Work Text:
Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Prompt: “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”
Morgana was waiting by the palace steps when they got back. When she saw the red capes fluttering back into the courtyard, she shot to her feet, heart in her throat as the knights came closer.
“What news,” she said anxiously when Sir Leon dismounted, his face stony, “please, did you find them?”
“We found them,” Sir Leon nodded, motioning toward the two horses in the middle of their group, “but it’s not good.”
Morgana thanked him, rushing towards the pair. Arthur slipped off his horse, catching her in a tight hug. He sighed in relief at his sister’s touch, so different from the cold roughness of the kidnapper’s.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she scolded, the tremble in her arms belying the anger in her voice, “don’t leave me like that.”
“Do my best,” Arthur mumbled, pulling away, wincing when his tunic rubs against the chafing on his sides. “Will you help me with Merlin?”
Morgana nodded, her attention turning to the other figure slumped on the back of the neighboring horse. Arthur winced anew when Merlin didn’t stir, still fastened carefully to the saddle. He touched his servant’s arm gently, undoing the ties and wrapping Merlin’s arms about his neck. Lancelot held the other side of the saddle steady as Percival swept Merlin into his arms.
“We have to get him to Gaius,” Percival muttered, “let the others take care of the horses.”
“You have to go too, sire,” Lancelot said, giving Arthur a look, “have Gaius look you both over.”
Arthur shook his head stubbornly. “I’m fine.”
“You most certainly are not,” Morgana insisted, taking Arthur by the arm and leading him to follow Percival and Gwaine inside. Arthur let her pull him along, stopping her outside Gaius chambers after Percival and Gwaine had gone in.
“Morgana,” he started quietly, “they knew about Merlin’s magic.”
“The people who took you?” Arthur nodded. “Did they tell you how?”
Arthur shrugged helplessly. “They just mentioned that it was known.”
Morgana glanced at the door, chewing on her lip. “From what he’s told me, he’s just well-known in the magic community. Did they have any Druid objects on them?”
Arthur racked his brain, holding his hand to his head. “One of them…had a pendant with a symbol on it.”
“Did Merlin recognize it?”
“If he did he didn’t say anything.”
‘Could you draw it?”
Arthur nodded, reaching for the doorknob and wincing. Morgana gave him a look and pushed open the door for him. The Pendragons faltered in the doorway when they met Gwaine and Percival standing just inside.
“Why are we all over here?” Morgana shut the door behind them.
Percival jerked his head toward the bed behind them. “Gaius asked for space. We’re giving it.”
“Looks like Merlin got the worst of it,” Gwaine muttered, looking Arthur up and down, “not that I imagine you could’ve done anything about it.”
“Believe me,” Arthur murmured, “I tried.”
“I hesitate to ask…”
Arthur shook his head, glancing around at the others. Morgana scoffed when his gaze landed on her.
“Oh please. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
“I know.” Arthur took a deep breath. “They wanted information out of us. They weren’t very good at it, just…roughed us up when we wouldn’t talk.”
“Why’d they want you?” At their confused looks, Morgana shrugged. “If they were after Merlin’s sort of information—“ a look of realization dawned on their faces— “what did they want with you?”
“Powerful hostage?” Gwaine glanced over his shoulder. “Leverage?”
“Merlin cares,” Arthur said, “but they didn’t use me against him. Well, not in that way.”
He hesitated when they pressed him for more. Morgana bumped his shoulder with hers.
“They separated us after the first day,” Arthur said quietly, “I don’t know what they did after that. Mostly they just left me alone. But Merlin…”
Gwaine’s hand tightened on the pommel of his sword.
“There’s no need,” Percival quieted him, “they’re already dead.”
“Lucky for them.”
“Quite,” Morgana nodded sharply. “Well. Why don’t you two go help the rest of the knights?”
At their strange looks, she continued: “Gaius asked for space. Hovering isn’t going to do anything.”
