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Merlin - Shadows of Truth [Part 2 of 2]
Title: Shadows of Truth
Genre: Gen, Friendship, H/C, Angst
Rating: R
Length: ~ 17,800 words
Warnings: Violence, threat of non-con
Spoilers/Series: Originally written before 2.03, but ended up going a similar direction, so slight spoilers for that.
Synopsis: Captured and held for ransom, they must escape and try to find their way home. This would be far easier if Arthur wasn’t blind, Morgana half-blind, and Merlin did not have a head wound while trying to sneakily do magic.
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to the wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emeraldteal for beta duties. Any and all lingering errors are mine and mine alone.
Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Link to Part 1
~~~~~~~~~~
He awoke to a rough shake and a rougher voice urging him to just wake up already. He could not tell which hurt more, the agony in his skull or the misery that was every single muscle of the rest of his body. For a brief panic-filled moment, he could not get his eyes to open and he feared his vision had run off with Arthur’s and Morgana’s, only to discover it was simply his own body refusing to listen to instructions. With a bit of concentration he was able to get them to flutter open, only to slam them shut again against the sunlight pouring in through the cave’s entrance.
He tried not to moan but knew he had not succeeded when he heard Arthur’s voice say, “There you go, stay awake then, it looks like we’ve got company.”
His eyes slowly focused on the red shirt hovering above him, and then beyond to where he could just make out the shapes of Gwen and Morgana against the incoming light. “I told you he should not have slept with a head wound,” Morgana complained.
“It was less sleep and more passed out unconscious after putting up some sort of barrier around us,” Gwen replied. She spared a glance in his direction and offered a quick smile when she saw him looking at her. “Besides, he rather earned the rest, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure he did wonderful, stories for ages and all that, but if he doesn’t get moving, he won’t be around to hear them,” Arthur retorted.
Morgana’s head whipped around in their direction. “I’m not leaving him behind,” she protested.
“Neither am I,” Arthur promised. “But if he does not get moving, none of us will be around to sing his tales.”
“Don’t like singing,” Merlin heard himself say. “All those noises and voices...”
Strong arms manhandled him into an upright position and, when he was able to open his eyes again, it was to look right into the face of a rather worried looking prince. “You don’t like singing because you are awful at it,” Arthur told him. He slung Merlin’s arm around his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “I, on the other hand, excel at it like any good piece of royalty should.”
Merlin was about to comment that he was certainly a piece of something, and not just royalty, but stopped himself and instead asked, “Can you see again?”
Arthur looked away just a bit too quickly. He sighed and reluctantly shook his head. “My eyes are doing much better, but you still just look like a lump of colours,” he admitted. Before Merlin could ask, he expanded, “And Morgana has improved to simply squinting at things, so it gives me hope this shall go away completely soon enough.”
“Soon enough to fight whatever’s out there?” Merlin asked. He still had an arm around Arthur, but used his free hand to brace himself against the cave wall. The nausea was passing, though he was not sure if that was because he was doing better or his stomach figured out there was nothing left in it to empty.
“That’s the plan,” Arthur replied with a quirk of his head. Apparently satisfied that Merlin was standing on his own, he eased himself forward to the front of the cave. His sword was already in his hand, much like Morgana’s dirk and Gwen’s blade, but he seemed reluctant to simply charge forward to face whatever lay in wait for them. He turned to Merlin and asked, “This barrier Gwen mentioned, is it still up?”
Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to reach out with his magic, felt the boundaries he had placed the night before. The dizziness surged for a moment, but thankfully abated back to its previous state soon enough. “It’s weaker, but still there,” he confirmed. “I can try to strengthen it, but...”
“But it will knock you on your arse and make you utterly useless,” Arthur guessed.
“From the sound of it, whoever is out there has already figured out we are nearby,” Morgana told them. “Even if Merlin tried to reinforce what he’s done, if they find us and attack it and he’s unable to strengthen it further, we’re as good as caught as there is no other exit to this cavern.”
“Then we run again,” Arthur replied with a shrug that was just a bit too forced.
Merlin groaned. He had known to expect it, but that did not mean he was looking forward to it any more with the knowledge.
“Will they see anything if you lower whatever you made?” Gwen asked. She turned to Arthur and explained, “When it went up, there was an odd glow about it.”
“Brilliant,” Arthur sighed. “So taking it down might tell them where we are even faster than simply staying here?”
Merlin shook his head, and then regretted the action as he nearly toppled over once more. “It’s one way. We can get out, but they cannot get in. Well, unless or until it falls on its own, but...”
Arthur cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Right, so we can escape and they can’t see us and we’re leaving now.” That was apparently that as Merlin found a hand on his arm once more as he was pulled along with the others.
They skirted along the edge of the rocky outcropping, and darted into the trees as soon as the cover was thick enough to hide them. It became obvious fairly quickly that Merlin’s dizziness was affecting his gait, even as it was equally apparent that Morgana and Arthur were still not as proficient with their sight as both led the others to believe. There was much stumbling and quiet cursing and more than one palm skinned on sharp rocks or rough bark before they finally decided it was time to rest once more.
“Do you think we’re far enough away to be safe?” Merlin asked hopefully.
“No,” Arthur and Morgana replied in unison while Gwen regretfully shook her head.
“Then what do we do?” he asked. He was bone weary and his body longed for more than a brief respite. He knew he was probably starving but, thankfully, the lingering nausea helped keep that at bay.
“We keep going,” Morgana told him. She had torn off a piece of her already tattered gown and braided her hair sometime during the night, but a few long strands had fallen forward and she swiped at them in annoyance.
Merlin was about to ask where, but Arthur had apparently gained Morgana’s gift of insight as he suddenly stood and cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smile across his face. “We go this way,” he said, pointing in what Merlin thought might be a northerly direction.
“Why?” he asked. He thought he was being reasonable, but received a huff of irritation for his efforts.
“I hear water, which means a stream or possibly a river,” Arthur answered. “I don’t know about you, but I’m parched. We can follow it to the nearest village and get our bearings. If we’re lucky, they will be one of our own. If not, we skirt it and head home.”
Merlin wisely kept his mouth shut about their luck so far in this little adventure, and thought instead whether or not it would count as stealing if the prince and the king’s ward took food from any of the fields or residents of whatever they found. The way Morgana’s stomach grumbled, he guessed she would not be adverse to such an action. Then again, she was raised to be all courtly and maybe it would go against her upbringing.
He realized that perhaps his mind was wandering and his focus was a bit off when Gwen waved a hand in front of him and helped him get to his feet once more. As they headed off towards Arthur’s supposed water source, he resolved to keep his eyes open for fruit or berries of some sort to prevent any accusations of larceny in the near future. When he tripped and caught himself on a fortunately placed branch, he amended that resolution to keep his eyes on following the others and finding a food source if he happened to stumble across it instead.
To his surprise, there really was a stream not too far ahead. To his greater surprise, no one was laying in wait to ambush them at it. His first mouthful of water was pure an utter bliss, right up to the point it connected with his empty stomach and nearly came back up again.
“Try anyway,” Gwen urged him. She took another handful to her lips and sipped carefully. Instead of being self-conscious about the bit that trickled down her chin, she simply grabbed more and splashed it across her face, removing the worst of the grime. She did the same for her arms, then sat back and looked at Merlin expectantly.
With a sigh, he attempted to copy her actions, nearly toppling into the water when the shock of cold hit his temple. “Ow,” he winced.
She shook her head at him and gave him a look he was used to seeing associated with Gaius. In swift movements, she had his scarf removed from his neck and soaking in the water. She did not bother to ring it out completely, instead using it to mop at the side of his face.
He flinched at first, and not just from the pull of stickiness against his skin. When she dipped it in again to rinse the worst off, and pressed the sopping mess directly over his wound, he sighed in relief. The soft coolness felt wonderful and he swore the pressure receded nearly immediately, making it tolerable, if not completely departed.
“Thank you,” he told her, hoping his appreciation came through with the words.
“It’s not much, but it should help,” she smiled. “Gaius would know more, but it should do for now.” She helped him to his feet and less than subtly guided him over to where the others were waiting.
“Where to now?” he asked. He kept the cloth pressed to his head, not wanting to give up its relief quite yet.
Morgana had her eyes narrowed in a way he could not quite tell was for thought or clarity of sight as she answered, “Down river seems to wind back to where we came from. I fear we would be walking right into those looking for us if we travel that way.”
