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5- Lancelot
Merlin hated hunting. It was one of his least favorite things to do, but, nonetheless, he was forced to go.
Being the king's manservant really had its downsides, and being the physicians apprentice as well made him all the more busy. Not to mention, when he wasn't doing that, he was stopping rouge sorcerers, or preventing assassins from killing Arthur, or stoping invasions, or other things that could get him killed. It's not like he chose this destiny, and, sometimes, he honestly wished to be rid of it.
His latest endeavor ended up with him getting a nasty knife wound on his side from a traitor in the castle. Hopefully no one would miss a new recruit. After all, he was one of the worst recruits there, and this is coming from Merlin. The poor fool didn't stand a chance.
He winced as his horse became a bit reckless with its steps, and slowed it's pace.
"You alright?" A whisper from his left sounded.
Merlin turned to see Lancelot riding next to him, looking concerned. "Yeah," he said, putting on a well-rehearsed smile. "I'm fine. Why?"
Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps it's because I hear you gasp every time your horse takes a misstep?" He answered. "That, and you're as pale as snow."
Merlin tried to maintain his facade, saying, "It's nothing. I've just bruised myself. You know how clumsy I am."
"Alright." Merlin thought he was in the clear, but the knight immediately followed it up with, "Then surely you wouldn't mind if I saw this bruise?"
Merlin huffed, finally letting the act break. "Fine. You win, cabbagehead."
Lancelot smiled. "You shouldn't try to keep things from me, Merlin." He said, glancing at the knights ahead before asking, "So, what happened?"
It was more of a demand than a question, but Merlin ignored that. "There was someone out for Arthur's head. I stopped them."
Lancelot raised his eyebrows, waiting for Merlin to continue.
"And, he managed to catch my side with his knife."
"What!"
The others turned around at this, sending questioning glances that made Merlin squirm. After a moment, they dismissed it as another odd scheme that involved Merlin, turning back around and following the animal tracks.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Lancelot whispered. "I could have helped you."
"Because I didn't want you to worry. Besides, it's had a few days to heal."
"Of course I would worry, you've gotten yourself stabbed."
"It's a slash at best Lancelot. You're making a big deal out of nothing.
"Of course I would. My friend has gotten himself hurt, and decided to go on a hunt, which always turns into something more, not even completely healed."
Merlin huffed, wearing a small smile. It was nice to have someone worry over him for a change. He usually had to grit his teeth and bear the pain, but Lancelot was the only one he really trusted his secrets to.
Merlin opened his mouth to retort, but was silenced by Arthur announcing, "It's getting dark. We should set up camp for the night."
Merlin held in a groan of displeasure. 'Setting up camp,' usually meant, 'work Merlin like a pack mule while we make ourselves comfortable.'
As the warlock dismounted his horse, he felt a tug on his wound that was quickly followed by a sharp pain. There was no doubt. What was left of the wound had reopened. He was just thankful that his magic healed him faster, letting his injury that spanned from his belly button to ribs diminish to a wound only four inches in length. The scar wound be there, but at least it would be healed.
He was just lucky he thought to bandage it before leaving this morning.
Merlin set up camp before starting a fire to get started on dinner. Unfortunately, the wound was damp.
He looked around. The knights were all distracted by something, as luck would have it.
Turning back around, he whispered, "Forbearnan," causing the wood to erupt into flames. After that, he started on dinner.
About a half hour later, the food was done. They ate together, teasing and laughing at one another, just like they always do. It was seeming like nothing was going to go wrong.
Merlin was just finishing his food, engaged in conversation with Lancelot, the knight made a move to set his bowl down, but froze, his eyes doing a double take to Merlin's stomach. Then Lancelot locked eyes with him, his gaze showing a hard concerned look. One that screamed that something was wrong.
Merlin's eyes shot down to see that he had bled through his shirt.
Merlin ate the last of his food before saying, "I'd better refill the waters skins."
