A/N:

This next little one –shot is for Mika271170 who has requested an angsty piece set sometime in Series one or two.

Instead of doing a 'What if' of an episode, I decided to create an original plot for this one. Let me know if you like!

Winter time in Camelot – Arthur and Merlin are out hunting in the snow and fall through the roof of a cave. This is when Arthur finds out the Merlin is severely claustrophobic.

CHARACTERS: Merlin & Arthur (because who can't get enough of bromance)

RATED: T (because I'm paranoid)

Featuring generous amounts of Angst (yay) some whump (whoo hoo!) Scared! Merlin & Arthur comfort!

THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN

Small Spaces – part one

Merlin shivered as the wind tousled his cloak, its icy fingers raising the hair on his arms. As ever, the manservant followed his master wherever he went; even if the daft clot-pole had decided to go for a little jaunt in the woods to kill some innocent beast or another. This was not unusual in the least – apart from the fact that it was snowing.

Well, it had only been snowing at the time, when Merlin pointed out this fact to Arthur, who studiously ignored his warnings. Now…now, they were walking, shoulders hunched and heads down – through a blizzard.

The dark haired youth had a sudden inclination to cuff the young Prince around the back of his stupid blonde head, but thought better of it. The man was carrying a sword after all.

He just settled with demeaning insults.

'I told you this was a bad idea, dollop head,' Merlin cried, his voice snatched away by the roar of the storm.

Whether Arthur heard him, or he was being ignored again, the boy couldn't tell – but they struggled on, legs sinking knee deep in the white powder.

The warlock wrapped his arms tighter around himself, trying to stave away the chill that was biting through his insufficient layers. He might as well have been naked, for all the warmth his clothes provided.

There was a sharp tug on the rope around the boy's waist – at least Arthur had the sense to lash them together before the storm got too bad, so they wouldn't lose each other in the wild flurry.

He stumbled forward, trying to dislodge his boot from the snow as the tug came again.

'Hold on, prat!' Merlin cried, as he face planted into the cold powder.

Fabulous...just bloody GREAT, Merlin though vehemently. Now all his clothes were wet – not just his breeches from the knee down.

'What are you doing, idiot?' Arthur asked scathingly, towering above him his fists resting impatiently upon his hips.

'Oh, you know – just resting,' Merlin snapped back, taking the gloved hand that was offered to help him to his feet.

'Well, the breaks over Merlin – if we don't get back to Camelot soon, we will die in this!' Arthur yelled to be heard over the howling wind.

The young man rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Well I did warn you, sire.' He muttered tetchily as the Prince dragged him to his feet.

Arthur looked over his manservant impatiently. 'You should have worn something warmer, idiot,' he pointed out, dragging his arm beneath his red nose.

'This is all I have, prat,' Merlin snapped, his patience wearing thin. He was cold, hungry and so very, very tired. He just wanted to get back to Camelot and defrost in front of a lovely fire, and maybe run up and down the empty corridors to get his blood flowing so he could feel his toes again.

By his calculations, dusk would fall soon – but much to his chagrin, it didn't look as though they would make it back to the castle tonight. Arthur's eyes said as much.

'Please don't tell me, you've gone and gotten us lost. Haven't you?' Merlin accused, jumping up and down on the spot. By now, the snow was so deep; they were practically surrounded by waist-high walls of the accursed stuff.

'Shut up Merlin. It's hard to gather my bearings in this weather. I'm just a little turned around,' the young man admitted.

Merlin scowled at him. 'Next time, would you bloody listen to me? You are such a stubborn arse!' he sputtered, turning to walk away.

'Where are you going Merlin? Camelot is this way!' Arthur insisted.

Merlin threw his hands up in frustration. 'You wouldn't have a clue where Camelot is right now! I can't even tell up from down at the moment, I'm so damn cold! I noticed a cave a while back – we should probably head for it. We may stand a chance then!' He cried to make himself heard.

He could barely see a foot in front of him, and Arthur was getting lost in the mist.

The frozen boy let out a shuddering breath, his teeth chattering together as he awaited his decision.

'I'm pretty sure we can make it back!' Came Arthur's hesitant reply.

'Oh, great – yeah...I'm pretty sure that is a bloody stupid idea!'

Gods, he was getting uncharacteristically furious. This man was going to be the death of him! Two sides of the same coin were going to freeze to death before Merlin could say destiny.

'Alright, alright! God's Merlin, you are such a girl's petticoat!' Arthur snapped, relenting.

'Yeah well, at least I'm not a horse's ar-'

Arthur stopped him with a raised hand. 'Be quiet,' he murmured softly.

'Don't tell me what to do, you supercilious royal prat! If you had just listened –'

'I SAID SHUT UP MERLIN! I'm listening now...I can hear –'

The ground lurched suddenly beneath them, the sound of rumbling now so obvious to Merlin. Just when he thought his day couldn't get worse!

'Run!' Arthur cried, slogging through the slush.

It was easier said than done – It was like trying to run through treacle, but they had to at least try.