“Up river it is,” Arthur said, voicing Merlin’s own thoughts. He clapped his hands together, sending little droplets of water spraying in all directions. “Let’s get going then. If we stay near the trees we’ll have some cover, but can still be close enough to the water to stay on course.”
Plan decided, they began the next leg of their journey. Merlin swore he felt three sets of eyes upon him at any given moment, but whenever he’d try to catch them at it, each and every one would look away. It made him more than a bit concerned, to say the least. Around the fourth time it happened, he turned to Arthur and said, “Look, I...”
“How’s the head?” Arthur cut him off instead. “I obviously can’t tell myself, but both Gwen and Morgana assure me you look horrible.”
Merlin smiled despite himself as he stepped carefully over a root instead of tripping over it like he had the last one. “Still hurts,” he admitted. Determined not to be put off track, he continued, “About the magic, I...”
Arthur once again cut him off. “I am eternally grateful you were able to use it to our advantage and get all of us out of there with minimal injury,” he said, and surprisingly sounded like he meant it. “As to my promise, I fully intend to keep it. I will not tell my father anything about it and will do my best to protect you the way you have quite obviously protected us throughout all of this.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, not sure what else to say. Morgana and Gwen were offering their own assurances once more and he was torn between elation at their knowledge and support, and fear for the consequences of their newfound knowledge should they ever be discovered. When it was just him at risk, he thought he could live with that; adding the others toppled the balance and reinforced just how careful he would need to be, for their sake if not his own.
“Now,” Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder he had been using to guide himself with. “As to the whole keeping this from me for so long, that is something to be discussed when you are well enough to get drunk again.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin intoned. He knew Arthur well enough by now to know that was a promise all its own, and could possibly be conceived as a threat in its own right. He also knew he more than likely had a grin split across his face, but that was something he truly did not mind at this point.
They had not walked much further when Gwen stopped them, a frown across her features as she gazed across the water.
“What is it?” Morgana asked. She had her blade at her side and looked to be trying to see for herself.
“I thought I saw movement across the stream,” she replied. She crouched low and motioned for the others to do the same. Crawling forward and using a scraggly looking bush for cover, she motioned to nearly directly across from them. “There,” she whispered. “Between the two largest oaks.”
Merlin saw it, the glint of sunlight upon metal. He ran through several curses in his head, some actual spells but most simply profanity. “Do you think they saw us?”
Gwen shook her head. “Not yet. Stay low.”
He watched as the glint resolved into definite armour, listened as the sound of hoof beats grew nearer. They were still across the stream, but the water was far from raging and it would be a simple enough matter to cross, especially with the aid of horses.
The first rider broke through the trees and was quickly followed by many more. Far more men than Merlin had thought he had seen at the camp fanned out, bringing their horses to the shore in groups of ten or more. He blinked as something seemed incredibly familiar about them, looking to Gwen as he asked, “Is that...?”
She nodded, mouth open in surprise. “I think it is,” she confirmed.
“Well, don’t keep us in the dark, what do you see?” Arthur demanded.
He really had not needed to as a clearly recognizable voice carried across the water, “Water the horses quickly, we still have a lot of ground to cover.”
Arthur nearly hit his head on a low branch as he rushed to stand up. “Is that my father?” he asked in disbelief.
“I really think it is,” Merlin confirmed. He stood to join him, not surprised when they were spotted before they had a chance to call across to the knights of Camelot.
“Halt!” one of the men called, and Merlin could sense as much as see the number of weapons pointed in their direction.
“Leon, is that you?” Arthur shouted back. He held his sword in the air, but refused to drop it just yet.
There was the shifting of weaponry and armour as some was lowered in shock while others were raised in doubt. Uther himself rode out several paces into the water, four knights quickly moving to flank him. “Arthur?” he asked in disbelief.
“It is my father, correct?” Arthur whispered to Merlin out of the corner of his mouth. At his nod of confirmation, he called back, “It’s me, father.”
Uther crossed the stream without hesitation, a near phalanx of knights following in his wake. He had already dismounted by the time Merlin had led Arthur to the shore, pausing only when he saw the state of his son and his servant. “Are you injured?”
“My sight was taken from me, but it is returning,” Arthur assured him. The fact he was looking more at Uther’s horse than the king himself spoke volumes and Uther was not fool enough to fall for the false confidence if the expression on his face was anything to go by.
Merlin stepped back and let Uther embrace his son, watched as the king became a father, buried his face in Arthur’s hair and breathed, “I thought I lost you.” He pulled back slightly and looked into eyes that did not quite meet his gaze. “Where are Morgana and Guinevere?”
“Here,” Morgana called from the treeline. She let Gwen guide her down and reluctantly let go only when Uther wrapped an arm around her as well.
“You’re safe,” the king said in something remarkably like a sigh. “You survived and you are safe.”
Merlin hated to break up the family moment, but felt the need to point out, “We’re not so certain about the safety part. There’s a good chance we are still being followed.”
Sir Leon dismounted and strode over to Merlin. He offered a hint of a wince in sympathy upon seeing his wound before asking, “How many men and where?”
“I’m honestly not certain,” he apologized. “I’m not sure how many were in the camp, let alone how many survived to follow us.”
“Survived?” Leon asked with a raised eyebrow.
Gwen stepped up to fill him in. “We took out four or five directly, but the camp itself was...”
“Torched,” Morgana supplied. “The explosive they used against us was used against them. You should find the ashes and any survivors if you follow our trail back to them.”
When Merlin turned to look at her, he saw a sight he never thought he would see: Uther smiling. “Even blinded, you freed yourself and took down a camp of kidnappers and brigands,” he said proudly, patting Arthur on the shoulder.
“We would not have escaped, let alone survived if it had not been for Merlin and Guinevere,” Arthur quickly provided. “They were invaluable. Even when Morgana and I were blinded, even when injured, they managed to get us to safety and help fend off further attack.”
Uther looked doubtful, but took his son’s word for it. “And their loyalty and service shall be rewarded appropriately,” he promised. He embraced his son once more before the mask of king fell into place once more. A flick of his wrist and Leon and several other knights surrounded him, taking orders to seek out and destroy the camp itself and interrogate and dispose of any kidnappers they discovered along the way.
Arthur pulled Leon to the side briefly before he left and Merlin swore he overheard the words “Morgana,” “Gwen,” and “virtue” whispered between them. By the way Leon’s eyes darkened, not to mention the way he swore to have it seen to, Merlin was fairly certain the camp leader would not survive for interrogation. Still, anything had to be better than Morgana’s suggestions of castration, which had increased in detail during their escape.
Arthur returned to Merlin’s side and was quickly joined by Morgana and Gwen. He reached out and placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder once more, but it was light enough that Merlin was fairly certain it was no longer to guide him. “I intend to keep my promise,” he told Merlin’s right eyebrow. With a grin he added, “Including the part about the wine.”
Merlin smiled despite himself, never doubting a word. His head ached, his vision was blurry, and he was starving, but all in all it was turning out to be a rather excellent day.
That was, of course, when Sir Gwaine approached to ask if they were able to ride.
Arthur replied for them all, surprising them with his honesty. “I will be unable to guide a horse on my own and Merlin has quite the head wound and may need assistance. The Lady Morgana’s sight is returning, but she may need a lead as well. Guinevere is the luckiest of our lot and, aside from exhaustion, should be able to handle a mount.”
Merlin blinked as Gwaine disappeared and Arthur’s words sank in. He was kicking four knights from their rides, two of which to provide for servants. Merlin would have protested, but given he was not certain how much longer he would be able to stand on his own, simply thought about how having a prince on your side did provide for some benefits.
Gwaine himself helped Merlin mount and even offered him trail rations from his own bag. Merlin hesitated, but relented at the glare he was given for his efforts. The food was bland, dry, and delicious, and even had the added bonus of seeming to stay down.
He watched as Arthur mounted Leon’s horse and allowed himself to be tethered to his father only after he was assured Merlin was tethered to someone he personally approved of as well. Morgana insisted on being tied to Gwen, though Merlin did not miss the way several of Uther’s most trusted men closed in around the two women, and more circled the group as a whole.
When Arthur called out, “Let’s go home,” it was all he could do to smile, nod, and hope he stayed on the horse long enough not to embarrass himself in front of the king and the royal guard.
The ride to Camelot was far more arduous than he thought it had any right to be. The pounding in his head that had slightly abated with the food returned with even greater force, matched in time to the hoof beats below him. By the time they reached the main gates, the black spots swam before him once more and even the dry rations threatened to revolt.
