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“You there, serving boy.”
Merlin paused in his step, sighing before turning around to greet the two visiting knights.
“Yes, how may I help you?” Merlin asked politely, taking them in. He recognized them as Sir Hoel of Brittany and Sir Lionel of Gaunnes. They were tall and broad but no more intimidating than the rest of the pretentious nobles who were taking up residence in the castle’s guest rooms.
“Attend to us immediately, we need to be fit with our armor for the tournament,” Sir Hoel commanded, his eyes raking over the servant with a rude judgment.
“I apologize, but I cannot attend you. I am needed with Prince Arthur,” Merlin bit back the actual response he wanted to give, which involved plenty of foul words.
“Are you deaf, boy?” Sir Lionel stepped into Merlin’s space, making him lean back. “Arthur mentioned you were free for us to use during our stay. I would hate to have to tell him you were less than satisfactory.” Merlin pressed his lips together, trying to suppress his frustration. The whole week had been like this, one knight after another. It seemed like there were no reasonable nobles left in the world.
“Prince Arthur is my first and foremost commitment. Seeing as I cannot be in two places at once, I must attend him. I will ensure that another servant is there to aid you for the Melee.” Merlin gave a small closed-lipped smile, barely containing the spiteful comment that popped into his head.
Or at least he thought he had.
A hand gripped his shoulder, whipping him around. Merlin nearly toppled from the force, his wide eyes meeting the harsh, angered knight’s. "What did you just say?”
“I-” Merlin stuttered, trying to back away, but the grip held him in place.
“You should know your place by now, you impertinent rat,” Sir Hoel continued, abruptly shoving Merlin into the wall. Merlin yelped, his arm cracking hard against the solid stone. He held it close, hissing at the way it throbbed to the touch.
“I- I do! I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” Merlin shrunk in on himself, realizing how out of hand this was getting. His magic itched, wanting to intervene, but Merlin knew he couldn’t. Not in the middle of the corridor, and not against the knights.
“I don’t think you do, I think we ought to teach you some manners,” Sir Lionel narrowed his eyes, and Merlin swallowed, eyes darting between the two of them. “Kneel.”
He clenched his jaw, unwilling to obey the order, despite his lack of control over his plight.
The punch came out of nowhere, hitting Merlin sharply across his left cheekbone. The knight’s ring dug into his skin, and Merlin felt the sting of the cut as it formed. He jolted sideways, stunned and dazed.
“I- ” Merlin opened his mouth to speak but wasn’t able to even get a sound out.
Sir Hoel gripped Merlin’s injured arm, sending a shock of pain up his shoulder and yanked him brutally to the ground. He fell hard on his knees, barely suppressing the yelp that escaped him. The man gripped the back of his neckerchief and pulled back, forcing Merlin to look up. He choked, his good hand flying to claw at the red fabric.
“I said kneel.” The man let go after a long moment, and Merlin collapsed forward on his hand, coughing and gasping for air.
“Alright! I’m kneeling,” Merlin muttered hoarsely to the floor, barely holding back the annoyance in his tone. A drop of blood dripped from his cheek, landing in a perfect circular dab on the stone below him. He felt a fury building inside him, thinking about the way his magic could throw the noble back, away from him. He could do it, and it would be so easy-
The touch of cold metal on the back of his neck made him freeze, immediately discerning the object as the edge of a sword. He felt his heart race with panic.
“Wait-”
“Oh, what? Not so cocky now, are we?” Hoel sneered, his boot ruthlessly kicking into Merlin’s side. Merlin doubled over further into the ground, wheezing. A hand grabbed at his hair and pulled him back up on his hand and knees. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Merlin’s shoulders sagged in relief at the sound of Arthur’s voice, panting breaths into the floor. Arthur was here, Arthur would help him, and everything would be okay.
“Apologies for the noise, my lord, we were just teaching this insolent fool a lesson,” Sir Hoel pressed the blade down, and Merlin cried out as it breached his skin.
“Stop! Don’t!” Arthur vociferated, stepping thunderously closer. “Don’t.”
The man only sneered at Arthur’s pleas. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t discipline him. My God, no wonder he is so impudent. He hasn’t been properly trained.”
“The way I treat my servants is none of your concern. I’ll kindly ask you to back away from him this instant,” Arthur was using his stern diplomatic voice that Merlin always found himself admiring.
“Sire-”
“I won’t ask again. Release him at once,” Merlin could hear the sound of Arthur unsheathing his sword. “Now.” There was a venom that echoed against the walls, sending chills down Merlin’s spine. The knights reacted right away, promptly dropping Merlin from their grasps before slinking away. Merlin’s tired body collapsed utterly to the cold stone, hyper-aware of every injury and pain. A hand touched his back lightly, and he flinched away from it.
“It’s me, Merlin,” the softness in Arthur’s voice relaxed Merlin, making him turn his head. Arthur’s startling blue eyes were filled with concern, hardening when they fell on Merlin’s cheek. “Christ, Merlin.” He tenderly cupped Merlin’s jaw, inspecting the no doubt bloody cut. “Where are you hurt?”
Merlin wasn’t sure how to answer. His cheek was throbbing; his arm was going numb. His throat was tight, there was a pain in his side that made it hurt to breathe, and his knees were pulsing with pain. On top of it all, he could feel something warm trailing down the back of his neck. As if reading his thoughts, Arthur reached to pull his neckerchief up and examine where he had seen the blade on Merlin.
