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If Merlin hadn’t been hiding from Gaius and his dirty leech tank, then he never would have been out on an early morning trek through the woods. And if Gwaine hadn’t been looking for a way out of training, then he wouldn’t have been tempted to come with the manservant on his hunt for herbs. In short, none of the morning’s events should have happened, but it was too late for wishful thinking.
---
"So what is it again that we are meant to be looking for?" Gwaine asked, for what seemed like the millionth time. Merlin rolled his eyes at the knight; he'd probably have been better off alone.
"Why are you even pretending to look for the flowers and herbs at this point? You’re not even paying attention to the plants."
"How else will I be able to convince our dear Princess that I was out here to help you when he gives me grief about missing this morning's training?" Gwaine's arm came to rest around Merlin's shoulder, and both men split into grins at the thought of King Arthur losing his head.
For a while longer, the two men worked in companionable silence as they walked through the forest. In truth, Merlin was glad to have Gwaine at his side without the usual din of the castle life. Since Arthur's coronation, moments like this had been few and far between, and Merlin missed his friend. Similarly, life as a knight had stretched Gwaine thin, and for all his jokes and good humor, he was glad for some quiet respite with Merlin.
Gwaine never had to put on a good face or pretend to be a better version of himself around him. There was always a lurking fear that this new life was going to separate Gwaine from his roots and from friends like Merlin, which was one of the reasons he'd avoided nobility for so long.
Having a home was nice, but he sometimes missed moments alone in the woods somewhere, Iooking for the next big adventure. Though this morning, he’d settle for a romp through the forest with his friend. Suddenly, Merlin stopped, which immediately made Gwaine halt in his tracks.
In a quiet whisper, Merlin spoke, "Did you hear that?"
He hadn’t, but in the years of his relationship with Merlin, Gwaine had learned that his friend often heard things that others didn’t. Whether he had an explanation for it or not, Merlin always seemed to know when something was off, and Gwaine was one of the few knights who had learned to trust Merlin’s feelings.
Gwaine was on edge, quickly scanning the forest for signs of trouble that would’ve caused the noise that Merlin heard. A glimmer of silver caught his eye, and in a breath’s moment, it was followed by the tell-tale cry of an over-confident mercenary.
Dispatching the first two was easy, and he even saw that Merlin managed to take one out while he was working on the third. Honestly, it was a bit fortuitous to have a story to take back to Arthur when his royal highness complained about Gwaine missing training. How could the princess be mad when Gwaine had been hard at work protecting their precious Merlin?
When three more men broke through the tree line, however, the spirited fight began to worry him.
“Merls,” Gwaine shouted as he fought to put himself between the mercenary and his friend, “you need to run!”
His sentence was punctuated by the bandit between them dropping dead. Four down, three to go.
“I’m good right here, thanks.”
As usual, Merlin managed to be cheeky even in the face of danger. Gwaine warred between rolling his eyes and scolding his friend’s recklessness. Ultimately, he didn’t get to do either because in the next moment, one of the mercenaries tackled Gwaine to the ground while the other wrested his sword from his grasp.
All humor lost from his face, Merlin’s brows furrowed in concern and he stretched out his hand as if to ward their attackers off. Gwaine’s name was formed on his lips, but before he could cry out the third - and the surliest - of the group hit him with the pummel of his sword while he was distracted by Gwaine.
Like a newborn colt, Merlin wobbled and then hit the ground. Gwaine cursed as he struggled against his captors. Of course, he was angry at the men, but he was angrier at himself. How easily he had let them be overpowered. Whatever happened to Merlin now was his fault.
The man dragged Merlin’s hands behind his back and made quick work of tying up the servant. Gwaine winced as the ropes were pulled tighter than necessary, but was relieved to see that Merlin was already coming around. It wasn’t the knife at his own throat that kept Gwaine from fighting his captors, but the wicked gleam in the eyes of the man who held a knife to Merlin. It was painful to see the point of the weapon poke the delicate skin of his friend’s neck, even more so when he caught Merlin’s eyes and saw the fear there.
That fear kept Gwaine frozen as his hands were tied behind his back. Whatever he had to do to keep that man from cutting the knife any deeper, he could not let anything happen to Merlin.
“Well lads,” Merlin’s captor began, “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve gathered you.”
“Not really,” Gwaine bit back a laugh at Merlin’s quip. Trust that lovable idiot to be joking with a knife to his throat. When it drew blood, however, Gwaine’s smile fell.
“I really only need one of you, so you best watch your mouth, boy. My employer is paying a hefty sum for information on the King, and while a knight serves my purpose well, I doubt his servant will be of much help.”