He stood, grabbing a few before quitting the camp. Distantly, he heard, "It's dark. I'll go with him," before Lancelot came running to his side, Merlin's satchel over his shoulder.
When they were at the lake, out of sight from the knights, Lancelot all but forced Merlin to sit on a rock by the shore. "Lift your shirt." Lancelot ordered, dumping the contents of the bag onto the rock beside Merlin.
Merlin obeyed, but had to have help removing the clothing. His bandages and scars were visible for Lancelot to see in the moonlight, and oh, there were more than the knight could comprehend.
"Uh," Lancelot looked at the vials and poultices, having absolutely no idea what he was doing. Merlin was thankful that Lancelot was the knight instead of the physician.
"Peel the bandages off carefully first. Pulling it off too harshly could open my injury further."
Lancelot did as he was told, tossing the soiled bandages onto the ground.
"Alright," Merlin reached over and handed a small vial of a light green contents to his friend. "Smear this on the wound."
When Lancelot did, Merlin hissed in pain, making his hands shoot back as if he had been burned. "No, keep going. It just stings a bit, that's all."
With hesitant hands the paste had been placed upon the wound. Be it a bit sloppy, but it would do. It was the best Lancelot could manage.
"Alright, all that's left is to bandage it. Remember, it needs to be tight to apply pressure, but not tight enough to stop circulation," Merlin said, handing him the bandages. "Make it snug."
Lancelot did, needing a few tries to make it good enough.
Merlin thanked him, standing up to go and refill the water skins, but wasn't able to when Lancelot pushed him back down. "Let me," was all he said.
It was something about his tone what was indescribable. The softness. The worry in it. Something made Merlin stupefied.
Nodding, he handed Lancelot the water skins, and set to putting the vials back into his bag. Merlin tugged his tunic back on, putting on his jacket after.
He turned to Lancelot, who had just finished filling the water, and then started to make his way back to camp. Before he could get ten steps, he was stopped by the weight of a hand on his shoulder.
"Merlin," Lancelot said, looking his friend in the eyes. "No more scars, okay?"
It was that tone again, the one Merlin didn't know what to do with. It was one he only ever heard from his mother or Gaius, and that was on rare occasion.
"I-I'll try."
They both knew that it was inevitable, but the words were comforting at least.
4- Leon
Leon wasn't the closest to Merlin, but that was alright. They respected each other, and joked around from time to time. That was a given, as Merlin just had that sort of magnetic personality.
But today, Leon saw that something was wrong. Merlin looked half dead when he was doing his normal chores. He was slower, clumsier than normal. He didn't retort with the fire he always did either.
Leon went to the armory that evening, he didn't know why, he just felt the need to check the weapons over. Though, as he stepped through the door, he almost tripped over something.
There was a lump on the floor. A body.
Leon immediately crouching to the floor, turning the body over to see that it was Merlin. In a rush of panic, he felt for a pulse. The pulse was strong. Merlin was breathing normally.
Merlin was sleeping.
Leon was about to wake him up, but paused at the dark circles that surrounded the servants eyes even in sleep. He almost looked dead. He must have collapsed from exhaustion.
Leon pursed his lips, trying to decide what to do. He didn't want to wake Merlin, as the servant would just collapse again, but he couldn't leave him on the armory floor.
Leon settled down, lifting Merlin off the ground. As he walked trough the halls, he got the stares of everyone he passed, as a knight carrying a mere servant was scandalous at best. But Merlin wasn't just a servant. Merlin was the bravest man he knew. He ran into battle with no armor, and fought along side trained warriors with no weapons.
Leon strode faster, bursting into Gaius' chambers with fervor. The physician startled, but that was nothing compared to the surprise when he saw Merlin unconscious in his arms.
"What happened?" He asked, leading Leon to a cot.
After setting Merlin down, he answered, "I don't know. I found him on the armory floor just a few minutes ago." He looked Gaius in the eyes. "He looked half dead all day."
Gaius hummed, looking his apprentice over. There was a father and son bond between them, and all Leon could do was give them sympathy.
