A/N:
This one is for Nactel, who has requested Merlin with a badly broken leg...hope you all enjoy what has become a Merlin whump-a-thon! Loves it!
CHARACTERS: Merlin & Arthur
RATED: back to T
GENRE: Hurt/Comfort
What If...Merlin broke his leg?
THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN
Fractured
Merlin's raven bangs stuck to his brow as rain cascaded through the forest canopy. His face hurt from the constant scowl that he fixed upon the back of Arthur's head and the only pair of socks he had brought on this little excursion were so wet that he was beginning to lose the feeling in his toes.
The Prince stopped suddenly, holding up his hand to indicate Merlin should do the same – but the young servant hadn't seen the gesture through the deluge and collided heavily with his master.
'Merlin,' Arthur growled in exasperation, turning to fix the youth with a cold glare.
'What?' he snapped back irritably, his weariness causing to him to lose grip on his already tenuous patience with the prat. 'I'm cold, I'm tired and you're still poking around in the bloody forest with a sharpened stick looking for a meal that probably fled when the rain set in. What happened to overnight, Arthur?'
The young Prince ignored Merlin's outburst and continued forward stealthily, gripping his crossbow and loading it with an arrow. The bushes along the game trail rustled and Arthur took aim.
The lethal projectile whistled through the rain and Arthur grinned at the sound of an animal squeal – indicating his aim was still impeccable, even in the bad weather.
Merlin rolled his eyes and dragged his wet sleeve across the drips on his nose. 'Great. You've killed something. Can we head back now?'
Arthur reached into the shrub and pulled out a scrawny and very wet rabbit. Slightly disappointed at the meagre kill, he shrugged, removed the arrow and tossed the dead animal to Merlin, who caught it with deft fingers.
'Put that in your pack, will you Merlin,' Arthur ordered, wiping the blood from the steel tip.
The young warlock huffed and stomped after Arthur as he continued forth, following the high banks of the river. For several hours, they had been trying to find a safe place to cross, but the heavy rain had transformed the usually calm flowing stream into raging torrents.
'Why can't you put it in your pack?' Merlin sniffed, mildly astonished that the complaint sounded so petulant.
The Prince sighed heavily. 'Because, Merlin – you are a servant. And I am a Prince. I can't have that thing bleeding in my royal satchel, now can I?' he asked with a somewhat smug look upon his face. Merlin had a sudden urge to slap that stupid look off his face.
'Prat,' he muttered under his breath.
The pair continued on for several more hours, and the rain still had not abated. Merlin's worn travelling boots were caked in mud and he had started to shiver intermittently about half an hour before.
Arthur stopped again, peering over the muddy embankment and into the rushing water below. The steep incline to the water's edge was slowly disappearing under the swollen river, but the path down was still a perilous mixture of slick mud and jagged rocks.
'Wasn't there a bridge somewhere?' Merlin asked grumpily, eyeing the Prince dubiously. He had a feeling the idiot was going the throw caution to the wind and decide to cross right here.
'Washed away by the river,' he replied, testing the stability of the ledge. 'Before you ask – there are no others. We have to cross before the whole lot floods. We'll be stuck otherwise.'
He knew it.
'Fine, let's get it over with then. Move and I'll go first,'
Merlin nudged the Prince out of the way, ignoring his protests as he put his weight upon the seemingly stable ground.
Only, it wasn't so stable, and in just moments the muddy bank crumbled, leaving Merlin standing on nothing. Under normal circumstances, he would have landed harmlessly further down the bank, but the combination of slippery mud and wet boots sent the youth into a tumble.
'Merlin!' He heard the Prince cry in fear as he rolled down the steep incline. He thrust his leg out as he fell and it caught between two jagged rocks, jerking him to a stop as a sharp crack resounded in the deep gully.
White hot pain shot up the limb, causing his vision to blacken around the edges. His throat felt raw and it took him several seconds to realise he was screaming.
*~*M*~*
Arthur had tried to stop him, tried to tell him that the ground wasn't stable enough to take even his weight – but the damn fool didn't listen.
The young Prince watched in horror as his friend rolled down the bank towards the raging waters below, then almost sighed in relief when the boy's wayward tumble came to a halt just shy of the edge.