The mercenary’s plot wasn’t exactly a shocker, but Gwaine would do whatever it took to keep Merlin alive - and hopefully away from this man’s line of questioning. During his travels, Gwaine had encountered countless injuries and he could stomach a decent amount of torture to keep his kingdom, and his friends, safe. Imagining Merlin going through that same torture was unbearable. Unfortunately, their captors certainly weren’t taking his opinion into account.
“Rolf, help me get this whelp secured so we can start having fun with our fair knight.”
Relief. They weren’t going to hurt Merlin.
“Don’t touch him!” The men ignored his friend’s cries, but Gwaine offered Merlin a small smile of reassurance. It was okay. Better him than anyone else - especially Merlin.
“Please, take me instead.” The manservant’s voice was raw with emotion as he fought against his captor. His panic seemed to spur the ugly brute’s sadistic side.
“What would a little weakling like you have to offer?” The man laughed, “What does a knight’s servant know of Camelot’s secrets?”
Oh no. The man’s words were a catalyst for Merlin. His panic turned to peace and a mask of determination slid over his face. Any friend of Merlin’s knew he was unfailingly self-sacrificing. There could be no mistaking what he was about to do. Though the thought of it made Gwaine’s heart lurch out of his chest.
Desperately, he caught Merlin’s eyeline to reason with him. Don’t do this Merlin. Keep your mouth shut. All this he tried to convey in a shake of his head, but Merlin's determination seemed unchanged.
“He doesn’t know anything, ignore him.”
One of the mercenaries kicked Gwaine in the side as a reward for his outburst.
“Because the knight I serve is King Arthur.”
The kick in his side was nothing compared to the pain he felt as he watched the mercenary’s sadistic smile.
Why did the selfless fool have to open his mouth? He didn’t even seem concerned for himself; at the moment his eyes were trained on Gwaine, alert and strangely calm.
“D’ya hear that, boys? We managed to snag the King’s famed manservant. I’ve heard you follow him around like a little bitch. That true?”
Gwaine grit his teeth at the insult, but Merlin stayed silent.
“Hainard.” The leader nodded to his counterpart and Gwaine felt another kick land in his side. He tried to hold back the grunt of pain, but when the second kick rained down it was impossible to hold back.
“Yes,” Merlin cried, “Yes, it’s true.”
“Well then, we’re going to have some fun. My employer needs to know about King Arthur’s comings and goings. Sounds like the kind of thing his manservant would know.”
As he spoke, he worked with the other mercenary, Jonas, to fasten Merlin to the tree. Despite the suffering that was no doubt coming, Merlin remained stoic and let himself be restrained. The man had layers that Gwaine would never understand. How could he be so calm in the face of all of this?
If Gwaine had entertained any hopes that the mercenaries would continue to focus on him as Merlin’s motivation, they disappeared when he saw the knife press into his friend’s cheek.
“What can you tell me about his highness?”
“I think he’s planning on having lunch later today.”
It would have been funny had the man not quickly swiped across Merlin’s face, leaving a shallow trail of blood in his wake.
“You’ll find that I’m quite the impatient man when I don’t get my way. This will go a lot faster if you just give me what I need.”
Merlin smirked and spit out the blood that had accumulated there, “Well, I have all the time in the world. My only goal today was avoiding King Arthur, and this is doing the job nicely.”
At any other time, Gwaine would have been amused by the manservant’s ability to abuse Arthur, but he could tell the man was quickly getting frustrated by his friend’s nonchalance. He feared what a lost temper might mean for Merlin, the rusty dagger in the man’s hand a loathed sight.
“I’ll give you one more chance before things start turning ugly.”
“I think you’ll find things turned ugly when your faces showed up.”
More quickly than Gwaine could process, the brute slashed across Merlin’s torso. At first, he thought that the blade missed, based on his friend’s non-reaction; however, the red color that had begun to leak down the blue tunic betrayed him. Gwaine could do little more than stare in horror as it soaked through his clothes.
“ Hmph , think you can fool me by putting on this brave face? I’ve brought down men twice as big as you.” The man back-handed Merlin across the face, hitting his already open wound with such force that Gwaine winced.
Maybe Merlin was starting to fear the man because this time he said nothing in return. Instead, he only stared unnervingly as the man used Merlin’s shirt to wipe the blood from his hand.
“Cyril, I think our knight is feeling a little left out.” One of Gwaine’s captors - maybe Hainard? - called out to the leader. “Perhaps we should include him?”
