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Arthur woke up with a groan, the rays of sunlight stabbing his eyes, even through his closed eyelids. He turned on his front to bury his face in the pillows, and blindly reached to the other side of the bed. His hand patted the mattress, searching for the familiar warmth he had grown accustomed to. When he found only cold bedsheets, he huffed an irritated sigh and lifted his head, only to find that the side of the bed Merlin usually slept on was empty.
Sitting up, he looked around the room, finding it as empty as his bed. The curtains hadn’t been drawn last night. He had forgotten to close them before lying in bed and felt too tired to get up to do it. And then, he thought it was just as well, since it would provide some light for Merlin when he joined him later. His husband often went to bed late, too occupied by his numerous duties as King Consort and Court Sorcerer. Arthur had become quite apt at convincing him to go to bed early, but there were still nights he spent working, bent on his desk. Arthur had often wondered if Merlin had already been so terrible at taking care of himself when he was his manservant, and although he would prefer to think otherwise, Arthur was convinced that Merlin already had his fair share of sleepless nights back then.
Arthur got out of bed and towards the door of his and Merlin’s chambers, the guards posted outside giving him a curious glance. Arthur was sure that his father never let anyone other than his manservant see him in his sleepwear, vulnerable and unprotected, but with Arthur, it wasn’t such a rare occurrence.
“Have you seen my husband?”
The guards looked at each other before shaking their heads. “No, Sire. He hasn’t come to your chambers tonight,” one of them replied.
“Do you want us to see if he is in his study?” the other asked.
Arthur simply nodded and watched as the guards left. He tried to keep himself calm, tried to convince himself that Merlin had simply fallen asleep at his desk like he had countless times before. But he couldn’t shake the sense of wrongness that had settled in his guts.
Merlin had looked worried the previous day and he had barely eaten anything at dinner. Arthur had tried to get him to open up about what was wrong, but Merlin refused to divulge any information. Once they had been done eating, he had diverted Arthur’s attention with a heated kiss full of promises before retreating to his study. Or so he had said. His husband had a tendency to deal with problems and threats on his own, going out in the dead of night to fight whoever and whatever endangered Arthur’s or the Kingdom’s safety. He and Arthur had had many arguments about this, making the sturdy castle walls shake with the volume of their voices. These arguments invariably ended with both men naked in shared bed, sweaty and panting, lying in a tangle of limbs. Arthur knew that after years of having to deal with such threats alone and in secret, it was hard for him to come forward and ask for assistance, or even just to tell others of impending dangers. But Arthur wished Merlin would make more efforts in including him in those battles. He was the King after all, he had to fight those battles alongside his husband.
Unsurprisingly, the guards came back looking slightly alarmed, and Arthur knew what they would say before they even opened their mouths.
“Sire,” the tallest guard said with a bow, “Lord Merlin isn’t in his study and no one around the castle has seen him since last evening shortly after he left your chambers after dinner.”
Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He dearly hoped that Merlin wasn’t in trouble, but the chances of him having been injured and unable to walk back to the citadel were high.
“Thank you,” he said with a tight smile. “Can you please gather the knights in the courtyard? I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, Sire,” they replied in unison.
Arthur dressed quickly, heading to the armoury to put on his armour. While dressing himself wasn’t an issue, tightening the buckles of his armour would prove more difficult without help, so he hoped to find someone to assist him there.
As soon as he was ready, Arthur joined his men in the courtyard. His closest knights were anxiously awaiting orders, wanting to leave as soon as possible. They were all Merlin’s friend, even before they were Arthur’s knights for many of them, so they shared Arthur’s worry over the Court Sorcerer’s safety. But even the other knights looked rather concerned, as all of them had come to love Merlin during his time in Camelot.