"He's not sick or wounded. It appears he collapsed from exhaustion." Gaius said, looking relieved. "All he needs is rest."
Leon hummed, asking, "How can that be? He did the same thing he does every day. What changed?"
Gaius raised his eyebrow, an act that the knight would never admit intimidated him. "Merlin does much more than you think." He said, catching Leon by surprise. "You forget he is also my apprentice. That, and he always puts others before him."
Gaius turned, running his hand through the young man's hair. "It's a wonder that this hadn't happened sooner."
The next day, Merlin was back to his duties, but he was still a little slow. As they passed each other in the halls, Leon called the servants name.
"What do you need?" Merlin asked, his voice giving away how tired he was.
There was a pause, before Leon uttered the response, "Take better care of yourself." Then the knight walked away, leaving Merlin in a stupor.
3- Percival
Merlin always thought that Percival was a strange man. He was big and strong, looking like he could crush a bolder in his bare hands, but was gentle in personality, and kind in nature. A lamb everywhere else, but a lion on the battlefield.
Merlin sighed as he polished the knights swords. They were training, and Merlin counted himself lucky that today wasn't the day they practiced archery.
He just wasn't up for anything of that nature today. He woke up in a bad mood, unfortunate events plagued him throughout the day, and Arthur was acting like a major prat.
Merlin finally finished polishing the swords, deciding to spend his short-lived break reading today. There were a few spells that he felt could come in handy while out on another hunting trip, and he wanted to give them a try.
But, Merlin was extremely clumsy. As he made his way to his chambers, he managed to sneeze while halfway down a flight of stairs, causing him to trip and tumble the rest of the way.
He landed with a dull thump on the floor, the wind knocked out of him. He gasped for breath, uncovering his head and rolling on his back.
During his way down, he managed to hit his left leg really hard. He felt nauseous just thinking about the crack that sounded from it. Merlin was lucky if it wasn't broken, but it would be badly sprained at best.
He sat up, ignoring the pain in his side to examine the damage.
He dry heaved on the sight of it.
His ankle was twisted at an impossible angle, and it was already starting to swell. He lifted his pant leg high enough to see that it was already starting to bruise, blacks and blues and purples that made him unable to look any longer. There was blood seeping through his sock, signaling that he must have broken skin on his way down.
Everything else would only be bruises and cuts, but this would be something he can't hide. Arthur would find out, and interrogate him as to what happened. His friend had always thought him frail and weak, and would always get overprotective.
Merlin laid back at the foot of the stairs, covering his face with his hands as the pain finally hit. It was gut wrenching, and brought tears to his eyes.
Every choked breath hurt his bruised side, but that was nothing compared to the hot pain that had started to permeate throughout most of his leg.
"Merlin?"
The servant looked up to see Percival rushing down the stairs, crouching by his side. The man looked shocked and confused. He didn't know what to do.
"What happened?" He asked, his arms jerking as if he wanted to touch Merlin, but thought that he would hurt the servant. "Who did this to you?"
Merlin shook his head. "No one, I just tripped down the stairs."
Percival growled, glaring at the servant. "Are you lying to me?"
"Honest, I just tripped," Merlin said, wiping tears from his eyes. "I promise, I only tripped."
After a moment, the knight nodded. "What should I do?" He asked, his fists clenched in frustration. Merlin saw that Percival had dug his nails into his own palms so hard that he started bleeding.
"Firstly, you need to calm down." Merlin instructed, trying his best to tone down his own hiccuping breaths. "Now, carefully help me to Gaius. He can help me."
Percival nodded, talking the instructions in a way that Merlin hadn't intended. The warlock had wanted for the knight to just help him limp along, but that thought was cast aside when he found himself being carried like a damsel.
"Percival!" Merlin cried in surprise, clutching onto the knights cloak so he wouldn't fall. He knew that the man wouldn't drop him, but he wasn't used to being carried.
"Shut up."
