Work Text:
Arthur groaned as Merlin helped him hide behind a clump of tall bushes that stood away from the main road. With a piece of his shirt Merlin patched up Arthur's wound. It was a musket one, so the ball had to still be inside, but Merlin couldn't hope to extract it unless he found a doctor, and he wouldn't here on a lonely north wending north.
Once Arthur was bandaged and had stopped bleeding, he said, “You must get to Calais and then to England.”
Merlin helped ease Arthur in a position that wouldn't give him as much pain. “I can't leave you alone and wounded.” He looked around. “With Cardinal Mordred's guards patrolling the area.”
Arthur grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. “That's exactly what you must do.”
Merlin bent over Arthur, fussing with the bandages. “No. I won't leave you and that's final.”
“Think of the mission, Merlin.” Arthur kneaded his arm. “Think of your duty.”
“You come before duty.” Merlin murmured it so low he doubted Arthur had heard him.
Arthur sighed. “Merlin, if you don't make it to England and get the diamond necklace from the Duke of Buckingham, then Queen Guinevere will be ruined.”
Merlin realised all that. The Queen was good and kind, upright and honourable, a true beacon among monarchs, and humble too, always a friend to her lowly maid, Sefa. Her only fault was being trapped in a loveless marriage and having sought solace elsewhere. It was just unlucky that Mordred, in his bid to get more power with the King, should have sought to destabilise her by making her affair known. “I have to stay with you."
“Merlin, if the Queen doesn't wear the necklace the King gave her at the next ball,” Arthur said through teeth gritted from the pain, “everyone will know she gave it away. And since it was a gift from the King, they'll see she could only have given it to her lover.”
Merlin understood just as much as the next person. He just didn't want to leave Arthur in these straits. “One for all and all for one, remember?”
Arthur nodded. “Think of Gwaine. Think of all he's done to make sure the Queen's safe.”
“He loves the Queen.” Merlin bit his lip. They all knew that, but nobody had voiced it ever. “It's obvious he'd make the sacrifice.”
“Even now he's fending Mordred's guards off, picking them off one by one, so we can make it to Calais,” Arthur said. “He's wounded too.”
Merlin knew and worried. They were a team and he couldn't bear to lose any of its members. “It's different. You're different.”
Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin's neck, pulling him lower. “I couldn't bear it if the Queen was exposed and Mordred won more power.”
“Because you love her.” Merlin cast his eyes down. “Like Gwaine does.”
Arthur grabbed Merlin by the face, pulled him down, and fit his lips around his. At first the kiss was hard, all lips and teeth, but then it softened, tongues touching at the tip, and mouths colliding in repeated touches. “No, idiot, I don't love the queen.”
Merlin thought his flush would burn his face off. “You don't love Guinevere?”
“No.” Arthur looked at Merlin as if he'd grown two heads. “I'm actually outraged you think I'd love her and do--” Arthur pinked up just as Merlin had, except his jaw set to counter all his reddening. “Do that to you.”
“You--” Merlin lowered his lashes. “Doing that doesn't change the fact I'm not moving from your side. Once the road has cleared of Mordred's guards, we're going to find a village and get you to a physician.”
“I can do that by myself, Merlin.” Arthur was wan and drawn, but he kicked his legs to show he could use them. “It's my shoulder that's out of order.” He shrugged with it and winced.
“What if you faint?” Merlin had been as quick as he could bandaging Arthur up, but he hadn't stitched the wound – there would be no point with the bullet still inside – and it could leak blood. “What if you're unconscious--” He shivered. “--And Mordred's guards find you?”
“I'm strong, I'm resourceful, I'm a soldier, Merlin,” Arthur answered. “I'm going to make it on my own. But the Queen is not.”
“I can't do it, Arthur.” Merlin shook his head.
Arthur took Merlin's hand and twined their fingers. “The Musketeers won't fail their Queen. Promise me, Merlin. Promise me.”
“I--” Merlin couldn't think with Arthur touching him so.
“Merlin, please,” Arthur said. “I couldn't live with it, if we hadn't done our duty. Please.”
“What...” Merlin's thoughts were clouding and he didn't know what was right anymore. Failing the Queen didn't bear thinking about. Seeing Mordred winning this hand was even worse because if he did, then he would have unbounded power in France. The King would trust his word only. The Musketeers, who were the King's elite corps, and much loved by the Queen, would suffer too, likely be disbanded. But with Arthur's life in the balance, Merlin didn't dare make a decision. He could live with no job, he could live in shame, but without Arthur, without sharing their adventures on the road and quarters in the barracks and their lives, day in day out, he couldn't make it. They'd been together since Merlin had first joined and the feelings Merlin had borne Arthur ever since, or ever since they'd stopped butting heads, were larger than Merlin's own life.
“Please, Merlin, for me.” Arthur made big, soulful eyes at him.
Merlin put food in a bundle, took half his ammunition and gave it Arthur, together with one of his pistols and his best knife. He shifted him – with much groaning on Arthur's part – to a safer place, deeper in the forest and away from the track. When the time to part with him came, he half embraced him, though Arthur was a little stiff with the demonstration of affection. However, when Arthur turned his face, the sides of their mouths brushed again, sending Merlin's heart hammering and reminding him of the kiss that had taken place before. “Bring the Queen's diamonds back,” Arthur told him, shoulders wide in a military pose. “And bring yourself back too, idiot.”
Merlin saluted as he would their captain, made a funny face, then mounted his horse. Before spurring it on, he thought of Arthur. Once he'd started at a gallop – towards Calais and the ship that would ferry him to England – he whispered. “For Arthur. I'll do it for Arthur.”