The man, Cyril, grinned but didn’t take his eyes off Merlin. “You know how I like to do things. One at a time. It’s more satisfying to drain the life out of one and then start over on the next.”
Gwaine had to work hard to keep himself from vomiting. The way that disgusting man was leering at Merlin was going to be imprinted on his mind for the rest of his life, however long his life would be.
“These clothes are in the way, don’t you think?” Cyril asked ominously. Though Merlin said nothing, the man began cutting away his tunic until Merlin’s torso was bare. Then Cyril wrenched the neckerchief off, not caring that Merlin’s head was yanked with it.
Once again, Merlin didn’t look phased. It was as if this was nothing new to him - just another day in the woods. Gwaine, however, was stunned. Where had all these scars come from? It was always obvious that there were layers to Merlin that none of the knights understood, but Gwaine was wondering if he really knew Merlin at all. The clumsy servant that he met in the tavern was long gone, now replaced with a man who had clearly been through so much pain.
Cyril seemed to take pleasure from the fact that Merlin’s body was covered in scars. His grin widened as he leeringly lingered on each mark. It was nauseating that someone could be so twisted, especially because it was Merlin being objectified like this.
“Oh, you are going to be so much fun to break.”
---
At some point, he started blocking out everything that was happening. Cyril would ask a question, Merlin would either not answer or give a snarky retort, and Cyril would respond with his knife. As horrifying as Merlin’s scars had been, Gwaine wished that he could see them again, for Merlin’s torso was now too covered in blood to see anything.
Several times, Gwaine had tried to capture Merlin’s eye line, trying to offer him any reassurance possible, but his friend seemed to be steadfastly avoiding his direction. Whether Merlin was upset with him for letting them get captured or what, Gwaine didn’t know, but he was sorry that there was no comfort he could give.
Maybe he was a bad knight because there was a part of him that hoped Merlin would just tell the men something so all of the pain would be over. If he made it out of this and Merlin didn’t… Gwaine didn’t want to think about it, but if it did, then Gwaine knew he would have to leave Camelot. He couldn’t be a knight after this failure.
He raised his head again to look at Merlin, hoping make eye contact. Instead, he was greeted by the horrifying sight of his friend’s head hanging limp, as if there was no more life in him.
No. Please no. Gwaine struggled anew as the fear spread through his system. Merlin couldn’t have died while he was lost in his own wallowing.
Cyril grabbed Merlin by the hair and pulled his head up. His blood boiling, Gwaine watched as the man slapped Merlin around, but his anger was quickly replaced by hope when he saw Merlin open his eyes.
“I think this one is about used up. Shame.” Cyril announced to the other men. Neither of Gwaine’s captors seemed too broken up about the loss.
They were losing time. There should’ve been a patrol around at some point, and Gwaine’s only hope had been that they would stumble upon them. But if Merlin was losing strength, then these men would move on to Gwaine. Being tortured didn’t scare him, but Cyril didn’t seem like the type to keep Merlin alive if he was done using him.
“You want me to prep this one, boss?” Asked one of the men holding Gwaine down.
“May as well, but I plan on using these boys till the very last drop.” His words turned Gwaine’s stomach. There was a deeper level to his threat that made the knight feel sick.
“Doesn’t seem like you’re going to get much out of him.”
“There’s more than one way to use a pretty young thing like this. He may not have given us the information we needed, but there’s no reason I can’t enjoy the pleasures he can offer.”
Cyril’s hand dropped to Merlin’s laces and Gwaine’s blood pooled in his ears. The only thought in his head was that this disgusting man needed to die before he could take away Merlin’s last dignity.
Luckily, Hainard and the other mercenary had been in the process of untying his bonds so that he could be fastened to a tree. While Cyril was distracted, Gwaine shoved into one of the men and then headbutted the other. He had no plan, but at this point, it didn’t matter. Dying to protect Merlin was the best reason to put his life in danger that he’d ever had - and he’d put his life in danger many times.
One of the men rebounded quickly and landed a punch across Gwaine’s cheek. The ropes were loose enough now that Gwaine could pull his hands free and return the favor. These men weren’t his target, however, and he quickly turned back to save his friend. His eyes were on Merlin, but shifted as he saw Cyril turn toward him, knife in hand.
“Hainard! Rolf!” Cyril cried, “Get up, kill him-”
Strangely, the man dropped where he was standing, just a couple of feet from Merlin. Gwaine glanced around for an archer or some other explanation, but there was none. Nevermind, it didn’t matter; he needed to take out the two other men before he could worry about anything else. The one that he had shoved now had his sword, but Gwaine couldn’t spot the other one anymore. Just as he braced himself to fight, he felt something behind him, turning just in time to see the other mercenary fly into a tree, dead.