Gaius was waiting, no doubt alerted by a rider Uther had sent ahead and Merlin had completely missed. Arthur was helped down from his horse and pushed towards the healer while Merlin contemplated how to get down without falling.
He was surprised to feel a gentle tug on his pants leg, and looked down to find Gwen and Morgana watching him expectantly. He readied himself to slide from his saddle, and expected to fall and make a sight of himself. Instead, he found hands upon him and two of Arthur’s knights lowering him to the ground, holding him steady until he could get his feet under him.
“Are you all right?” Brisen asked sceptically.
Merlin nodded and had to place a hand on the saddle to steady himself as he insisted, “I’ll be fine.”
Morgana strode forward and shook her head. “No, he will not. Help him to Gaius’ chambers,” she ordered. Despite her words, she took one arm for herself and let Gwen take the other as they led him towards the castle steps. The clatter of boots and armour behind him let him know that Brisen was still there on the off chance he escaped his captors or, possibly, fell even with their support.
Merlin was proud to have made it all the way up the staircase with minimal assistance when he saw Arthur and Gaius waiting for him. The healer approached him with a look of pity, reaching towards his head with a sighed, “Oh, Merlin.”
Merlin had a reply on his lips, something along the lines of him not being as bad off as he looked and really there was no need to worry and also everyone was simply over-reacting, that was all. Gaius’ fingers brushed his wound though and he flinched away just a bit too fast, sending his head spinning in one direction and his body reeling in the other and he barely had time to wonder which would hit him first, the darkness or the floor. As it turned out, the darkness won.
~~~~~~~~~~
He awoke to the feeling of being laid out on his back and the realization that he really needed to stop waking up in places other than where he fell asleep. Given how much the light had hurt his head on the journey home, he was reluctant to open his eyes again, but felt compelled to when he heard voices arguing beside him.
“Do sit down, sire,” Gaius requested with a lack of patience usually reserved for Merlin himself.
“He is waking up,” Arthur argued back. “Trust me, after laying in a cave with him overnight, I can hear the difference between his sleeping and his faking and Merlin, do open your eyes and prove me right.”
Merlin blinked them open to glower at him for the request and heard Gaius protest, “That’s the problem though, sire. You are hearing and not seeing, something that I am attempting to remedy and something that would be much easier if you would simply sit down.” Gaius turned in his ranting to spare a glance in Merlin’s direction and huff, “Do try to rest, boy. There’s no need to encourage him.”
“Ha! I was right!” Arthur crowed. Quieter, when he must have seen or sensed the way Merlin flinched at the sound, he added, “Very dramatic faint by the way. You were caught by a girl and everything.”
Merlin ignored the jibe, and the urge to roll his eyes, knowing only pain awaited him down that course. “Good to see you are feeling better, sire,” he groaned. Then, in a spat of retribution, added to Gaius, “I’m sure he told you about the injury to his knee as well as his eyes. I hope you were able to treat it to prevent the prince from having a permanent limp. It would be awful for the land to sing the praises of a gimp of a prince.”
Arthur scowled at him for the tattle, though Gaius offered a quirk of his lips at the game well-played. The tinkle of laughter told him that there was at least one other witness to the spat, though he was willing to place bets there were probably two as he doubted Gwen would leave Morgana’s side for long.
The healer moved a candle closer to where he lay to get a better look at him, and Merlin realized that the sun had already set during his leave with consciousness. He also realized he had been changed into a nightshirt and his wrists were neatly bandaged and wouldn’t he like to know just who was present when that happened? “How are you feeling, Merlin?” Gaius asked with near fatherly concern.
“Like I’ve been beaten about the head,” he replied with a grimace. His temple felt sticky and warm and the skin pulled in new and interesting ways with the simplest of actions. He reached a hand towards the injured area, only to find it swatted away.
“None of that,” Gaius chided. He adjusted something and the pull changed, though did not seem to lessen. “You’ve got stitches to hold it close until it heals and a poultice to fight of any infection you may have caught running around in the woods with your head split open for all to see.”
Merlin’s eyes grew wide. “Please say you did not cut my hair for this,” he pleaded. His hand started to move upwards again, only to be removed with even greater force this time.
“I’m sorely tempted to just to spite you,” Gaius grumbled. “What were you thinking? Running around, sleeping in caves? They say you even fought some of the kidnappers, and with a head wound... I should shave you bald for that,” he tsked.
“We couldn’t stay there!” he protested, the sound of his own voice ratcheting up the pounding in his skull another notch. He tried to focus on Gaius and not the blinding light of the candle. Thankfully, his mentor noticed his predicament and tucked the offending object slightly more out of view. “There is no way I would leave any of them to that lot, not even Arthur had he been whole and well.”
There was the sound of soft shoes on stone and Morgana appeared at the healer’s side. Her hair hung in damp curls about her face and she had changed into clean gown, further indication of just how long he had been out. She placed a hand on Gaius’ wrist and offered, “He saved us Gaius, in more ways than one.”
An equally scrubbed Gwen stood next to a rather silent and clean Arthur and added, “The men... their intentions for us were less than pure and...”
“And he did what I could not,” Arthur admitted in a near whisper, arms folded across his chest. This time when he did not meet anyone’s gaze it was far more intentional and had very little to do with his injury. He shrugged away from Gwen’s sympathy and added with far more of his usual bluster, “Of course then I did what he could not, namely taking on a band of brigands while blinded.”
“You took on three, maybe four,” Merlin protested, allowing him his out as well as allowing for the greater number only because his back had been turned whilst he set the camp alight. “And even then Gwen was at your side helping. She and Morgana alone...”
“Yes, yes, no need to thank me or tell boring tales,” Arthur cut him off. There was a gleam to his unfocused eyes though, that told Merlin he knew the true score of the events.
“But there is a need for him to get his rest and you lot to get your treatments,” Gaius cut in. He tried to shoo them away, and huffed in resignation when all he managed to do was to have the three take seats around the room.
The healer started with Morgana, who was doing remarkably well, all things considered. Her vision had returned to nearly normal, though still a bit hazy around the edges per her reports. He carefully washed around each eye and cleansed and bandaged the damage the rope had done to her wrists as well as several other incidental scratches that were as likely from their escape as from their original capture.
Merlin propped himself up on the rather uncomfortable cot he had been laid out on as he felt silly just laying there and truly was not that tired or, at the very least, was far from ready to sleep just yet. Perhaps his time unconscious had served as that “healing rest” Gaius was always on about, or perhaps he was still on edge from everything that had happened. The room swam around him a bit with the movement, and the pain surged, but thankfully receded back to the dull pounding ache relatively quickly.
His thoughts of sneaking off to his own bed in his own room faded with the pain and the realization he would probably trip over his own feet and make more of a mess of things along the way. Besides, it was kind of nice to simply be there, with the others, with no life-endangering peril circling about. The fact he had no idea whether or not he was wearing pants beneath the blankets played absolutely no role in this decision whatsoever.
Gwen disappeared for a moment, but reappeared with the pillow from his room. She added it to the one already on the cot and he obediently settled back against them at the look she gave him. Far more comfortable and still able to see what was going on around him, he stopped her from returning to the chair on the other side of the room to ask, “How are you doing? I mean, after everything. We never really stopped to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. Now it was his turn to level her with a look. She relented with an embarrassed twist of her lips and answered, “Tired, really. A bit hungry too. Overall though? Just happy to be home.”
She was fidgeting with the skirt of her new dress and he noticed both the rope burn and other scratches on her wrists and running up her arms to disappear under her sleeves. He took one of her hands into his bandaged own, stilling the movement. The façade fell and she looked near tears for a moment before blinking them away. “We’re home,” he told her, squeezing her hand to help it sink in. “We’re not there and we’re safe. You’re safe, okay?”
She nodded with a sniff and used the back of her free hand to swipe at her eyes. “Still think I’ll be sleeping with a candle for a while though,” she admitted.
“Candle?” Morgana scoffed. “I’ll be sleeping with a blade.”
“That too,” Gwen conceded, the hint of a smile returning.
“And we’ll all be sleeping in the castle for the time being,” Arthur cut in. He turned roughly to Gwen’s direction and added somewhat sympathetically, “I know you have your father’s place, but I do think it would be safest for all if you stayed here, at least until we are certain the men have been apprehended. We can send a man for whatever you need, even station one to look after the place if you prefer, but those men saw you, saw what you looked like and know who you are. Not to mention that Morgana’s going to need extra help until her sight properly returns. I won’t order it, but I would strongly suggest you consider it.”