Merlin hid his face from the stares of everyone they passed, embarrassed beyond belief. He managed to not only trip down the stairs, but also break his ankle. Plus, the icing atop the cake, he was being carried all the way across the castle as if he were some girl.
Man, he'd never hear the end of it from Arthur.
After what felt like an eternity, they had arrived. Percival literally kicked open the door, and ran him to a cot, nearly giving Gaius a heart attack. Of course, Gaius gave him the third degree as well, Percival insisting that, 'if someone really did do this to him, that he should tell the knight, and that the knight would throw whoever did this in the dungeons to rot.'
It was annoying, but endearing. Yes, the questions got old, but it told Merlin that they worried for him. There would be no worry if there wasn't at least some sentimentality there.
Percival stayed as Gaius reset Merlin's ankle, and stopped him from pushing the old man away because of all the pain. Though, he was sure that Percival's fingers would leave bruises on Merlin's arms.
At the end of it all, the two were just finishing up dinner Gaius made.
"Merlin," Percival said, setting his bowl aside. It was that tone of voice that made Merlin freeze. The tone he didn't know how to describe. The tone he'd only heard from his mother, Gaius, Lancelot, and Leon. The one that was soft, warm, and.... sad?
No, that couldn't be right.
"You need to be more careful." Percival looked Merlin in the eyes, making the servants breath stop. "You scared me."
Merlin couldn't trust himself to speak back, so all he could do was nod. He watched as Percival left his chambers, going who knows where.
2- Elyan
They were out on what felt like a wild goose chase. The tale about a sorceress living out in these woods, abducting whoever she liked and doing who knows what seeming like nothing more than a fairy tale. Why would they trust a child anyways?
The child's father went out hunting, and hasn't returned the day he was supposed to. It was probably taking a while longer than the man thought, but, never the less, Arthur promised the boy that they would go look just to get him to stop crying.
They had been out a week, and were about to give up and make their way back to Camelot when a sudden storm broke out, delaying any plans to move on.
They pitched tent, tucking in for the night. The woods felt a little weird, but everywhere they went was crawling with danger. One more night of it wouldn't do anything.
Elyan was the first watch, but halfway through his shift he had started nodding off. He was exhausted, who could blame him? He has been running in all directions to find this supposed sorceress.
When he finally deemed that he would be able to keep his eyes open any longer, he woke up Leon in order for him to complete his watch.
Elyan started to make his way to his bed roll, but noticed something.
Merlin was tossing and turning, a grimace on his face, shivering as if he was dunked in ice. Tears streamed down his face, and he kept opening and closing his mouth as if he were trying to scream.
Merlin was having a nightmare.
Quickly, Elyan ducked down and started to shake the boy awake. Of course, the frightened boy immediately thought that someone was attacking him, and went to the defensive.
As his fist barely grazed Elyan's cheek, the knight snapped into defensive mode. He shifted his body weight, landing an elbow to the nose before he could even thing about it.
The knight managed to snap back into his senses when he heard Merlin moan in pain, his hands reaching up to cup over his nose. Blood ran down his chin, soaking into his neckerchief.
"Gods, Merlin, I'm sorry," Elyan whispered, ripping off the boys neckerchief and using it to wipe blood off. "I didn't mean to."
Merlin only glared, tilting his head forward and holding the cloth to his nose. "Why did you do that?"
Elyan looked guilty, saying. "You were having a nightmare. I tried to wake you up." Blood started soaking through the rag. "Instinct took over." He huffed, running a hand through his hair. "You tried to hit me."
There was a pause, before the servant simply said, "Oh."
Elyan sighed, helping Merlin finally stop the bleeding, and handing him a water skin for him to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth.
"Are you alright?" Elyan asked, looking towards Merlin.
"Yeah."
A moment passed.
"Do you want to talk about the dream?"
"Not particularly, no."
"Then go to sleep."
Merlin sighed, but did so, falling unconscious within a matter of moments. He snored, snuggling into his paper thin blanket.