Then he heard the scream.
Such a hoarse, animal sound – laced with pure agony, and Arthur couldn't stand it.
'Merlin!' He cried again, dropping to his stomach as the scream died down to a whimper that was broken by harsh sobs. 'Merlin, what happened?'
He wiggled slowly through the mud, dragging himself so his upper body hung over the drop.
The sight of his servant, lying on his back – his alabaster skin paler than normal almost undid him, but he couldn't afford to go weak at the knees now. Not when Merlin needed him. He knew there was damage, but his angle didn't allow a proper examination of the boy, so very gingerly, he scooted several metres back, swung his legs around and dropped onto the muddy slope.
'Merlin, are you still with me?' he called out gently, not able to see whether the young man was still conscious or not.
A weak groan of assent told the Prince Merlin had not yet succumbed to the pain.
With light steps, Arthur picked his way down, gripping the boulders to keep himself from slipping. The closer he got to his fallen friend, the more intensely he began to worry.
Merlin's mud-streaked face was screwed up in a mask of pain, and violent shivers wracked his slight form as the Prince approached . When Arthur saw the state of the leg that was wedged between the two rough boulders, he almost lost his lunch.
Jagged bone protruded from the torn skin of his calf, and blood soaked the material of his breeches at an alarming rate. The gash was so wide and deep, he could see Merlin's muscles vibrate inside his leg, and that was when his stomach did protest, causing the Prince to retch.
'Gods above Merlin,' he gasped, wiping the bile from his lips. 'You clumsy dolt,'
The boy didn't smile at the endearing jibe, he just squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and whimpered pathetically.
'Hurts,' he grunted, biting his lip and taking a shuddering breath. 'Arthur, it bloody hurts,'
Arthur crawled forward and pushed Merlin's sodden fringe from his brow. 'I know,' he whispered.
They were in quite the predicament, stuck down a muddy bank in the rain – but he had to try and move Merlin. The river was rising rapidly and the young man was losing a lot of blood. The Prince gripped Merlin's chin and forced him to open his eyes.
'I have to get your leg free Merlin, ok?' he said gently, trying to smooth the frown of agony etched into his forehead.
The young man nodded slowly and gritted his teeth as Arthur moved away.
Prince Arthur winced as he took in the boy's injury. Never had he seen a break so severe, and it was nauseating to see the torn flesh beneath his skin spurt hot blood down his leg. With some hesitation, he wrapped one hand around Merlin's too-thin ankle and rested the other firmly upon his knee.
He took a deep breath and turned to his friend, who was watching him with pain filled eyes.
'Do it,' he grunted with a nod. So Arthur did.
The scream before had been hard to hear, but this one...
This one suggested a whole new world of pain for Merlin, pain that Arthur never wanted the young man to feel ever again. He cautiously lowered the mangled limb to the ground and reached up to grip his trembling hand.
Merlin was still conscious, but barely. He had to get him back to Camelot as soon as possible.
Crawling back up by Merlin's side, he reached out and lifted his head slowly, fumbling for the knot of his trademark neckerchief that rested at the back of his neck.
'I have to slow the bleeding, but I don't want to push the bone back in...'
Merlin's eyes widened. 'Bleeding? What do you mean, push the bone back in?' He cried out hysterically, propping himself up on his elbows.
'No Merlin, you don't want to-'
The youth vomited, the contents of his stomach splattering his tunic as his eyes rolled back. Arthur caught the back of his head and lowered it gently as the man finally lost consciousness.
Good. He thought. It would make it a lot less painful for Merlin when Arthur carried him back up the embankment.
Squeezing out the soaked cloth, he tied it tightly just under his knee, hoping it would be an effective tourniquet until he could get him to Gaius.
With a grunt, the Prince lifted the light boy and draped him across his shoulders, leaving his hands free to climb up the slope.
Several times, Arthur nearly fell backwards, but after a gruelling thirty minutes, he was on flat ground once more, legs trembling with exertion.
He rested only for a moment, before gathering Merlin up and continuing back the direction they came.
