chain mail, the swords, and Merlin walking between them like an unchained prisoner being escorted.
But Gwaine and Lancelot heard the whispers as well, and Gwaine threw an arm around Merlin's shoulders in brotherly comradery.
"I see the hospitality hasn't changed much, eh, Merlin?" he said loudly enough for those nearby to hear. The whispers stopped, and those speaking too loud looked away, their faces touched red with embarrassment.
Merlin smiled gratefully. He'd been painfully aware from the moment he'd arrived of what most in the village thought of him, and that the only reason he hadn't been run out was out of respect to Hunith and those who chose not to forget what Merlin had done for Ealdor. But it was still a precarious situation, all the more so with knowledge of a giant not far from their doorsteps. And skittish villagers had a bad habit of running out anything they deemed to be a threat, even skinny peasant boys who had grown up alongside them.
Gwaine and Lancelot maintained their escort all the way to Hunith's hut, but left Merlin to enter on his own after Merlin had thanked them sincerely. He had barely stepped through the door when he was greeted with a surprised and joyful, "Merlin!" and enveloped in old arms and the dry yet gentle scent of herbs.
"Oh, my boy, it is good to see you," Gaius said.
Merlin, smiling to make his face hurt, wrapped his arms around Gaius and buried his face in his shoulder.
"It's good to see you too, Gaius," Merlin said. It had only been a month since they'd parted, but a month that had felt like an eternity. Merlin looked up to see Hunith standing by their little table now piled with books, beaming with joy.
Gaius released Merlin, then held him at arm's length as he looked him over, and the joy wavered on the cusp of disappointment and worry.
"Are you eating well?" Gaius asked with some trepidation.
"Well enough," Merlin said, and to evade further interrogation added, "Mum told me you might be needing help with some research?"
It was to Merlin's great relief that Gaius allowed the change in subject, and Gaius' smile returned, if a bit weaker than before. "Indeed I do. Not that my research into giants as been fruitful thus far, but a young pair of eyes could make a difference."
Gaius led him to the table where the books were scattered, and handed him a rather heavy tome with various sections bookmarked using ribbon. Hunith left them to their studies, needing to tend to the chickens and then see about some wool that was owed her for helping one of the women deliver her baby.
The hut was quiet save for the whisper of turning pages and the muffled sounds of village life. But while Merlin looked at the words on the book, his brain kept dwelling on too many matters to comprehend what the words were saying. After another minute of trying to focus, Merlin gave up and closed the book.
"Gaius," Merlin said.
"Hm?" Gaius replied, distracted.
"Arthur is going to face the giant as a challenger," he stated.
Gaius looked up, sunlight flashing off the lenses of his spectacles. He, too, closed the book he'd been reading.
"Yes," Gaius said. "If it comes to that."
Merlin nodded, chewing his bottom lip. "Which means he's going to need help. My help."
Gaius arched an eyebrow in a show of mild surprise. "Are you?"
"Gaius," Merlin said with a small, weak smile. "This is me we're talking about. You know I won't be able to sit by while Arthur goes out to face something of powerful magic."
"Even after what Arthur put you through?" Gaius asked, not in surprise but genuine curiosity.
Merlin could only shrug, but he didn't really need to answer. He could see the understanding on Gaius' face, because Merlin was still Merlin despite everything that had happened. He didn't know where he stood with Arthur, whether he hated him, feared him, or was indifferent to him. But what he did know was that he couldn't stand by and let Arthur face that giant alone.
"Except…" Merlin said. His eyes stung, and he quickly wiped them with one hand. "Gaius, I haven't… I haven't been able to use my magic."
This time Gaius' eyebrow arched even higher. "The last time we spoke," he said, "You had said you never wanted to use your magic again."
Merlin gave a humorless chuckle. "I think I made due on that promise. I've tried to use it, just to see if I could. You know, to see if, maybe, I'd changed my mind." Merlin bit his lip, shook his head, and then looked at Gaius imploringly. "But I can't get it to work. Even today, when some of Lot's men were harassing me, I couldn't call on it."