Gwen nodded, but must have realized Arthur may have missed it. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Morgana herself. “We already discussed this. Gwen will stay with me. Just knowing that neither one of us will be alone will allow me to sleep better at night.”
Gwen looked rather relieved with the declaration, though Merlin noticed she had not objected to Arthur’s little speech either. He did not blame her; he felt rather shaken by everything himself and he had not needed to deal with any of the threats against his person in the manner she did. He had a suspicious feeling that Gwen would not be the only one sleeping with a candle tonight, and tried to remember the spell that made certain he did not burn down his room in his sleep.
Arthur clapped his hands suddenly, both startling Merlin and making him wince from the sound. “Right, with that settled, I believe Guinevere mentioned something about food? I’m famished.” He stood and managed to both nearly knock over the chair he had been sitting in and topple several glass vials scattered along the nearby tabletop. A whispered word from Merlin steadied the glass and earned a sharp look from Gaius, who then looked around nervously to make sure no one else saw.
They had, of course, with the possible exception of Arthur himself, and Merlin knew it. He also knew they were all pointedly ignoring the action, Gwen to the point of joining Morgana with their backs determinedly facing the still shifting bottles as they talked nonsense about some flower or another drying in bunches from the ceiling. None of them, however, could ignore the way Arthur lumbered towards the door with a stiff gait and noticeable limp.
“And where do you think you are going?” Gaius challenged.
“You will break your neck on the staircase before you reach the kitchens,” Morgana helpfully advised. She joined him at the bookcase he was trying to open, even though it had no doors, and directed him towards the actual entrance to the room.
“I don’t plan on going that far,” Arthur scoffed. “You know my father will have guards stationed everywhere we go for a fortnight, if not more. One of them can be useful and get us something to eat,” he pointed out.
Morgana simply shrugged, not willing to fight him on this issue. Arthur opened the door and, sure enough, three of the king’s guards were waiting in the hallway. “To your left,” she heaved a put upon sigh when he started to address a tapestry instead of the men.
Gaius used the distraction to return to Merlin’s side. “Magic in front of the prince? Are you mad?” he hissed.
“He can’t see me anyway,” Merlin whispered back in his defence. “Besides, I know how long that blue stuff takes to brew, I wasn’t about to let him smear it all over the floor in his blundering.”
Gaius sighed, something he did quite often when Merlin, magic, or the prince was concerned. “And the others?” he asked, though he seemed far less concerned about Gwen or Morgana turning him in to the king. Merlin had the grace to look sheepish, which seemed to do the trick and make Gaius back down. “I’m letting this go as the effects of your wound,” he muttered. “Please don’t give me reason to make my heart hurt in such a manner again?”
Merlin smiled in apology and offered, “If it’s any grace, I think my head might hurt more than your heart right about now.”
“There’s a solution to that,” Gaius deadpanned. “Don’t do stupid things.”
Arthur had chosen that moment to return, helped towards his chair by the combined forces of Gwen and Morgana. “Merlin do something stupid? Surely you jest,” he mocked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to my plight?” Merlin complained good-naturedly.
Arthur pretended to ponder than for a moment before he shrugged, “Being that I cannot actually see your plight right now? Probably not.” With a raise of his eyebrows, he added, “If it is any consolation, both Morgana and Gwen assure me you still look truly awful. I’ll have to wait for my sight to return to determine if they mean your injury or your permanent state.”
This time, Merlin gave in to the urge to roll his eyes, though he quickly wished he had not. The pain flared something awful and his vision whitened at the edges. He bit his lip to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds and pressed his head back into the pillows as he pinched his eyes closed tightly.
When he opened them again, Gaius hovered above him making tsking sounds again. He blinked and a cup was held to his lips, steaming with something he knew would most likely taste awful. He dutifully sipped, and even managed not to gag as the concoction slid its way down his gullet.
“Was that for the pain, or revenge?” he asked when he was able.
“A bit of both,” Gaius replied with a forced smile. He wandered away with the cup and called over his shoulder, “It should dull the worst of it and help the healing process.”
Merlin nodded tightly and closed his eyes once more. He listened to the sounds of Gaius treating Arthur and Gwen, feeling a warmth spread from his chest to the very tips of his fingers and toes and aches he barely knew he had slowly disappeared.
A hand slipped into his own and squeezed lightly, offering him silent support. He opened one eye just enough to see the green of Morgana’s dress and the hint of dark curls. The lilt of her voice mixed in with the others, though they all seemed softer somehow, hushed against the gentle sounds of the rest of the room.
He felt himself begin to drift, catching only snippets instead of whole conversations, feeling the blankets warm and snug around him. Gaius’ brew worked its own sort of magic, and he was on the cusp of sleep when possibly the only thing that could drew him out of it: the scent of dinner arriving.
He felt odd as Gwen and Gaius directed where to put the food whilst he simply lay there and watched. His one attempt to sit up to help was met with a less than gentle push to his shoulder and a firm command to stay put. He was beginning to wonder how he was expected to eat half laying down, but Gaius enlisted the aid of one of the knights to help him to his feet and bring him to the table to join the others. It was at this time he discovered that yes, he was wearing pants, and that it was far chillier away from the bed. A blanket was tucked around him and another wrapped about his shoulders and he really would have complained about being treated like the infirm, but it was rather nice to be looked after and fussed over for a change.
His eyes widened when he saw just how much food was on offer. Plates of meats and cheeses and breads filled the table along with flagons of wine and mead. Gaius pointedly poured him tea, letting him know what was off limits with his injury, but he still could not stop staring at everything. It was more than just the prince’s favourites as well; the little cakes Morgana preferred were there, as well as a savoury stew he remembered mentioning to the cooks as one of the best he ever had.
“All of this?” he asked breathlessly. His hands twitched to grab at anything and everything as his stomach made its needs known, but politeness had been ingrained in him enough to force him to wait.
“This is nothing,” Arthur scoffed. “Wait until you see the feast you know father will host for us once we are up to it. I promise you won’t even have to serve at it,” he grinned. He reached for a plate and nearly toppled Morgana’s recently filled goblet. She slapped his hand away and filled his plate herself before moving on to her own.
Merlin had no idea where to begin, not used to such a wide range of offerings. Gwen solved that for him by filling a bowl with the stew he so loved and placing it before him. He took a hesitant bite, not certain if his recent bout of nausea was fully passed, but relaxed when it seemed Gaius’ mixture was doing its duty and keeping everything down as well.
Gaius himself had wandered off to advise the king of their status with a gentle reprimand to please not make too great of a mess of his rooms. It was just the four of them once more, pressed perhaps a bit too closely together, bumping and jostling each other while they ate, revelling in their nearness and simply being alive as much as the richness laid out before them.
When Merlin slowed, the warmth in his belly a match for the warmth of the rest of his body, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. Arthur leaned close, the faint hint of wine upon his breath a match for the droplets on his shirt after one misaligned sip near the beginning of the meal. “I intend to keep my promise, you know,” he confided, as if Merlin had forgotten his earlier declarations. Then again, that was in the midst of their escape and this was back in the castle after he had a chance to think clearly and calmly once more. Perhaps it had been entirely possible he had debated changing his mind.
“Which one? The one not to tell or the one to get me drunk and get everything out of me?” Merlin asked, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.
“Both,” Arthur swore with a serious nod. His face broke into a smile and he patted Merlin on the blanket-clad shoulder as he added, “Of course, with your tolerance for wine, it shouldn’t take much before you’re telling me exactly when you learned how to do that thing with the lock and all its various uses.”
Merlin shook his head and accepted one of the sweet cakes from Morgana and another mug of tea from Gwen. The relief that flowed through him was tangible, as was the sense of protection and something more he could not quite place his finger on just yet. He was safe. They knew, and yet he was still safe. They worked together, protected each other, and he had the odd feeling this would not be the last time they did so.
As Arthur offered a toast to their victory, he added a silent toast to his own. The conversation soon turned to just how heroic their tale should become, with Gwen and Morgana offering as many corrections as embellishments as the night wore on. Listening to friends, feeling warm and safe and whole, even if it was only in a nightshirt and a fair amount of blankets, Merlin knew for certain that he was home.
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcomed.
