healing
Title: Healing
Author: mideltone_one
Warnings: Set some time after part 1
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Arthur gets injured, putting Merlin’s destiny in danger.
Disclaimer: The Merlin characters written about here belong to Shine and BBC Wales. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. All mistakes are mine.
Word Count: 4325
Author’s Note: I started writing this before episode 2 aired, so it’s set in an alternate universe where there’s some time between episodes 1 and 2. Not sure about the rating either - it may not be up to an NC-17.
Healing
The body was rushed into Gaius’s chamber by two young soldiers. They both had a look of fear on their faces, as if they were, or would be held, responsible for what had happened. The old man had his head in a manuscript when they first arrived, but once he realised what he was dealing with, he put it aside, and turned from bumbling elder into court physician. “Place him here”, he said, indicating the large oak table in the centre of the room. “Clear the things off it first.” One of the soldiers took the command to heart and in a fluid motion swept everything off the table crashing to the floor. The healer shook his head, muttering “that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
The table cleared, the body was laid on top of it. Gaius gritted his teeth and inspected it. “Get the prince’s manservant Merlin, here at once”, he said, giving the taller of the soldiers a hard stare. It was a technique that always worked well with those used to obeying blindly, and, as usual, it worked this time too. The other soldier seemed uncertain as to what he should do, so simply stood motionless. “You can wait outside too. No one is to come in except the King or Merlin. Is that clear?” A quick nod was followed by a quicker exit.
By the time Merlin arrived, the leg of prince Arthur’s breeches had been cut open up to the thigh, revealing a deep cut along the calf, together with a matching bump on the back of his head. “Ah”, said the physician, “You’re here at last. I need you to hold him down while I sew this closed again.” He motioned to the gaping red line running down the leg. “If I don’t stop the bleeding, we’ll have no heir. Even if I do, he may never walk again. That’s if he wakes up at all” It was fortunate for the prince that he failed to gain consciousness during the operation, and fortunate for Merlin that he managed to remain conscious. He’d never liked the sight of blood, and seeing the man he was destined to protect (if the dragon was to be believed) prone and injured made him feel faint. Not that he revealed any of this to his older companion.
Once Gaius had tied off the thread, and covered the ugly wound with a bandage, the two soldiers were called back into the room. “Take him back to the royal chambers” said Gaius, “and lay him face up on his bed. And mind you keep him flat. Merlin, wait a moment, I have some further instructions for you. You can catch them up shortly.” The boy waited as a couple of bottles of potions were gathered together, and handed to him. “Apply this one, on a bandage against the wound morning, noon, and night, and get him to swallow this one if he wakes up. It contains very strong ingredients to keep him drowsy. He may see or hear things that aren’t there - that quite normal. Aside from these, all we can do is wait, and hope that our prince recovers some of his former abilities. I trust you realise that none of this must be communicated to the court. King Uther will not thank either of us if reports of his boy’s enfeeblement begin to circulate.”
“You know that I know how to keep a secret” replied the boy.
“Yes”, said the older man in a drawn out, knowing way, “Now off you go. I don’t trust those two not to drop him on the way.” The young warlock hurried off to supervise.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first day was definitely the worst. Merlin had taken it upon himself to stay in the same room as his master, determined to be close by if a turn of events required his attention. For his part Arthur had been uncharacteristically undemanding, due mostly to his being unconscious. The application of the poultice had been difficult, because the wound was still quite raw, and the young warlock had had to stop many times and move away to prevent himself fainting or being sick. Following Gaius’s advice, he’d told the guards only to let the king, the physician, and himself into the room. The king’s visit had been extremely short, consisting of an entrance, a look of horror, the muttering of the words “I cannot bear another loss. I will not visit until he recovers”, and an exit.
Arthur had developed a fever, and was either unconscious, or awake and screaming in pain, with Merlin trying to force the potion from Gaius down his throat to calm him. Once the prince was unconscious again, left in the room, to all intents and purposes, by himself, he would continue reading through the magic book he had inherited. Under normal circumstances it would be madness to risk discovery by reading it so openly, but he reasoned that since the king would not return without an invitation, and Gaius was the only other person allowed in, he would be quite safe. Every so often the prince would groan, or roll his head, causing his manservant to lay the book aside and attend to him, before returning to the tome.
