Bleeding Out

Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it.

A/N: For Whumptober 2023 #22 "They never saw us coming, 'til they hit the floor." Glass Shard

Merlin was at the tavern, actually at the tavern, and not on a secret magic mission to keep the royal pain in his ass alive. Sometimes he thought it would be so much easier to keep the prat alive if Arthur knew about his magic, if he didn't have Merlin executed on the spot of course. He had been born with magic and served in a land that outlawed it at the pains of death. His life had become so much more complicated when he became Prince Arthur of Camelot's servant.

He was constantly working for the ungrateful spoiled brat. He had saved the clodpole's life countless times and Arthur just thought he was sneaking away to the tavern. He often made Merlin want to drown himself in a bottle. Sometimes Merlin caught glimpses of a great king he could someday be, the one the Great Dragon spoke of but most of the time he was too much like his tyrant father. Uther had been the one to declare the magical purges, it would be so easy to let the current magical threat take out the king, but usually they wanted to kill the son as well. No matter how much the prince drove him to want to drink he had somehow, almost like magic, become somebody Merlin cared about. Merlin had grown up without a father and he didn't wish that fate on the man who had become his friend.

Despite the division of class and expectations the two of them, the prince and his servant had become friends, not that either one of them would admit it. They still argued and teased and hated each other on occasion. They had proved they were willing to die for one another time and time again. When one walked into danger the other was not far behind. Even though Arthur didn't know of the magical protection Merlin worked so hard to bestow upon him, he still trusted his servant with everything. The prince trusted him with more than his life and safety he trusted his servant with his doubts and his pain. Merlin had become his ultimate confidante and the main person he would go to for advice on the things that troubled him.

Merlin trusted the man with his very life but not his magic. He refused to put his friend in a position between love and duty, between his father and his friend. He hoped someday when magic was once more welcome in Camelot he could tell Arthur the truth. He hoped when Arthur was king he would understand why his most trusted friend had lied to him for so long. That he would accept Merlin, all of him. There would no longer be anything hidden between them and they could unite the land of Albion together. It was a future he held onto tightly, as tightly as he gripped his cup.

It had been a trying few weeks full of many magical enemies that Merlin had to take care of without revealing his own magic. He was tired and just wanted a temporary reprieve. His heart was heavy inside his chest. It felt like shards of himself were constantly being torn away and sacrificed little by little until soon there would be nothing left of him. Maybe when his magic was revealed someday there would be not enough left of him to execute.

Merlin was always looked down upon no matter what he did, just a lowly servant boy, a coward, who was secretly more powerful than anyone could even imagine. He was tired of always having to make the life or death decisions. Of saving Arthur but seemingly damning himself in the process. Of feeling like a criminal for just trying to do the right thing. Of always hiding who he really was. He was so very tired of pretending, weighing each word and action so carefully all the time, never free to be himself.

He had been alone drinking for some time, trying to drown his sorrows and maybe forget his troubles for a time, but the ale was not improving upon Merlin's woes. He was getting ready to call it a night and go back to his little bed and curl up in his own misery. Morning would come too soon and Arthur would relish making Merlin work through his self-inflicted headache and nausea. This time his servant had actually been shirking his duties by drinking in a tavern.

A drunken stranger had taken an instant dislike to Merlin. Throughout the night he had spent his time hurling insults at the young man from across the room. Since becoming Prince Arthur's servant Merlin had developed rather thick skin when people said things about him, Nobles were not kind to those below their station. As a servant, he was expected to hold his tongue. He still had a harder time ignoring injustice and bullying of others but he had learned to take a lot of verbal and sometimes physical abuse from others. With Arthur, he could sling back a barrage of words just as well as the prince. Once insults had become almost terms of endearments or just fun bantering between them. Occasionally one or both crossed lines and feelings could become hurt at cutting words but the pair, as they grew closer, were better about avoiding painful territories.

Merlin laid down some coins to pay for his drinks, really more than he could afford to spend so recklessly, but he was far past caring. Stumbling to his feet he weaved his way to the door. He was stopped from exiting by the large stranger. Merlin tried to talk his way out of a fight, his words were his first defense. When they failed he tried to subtly call upon his magic. The large man was faster than his size suggested or perhaps Merlin was drunker than he'd like to admit. The man had him up above his head and out the window before his eyes could flash gold.

Merlin lay gasping in the dirty street, glass strewn about him. The shards stung his skin as scarlet droplets fell like teardrops. He pushed himself up to sit as he watched in fascination as his blood dripped out of him from dozens of cuts. His life felt like his body now did, each new small cut draining away his life a little bit at a time.

Shadowy figures moved around him but his eyes stayed glued to his bleeding cuts. He ignored the commotion in the tavern, expecting his assailant to soon come out and finish him off. His trance only broke when a hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped at the touch, fighting the grip. He wasn't ready to give up yet, he had too much left to do. He may feel like he was bleeding out sometimes but he had gotten pretty good at patching up his hemorrhaging heart. Even if they didn't know everything about him or his internal struggles, he still had people he cared about and who cared about him, waiting for him to come back to them. He had fought too hard and lost too much to give up now.

"Merlin you idiot," Arthur appeared before his face as if his magic had summoned him. His harsh words couldn't hide the concern shining in his eyes as he looked down at his servant, "I told you to stay out of the taverns."

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked confused. He had quietly finished his nightly duties and left the prince to turn in for the night before he had gone down to the tavern. Arthur should be safe sleeping in bed but instead, he looked like he had been in a brawl. He had been trained since birth to fight but he was still human. There was a bruise on his cheek and a split in his lip. A slight trickle of blood dripped down his chin.

"I was bored," Arthur said no longer meeting his eye, "Let's get you back to Gaius." The Prince of Camelot heaved up his servant and supported his bleeding form all the way back to the castle. When one was cut they both bled.