Work Text:
It shouldn't have even happened.
If Arthur had been more careful– if he'd just turned earlier, or moved his foot just an inch to the right–
Gods, this shouldn't have happened.
For a moment, all Arthur could do was stare. The bandits were gone. The fight was over. There was just one left– one dying bandit Arthur should've (hadn't) seen.
And… and Merlin had pushed him out of the way.
The sword had thrust forward with a fatal blow and-
“I'm fine,” Merlin croaked, words far too breathy. He leaned on a tree, one hand hovering at his side and the other gripping the bark hard.
It was like time itself had halted. Agonizingly.
Then all of a sudden, Arthur's hold on Excalibur slackened. The sword promptly hit the ground.
They'd faced so many battles together. So many beasts and monsters. This couldn't be it. This couldn't end like this.
His ears rang. “Merlin-”
Arthur grabbed at his manservant's shoulders, scanning down frantically. Merlin's skin was pale, his breathing irregular. He looked in pain. The sight made Arthur take in a sharp breath.
Merlin let out a shaky exhale, gesturing at his side limply.
“It's fine-”
“Don't talk,” Arthur ordered. His eyes stung, his hand tremored as it hung at Merlin's side. Merlin's blue tunic was soaked red. It clung to his skin terribly, the fabric damp and so, so red.
The metallic smell made Arthur's heart tear from its middle. The scent was unbearable and sickeningly sweet.
He'd smelt that scent before. On the battlefield, with deathly wounded knights crying out their final fears and promises. During wars, with brave men clutching at their bodies, lost to the river of life and death.
“You're fine,” Arthur said. “You're okay. Merlin, you'll be okay.”
He tried not to let the last part sound too much like a plea. Arthur eased Merlin down to the grass, eyes fixated on the crimson blood. It was dripping onto the grass, staining its bright colour everywhere.
“I know,” Merlin huffed, eyes pressed shut from pain. “That's what I'm… trying to tell you-”
Arthur compiled all his will together and pressed his hand on the wound, quick.
Merlin's sentence stuttered to a gasp, his body going rigid and eyes shutting tightly. Then, Merlin's head lolled and fell onto Arthur's collarbone, sweaty and weak.
“I'm sorry-” Arthur pulled Merlin's neckerchief off with his other hand. “-I'm sorry. Don't go. It'll be okay. Please.”
Arthur wasn't sure what was coming out of his mouth. Desperate, broken words that hardly sounded like they came from his voice pummeled out of him. He was supposed to be protecting Merlin, not the other way around. Merlin should not be bleeding.
They were too far to reach Camelot in less than half a dozen candle marks, Arthur realized with a pang. And Merlin needed Gaius, not him.
Arthur pressed the cloth over the bleeding, willing the blood to just stay in place.
The warmth of the blood burnt his hand.
Tears fell under his jaw. Arthur couldn't bring himself to notice them. Merlin wouldn't die. He couldn't die like this. Not now, nor ever.
Through the daze, Merlin's shaky hand reached up against Arthur's neck. “Arthur, listen-”
“I can't lose you.”
Merlin's hand stilled, his eyes widening.
Arthur was positively crying now. It should've been embarrassing– something in the back of his head was telling him to stop. This wasn't how a prince should behave. And yet–
“I can't lose you,” Arthur continued. He applied more pressure, vision blurring again when Merlin gasped because of it. “You can't die like this. I can't let you. Please, Merlin. Please…”
He held Merlin close. “I can't bear to lose you."
Merlin couldn't die like this.
A beat passed, then another. Arthur steeled himself together, ready to haul his manservant up and carry him to Gaius’ chambers. Damn the distance, he'd make it. But then–
“Arthur, I haven't been stabbed.”
…
Arthur paused, then pulled back enough to properly look at Merlin's face. Because, what?
Merlin's eyes were pained, yes, but not closing. His words were still coherent. His head swayed dizzy, but not enough to collapse.
“What?” Arthur whispered. Merlin huffed a small laugh and adjusted his position, wincing.