They relented, leaving when they promise to keep the rest of them updated. Morgana left not long after, leaving Arthur to sit on the steps, wincing when his bruises protested, watching Gaius tend to Merlin. The physician kept his back to Arthur for the most part, not giving Arthur the benefit of reading his facial expressions. The desk between them kept Merlin out of sight. After a while, Gaius straightened, turning around and coming to Arthur. Arthur stood up, his shoulders tense.
“How is he?”
“He’ll need to rest,” Gaius said, “but he is not ill.”
Arthur nodded in relief. “Thank you.”
“Your turn, sire.”
Arthur followed Gaius obediently to the other side of the room, Merlin still out of his sight. Gaius tapped his shoulder and he obliged, struggling out of his muddied tunic. He hadn’t been lying; for the most part, it was just a beating. He’d had worse on a hard day of training. Gaius rubbed a salve on a few of the rougher ones, smoothed something over the parts of his arms and sides that had been rubbed raw, and bade him to have a bath drawn, not try and strain himself.
“Merlin—“
“When Merlin is well enough,” Gaius said, “I will send him up to you. I presume you would both rather he stay in your chambers, hmm?”
“It’ll be more comfortable,” Arthur mumbled, pulling on the spare tunic Gaius gave him.
“Mm.” Gaius reached for a tray and handed it to him. “These are all the things that you and Merlin will require. I trust you recognize most of them?”
Arthur nodded, thanking Gaius and making his way slowly to his chambers. Someone must’ve spread the word that he wasn’t to be disturbed because the hallways were all quiet. He sighed in relief when he got into his chambers, the tray clattering onto the nearest table as he slumped against the door. He took a moment to breathe, back in Camelot, back safe.
Merlin wasn’t going to wait until Gaius told him he was ready to move, was he?
No rest for the weary.
He swallowed heavily, opening the door again to ask the guard to bring water for a bath. It didn’t have to be warm, he said, just here quickly. The guard nodded. Sure enough, in a few moments, he saw Merlin stumbling around the corner, his mouth hardening when he lurched into the wall. He was still wearing his dirty clothes.
“Merlin,” Arthur called, reaching out for his servant, pulling him into his arms, “come on, I thought Gaius told you to rest.”
“Had to get to you,” Merlin muttered, “needed to…”
Arthur nodded, ushering Merlin into his chambers. “Come on, in here. I’ve already called for a bath.”
“You first.”
“No, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, easing his servant down onto a chair, “how can I do that? Didn’t Gaius tell you to take one too?”
Merlin nodded. He wouldn’t meet Arthur’s eyes. Arthur took his hand and held it tight.
“I’m sorry, Merlin.”
“For what?”
“I should’ve protected you more.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done,” Merlin murmured, leaning into Arthur, the both of them still battered and bruised, “you know that.”
Arthur tangled his fingers in Merlin’s hair, stroking carefully, the feeling of Merlin in his arms helping to ease the furious beast asleep in his chest. “What did they do to you?”
Merlin shakes his head.
“You know I’m going to see,” Arthur reminds him quietly, “if not now, at some point.”
“They were just bandits,” Merlin muttered, “they weren’t a significant threat.”
“They knew you had magic, Merlin.”
“Most of their kind do.”
“‘Their’ kind?”
“They’re other types of bandits, Arthur. They steal magic items to sell.”
“Is that why one of them had a Druid pendant?”
Merlin nodded. “I’m alright, Arthur, really.”
He let Arthur tip his chin up, careful not to strain anything. “Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
“Yes, Arthur.”
“Hmm.”
A soft knock on the door and the bath arrives. The serving girl—Arona—promised she’d be back quickly with the water. She vanished so quickly they barely had time to say thank you.
“Come on,” Arthur prodded, helping Merlin to his feet, “let’s get you out of all of this.”
“Arthur—“
“Merlin.”
“It’s not like I’ve got anything to wear until the bath comes,” Merlin argued, even as he let Arthur move him to the other room, “and I won’t have you getting your own things dirty only to have me wash them.”