By the end of the day there had been no noticeable improvement. Merlin had decided to sleep in a side room in case he was needed, and had been about to take to his bed, when he had heard the call of the great dragon again. With his master so ill, he was inclined to ignore it, but he knew there would be no abatement to the calling. Tidying away the book, he made his way to the doorway. The guards were surprised to see him. “I need to consult with the physician” he said calmly, “Keep the door ajar, and if you hear anything check that he is safely on the bed. I won’t be long.” The guards looked slightly non-plussed at the addition to their duties, but before they could protest the boy was down the corridor, out of earshot.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“How am I to fulfil my destiny, if the man who forms its centre dies?” shouted Merlin into the cavern. The dragon swooped down from above, only betrayed by the clanking of its chain, and perched on the large rock before him.
“You have the power to repair him. You must simply find the courage to use it. Bravery comes in many forms.”
“But I don’t know any spells to heal.”
“There are such spells.”
“Where would I find them.”
“A healer heals.” The dragon flew off, leaving the young man, as ever, with many more unanswered questions.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After he had left the dragon’s cavern and dodged its guards, Merlin walked out into the castle courtyard. Recently this had been a blessed haven from the noise of the day. When he had first become the prince’s manservant he had longed for a break from his master’s constant prattle; the prince definitely liked the sound of his own voice, of that there could be denial. The young warlock had hated it. Coming from a small village, and being an only child, he had been shocked at the amount of noise one person could make. When he wasn’t spouting a load of what his servant considered utter rubbish, the prince was ordering him to do things that were simply pointless, or that he could just as easily do himself. Perhaps all royals were like that, but more probably he had been singled out to be matched to an idiot. He’d wondered what it required to alter one’s own destiny.
Now that there was no noise from Arthur he realised, with some surprise, that he missed the sound of his master’s voice. The more he turned it over in his head, the clearer it became. There was something between them. Not friendship - not yet at least - and not mutual admiration - he doubted what he thought was of any interest to the prince. Something, nonetheless, made him care about the fate of the boy back in the castle. Made him want him back to his former health. He was shocked to realise that he liked the sound of his name on those lips. But without a cure, he’d never hear it again. A series of images jumped into his head, of Arthur calling him over, taking hold of him, and kissing him passionately on the lips. They were disturbing images, not because he was horrified by them, more because he most definitely wasn’t. He realised he should get back, to check on his charge. Turning towards the castle everything became clear. The dragon must have been talking about Gaius’s book of spells. Of course. Somewhere in that collection of spells would be the one to cure Arthur.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Merlin rose late the next day. He had spent most of the night working through the book looking for a healing spell, and, just as his candle had reached its end he had found just the thing. In the margin somebody, probably Gaius himself, had written “Do not mix with other magic”, and further down “not working, come back to later.” The young warlock had decided it would have to work, and had slept better that night than the one before.
Searching around the room, he eventually found a fly, lying on its back, completely dead. There was a chance the spell wouldn’t work, but, he decided, one less fly in the world was no great sacrifice. He walked over to the bed, and made sure Arthur was not in any danger before beginning. Holding the book in one hand, he hesitantly recited the words of the spell. When he had completed them he double-checked the instructions before gently prodding the dead fly with his index finger. Nothing. Perhaps all the hesitations had damaged the flow of the magic. He tried again, more confidence in his voice this time, enjoying the feel of the words in his mouth, making himself believe in the possibility of what he was doing. The fly was prodded again, but remained resolutely dead. He closed the book and laid it on the bed. He would need to come up with another solution to revive his master, not to mention his destiny. Deep in thought, he absentmindedly swatted away the fly that was buzzing around his head. After a few seconds the penny dropped, and looking over to the windowsill that had been the fly’s resting place, he was delighted to see it clear. Now that he knew the spell worked, he would need to try it on larger creatures before putting it to its ultimate use. He picked up the book, and dashed out of the prince’s quarters.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“What are you doing?” asked Gwen, finding Merlin poking around behind the door to her mistress’s chambers.
“Oh, hello” he said, “I’m looking for dead or injured animals.” She gave him a knowing look, making him blush. “No, no, not for anything weird. I need them for an experiment … and that didn’t sound as strange inside my head.”
