It has been such a long time. I wrote this chapter a while back hopefully you like it.
"Gwaine, stay with Merlin," Arthur ordered, "Lancelot, over there now. We're going to have words and I don't want us to wake him."
Gwaine, fingers running over Merlin's scalp in a soothing motion, nodded seriously. He pulled Merlin gently over so that he wasn't laying with his face in his sick from moments ago. Merlin didn't stir, save to let out a soft sigh, eyebrows drawing together and body tensing in his sleep. Gwaine went back to rubbing the servant's head quietly, and quickly Merlin began to relax. As Lancelot walked over to where Arthur had pointed, the prince hesitated, unable, once again, to pull his eyes off of his favourite servant.
Arthur shook himself. He turned to follow Lancelot, towards the edge of the clearing. He glanced back more than once, gripped by the terrible fear that as soon as he turned away, Merlin would vanish once more. But, as he turned to face Lancelot, the fear disappeared, and anger quickly filled the hole it left behind.
"What happened?" Arthur demanded.
"He woke up," Lancelot said, pale in the darkness. "He was....confused. He wanted to know what had happened to him. I don't think he really remembers anything "
"Look at the state of him," Arthur said, his voice a low and angry hiss, "We're lucky he knows who he even is." Arthur pushed back the memory of Merlin weakly trying to get away, of how he hadn't known it was Arthur to begin with.
"Then," Lancelot continued, "He asked how long he'd been gone. It was when I told him that it had been two months...well. You saw what happened."
"Did it ever cross your mind that telling Merlin upsetting things like that when he's obviously confused might, I don't know, upset and confuse him?"
"Arthur," Lancelot said, "I didn't know that he would react that way. How could I have possibly known?"
Arthur knew the knight was right, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. "Lancelot," he growled, "If you do anything else to -"
"Excuse me if I'm speaking out of turn," Lancelot cut in, "But do you really have any right to be lecturing me on this?"
"You're the one who sent him into a panic attack," Arthur said, not bothering to try and push Lancelot back down into his place. After all, if he'd learnt anything the last two months, it was that listening to his knights was probably a good thing. But, still, when he'd been woken by Lancelot's calls, had looked over to find Gwaine crouched over on the other side of the fire with the two of them, seen the look on Merlin's face...he never wanted to see that again. Ever. And maybe Lancelot wasn't to blame, but right now, he was the next best thing.
"Maybe," said Lancelot, staring fiercely back at Arthur, "But this whole thing really isn't my fault, is it, Arthur?"
"What are you implying?"
"You know what I'm implying," Lancelot answered, eyes flashing, "If you hadn't -"
Elyan stepped between them, a hand of each of their chests, pushing them apart. Arthur hadn't even realized how close and in each other's faces they had gotten until the knight stood between them. "This isn't helping anyone, is it ? " Elyan said, "So stop."
Arthur and Lancelot glared at each other.
"Lancelot, Gwaine was supposed to relieve Percival from watch, but he's preoccupied at the moment, so you go and replace him," said Elyan, "And Arthur - you should really sleep. We've a long couple of days ahead of us if we're to get Merlin to Gaius."
At the mention of Merlin, the other two deflated. Lancelot slouched off to go take Percival's place. Arthur trudged back over to the fire, and lay down, with Elyan following him. Across the flames, he could see where Merlin was laying. Gwaine had tucked another cloak around him. All that was visible was the servant's face and matted, dirty hair and a single hand that had latched around Gwaine's ankle. Arthur couldn't look away. Merlin's skin seemed stretched, gaunt. Every inch of it was mottled with some sort of bruise or cut, his bottom lip split in multiple places.
And even though the rest of him was covered and out of sight, Arthur could still imagine, with painstaking clarity, how abused the rest of Merlin was.
He shut his eyes, and tried to force himself to go to sleep. It didn't work, for Lancelot's words - But this whole thing really isn't my fault, is it, Arthur? - kept bouncing around his head. His actual answer, unspoken, would respond to it every time it rose in his mind.
No , Arthur thought, it's mine.
I promise I will try and update more often. Leave a comment on what I can do to improve hope you liked this chapter
Grace x