Killing the third was easy. He could disarm a man in his sleep at this point.
The difficult part was coming to terms with what just happened. Nothing about it made sense; the only possible solution was giving him a headache to think about. Better to leave it for later. Besides, he had much more important affairs to worry about right now.
“Merlin!” Gwaine’s voice was raw with desperation as he ran to his friend. Merlin’s eyes were open, but barely, and it seemed as though his bonds were the only thing keeping him upright.
“Merlin, please speak to me. I need you to stay awake.” As carefully as possible, Gwaine started untying his friend, letting Merlin’s weight fall onto him as his restraints loosened. It took everything in him not to crumble himself as he gently laid his friend on the forest floor. Up close, the wounds were even more horrifying to look at, and Gwaine cursed himself that it took so long for him to step up.
“Tell me what to do. I can’t- I don’t know what to do.” Merlin didn’t stir beyond fluttering his eyes. “You’re the physician here, mate. I need you.”
He lightly shook Merlin, who finally responded by mumbling, “Are you hurt?”
Gwaine laughed. Not the kind of laugh he was used to doing around Merlin, but one of disbelief and exhaustion. Of course, his friend’s first question would be to ask after his own health.
“Yep, I’m hurt and I’m only going to get better if you wake up and tell me what to do.”
Without opening his eyes, Merlin muttered, “Stop the bleeding. There’s strips of cloth in my pack.”
As reluctant as he was to leave Merlin, even for a second, Gwaine knew that it was necessary. So he quickly made his way over to their discarded things and searched through Merlin’s bag. While he was searching he heard Merlin mumble something, and when he listened, it almost sounded like another language. That same unsettling feeling from earlier started creeping up on him again. He knew that there was only one explanation for what happened to the men. If his suspicions were true, it meant that Merlin was still in serious danger and Gwaine hated it when Merlin was in danger.
Still, he thought, it’s better to know the truth. At least then he could help protect Merlin if anyone else were to learn his secret.
Quickly, though with shaky hands, Gwaine set about packing Merlin’s wounds as best he could. The pressure must’ve hurt, but Merlin betrayed nothing as Gwaine set about his ministrations. Either he was hurt beyond feeling or he was trying to spare Gwaine’s feelings.
The situation was desperate. For all Gwaine knew, Merlin could do something about these wounds but didn’t want to expose himself in front of Gwaine. Moreover, this could be the last conversation Gwaine had with his friend, and he didn’t want it to be a lie.
“Mate, I don’t want you to worry, but I saw what you did earlier.”
So much for not worrying. Merlin immediately started struggling against Gwaine’s hands, trying to sit up. There was more fear on his face now then the whole time Cyril had been torturing him. Was Merlin really that scared of him? The idea of Merlin being scared of him - of hiding this secret from him for fear of Gwaine’s anger - it was heartbreaking.
“Merlin, calm down. Your magic saved us.” His friend was restless, though he had calmed down. “But please, Merlin, can it save you now?”
When he spoke, Merlin’s voice came out quiet and scratchy, “I’ve never been good at healing spells. Gaius told me it’s a wonder that I can be a physician and a warlock, but not good at healing spells.”
Merlin’s first full sentence was encouraging enough to make Gwaine chuckle, even though it wasn’t good news.
“Arthur should be coming through on a patrol a little west of here. He says there have been mercenary sightings around here. He was actually right for once.”
Merlin managed a wheezy laugh, and Gwaine couldn’t help but smile along with him.
“Is the man who was-” Gwaine couldn’t bring himself to say torturing you,” is that man dead?”
It was a few seconds before Merlin answered, and Gwaine saw a tear drop from the corner of his eye.
“No, he’s asleep. You should tie him up if you plan on leaving him for patrol to deal with; I don’t know when he’ll wake up.”
Good. A quick death would’ve been too easy for that disgusting menace. Gwaine was glad he would stand trial for his crimes - if he survived the knights first.
After tying up the man, checking that the other two were dead, and gathering their supplies, the only thing left to do was gather Merlin and start their trek west. If Merlin was right, they wouldn’t have far to go, but the plan still depended on the knights being at the right place and Merlin not bleeding out before they could get back to the castle.