He ordered each of the Knights of the Roundtable to take five men with them, sending them in different direction so that they could search the woods surrounding the city. While he would have preferred to ride out surrounded by his closest knights, he knew Merlin would probably be comforted by being rescued by close friends. They also knew Merlin better than the other knights, which could prove helpful in the search. Arthur himself planned on taking five men to take part in the search. However, Lancelot approached in as he was tightening the buckles of his saddle around his horse’s belly.
“I know you want to find him, Arthur, but you should stay here. It’s not safe to have both of you gone,” Lancelot said, softly patting Arthur’s shoulder.
Arthur knew it was true. Since their wedding, Merlin and Arthur had agreed, albeit reluctantly, that one of them should always remain within the city walls. They only broke this rule when the situation requested it and both of them were needed. It had happened a few times, when Arthur needed to go on a quest that required magical help, or when Cenred had crossed their borders a few months after Merlin became his Consort. Arthur thought this was a dire enough situation that it justified his absence from the citadel. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as a wave of anger swelled in his chest.
“I will not stay here while Merlin is out there injured or in danger! How can you expect me to do nothing while my husband is missing, Lancelot?” Arthur shouted.
He hadn’t necessarily meant to yell at his knight. He knew Lancelot was just as worried for Merlin’s safety as he was and only wanted to do what was best for both his friends and his Kingdom. But Arthur was enraged by the suggestion that he should remain within the safety of the castle when Merlin could be in mortal danger.
“Arthur, please listen-”
“No, you listen, Lancelot!” Arthur’s voice grew even louder and angrier than before, as he pushed the knight away with more force than intended, sending him against the wall beside the door of the stables. “I have no orders to take from you. I will go out there and find my husband, whatever it takes, understood?”
Lancelot shoot him a sad smile, but nodded, nonetheless. “Just be careful out there, Arthur. Please. Merlin will be furious if you get as much as scratch on your armour while looking for him, and I don’t want to deal with a furious Merlin.” He left before Arthur could reply.
Arthur had been riding for hours, spreading his men out so that they could look around the forest more efficiently. All around him, he heard other knights shouting Merlin’s name. He and the other teams he had formed to search for Merlin were due to gather in the courtyard in only a few hours. Arthur had determined it gave them enough time. Merlin was on foot, he knew that because no horses were missing from the royal stables this morning, so he couldn’t have gone too far. However, they still hadn’t found him yet, and dread was growing in Arthur’s belly, making his blood freeze in his veins. Arthur supposed that some of the knights he sent in the opposite direction of him might have found him and the news simply hadn’t reached his group yet, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.
It was almost nightfall when Arthur and his knights regrouped in the courtyard, and Arthur noticed that Gwaine’s group was missing. He hoped they were alright.
“We will wait for a few minutes, and if they haven’t com back by then, I’ll send a group in search of them, in case they encountered trouble,” Arthur said as his men whispered among themselves about the missing knights.
He knew very well that the group he would send would be composed of him and his inner circle. The others didn’t need to know that yet, though, as they would only try to deter him from riding out again. The suggestion that he should leave his friends in danger only to guaranty his own safety made him furious. It had been the way Uther acted, trying to assure the nobles’ safety while he let the commoners die. Trying to save his own life, or even his own pride as he sent good men to kill and die in his name. Arthur didn’t want to be like that. He didn’t want to be that kind of king.
The sound of hooves hitting cobblestones made him look towards the entrance of the courtyard, a smile splitting his face as he saw Gwaine riding towards them, holding Merlin close. His smile faded, though, when he noticed the state Merlin was in. His husband was pale and limp, his head bobbing where it rested tucked against Gwaine’s shoulder. His tunic was drenched in blood and covered in mud and his hair was matted and plastered to his face. For a second Arthur’s heart lodged itself in his throat and tears pricked at his eyes as he wondered if he had lost the person he cared for the most in the world.