Genre: Gen, Friendship, H/C, Angst
Rating: R
Length: ~ 17,800 words
Warnings: Violence, threat of non-con
Spoilers/Series: Originally written before 2.03, but ended up going a similar direction, so slight spoilers for that.
Synopsis: Captured and held for ransom, they must escape and try to find their way home. This would be far easier if Arthur wasn’t blind, Morgana half-blind, and Merlin did not have a head wound while trying to sneakily do magic.
Author’s Notes: Many thanks to the wonderful
emeraldteal for beta duties. Any and all lingering errors are mine and mine alone.Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Link to Part 1
~~~~~~~~~~
He awoke to a rough shake and a rougher voice urging him to just wake up already. He could not tell which hurt more, the agony in his skull or the misery that was every single muscle of the rest of his body. For a brief panic-filled moment, he could not get his eyes to open and he feared his vision had run off with Arthur’s and Morgana’s, only to discover it was simply his own body refusing to listen to instructions. With a bit of concentration he was able to get them to flutter open, only to slam them shut again against the sunlight pouring in through the cave’s entrance.
He tried not to moan but knew he had not succeeded when he heard Arthur’s voice say, “There you go, stay awake then, it looks like we’ve got company.”
His eyes slowly focused on the red shirt hovering above him, and then beyond to where he could just make out the shapes of Gwen and Morgana against the incoming light. “I told you he should not have slept with a head wound,” Morgana complained.
“It was less sleep and more passed out unconscious after putting up some sort of barrier around us,” Gwen replied. She spared a glance in his direction and offered a quick smile when she saw him looking at her. “Besides, he rather earned the rest, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure he did wonderful, stories for ages and all that, but if he doesn’t get moving, he won’t be around to hear them,” Arthur retorted.
Morgana’s head whipped around in their direction. “I’m not leaving him behind,” she protested.
“Neither am I,” Arthur promised. “But if he does not get moving, none of us will be around to sing his tales.”
“Don’t like singing,” Merlin heard himself say. “All those noises and voices...”
Strong arms manhandled him into an upright position and, when he was able to open his eyes again, it was to look right into the face of a rather worried looking prince. “You don’t like singing because you are awful at it,” Arthur told him. He slung Merlin’s arm around his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. “I, on the other hand, excel at it like any good piece of royalty should.”
Merlin was about to comment that he was certainly a piece of something, and not just royalty, but stopped himself and instead asked, “Can you see again?”
Arthur looked away just a bit too quickly. He sighed and reluctantly shook his head. “My eyes are doing much better, but you still just look like a lump of colours,” he admitted. Before Merlin could ask, he expanded, “And Morgana has improved to simply squinting at things, so it gives me hope this shall go away completely soon enough.”
“Soon enough to fight whatever’s out there?” Merlin asked. He still had an arm around Arthur, but used his free hand to brace himself against the cave wall. The nausea was passing, though he was not sure if that was because he was doing better or his stomach figured out there was nothing left in it to empty.
“That’s the plan,” Arthur replied with a quirk of his head. Apparently satisfied that Merlin was standing on his own, he eased himself forward to the front of the cave. His sword was already in his hand, much like Morgana’s dirk and Gwen’s blade, but he seemed reluctant to simply charge forward to face whatever lay in wait for them. He turned to Merlin and asked, “This barrier Gwen mentioned, is it still up?”
Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and tried to reach out with his magic, felt the boundaries he had placed the night before. The dizziness surged for a moment, but thankfully abated back to its previous state soon enough. “It’s weaker, but still there,” he confirmed. “I can try to strengthen it, but...”
“But it will knock you on your arse and make you utterly useless,” Arthur guessed.
“From the sound of it, whoever is out there has already figured out we are nearby,” Morgana told them. “Even if Merlin tried to reinforce what he’s done, if they find us and attack it and he’s unable to strengthen it further, we’re as good as caught as there is no other exit to this cavern.”
“Then we run again,” Arthur replied with a shrug that was just a bit too forced.
Merlin groaned. He had known to expect it, but that did not mean he was looking forward to it any more with the knowledge.
“Will they see anything if you lower whatever you made?” Gwen asked. She turned to Arthur and explained, “When it went up, there was an odd glow about it.”
“Brilliant,” Arthur sighed. “So taking it down might tell them where we are even faster than simply staying here?”
Merlin shook his head, and then regretted the action as he nearly toppled over once more. “It’s one way. We can get out, but they cannot get in. Well, unless or until it falls on its own, but...”
Arthur cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Right, so we can escape and they can’t see us and we’re leaving now.” That was apparently that as Merlin found a hand on his arm once more as he was pulled along with the others.
They skirted along the edge of the rocky outcropping, and darted into the trees as soon as the cover was thick enough to hide them. It became obvious fairly quickly that Merlin’s dizziness was affecting his gait, even as it was equally apparent that Morgana and Arthur were still not as proficient with their sight as both led the others to believe. There was much stumbling and quiet cursing and more than one palm skinned on sharp rocks or rough bark before they finally decided it was time to rest once more.
“Do you think we’re far enough away to be safe?” Merlin asked hopefully.
“No,” Arthur and Morgana replied in unison while Gwen regretfully shook her head.
“Then what do we do?” he asked. He was bone weary and his body longed for more than a brief respite. He knew he was probably starving but, thankfully, the lingering nausea helped keep that at bay.
“We keep going,” Morgana told him. She had torn off a piece of her already tattered gown and braided her hair sometime during the night, but a few long strands had fallen forward and she swiped at them in annoyance.
Merlin was about to ask where, but Arthur had apparently gained Morgana’s gift of insight as he suddenly stood and cocked his head to the side, a hint of a smile across his face. “We go this way,” he said, pointing in what Merlin thought might be a northerly direction.
“Why?” he asked. He thought he was being reasonable, but received a huff of irritation for his efforts.
“I hear water, which means a stream or possibly a river,” Arthur answered. “I don’t know about you, but I’m parched. We can follow it to the nearest village and get our bearings. If we’re lucky, they will be one of our own. If not, we skirt it and head home.”
Merlin wisely kept his mouth shut about their luck so far in this little adventure, and thought instead whether or not it would count as stealing if the prince and the king’s ward took food from any of the fields or residents of whatever they found. The way Morgana’s stomach grumbled, he guessed she would not be adverse to such an action. Then again, she was raised to be all courtly and maybe it would go against her upbringing.
He realized that perhaps his mind was wandering and his focus was a bit off when Gwen waved a hand in front of him and helped him get to his feet once more. As they headed off towards Arthur’s supposed water source, he resolved to keep his eyes open for fruit or berries of some sort to prevent any accusations of larceny in the near future. When he tripped and caught himself on a fortunately placed branch, he amended that resolution to keep his eyes on following the others and finding a food source if he happened to stumble across it instead.
To his surprise, there really was a stream not too far ahead. To his greater surprise, no one was laying in wait to ambush them at it. His first mouthful of water was pure an utter bliss, right up to the point it connected with his empty stomach and nearly came back up again.
“Try anyway,” Gwen urged him. She took another handful to her lips and sipped carefully. Instead of being self-conscious about the bit that trickled down her chin, she simply grabbed more and splashed it across her face, removing the worst of the grime. She did the same for her arms, then sat back and looked at Merlin expectantly.
With a sigh, he attempted to copy her actions, nearly toppling into the water when the shock of cold hit his temple. “Ow,” he winced.
She shook her head at him and gave him a look he was used to seeing associated with Gaius. In swift movements, she had his scarf removed from his neck and soaking in the water. She did not bother to ring it out completely, instead using it to mop at the side of his face.
He flinched at first, and not just from the pull of stickiness against his skin. When she dipped it in again to rinse the worst off, and pressed the sopping mess directly over his wound, he sighed in relief. The soft coolness felt wonderful and he swore the pressure receded nearly immediately, making it tolerable, if not completely departed.
“Thank you,” he told her, hoping his appreciation came through with the words.
“It’s not much, but it should help,” she smiled. “Gaius would know more, but it should do for now.” She helped him to his feet and less than subtly guided him over to where the others were waiting.
“Where to now?” he asked. He kept the cloth pressed to his head, not wanting to give up its relief quite yet.
Morgana had her eyes narrowed in a way he could not quite tell was for thought or clarity of sight as she answered, “Down river seems to wind back to where we came from. I fear we would be walking right into those looking for us if we travel that way.”