Carrying Merlin - being this close to him - Gwaine could see all the marks that could’ve been his end, both old and new. Whatever this man had been through, it was clearly a miracle that he was still here. There had always been something special about Merlin. Being a knight only had purpose because serving Arthur meant that he was making Merlin happy. The manservant had been determined to go on every adventure, and even though Arthur made fun of him, everyone could see how brave and committed the man was. Some may say that having magic cheapened his acts of bravery, but Gwaine knew that the opposite was true. Merlin would only be committing treason in the heart of Camelot for a good reason, and Gwaine knew what - or who - that reason was.
It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of horses, but he was reluctant to clear the tree line with Merlin until he was sure it was the knights. If he had to fight, there was no way he was going to put his friend in danger again.
“Merls, I’m going to set you down here while I double-check that it’s our Princess on the other side of that ledge, okay?”
A small moan was the most he got out of the man as he set him down. In the few minutes it had taken for them to travel, Merlin had lost more of his color. Gwaine felt his throat tighten as he saw Merlin’s face bead with sweat and scrunch in pain. He needed catch the knights, but it was killing him to leave.
Before he could doubt any longer, the sound of hooves fading spurred Gwaine into motion. Quickly, he crept up to the edge of the ledge to scout the ravine below.
The sight of red cloaks had never been such a balm to him before. Even when he stepped on a twig and Leon pointed a crossbow at him, he had never felt happier.
Arthur, on the other hand, was his usual prattish self and was quick to start yelling.
“Gwaine! What in the hell are you doing up there? Leon could’ve shot you. He still could if he feels like it.”
The other knights chuckled, but Gwaine didn’t have time for any jokes.
“It doesn’t matter. Elyan, I need you to ride back to Gaius and tell him to prepare. The rest of you can ride up and around; we’re going to need horses.”
None of them moved. Some of them looked concerned, but they mostly looked confused. Elyan looked to Arthur, presumably to check his orders, but the rest of them didn’t move.
“Have you been drinking, Gwaine? I thought you were out here with Merlin…” Arthur’s face dropped from confusion to worry as soon as he thought about his manservant. In a low voice, bordering between fear and incredulity, Arthur asked, “Gwaine, where’s Merlin?”
“Please, just hurry.”
Gwaine’s voice broke, and it spurred the men into action. For a moment, he watched Elyan take off toward the citadel before turning back and ensuring that Merlin was okay.
“They’re coming, Merlin, they’re coming.” Resting his hand on Merlin’s cheek, Gwaine hoped to bring whatever comfort he could to his friend.
Instead of being reassured, Merlin stirred violently, “Please, don’t tell Arthur. Don’t tell Arthur.”
Before he could offer any alleviation, the knights appeared around the two of them.
“Tell me what?”
Gwaine sighed. Arthur had the worst timing. Luckily for Merlin, Gwaine had a lifetime of practice in coming up with the best stories.
He pulled his hand from Merlin’s face and stood to face Arthur. Pulling on his most believable and sympathetic voice, he said, “Merlin, the self-sacrificing idiot, doesn’t want you to know how bad his wounds are. He was planning on hiding them from you so you wouldn’t make a fuss.”
Whether or not Arthur believed him wasn’t clear because the second the King lay eyes Merlin, Gwaine could tell he was no longer listening. His brow furrowed and without delay, he jumped from his horse and knelt in front of Merlin.
“What happened? You two were just picking flowers, were you not?”
The other knights were having similar reactions; clearly, they had the same question.
“I will tell you everything once we get back to the castle. Right now, all you need to know is that he needs Gaius and that the man who did this is tied up a few minutes east of here.”
Arthur’s brow darkened as Gwaine mentioned the man to blame for the state of his manservant. Clearly, he had been focused on Merlin’s pain and had not even considered that there was someone responsible for it. He nodded to Leon, who took a couple of knights off in the direction that Gwaine pointed out.
“Sir, there is truly no time to waste. We need to leave.”
Merlin had not spoken another word, and he seemed lifeless as he was hoisted up to Arthur’s horse. That Gwaine could not bear him back to the castle himself was painful for the knight, but he knew that Arthur was the best choice. Still, as he rode back with another knight, he felt the effects of their separation. For the first time since the whole disaster started, there was no action necessary for Gwaine to take.
In his uselessness, Gwaine couldn’t help but focus on the horrifying events of the day. Merlin had been tortured, almost killed, and he had barely managed to do anything. Honestly, even their escape had been mainly Merlin’s doing. Gwaine had a few guesses why his friend had waited until the last second to do something, and neither of them sat right with him. If, no, when Merlin recovered, Gwaine would need to have a long talk with him for both of their sakes. However, until they got Merlin back to the citadel, back to Gaius, there was nothing more to be done, and it was killing him.