It was Gwaine’s expression that reassured him. Arthur was convinced that, had Merlin been dead, Gwaine would be completely shattered. But while the knight looked worried and protective, his face didn’t express grief. Arthur sighed, rushing towards his knight and his husband, taking Merlin from Gwaine’s arms as the latter dismounted. He looked tired and dishevelled, but also reassured now that Merlin had been brought back to safety. Arthur supposed his image had to be rather similar.
They quickly brought Merlin to Gaius’s chambers, the old physician grumbling at the intrusion before blanching when he saw Merlin in Arthur’s arms. The king’s husband was breathing shallowly, his face scrunched in pain even as he was unconscious.
“Put him on the cot,” Gaius said, pointing to the empty patient bed. “Percival, bring me water from the well, please,” he directed the tallest knight.
He gave orders to all the men in the room, sensing that they wouldn’t agree to leave without being informed of Merlin’s injuries but also understanding that they needed to feel useful in that stressful moment. They were knights, men of action. They didn’t take well to waiting patiently.
Arthur gasped when Gaius took off Merlin’s shirt, revealing the deep, purple bruises that littered his chest and abdomen. Arthur may not have been a physician, but he had seen enough injuries as a warrior to know that those didn’t look good. That was confirmed by the strings of curses that left the usually dignified Court Physician’s lips.
He glared daggers at Arthur, as if he was responsible for Merlin’s wounds, asking, “Care to tell me what happened to him?” with a raised eyebrow that made the King feel like a troublesome child.
Arthur was torn between feeling guilty, angry and worried, and as was too often the case, anger won the battle. “I don’t know Gaius! My idiot husband thought it was clever to sneak out into the night to fight off whatever threat he had found and got himself injured in the process! It’s not my fault if he can’t get it into his head that he can ask for help now!” Arthur was breathing heavily, sensing the eyes of all the occupants of the room on him. He caught Gaius’s softening stare and Elyan’s pitying smile, and all the others who looked at him with gentle worry and his fury rose even higher. He paced around the room, callous fingers pulling at his hair and scratching his scalp. He stopped with his back against the wall near the ed Merlin was lying on, not daring to touch his husband for fear of harming him further. “And look at him now!” Arthur cried and tears started spilling from his bloodshot eyes, “look at him, he’s badly injured and I could protect him.” Arthur paused, hanging his head before his hand clenched into fists at his side. “I couldn’t protect him!” he yelled punching the wall behind him.
The bones of his hand cracked upon impact, but he didn’t care. He was about to send another punch when a pair of strong hands wrapped around his arm, keeping it in place. He looked up to find Percival who had returned with a bucket of water for Gaius just in time to witness Arthur’s outburst. The bigger man shook his head, guiding Arthur to a chair with surprising gentleness.
Lancelot brought him a glass of water, looking at him disapprovingly. “I told you, Merlin won’t be happy if you get hurt, even if you hurt yourself.”
Arthur sighed, hanging his head. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image of Merlin berating him for getting hurt even as he was wrapped in bandages. Lancelot made quick work of bandaging his hand, after making sure no bones had been broken. He was surprisingly good at it. Arthur sipped his water, feeling his thundering heart slow down as he watched Gaius examine Merlin. The physician hummed, nodding or shaking his head at each information he gained from his auscultation. When he was done, he turned to the assembled knights who were all waiting for his verdict.
“Merlin will be fine, but he needs rest. His body will heal quickly but he exhausted himself. He might stay asleep for a few days.”
They all breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, go and let me heal him,” he added with a stern glare.
None of them dared protest the physician’s orders, except Arthur, who was about to open his mouth when Gwaine grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the door.
“Come on princess, let Gaius work and you can see Merls later. I’m starving let’s get something to eat.”
Arthur grumbled all the way to the dining hall, deciding he might as well eat here if he was to be in the company of his friends. He was grateful for their presence, though, as much as he complained about it. He felt lighter as his friends joked and laughed around him, and before he knew it, he joined in, laughter of relief bubbling in his chest. Merlin would be alright, and it was all that mattered.