“It’s not deep, but Gaius should look at it. Can you stand?” Arthur inquired, gently reaching for Merlin’s right hand. Merlin let out a hiss, tugging his arm to his chest. Arthur withdrew, frowning.
“They-” Merlin gulped, his voice a raspy whisper. “I hit the wall.”
Arthur’s frown deepened into a dark scowl, inhaling deeply before nodding in understanding. He reached for Merlin’s other arm and attempted to help him up. Merlin tried to put pressure on his legs, but the pain in his knees made him buckle. He cried out, and Arthur caught him on the way to the floor. There was a moment of shuffling before Arthur reached around Merlin’s back and under his knees, grunting a little as he lifted him horizontally in his arms. Merlin gasped at the movement, his good arm wrapping around Arthur’s neck to hold on.
“Okay?” Arthur’s eyes searched Merlin’s scrunched up face as he started to walk in the direction of the physician’s quarters. Merlin just nodded slightly, trying to hold back whimpers; each step painfully jostling Merlin’s body in some way. “I’m so sorry, Merlin.”
“S’not your fault,” Merlin mumbled through clenched teeth, resting his head against Arthur’s chest. He could feel Arthur’s racing heart underneath, beating powerfully. It was calming, and Merlin found himself closing his eyes, the world fading away for a moment, hearing nothing but Arthur.
“Merlin?” Arthur’s frantic voice broke through his daze. Merlin opened his eyes as Arthur laid him down onto Gaius’s work cot. He yelped a little as his legs were laid straight, and a hand gently prodded at his arm.
“What happened?” Gaius peered over Merlin, holding his arm gingerly as Arthur explained how he had found Merlin.
“-and he passed out on the way here-”
“That could just be from shock, but I will check his head. That cut on his cheek looks like it might need to be sewn up. How did it happen, Merlin?” Merlin blinked, realizing they were waiting for him to speak.
“Punched,” Merlin managed, wincing at the scratchy sound that came out. Arthur’s jaw clenched as he looked from Merlin to Gaius, tense with anger.
“Alright,” Gaius placed a soothing hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Where else does it hurt, Merlin?” Merlin reached for his side with his free hand and then pointed to his knees, feeling like a child. Gaius felt his side a little, declaring nothing broken inside. "But, you will have to tell me if the pain gets worse."
“And the cut on his neck,” Arthur motioned for Gaius to look. Gaius removed Merlin’s neckerchief, grimacing at the red line printed on his throat from the fabric. He guided Merlin’s head to look in the opposite direction and examined the cut.
“It is shallow. I will put a poultice on it and bandage it.” Gaius moved, and Merlin closed his eyes tiredly, feeling him pull up the legs of his trousers. “The skin is not split, but his knees are red from an impact. Do your legs hurt too, Merlin?” Merlin just nodded. He could feel how purple the bruises were going to be already. “I will put a cold cloth on it, but there’s not much more we can do for that.”
“My arm?” Merlin asked weakly, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it felt.
“It doesn’t seem broken to me, but I will have to wrap it to help the swelling.” There was a shuffling, and Gaius lifted something to Merlin’s lips. “For the pain,” Gaius explained. Merlin sighed but opened his mouth, obediently swallowing the unpleasant draught. The room was silent for a while as Gaius went to work, sewing and bandaging Merlin’s injuries. Merlin kept his eyes closed, waiting for him to finish, and ended up drifting off. When he finally opened his eyes again, Gaius was gone, and Arthur was sitting next to him, watching him closely.
“Arthur?”
“I’m here, Merlin. How do you feel?” Arthur shifted a little closer so that Merlin could see him without straining.
“I’ve been better,” Merlin gave the prince a small smile. “But I’m okay,” he added, trying to believe it himself. Arthur’s eyes searched him for a moment before nodding. A silence passed between them, and Merlin distantly wondered what Arthur’s heart sounded like at that moment, eagerly wishing he could lean over and press his ear to his chest again.
“They will pay for this,” Arthur shook his head, his voice full of spite. “They won’t get away with this. I won’t let them.”
“Arthur,” Merlin pressed his lips together. “They are nobles. I’m just a servant. It doesn’t matter-”
“Of course it matters,” Arthur’s hand touched the top of Merlin’s, and Merlin’s eyes fell to where they rested on the cot. “Merlin, of course, it matters. How could you even say that?”
“Because it’s true. I can’t accuse them of anything. My word means nothing. Anything that happens to servants at the hands of nobles is just seen as the order of things.”
“I can’t accept that. It’s not...it’s not fair,” Arthur loured. Merlin took in the prince’s taunt frame, the stress of creases on his face, the sadness in his eyes.
“No, it’s not. But for now, this is how it is.”
“I won’t rule like this. I could never let you, let anyone, get hurt like this, and not get the justice they deserve. I want to do better for Camelot. For you. ”
“I know Arthur, and I know you will. Your heart holds more nobility than all of the nobles combined.” Merlin smiled fondly, watching Arthur’s face as he took in what Merlin had said. Arthur squeezed his hand, his blue eyes watery.
“Thank you, Merlin.”
“Of course. I mean it.” Merlin looked back down at their hands, wavering before slowly twisting his hand until they were palm to palm. He threaded his fingers loosely between Arthur’s, just wanting to hold his hand. Merlin held his breath for a moment, waiting to see what would happen. Arthur stared down at them as well, with an expression of wonderment.
And then he laced his own fingers the rest of the way, curling around the back of Merlin's hand, and gave a little squeeze.