No, that wouldn't do.
Elyan took off his cloak, draping it over Merlin before heading back to his place beside the fire.
1- Gwaine
Merlin was off today, that much he knew. Not like he was sick, not tired either. It was more like he was depressed.
So, he did what any rational friend would do. Well, he did what any rational person would do if their mind hadn't been breaking down due to heavy alcohol abuse.
He followed Merlin.
He stayed out of sight, and only followed the tracks Merlin left, which were surprisingly well covered for a manservant. It made Gwaine wonder if Merlin often had to hide his tracks, considering all of the adventures he and the king had been on. It would made sense. Merlin did have a way of being lucky, but now Gwaine wondered if it was luck at all.
When he finally caught up with the servant, he was sitting at the edge of a lake. Merlin was visibly shaking. After a few moments the realization came that the cheerful, bumbling idiot was actually crying.
Merlin, carefree, lazy, little brother Merlin was knelt on the ground, bawling his eyes out.
Gwaine swallowed before inching forward. He eventually got close enough he heard the occasional whimper of 'Freya'.
After he got so close, he took off his cloak and draped it over Merlin's shoulders, making the servant jump.
Merlin franticly wiped his eyes, but he knew it was too late. Gwaine had saw, and now he had to make up another story about why he was crying.
But, Gwaine only knelt down with him, pulling his friend into a tight embrace until all of the sobbing had turned into silent tears, and all the hiccups were only shuddering breaths. No questions were asked. No words were spoken. It wasn't a knight comforting a servant, it was a friend holding a friend.
"Merlin," Gwaine asked, running a comforting hand through Merlin's hair. "Are you up for heading back, or do you want to stay here longer?"
Merlin hummed, shaking his head. "What do you think?"
Gwaine chuckled, looking out onto the water. No other words were said.
When they finally arrived back in Camelot, the redness faded from Merlin's face, he was still wearing Gwaine's cloak. When asked about it, they both shrugged. A secret between friends.
+1 Arthur
The tavern, words that have been said to Arthur a lot recently. Merlin has been spending more time there than normal, and the King was getting worried. Alcohol ruined people, and he wouldn't allow it to happen to his friend.
So, one morning, as Merlin was serving him breakfast, he decided to put an end to all of this nonsense.
"Sit down Merlin," he said, pointing to a chair. "I ordered some extra for you."
The servant looked like he had been told that Gaius had suddenly been turned into a woman. It was a look so shocked and surprised that Arthur had a hard time not laughing.
"O-okay." He sat down, looking at the extra plate that Arthur pushed towards him. "Thanks."
He hesitantly took a bite, chewed, paused, and then asked, "Are you feeling alright?"
"Of course I am," Arthur answered, sitting back in his chair. "What, I can't to something nice every once in a while?"
Merlin smiled. "No, not you. You're too big of a clotpole."
Arthur laughed. He would probably never meet someone as odd as Merlin.
He shook his head. This was about Merlin's problem, not amusement. This wouldn't go on any longer.
"You're not allowed to go to the tavern anymore," probably wasn't the best way to start the conversation. He could tell that much by the look of offense on the servant's face.
"I never go to the tavern."
"About half the time I ask where you are, I'm told the tavern," Arthur answered, crossing his arms. "It needs to stop. What if a threat like that old sorcerer comes again? You were drunk out of your mind when I finally saw you."
Merlin opened his mouth to protest, but promptly shut it. Arthur took that as a sign that he was right.
"If I so much as suspect you've gone to the tavern, I'll have you in the stocks faster than you can blink." Arthur stood then, walking around and patting Merlin on the shoulder. "I've seen some of my bravest knights ruined my liquor, Merlin. I'm not going to see my closest friend taken by it too."
Merlin's face softened considerably. It was a look of pure awe and confusion.
"Alright," he finally said, his voice shaking. "No more tavern."
"Good. Now when you're done eating you need to scrub my floors, polish my armor, and-"
"You dollophead!"