At Gaius' widening eyes Merlin quickly added, "Oh, no, it wasn't too bad. Gwaine and Lancelot found me and chased them off. But even when I was scared, I couldn't get my magic to come."
The skin of Gaius' forehead wrinkled deeply as he processed what Merlin told him. He then stood and pulled his chair closer to where Merlin sat on the other side of the table.
"May I?" Gaius said, holding out his hands as he sat back down. "I want to make sure there might not be some physical ailment behind your situation. It's always good idea to rule out what you can."
Merlin nodded enthusiastically, hoping (even knowing it wouldn't be so) that perhaps the issue was a matter of the body and nothing more. Gaius checked both of Merlin's eyes, then had him open his mouth to check his tongue, teeth and what he could see of the back of his throat. He then tilted Merlin's head up by his chin and felt his throat. After that, he had Merlin stand and remove his shirt, frowning at the small bruises from the rocks Merlin had been assaulted with. Gaius first placed his hand on Merlin's chest, then his ear, listening to his heart, after which he moved behind Merlin to listen to his back and breathing. He asked Merlin about his eating and drinking habits, if he'd had any problems with his digestion, if he'd been feeling nauseas, sick, dizzy or suffering from headaches.
"Sometimes," Merlin said hesitantly while twisting his shirt in his hands. "Usually… usually after a bad dream, or if I haven't been sleeping well."
"You haven't been sleeping well?" Gaius asked.
"Just… bad dreams, like I said."
"Have you tried making a mild sleeping draught? You know how," Gaius said.
Merlin gave him an apologetic expression. He did indeed know how, and while most of the time the draughts helped, there were also times they trapped him in his nightmares, and the latter made him afraid to try anything stronger than a relaxing tincture.
Gaius, however, seemed to register this sad tale from Merlin's visage alone. He patted Merlin's shoulder in understanding, then allowed him to shrug into his shirt when the gooseflesh on his skin made it obvious he was getting chilled.
They both sat back down.
"Well, apart from you looking abysmally thin," Gaius said with a pointed look. "Which, really, I know there's no reason for when Hunith told me of Ealdor's good harvest this season, you seem the picture of health. Well, as healthy as one can be when not able to have a substantial night's rest."
"So, it is me, then," Merlin said dejectedly. "I have made it so that I'll never use my magic again."
Gaius chuckled softly. "Oh, I don't believes it's a matter of having cursed yourself or any such thing if that's what you think." His expression softened, turning forlorn. "What you went through, Merlin, not even the strongest man would be able to walk away from unscathed. Such traumas can often leave us afraid of those circumstances and all involved that led to that trauma. And when afraid, the brain will do what it thinks is best to protect itself, sometimes without us realizing that it's happening."
"Then how do I make my mind stop trying to protect me?" Merlin asked, leaning forward eagerly, desperately.
Gaius' look of sympathy and remorse was answer enough. But he said all the same, "I'm not sure. But… it is possible to break through these fears. However, and I am sorry to say this – I wish I had a better answer – but it is an answer only you can find for yourself."
Merlin's heart sank to his feet at this. He'd been trying for a bloody month to use his magic again, and if a month's worth of attempts amounted to nothing, then how long would it take? He didn't have another month, let alone days should Arthur meet with the giant sooner rather than later.
Merlin wasn't given any more time to lament on the matter when a knock on the door ended the conversation. He opened it to find a contrite Gwaine and Lancelot, along with a grim Leon and Elyan, standing outside the door.
Gwaine cleared his throat uneasily. "Er… Merlin, mate. It seems we got ourselves into a bit of a pickle with those lads giving you grief. We need your help." He glanced at the other three knights uneasily, who shared his expression. Gwaine took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and met Merlin's gaze.
"And that means Arthur needs to speak with you."
TBC...