“Up river it is,” Arthur said, voicing Merlin’s own thoughts. He clapped his hands together, sending little droplets of water spraying in all directions. “Let’s get going then. If we stay near the trees we’ll have some cover, but can still be close enough to the water to stay on course.”
Plan decided, they began the next leg of their journey. Merlin swore he felt three sets of eyes upon him at any given moment, but whenever he’d try to catch them at it, each and every one would look away. It made him more than a bit concerned, to say the least. Around the fourth time it happened, he turned to Arthur and said, “Look, I...”
“How’s the head?” Arthur cut him off instead. “I obviously can’t tell myself, but both Gwen and Morgana assure me you look horrible.”
Merlin smiled despite himself as he stepped carefully over a root instead of tripping over it like he had the last one. “Still hurts,” he admitted. Determined not to be put off track, he continued, “About the magic, I...”
Arthur once again cut him off. “I am eternally grateful you were able to use it to our advantage and get all of us out of there with minimal injury,” he said, and surprisingly sounded like he meant it. “As to my promise, I fully intend to keep it. I will not tell my father anything about it and will do my best to protect you the way you have quite obviously protected us throughout all of this.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, not sure what else to say. Morgana and Gwen were offering their own assurances once more and he was torn between elation at their knowledge and support, and fear for the consequences of their newfound knowledge should they ever be discovered. When it was just him at risk, he thought he could live with that; adding the others toppled the balance and reinforced just how careful he would need to be, for their sake if not his own.
“Now,” Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder he had been using to guide himself with. “As to the whole keeping this from me for so long, that is something to be discussed when you are well enough to get drunk again.”
“Yes, sire,” Merlin intoned. He knew Arthur well enough by now to know that was a promise all its own, and could possibly be conceived as a threat in its own right. He also knew he more than likely had a grin split across his face, but that was something he truly did not mind at this point.
They had not walked much further when Gwen stopped them, a frown across her features as she gazed across the water.
“What is it?” Morgana asked. She had her blade at her side and looked to be trying to see for herself.
“I thought I saw movement across the stream,” she replied. She crouched low and motioned for the others to do the same. Crawling forward and using a scraggly looking bush for cover, she motioned to nearly directly across from them. “There,” she whispered. “Between the two largest oaks.”
Merlin saw it, the glint of sunlight upon metal. He ran through several curses in his head, some actual spells but most simply profanity. “Do you think they saw us?”
Gwen shook her head. “Not yet. Stay low.”
He watched as the glint resolved into definite armour, listened as the sound of hoof beats grew nearer. They were still across the stream, but the water was far from raging and it would be a simple enough matter to cross, especially with the aid of horses.
The first rider broke through the trees and was quickly followed by many more. Far more men than Merlin had thought he had seen at the camp fanned out, bringing their horses to the shore in groups of ten or more. He blinked as something seemed incredibly familiar about them, looking to Gwen as he asked, “Is that...?”
She nodded, mouth open in surprise. “I think it is,” she confirmed.
“Well, don’t keep us in the dark, what do you see?” Arthur demanded.
He really had not needed to as a clearly recognizable voice carried across the water, “Water the horses quickly, we still have a lot of ground to cover.”
Arthur nearly hit his head on a low branch as he rushed to stand up. “Is that my father?” he asked in disbelief.
“I really think it is,” Merlin confirmed. He stood to join him, not surprised when they were spotted before they had a chance to call across to the knights of Camelot.
“Halt!” one of the men called, and Merlin could sense as much as see the number of weapons pointed in their direction.
“Leon, is that you?” Arthur shouted back. He held his sword in the air, but refused to drop it just yet.
There was the shifting of weaponry and armour as some was lowered in shock while others were raised in doubt. Uther himself rode out several paces into the water, four knights quickly moving to flank him. “Arthur?” he asked in disbelief.
“It is my father, correct?” Arthur whispered to Merlin out of the corner of his mouth. At his nod of confirmation, he called back, “It’s me, father.”
Uther crossed the stream without hesitation, a near phalanx of knights following in his wake. He had already dismounted by the time Merlin had led Arthur to the shore, pausing only when he saw the state of his son and his servant. “Are you injured?”
“My sight was taken from me, but it is returning,” Arthur assured him. The fact he was looking more at Uther’s horse than the king himself spoke volumes and Uther was not fool enough to fall for the false confidence if the expression on his face was anything to go by.
Merlin stepped back and let Uther embrace his son, watched as the king became a father, buried his face in Arthur’s hair and breathed, “I thought I lost you.” He pulled back slightly and looked into eyes that did not quite meet his gaze. “Where are Morgana and Guinevere?”
“Here,” Morgana called from the treeline. She let Gwen guide her down and reluctantly let go only when Uther wrapped an arm around her as well.
“You’re safe,” the king said in something remarkably like a sigh. “You survived and you are safe.”
Merlin hated to break up the family moment, but felt the need to point out, “We’re not so certain about the safety part. There’s a good chance we are still being followed.”
Sir Leon dismounted and strode over to Merlin. He offered a hint of a wince in sympathy upon seeing his wound before asking, “How many men and where?”
“I’m honestly not certain,” he apologized. “I’m not sure how many were in the camp, let alone how many survived to follow us.”
“Survived?” Leon asked with a raised eyebrow.
Gwen stepped up to fill him in. “We took out four or five directly, but the camp itself was...”
“Torched,” Morgana supplied. “The explosive they used against us was used against them. You should find the ashes and any survivors if you follow our trail back to them.”
When Merlin turned to look at her, he saw a sight he never thought he would see: Uther smiling. “Even blinded, you freed yourself and took down a camp of kidnappers and brigands,” he said proudly, patting Arthur on the shoulder.
“We would not have escaped, let alone survived if it had not been for Merlin and Guinevere,” Arthur quickly provided. “They were invaluable. Even when Morgana and I were blinded, even when injured, they managed to get us to safety and help fend off further attack.”
Uther looked doubtful, but took his son’s word for it. “And their loyalty and service shall be rewarded appropriately,” he promised. He embraced his son once more before the mask of king fell into place once more. A flick of his wrist and Leon and several other knights surrounded him, taking orders to seek out and destroy the camp itself and interrogate and dispose of any kidnappers they discovered along the way.
Arthur pulled Leon to the side briefly before he left and Merlin swore he overheard the words “Morgana,” “Gwen,” and “virtue” whispered between them. By the way Leon’s eyes darkened, not to mention the way he swore to have it seen to, Merlin was fairly certain the camp leader would not survive for interrogation. Still, anything had to be better than Morgana’s suggestions of castration, which had increased in detail during their escape.
Arthur returned to Merlin’s side and was quickly joined by Morgana and Gwen. He reached out and placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder once more, but it was light enough that Merlin was fairly certain it was no longer to guide him. “I intend to keep my promise,” he told Merlin’s right eyebrow. With a grin he added, “Including the part about the wine.”
Merlin smiled despite himself, never doubting a word. His head ached, his vision was blurry, and he was starving, but all in all it was turning out to be a rather excellent day.
That was, of course, when Sir Gwaine approached to ask if they were able to ride.
Arthur replied for them all, surprising them with his honesty. “I will be unable to guide a horse on my own and Merlin has quite the head wound and may need assistance. The Lady Morgana’s sight is returning, but she may need a lead as well. Guinevere is the luckiest of our lot and, aside from exhaustion, should be able to handle a mount.”
Merlin blinked as Gwaine disappeared and Arthur’s words sank in. He was kicking four knights from their rides, two of which to provide for servants. Merlin would have protested, but given he was not certain how much longer he would be able to stand on his own, simply thought about how having a prince on your side did provide for some benefits.
Gwaine himself helped Merlin mount and even offered him trail rations from his own bag. Merlin hesitated, but relented at the glare he was given for his efforts. The food was bland, dry, and delicious, and even had the added bonus of seeming to stay down.
He watched as Arthur mounted Leon’s horse and allowed himself to be tethered to his father only after he was assured Merlin was tethered to someone he personally approved of as well. Morgana insisted on being tied to Gwen, though Merlin did not miss the way several of Uther’s most trusted men closed in around the two women, and more circled the group as a whole.
When Arthur called out, “Let’s go home,” it was all he could do to smile, nod, and hope he stayed on the horse long enough not to embarrass himself in front of the king and the royal guard.
The ride to Camelot was far more arduous than he thought it had any right to be. The pounding in his head that had slightly abated with the food returned with even greater force, matched in time to the hoof beats below him. By the time they reached the main gates, the black spots swam before him once more and even the dry rations threatened to revolt.