“The sword didn't pierce through Arthur,” Merlin reassured. His breaths were only just uneven. “It sliced me, yes. But it's‐ it's not fatal. Just a bit deeper than I'd have hoped.”
He smiled sheepishly, expression apologetic. Arthur felt the world tilt upright again.
“You'll be okay,” Arthur realized. This time, it sounded like truth and relief. “You'll be okay!”
To his own shock and Merlin's, Arthur embraced his manservant wholly. He laughed, arms tight and nose brushing silky dark hair.
And then the moment froze and died.
Arthur jolted back, startled at his own actions. Everything he'd said. He'd just- he'd just hugged Merlin.
Oh, no.
Merlin stared again. His mouth was parted in surprise, eyes glinting in an emotion Arthur didn't understand.
Arthur cleared his throat and looked to the ground with a focus not usually reserved for staring at grass blades.
“Okay. Good,” Arthur stated. He forced his gaze onto Merlin's side and reached to lift the tunic. “That would have been immensely inconvenient.”
Although he didn't look up, Arthur could feel the incredulous look on Merlin's face.
“Inconvenient?” Merlin repeated, “Oh well, I'm sorry. I wouldn't want to inconvenience the crowned prince of Camelot with my lousy death.”
Arthur's very soul hurt at the idea of Merlin... dying. He ignored it valiantly and started to help Merlin up to his feet.
The boy stumbled, groaned a bit, but otherwise made it. Merlin leaned on Arthur, who began to roll up Merlin's tunic to look at the damage.
Merlin was right. There was no hole, nor any fatal stab. Rather, a long, dark slice lined across Merlin's stomach and side. It shone against the sun terribly, and Arthur wanted to close his eyes at the sight.
“You'll ride on my horse,” Arthur decided. He placed one of Merlin's arms around his shoulder, allowing Merlin to lean most of his weight on him.
“I... Okay,” Merlin said. Arthur consciously didn't look up to see the look on Merlin's face.
They made it to the clearing with mild difficulty. Arthur shifted to hold Merlin in one of his arms, readying the saddle with the other. Merlin leaned back on Arthur's horse (which was looking at him as if it was concerned– maybe it was?) and watched him.
“Can't bear to lose me, huh?”
Arthur nearly stumbled straight into the horse's mane. He whipped his head to Merlin, trying to direct a glare sharp and annoyed, but Merlin's expression stopped him.
“I can't bear to lose you, either,” Merlin whispered. The honesty and openness knocked the life out of Arthur. He gaped at Merlin dumbly.
Merlin, who was watching him with eyes so soft and loyal and–
Arthur scoffed and turned back. “Well, I'm not as easy to kill as you are.”
“I am not ‘easy to kill'!” Merlin objected. He clumsily pointed one finger to Arthur's chest. “Need I remind you that nearly all of Albion's worst enemies try to have you killed, not me.”
“And yet,” Arthur said, holding Merlin's wrist to bring him closer. “I'm still alive. It just goes to show how great of a knight I really am.”
Arthur ignored the (adorably) baffled look on Merlin's face and helped him near the horse. He also pointedly ignored the string of insults Merlin muttered as he helped his manservant mount the horse.
“You know–” Merlin panted, holding his side. “–you'd be dead by now if it wasn't for me!”
Yes. Absolutely. There wasn't a doubt about it.
“Ehh, that's debatable.”
His manservant's eyes widened into actual offence.
Arthur grinned as he sat behind Merlin, who swatted at his head rudely, and took the reins in his hands.
As the journey went on, Arthur became more and more grateful for putting Merlin on his horse rather than Merlin's own. It helped him calm down embarrassingly well to feel Merlin alive and firm against his touch.
Though, if Merlin noticed the way Arthur held him just a bit too close, he didn't say anything about it. Arthur really couldn't stop from smiling against Merlin's inky hair.
Because Merlin would be fine. So everything would be fine.
And honestly, Arthur would be lying if he said he didn't thank all of Albion the entire ride home.