Hey guys. So, this is for Ms. Fairweather and one of my guest reviewers. They wanted a bandit storyline, and this is what I came up with. Thanks for the suggestion guys, and I do have a few more to fulfill (plus a kickass line I need to add, and I promise I am going to add it when I find the correct spot).
So, thanks for reviewing, alerting, and favoriting. I hope you guys enjoyed this and I'd love to hear from you again.
Thanks for reading, I still don't own anyone Merlin related, and seriously if you have an idea you want to see me attempt, let me know.
Thanks again
Merlin had been missing for six hours, eleven minutes, and thirty-two seconds (if anyone asked Gwaine counted) and Arthur had been tracking him for six hours and eleven minutes. A group of bandits had attacked while their hunting party had been taking a break, leaving three knights dead, two wounded, and Merlin dragged away into the rapidly darkening forest.
"Arthur, we may have to stop for the night," Leon suggested softly, stopping next to Arthur's horse, squinting into the darkness.
"Not until Merlin is found," Arthur replied determined, eyes peeled for any sudden movements.
"I second that," Gwaine concurred, pulling his steed up beside Arthur's. "If you want to stop, Leon, I'm all for it, but I'm not abandoning Merlin."
"I wasn't suggesting…" Leon trailed off, shaking his head. "Let's keep going." He motioned for the remaining knights to follow, and the small group followed Arthur further into the forest.
They spotted an orange glow in the distance, and the knights dismounted their horses, continuing on foot. Arthur signaled for Elyan, Leon, and Gwaine to go one way while he and Percival went the other. They split up, surrounding the small camp, listening to a few drunken voices, one particularly loud.
"Dance servant boy, dance," the voice snarled and loud guffaws followed.
Arthur held up a hand, halting Percival in his tracks, and peeked around a tree. He watched as the leader (or he figured it was the leader) shot arrows at Merlin's feet. The man in question looked exhausted, hunched over inside a too small cage, holding his bloody arm as he tried to jump away from the arrows.
"Maybe we should jus' kill 'im," another bandit suggested, toying with his dagger, sneering at Merlin.
"Malcolm, what did I say about giving orders," the leader snarled, turning his crossbow on the other man.
"Don'," Malcolm grumbled darkly, backing away from the leader, his eyes trained on the bow.
"Exactly," the leader hissed, turning back to Merlin. "Where's your great king now, Servant Boy?"
"Behind that tree," Merlin responded softly, his eyes flickering up to meet Arthur's. He smirked and Arthur knew that was his cue to attack.
"What are you…?" the bandit leader cut off when the knights rushed him and his men. Since half were already drunker than Gwaine on a Friday night, they barely had time to get their swords before the knight of Camelot were upon them.
Three of the bandits were dead, bodies littering the forest floor, before the rest could get to their feet. Arthur engaged the leader, the latter abandoning his crossbow for his sword. Their swords clanged together, metal upon metal, each blow more vicious than the last.
The battle went on for several long, tiring minutes, but eventually the knights managed to either kill or chase off a majority of the bandits. However, they barely had time to pat themselves on the back, when they heard a familiar shout of surprise.
As one, the knights turned to see Malcolm holding his dagger to Merlin's neck, dragging the pale servant backwards with him. He sneered, his yellow teeth catching the light from the fire, and he snarled, "Come any closer and I'll slit 'is throat all the way to 'is giant ears." To prove his point, he slowly dragged the edge across Merlin's neck, barely touching the soft flesh, but still making small beads of blood pool and slowly dribble down his pale skin.
"Let him go," Gwaine snarled stepping forward, but Percival slammed into his chest, sending him back a step, murmuring words of warning to him.
"Listen, Malcolm, this won't end well for you," Arthur said softly, trying to stay calm, eyes settling on Merlin. "You kill him and they won't find your body. We'll make sure of it." He widened his eyes slightly, before letting them quickly dart to the abandoned bow, silently conveying a message to Merlin. The younger man nodded after a few seconds, readying himself.
"I don' really care," Malcolm snapped taking another step back.
"I think Merlin might," Arthur retorted with a short nod at the servant. The younger man took the cue, slamming his elbow into Malcolm's face. The bandit screamed in pain, letting Merlin go in surprise.
The next few seconds were confusing. Arthur stooped down, grabbing the crossbow off the ground. Lucky for him, the leader had left a bow in it, and he shot at Malcolm. The arrow flew at the bandit just as he threw his dagger.
There were several shouts, a heavy weight slammed into Arthur, and the king found himself colliding with the ground, in a tangled mess of limbs, not sure which way was up and which was down. Finally, after a few seconds of chaos, he was able to sit up, his eyes widening when he spotted the dagger sticking out of Merlin's side.
"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, scrambling to his knees, crawling over to his servant's side. "Merlin." He rested his hand against the younger man's neck, feeling a steady pulse beat against his palm. "Merlin, stay with me."
"Arthur?" Merlin murmured his eyes half opening, blood leaking from a cut just above his eyebrow, trailing down his pale face. "W-what happened?"
"You took a dagger to the side, you idiot," Arthur replied softly, shrugging his cloak off. He bunched it up, pressing it into Merlin's side, trying to ignore the warm liquid spilling from the wound. "Y-you're going to be fine."
"I know," Merlin said softly, looking down at the dagger. "It didn't hit anything vital."
"And how do you know this?" Arthur demanded, worried for Merlin's mental state.
"Because it hit your canteen," Merlin responded glancing at the bunched up cloak. Sure enough, when Arthur lowered his cloak, he realized the liquid spilling from the 'wound' was actually water.
"How did you…?"
"They weren't exactly the smartest bunch." Slowly, Merlin sat up, putting a hand to his still bleeding head, using the other to pull the dagger out of the canteen. "I think I have a concussion," he commented pulling his hand away and studying the blood staining his palm.
"I should start making you wear a helmet," Arthur grumbled pushing himself to his feet. He offered Merlin a hand, the younger man taking it. When he was standing, Merlin wavered, Arthur's grasp the only thing keeping him upright.
"It wouldn't do much good," Gwaine stated moving to take the other half of Merlin's weight. "He'd probably knock himself out with it."
"Please stop, you're making me laugh so hard," Merlin retorted sarcastically, earning an eye roll from Arthur, a smirk from Gwaine, and a chuckle from the rest of the knights.
"I say we make camp where we left the horses and make sure your hard head isn't too damaged," Percival suggested gently ruffling Merlin's hair, causing the younger man to flinch slightly. "Sorry."
"You know," Merlin started as the small group headed back to their horses, "if you stopped bringing me on these hunting trips this wouldn't have…"
"You're not getting out of the next hunting trip, Merlin," Arthur interrupted with a smirk.
"That's just not fair."