Gaius was waiting, no doubt alerted by a rider Uther had sent ahead and Merlin had completely missed. Arthur was helped down from his horse and pushed towards the healer while Merlin contemplated how to get down without falling.
He was surprised to feel a gentle tug on his pants leg, and looked down to find Gwen and Morgana watching him expectantly. He readied himself to slide from his saddle, and expected to fall and make a sight of himself. Instead, he found hands upon him and two of Arthur’s knights lowering him to the ground, holding him steady until he could get his feet under him.
“Are you all right?” Brisen asked sceptically.
Merlin nodded and had to place a hand on the saddle to steady himself as he insisted, “I’ll be fine.”
Morgana strode forward and shook her head. “No, he will not. Help him to Gaius’ chambers,” she ordered. Despite her words, she took one arm for herself and let Gwen take the other as they led him towards the castle steps. The clatter of boots and armour behind him let him know that Brisen was still there on the off chance he escaped his captors or, possibly, fell even with their support.
Merlin was proud to have made it all the way up the staircase with minimal assistance when he saw Arthur and Gaius waiting for him. The healer approached him with a look of pity, reaching towards his head with a sighed, “Oh, Merlin.”
Merlin had a reply on his lips, something along the lines of him not being as bad off as he looked and really there was no need to worry and also everyone was simply over-reacting, that was all. Gaius’ fingers brushed his wound though and he flinched away just a bit too fast, sending his head spinning in one direction and his body reeling in the other and he barely had time to wonder which would hit him first, the darkness or the floor. As it turned out, the darkness won.
~~~~~~~~~~
He awoke to the feeling of being laid out on his back and the realization that he really needed to stop waking up in places other than where he fell asleep. Given how much the light had hurt his head on the journey home, he was reluctant to open his eyes again, but felt compelled to when he heard voices arguing beside him.
“Do sit down, sire,” Gaius requested with a lack of patience usually reserved for Merlin himself.
“He is waking up,” Arthur argued back. “Trust me, after laying in a cave with him overnight, I can hear the difference between his sleeping and his faking and Merlin, do open your eyes and prove me right.”
Merlin blinked them open to glower at him for the request and heard Gaius protest, “That’s the problem though, sire. You are hearing and not seeing, something that I am attempting to remedy and something that would be much easier if you would simply sit down.” Gaius turned in his ranting to spare a glance in Merlin’s direction and huff, “Do try to rest, boy. There’s no need to encourage him.”
“Ha! I was right!” Arthur crowed. Quieter, when he must have seen or sensed the way Merlin flinched at the sound, he added, “Very dramatic faint by the way. You were caught by a girl and everything.”
Merlin ignored the jibe, and the urge to roll his eyes, knowing only pain awaited him down that course. “Good to see you are feeling better, sire,” he groaned. Then, in a spat of retribution, added to Gaius, “I’m sure he told you about the injury to his knee as well as his eyes. I hope you were able to treat it to prevent the prince from having a permanent limp. It would be awful for the land to sing the praises of a gimp of a prince.”
Arthur scowled at him for the tattle, though Gaius offered a quirk of his lips at the game well-played. The tinkle of laughter told him that there was at least one other witness to the spat, though he was willing to place bets there were probably two as he doubted Gwen would leave Morgana’s side for long.
The healer moved a candle closer to where he lay to get a better look at him, and Merlin realized that the sun had already set during his leave with consciousness. He also realized he had been changed into a nightshirt and his wrists were neatly bandaged and wouldn’t he like to know just who was present when that happened? “How are you feeling, Merlin?” Gaius asked with near fatherly concern.
“Like I’ve been beaten about the head,” he replied with a grimace. His temple felt sticky and warm and the skin pulled in new and interesting ways with the simplest of actions. He reached a hand towards the injured area, only to find it swatted away.
“None of that,” Gaius chided. He adjusted something and the pull changed, though did not seem to lessen. “You’ve got stitches to hold it close until it heals and a poultice to fight of any infection you may have caught running around in the woods with your head split open for all to see.”
Merlin’s eyes grew wide. “Please say you did not cut my hair for this,” he pleaded. His hand started to move upwards again, only to be removed with even greater force this time.
“I’m sorely tempted to just to spite you,” Gaius grumbled. “What were you thinking? Running around, sleeping in caves? They say you even fought some of the kidnappers, and with a head wound... I should shave you bald for that,” he tsked.
“We couldn’t stay there!” he protested, the sound of his own voice ratcheting up the pounding in his skull another notch. He tried to focus on Gaius and not the blinding light of the candle. Thankfully, his mentor noticed his predicament and tucked the offending object slightly more out of view. “There is no way I would leave any of them to that lot, not even Arthur had he been whole and well.”
There was the sound of soft shoes on stone and Morgana appeared at the healer’s side. Her hair hung in damp curls about her face and she had changed into clean gown, further indication of just how long he had been out. She placed a hand on Gaius’ wrist and offered, “He saved us Gaius, in more ways than one.”
An equally scrubbed Gwen stood next to a rather silent and clean Arthur and added, “The men... their intentions for us were less than pure and...”
“And he did what I could not,” Arthur admitted in a near whisper, arms folded across his chest. This time when he did not meet anyone’s gaze it was far more intentional and had very little to do with his injury. He shrugged away from Gwen’s sympathy and added with far more of his usual bluster, “Of course then I did what he could not, namely taking on a band of brigands while blinded.”
“You took on three, maybe four,” Merlin protested, allowing him his out as well as allowing for the greater number only because his back had been turned whilst he set the camp alight. “And even then Gwen was at your side helping. She and Morgana alone...”
“Yes, yes, no need to thank me or tell boring tales,” Arthur cut him off. There was a gleam to his unfocused eyes though, that told Merlin he knew the true score of the events.
“But there is a need for him to get his rest and you lot to get your treatments,” Gaius cut in. He tried to shoo them away, and huffed in resignation when all he managed to do was to have the three take seats around the room.
The healer started with Morgana, who was doing remarkably well, all things considered. Her vision had returned to nearly normal, though still a bit hazy around the edges per her reports. He carefully washed around each eye and cleansed and bandaged the damage the rope had done to her wrists as well as several other incidental scratches that were as likely from their escape as from their original capture.
Merlin propped himself up on the rather uncomfortable cot he had been laid out on as he felt silly just laying there and truly was not that tired or, at the very least, was far from ready to sleep just yet. Perhaps his time unconscious had served as that “healing rest” Gaius was always on about, or perhaps he was still on edge from everything that had happened. The room swam around him a bit with the movement, and the pain surged, but thankfully receded back to the dull pounding ache relatively quickly.
His thoughts of sneaking off to his own bed in his own room faded with the pain and the realization he would probably trip over his own feet and make more of a mess of things along the way. Besides, it was kind of nice to simply be there, with the others, with no life-endangering peril circling about. The fact he had no idea whether or not he was wearing pants beneath the blankets played absolutely no role in this decision whatsoever.
Gwen disappeared for a moment, but reappeared with the pillow from his room. She added it to the one already on the cot and he obediently settled back against them at the look she gave him. Far more comfortable and still able to see what was going on around him, he stopped her from returning to the chair on the other side of the room to ask, “How are you doing? I mean, after everything. We never really stopped to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. Now it was his turn to level her with a look. She relented with an embarrassed twist of her lips and answered, “Tired, really. A bit hungry too. Overall though? Just happy to be home.”
She was fidgeting with the skirt of her new dress and he noticed both the rope burn and other scratches on her wrists and running up her arms to disappear under her sleeves. He took one of her hands into his bandaged own, stilling the movement. The façade fell and she looked near tears for a moment before blinking them away. “We’re home,” he told her, squeezing her hand to help it sink in. “We’re not there and we’re safe. You’re safe, okay?”
She nodded with a sniff and used the back of her free hand to swipe at her eyes. “Still think I’ll be sleeping with a candle for a while though,” she admitted.
“Candle?” Morgana scoffed. “I’ll be sleeping with a blade.”
“That too,” Gwen conceded, the hint of a smile returning.
“And we’ll all be sleeping in the castle for the time being,” Arthur cut in. He turned roughly to Gwen’s direction and added somewhat sympathetically, “I know you have your father’s place, but I do think it would be safest for all if you stayed here, at least until we are certain the men have been apprehended. We can send a man for whatever you need, even station one to look after the place if you prefer, but those men saw you, saw what you looked like and know who you are. Not to mention that Morgana’s going to need extra help until her sight properly returns. I won’t order it, but I would strongly suggest you consider it.”