Of course Arthur had been lying about the destroyed bridge – he was only going to let Merlin believe it for a little while, before admitting the joke and heading back to the citadel.
It had been funny then, watching Merlin scowl and murmur to himself. Funny up until he fell and broke his damned leg spectacularly.
Guilt welled up inside him as he trudged across the sturdy wooden structure, more guilt when Merlin stirred in his arms and woke, glaring at him through heavy lidded eyes before bursting into tears at the intense pain.
At the other side of the bridge, Arthur rested him against a tree.
'W-why did you lie about the bridge, clotpole?' Merlin gasped as Arthur inspected his leg. The Prince grimaced at the accusatory tone.
'I'm sorry Merlin...I wasn't going to be dragging you around much longer. I thought I would let it go on for a little bit, then tell you and we could laugh and go home,' he admitted. 'But you-'
'I fell and broke my bloody leg,' he spat.
Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and reached up to grip the young man's shoulder, his eyes wet with tears.
'Yes...and I'm the biggest dollop-head Camelot has ever known,'
Merlin's eyes softened and he gave Arthur a small smile.
'The biggest,' he repeated, his eyes sliding shut.
He was out again.
Arthur sighed and picked him up once more. It was going to be a long walk.
*~*M*~*
It was past midnight when Arthur crashed through the doors of the Physicians chambers, effectively rousing the sleeping old man.
Upon seeing his ward unconscious and soaked to the bone in the dim firelight, he vacated the cot quickly and motioned for Arthur to put him down.
'What happened Sire?' he asked groggily, lighting some candles.
'He fell down an embankment in the rain. Broke his leg badly,' Arthur panted, accepting the warm blanket that Gaius draped over his shivering form.
The man was quiet for sometime as he inspected the wound, his mouth in a thin line of worry.
'We have to get him out of these wet clothes...hand me your knife,' he instructed, holding out his palm.
Arthur pulled it from his boot and handed it to him hilt first.
Very carefully, Gaius cut his breeches down the seam and pulled them off, flinging the ruined garment aside.
Wanting to help, the Prince pulled Merlin's tunic over his head and pulled a blanket over his pale chest.
'Will he be alright?' he asked softly, watching Gaius eye the protruding bone.
'I don't know Sire. Help me get some sleeping draught into him. He is likely to wake when I set the bone, and that will be less than pleasant,' he replied.
Arthur nodded and pinched Merlin's nose as Gaius dribbled the fluid in his mouth and rubbed his throat to encourage him to swallow.
The physician gathered some clean cloths and packed them around his leg before plunging his hand into the wound.
Arthur turned and threw up in a nearby pail.
'What are you doing?' he asked incredulously, watching Merlin flinch in pain.
Gaius did not look up from his task when he answered. 'I must ensure that the bone is set properly and doesn't interfere with any nerves or muscle. There isn't much displacement, so...'
With a grunt, the old man eased the bone back into place, connecting the two pieces to eventually knit.
He didn't say it allowed, but he knew Merlin's magic would fuse the bone initially, so that the natural healing process would be less unpleasant.
'Arthur, you go and get some dry clothes...I must stitch the wound now and ensure it is free of infection. Come back when you are warm and I will give you something to prevent illness,'
He was hesitant to leave, but Arthur nodded and turned to leave, knowing the worst had passed.
When he returned more than an hour later, Merlin was conscious and in minimal pain, thanks to Gaius's tonic.
'How are you feeling?' he asked, pulling up a stool and sitting by the bed.
Merlin gave him a small smile. ''M fine now, prat,' he slurred, burrowing into his pillows.
The prince ruffled his hair lightly, returning the smile. 'Good...that's good,' he replied, still feeling guilty.
The young man sighed and looked down at his useless leg. 'I won't be able to use it for a month or so,' he said grimly, before turning back to the Prince to give him a wry smile. 'Maybe you'll think twice about lying to me next time Arthur. Now you're stuck with George.'
'Merlin?'
'Shut up?' he ventured.
Arthur punched him gently in the arm. 'You know Merlin, sometimes you are smarter than I give you credit for.'
Likey? I hope so!
Next prompt goes to Synk, where Merlin ends up with a bad back from being thrown into too many walls!