Arthur chuckled, carefully pushing Merlin behind the screen. “Don’t worry. By the time it takes you to get out of those clothes the bath will be ready.”
“Dollophead.”
“Clotpole.”
“That’s still my word!”
“And it still suits you perfectly.”
Arthur didn’t go far, lingering in the space between the two rooms, watching as Arona finished with the bath, anxiously waiting for Merlin. What was taking so long?
“Merlin?”
“I’m coming.”
Arthur frowned when Merlin came out still wearing his tunic.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, I don’t want to have to parade naked around your chambers,” Merlin defended, “that’s your job.”
“I do not—“
“Yes, yes you do.”
“Merlin!”
“Arthur.”
Arthur frowned, looking at Merlin properly. “Now’s not the time for modesty, Merlin,” he said quietly, taking his servant by the hands and leading him to the bath, “you’re not going to be able to tend to all of this yourself.”
“…Arthur…”
“You know the rest of infection as well as anyone, Merlin,” Arthur murmured, “you need to get it off.”
Merlin wrapped his arms around himself, just looking at the bathwater. “…Arthur, I can’t.”
“Why not, Merlin?”
Merlin didn’t reply right away, coming forward to try and lay his head on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur let him, stroking his arms for a moment before carefully but firmly pushing him back, holding him in place by his arms.
“Why not, Merlin?”
Merlin shook his head, not meeting his gaze. “You won’t like it.”
“Of course I won’t like seeing you hurt, I never like seeing you hurt, what does—“
“No,” Merlin insisted, staring stubbornly at the bathwater, “you won’t…I…”
Oh. Oh, Merlin.
“Take it off.”
Merlin’s head shot up in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me,” Arthur repeated. “Take. It. Off.”
Merlin swallowed, taking a step back. Arthur’s hands settled on his waist as he pulled the tunic over his head, holding him close. He kept his eyes on Merlin’s face as he tossed the tunic away.
“Merlin,” he called quietly, “Merlin?”
Merlin didn’t look at him. Arthur rubbed small circles with his thumbs, waiting patiently. He didn’t look at Merlin’s chest, he didn’t look at the wounds, he just waited until Merlin looked at him.
“Do you want to warm the water?”
Merlin nodded, casting the spell, his eyes turning gold. Arthur eased him carefully into the bath, taking a sponge, and carefully beginning to clean the wounds.
“Why did you think,” he began softly, lifting Merlin’s arm to take care of his abused wrists, “that I wouldn’t like it?”
Merlin scoffed, curling his fingers around Arthur’s wrist, not to push him away, but to hold onto him, a reassuring point of contact. The way he held onto Arthur made him pause, covering Merlin’s hand with his own.
“Merlin,” he coaxed, “please?”
“Skinny little boy from Ealdor,” Merlin said quietly, looking up at Arthur. “Not exactly prized material.”
“Nonsense,” Arthur said, leaning forward and brushing the dirt off of Merlin’s forehead, “you’re more than that.”
“Am I?”
Arthur paused, frowning. “Of course you are. Don’t you know that?”
“The bandits thought so…”
“Well, I think so.” Arthur went back to cleaning the abrasions on Merlin’s arm. “You’re important to me.”
“…I know.”
“Good.” Arthur made to stand up only to almost fall into the bath when Merlin pulled him close, hugging him fiercely. He stiffed for a moment, steadying himself against the bath, before wrapping his arms around his servant. “Oh, Merlin…”
“Sorry,” came the muffled reply, “I just…earlier I never got to…”
Not caring that his clothes were getting wet, Arthur squeezed him tight. “Me neither.”
“…we’re safe now, right?”
“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur reassured, on the floor, on his knees, his borrowed tunic getting more and more soaked by the second, in his chambers, in the castle, within the walls of Camelot, his knights nearby, his sister close, Merlin securely in his arms, “we’re safe now.”