Gwen nodded, but must have realized Arthur may have missed it. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Morgana herself. “We already discussed this. Gwen will stay with me. Just knowing that neither one of us will be alone will allow me to sleep better at night.”
Gwen looked rather relieved with the declaration, though Merlin noticed she had not objected to Arthur’s little speech either. He did not blame her; he felt rather shaken by everything himself and he had not needed to deal with any of the threats against his person in the manner she did. He had a suspicious feeling that Gwen would not be the only one sleeping with a candle tonight, and tried to remember the spell that made certain he did not burn down his room in his sleep.
Arthur clapped his hands suddenly, both startling Merlin and making him wince from the sound. “Right, with that settled, I believe Guinevere mentioned something about food? I’m famished.” He stood and managed to both nearly knock over the chair he had been sitting in and topple several glass vials scattered along the nearby tabletop. A whispered word from Merlin steadied the glass and earned a sharp look from Gaius, who then looked around nervously to make sure no one else saw.
They had, of course, with the possible exception of Arthur himself, and Merlin knew it. He also knew they were all pointedly ignoring the action, Gwen to the point of joining Morgana with their backs determinedly facing the still shifting bottles as they talked nonsense about some flower or another drying in bunches from the ceiling. None of them, however, could ignore the way Arthur lumbered towards the door with a stiff gait and noticeable limp.
“And where do you think you are going?” Gaius challenged.
“You will break your neck on the staircase before you reach the kitchens,” Morgana helpfully advised. She joined him at the bookcase he was trying to open, even though it had no doors, and directed him towards the actual entrance to the room.
“I don’t plan on going that far,” Arthur scoffed. “You know my father will have guards stationed everywhere we go for a fortnight, if not more. One of them can be useful and get us something to eat,” he pointed out.
Morgana simply shrugged, not willing to fight him on this issue. Arthur opened the door and, sure enough, three of the king’s guards were waiting in the hallway. “To your left,” she heaved a put upon sigh when he started to address a tapestry instead of the men.
Gaius used the distraction to return to Merlin’s side. “Magic in front of the prince? Are you mad?” he hissed.
“He can’t see me anyway,” Merlin whispered back in his defence. “Besides, I know how long that blue stuff takes to brew, I wasn’t about to let him smear it all over the floor in his blundering.”
Gaius sighed, something he did quite often when Merlin, magic, or the prince was concerned. “And the others?” he asked, though he seemed far less concerned about Gwen or Morgana turning him in to the king. Merlin had the grace to look sheepish, which seemed to do the trick and make Gaius back down. “I’m letting this go as the effects of your wound,” he muttered. “Please don’t give me reason to make my heart hurt in such a manner again?”
Merlin smiled in apology and offered, “If it’s any grace, I think my head might hurt more than your heart right about now.”
“There’s a solution to that,” Gaius deadpanned. “Don’t do stupid things.”
Arthur had chosen that moment to return, helped towards his chair by the combined forces of Gwen and Morgana. “Merlin do something stupid? Surely you jest,” he mocked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sympathetic to my plight?” Merlin complained good-naturedly.
Arthur pretended to ponder than for a moment before he shrugged, “Being that I cannot actually see your plight right now? Probably not.” With a raise of his eyebrows, he added, “If it is any consolation, both Morgana and Gwen assure me you still look truly awful. I’ll have to wait for my sight to return to determine if they mean your injury or your permanent state.”
This time, Merlin gave in to the urge to roll his eyes, though he quickly wished he had not. The pain flared something awful and his vision whitened at the edges. He bit his lip to stop himself from making any embarrassing sounds and pressed his head back into the pillows as he pinched his eyes closed tightly.
When he opened them again, Gaius hovered above him making tsking sounds again. He blinked and a cup was held to his lips, steaming with something he knew would most likely taste awful. He dutifully sipped, and even managed not to gag as the concoction slid its way down his gullet.
“Was that for the pain, or revenge?” he asked when he was able.
“A bit of both,” Gaius replied with a forced smile. He wandered away with the cup and called over his shoulder, “It should dull the worst of it and help the healing process.”
Merlin nodded tightly and closed his eyes once more. He listened to the sounds of Gaius treating Arthur and Gwen, feeling a warmth spread from his chest to the very tips of his fingers and toes and aches he barely knew he had slowly disappeared.
A hand slipped into his own and squeezed lightly, offering him silent support. He opened one eye just enough to see the green of Morgana’s dress and the hint of dark curls. The lilt of her voice mixed in with the others, though they all seemed softer somehow, hushed against the gentle sounds of the rest of the room.
He felt himself begin to drift, catching only snippets instead of whole conversations, feeling the blankets warm and snug around him. Gaius’ brew worked its own sort of magic, and he was on the cusp of sleep when possibly the only thing that could drew him out of it: the scent of dinner arriving.
He felt odd as Gwen and Gaius directed where to put the food whilst he simply lay there and watched. His one attempt to sit up to help was met with a less than gentle push to his shoulder and a firm command to stay put. He was beginning to wonder how he was expected to eat half laying down, but Gaius enlisted the aid of one of the knights to help him to his feet and bring him to the table to join the others. It was at this time he discovered that yes, he was wearing pants, and that it was far chillier away from the bed. A blanket was tucked around him and another wrapped about his shoulders and he really would have complained about being treated like the infirm, but it was rather nice to be looked after and fussed over for a change.
His eyes widened when he saw just how much food was on offer. Plates of meats and cheeses and breads filled the table along with flagons of wine and mead. Gaius pointedly poured him tea, letting him know what was off limits with his injury, but he still could not stop staring at everything. It was more than just the prince’s favourites as well; the little cakes Morgana preferred were there, as well as a savoury stew he remembered mentioning to the cooks as one of the best he ever had.
“All of this?” he asked breathlessly. His hands twitched to grab at anything and everything as his stomach made its needs known, but politeness had been ingrained in him enough to force him to wait.
“This is nothing,” Arthur scoffed. “Wait until you see the feast you know father will host for us once we are up to it. I promise you won’t even have to serve at it,” he grinned. He reached for a plate and nearly toppled Morgana’s recently filled goblet. She slapped his hand away and filled his plate herself before moving on to her own.
Merlin had no idea where to begin, not used to such a wide range of offerings. Gwen solved that for him by filling a bowl with the stew he so loved and placing it before him. He took a hesitant bite, not certain if his recent bout of nausea was fully passed, but relaxed when it seemed Gaius’ mixture was doing its duty and keeping everything down as well.
Gaius himself had wandered off to advise the king of their status with a gentle reprimand to please not make too great of a mess of his rooms. It was just the four of them once more, pressed perhaps a bit too closely together, bumping and jostling each other while they ate, revelling in their nearness and simply being alive as much as the richness laid out before them.
When Merlin slowed, the warmth in his belly a match for the warmth of the rest of his body, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. Arthur leaned close, the faint hint of wine upon his breath a match for the droplets on his shirt after one misaligned sip near the beginning of the meal. “I intend to keep my promise, you know,” he confided, as if Merlin had forgotten his earlier declarations. Then again, that was in the midst of their escape and this was back in the castle after he had a chance to think clearly and calmly once more. Perhaps it had been entirely possible he had debated changing his mind.
“Which one? The one not to tell or the one to get me drunk and get everything out of me?” Merlin asked, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.
“Both,” Arthur swore with a serious nod. His face broke into a smile and he patted Merlin on the blanket-clad shoulder as he added, “Of course, with your tolerance for wine, it shouldn’t take much before you’re telling me exactly when you learned how to do that thing with the lock and all its various uses.”
Merlin shook his head and accepted one of the sweet cakes from Morgana and another mug of tea from Gwen. The relief that flowed through him was tangible, as was the sense of protection and something more he could not quite place his finger on just yet. He was safe. They knew, and yet he was still safe. They worked together, protected each other, and he had the odd feeling this would not be the last time they did so.
As Arthur offered a toast to their victory, he added a silent toast to his own. The conversation soon turned to just how heroic their tale should become, with Gwen and Morgana offering as many corrections as embellishments as the night wore on. Listening to friends, feeling warm and safe and whole, even if it was only in a nightshirt and a fair amount of blankets, Merlin knew for certain that he was home.
~~~~~~~~~~
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