The earth below shifted again, and over the howling wind, they could hear rock shear against rock.

There was no hope. They couldn't run fast enough, they were tied together by a strong, thick rope and it was too bloody cold.

As their eyes met, flashing fear and panic, the ground beneath them gave way, and down they fell – swallowed by darkness...

*~*M*~*

Arthur blinked slowly, as he came to his senses. Darkness pressed into him like a blanket, and the silence was suffocating. He tried to stand, but pain and dizziness over took his senses and he came crashing to his knees.

'Merlin?' he called, his voice hoarse from the cold. 'Where are you, you lazy git,'

Harsh breaths from somewhere close by were his only response.

A small pit of worry wormed into the Prince's gut,

Arthur, himself – was a shuddering mess from the low temperature, and he donned a fur lined cloak! He could only begin to imagine Merlin's plight...if only he could see!

That was when he felt the harsh rope sitting at his hip. Recalling his earlier brilliance, he followed the length of the rope – shuffling along on his knees. The sharp rocks tore at his trousers, but he ignored the stinging as they sliced skin and continued on, only stopping when his hand came into contact with a boot.

Gripping the boy's ankle, he shook gently.

'Merlin, come on,' Arthur called gently, his strength waning.

If could see anything, his vision be swimming, but because of the inability to make anything out, his only reassurance that Merlin was alive were the horrifying breaths that wheezed through Merlin's lips.

Close to losing consciousness, Arthur shuffled closer to his icy friend and curling into is body, through the warm cloak over the both of them.

Utterly spent, Arthur let his eyes slide shut and he was out.

When the Prince next awoke, he realised he could once again see.

A shaft of weak sunlight had squeezed its way through the low cavern, illuminating its dark corners.

Arthur looked around slowly, an icy finger of dread crawling up his spine as their horrifying situation dawned on them.

They had been so blessedly fortunate, not to get crushed and killed by the gargantuan boulders that balanced precariously upon one another – the roof of the cave, (although one could probably argue that it more resembled a crevasse, than anything else) was so low, that neither men would be able to stand and walk on out.

But Arthur was not willing to give up yet. He nudged his manservant gently to rouse him, but when he didn't response, the Prince felt is panic rise.

Sitting up slightly, Arthur pulled the cloak off the boy, terrified that he had died overnight from the cold...but upon hearing those haggard breaths that his fear melted away.

Rolling Merlin to face him, he was greeted by a dirty, tear-streaked face and wide blue eyes that held so much terror and panic that Arthur just wanted to hold him and make his fear go away. A large gash marred his forehead and dried blood matted his hair, but the Prince couldn't tell if he had any internal problems.

'Merlin, mate – are you hurt? Other than your head, I mean,' Arthur asked, scrutinizing the boy thoroughly.

The dark haired youth cast his eyes downwards, towards his stomach, and then looked back at his friend.

Merlin's tunic was ripped, and stained red, where a sharp rock (at Arthur's guess) had torn the skin. The prince checked it quickly, to make sure it wasn't life threatening, before rocking back on his heels and peering at his servant with a worried gaze.

'What's wrong with you, Merlin? I usually can't shut you up – even when you are hurt,' Arthur asked, fiddling with a stone that he had found nearby.

'I-I...Arthur, I'm scared!' Merlin began, his voice hitching as sobs wracked his body. The Prince gave him a bewildering look – sure he had seen the boy upset a few times, but this was different.

He was having a full blown anxiety attack! His lips were parted slightly, as he tried to take in huge gulps of air – but it wasn't working.

The Prince of Camelot grabbed his overly loyal and goofy servant by the shoulders and slapped him hard across the face.

'Calm down! You will make yourself sick!' he said, exasperated and now slightly guilty at the look of primal fear and the boy's cerulean eyes.

's-sorry, Arthur,' he mumbled, looking away sheepishly.

'You have nothing to apologise for, idiot...I just want to know something – we have been in worse situations than this. Dragons and sorcerers and sieges and long dead soldiers with minds of their own! We fell down a hole, and yes, admittedly, there doesn't seem to be anyway to escape without bringing the whole lot down, but I have never, ever seen you react like that to any of the other seemly desperate situations we seem to have a knack for getting into,' Arthur ranted without taking a breath.

Merlin sighed, and looked at his master and hopefully, friend.

'I...' he began, swallowing dryly.

'C'mon Merlin, I won't laugh, I promise,' the Prince assured.

'I really, really can't stand small spaces.'

I will leave it there for now! I have decided to make this a two parter – just cuz I can! That, and it is so unbelievable, unbearably hot right now, that I can't think of anything further at the moment, but I still wanted to get a chapter to you tonight. For all my readers from 'down under' (if any) you will know my pain. For those of you who are sitting around a fire because it is so utterly cold – a real scorcher here today, with temps between 43 – 46 degrees Celsius. (for those of you who aren't great with conversions, that's 110.48 F – 114.8 F) no lie! Pinky swear on Merlin!

Thanks for the support, and I hope you guys like it so far! Especially you, Mika, as this was your prompt!