“Presumably because it was in the company of even stranger thoughts.”
“No. Honestly, it’s not for anything bad or dangerous.” He blushed again.
“If you say so” she replied, “I can’t stand here debating it with you now, I’ve got work to do.” She walked off. “Try the kitchens” she called over her shoulder, “or the midden pits.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the middle of the evening, Merlin had revived two rats, stopped a dog limping, and cured lameness in a small pony, all without being seen. For larger animals, or more complex injuries, the healing seemed to take longer, and he was under no illusion that when applied to his master there would be an instant return to health. He no longer needed the words written down for reference, as the shape of the spell was lodged in his mind. He had hurried back to his master’s chambers, and was now safely stashing the book safely in the side room he was sleeping in. Arthur lay on the bed no better than he had been two days ago when he was first brought inside. Gaius had said to wait, but there had been enough of that thought the young warlock. Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the bedchamber, determined to revive the man he’d hated, but now missed.
He strode over to the main door and swung it open. The two guards looked round. “There are to be no visitors until further notice” he said, in a voice that brooked no opposition. Two curt nods were returned. He closed the door and walked back to the bed. It was time. Time for him to fulfil his destiny; at least not end it early. Arthur was lying on the bed in the same clothes he’d been in when injured. Merlin made a mental note to change them once he had completed the spell, and to keep him subdued for a day or two to ensure he wasn’t able to see himself cured; their would be no way to explain it to him that didn’t result in a beheading. The bandage was removed from the ugly wound; Merlin had decided the spell would work best if there were direct contact with the wound, however much the thought turned his stomach.
The words came out steadily and fluently, having a beauty beyond that produced by their results. Any nerves Merlin had had vanished during the recital. As the last word left his lips, with a perfectly steady hand he ran his finger down the wound. As he had expected, there was no immediate reaction. He thought the prince looked slightly less pained, but decided he was imagining it. Just to be on the safe side he reapplied the poultice together with a new bandage, and got Arthur to swallow another dose of the ‘knockout’ potion, as he’d taken to calling it. He didn’t want him waking up in the middle of the night asking questions about why his leg was healing before his eyes - better that it was a fait accompli when he awoke. All the sweating, and the unchanged clothes meant the heir to the throne was starting to smell. The young warlock decided he would bathe him the next day. For now he would put him in a nightshirt, and let him rest.
Standing at the side of the bed, he laced his arms under the prince’s arms, and dragged him into a sitting position; this would make it easier to remove his jacket and shirt. He began unfastening the buckles on the jacket, but after having to stop three times to re-position its wearer who had fallen to one side, he decided an alternative was required. He slipped off his boots, and, having righted his charge, climbed onto the bed. It felt a little odd at first straddling the heir to the throne, his buttocks resting on the prince’s thighs, but he convinced himself it was the only way to do what he had to do.
It was certainly easier releasing Arthur’s garments like this, not that he moved any quicker. The warmth of the flesh under him was beginning to arouse him, and nothing he could think off would stop the process. “I was so innocent before I knew you” he muttered under his breath, “and just look at me now, undressing you and wishing you were doing it to me. I don’t suppose you ever will though - not while the Lady Morgana is around. Why settle for pottage when you can have steak?” The jacket was finally released. He leant the boy forward against his shoulder and pulled the jacket and shirt up to the neck. “You’re not helping so much”, he muttered to the lifeless prince. “Would it kill you to thank me with a kiss?” He chuckled as he played out more and more unlikely scenarios in his head.
Lent back against the pillows, Merlin took the time to admire the boy in front of him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen his master undressed before. Every time Arthur got out of the bath he’d make sure Merlin saw him, then laugh as the manservant blushed and hurried away. Now, though, there was no rushing off. The young warlock ran his fingers over the prince’s chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall, the warmth, the thrill of flesh touching flesh. He was getting bolder by the minute, running his finger down the line from neck to navel, then following the trail of hair that ended at the top of the breeches. “We’d better get these off” he said, trying to work out how that could be achieved. He found the knot keeping then fastened hidden under a buttoned down flap of fabric. As he released and loosened the cord, he spoke again. “I bet you’ve never thought about me doing this” he said, “I know you’d prefer it to be Lady Morgana, but I don’t think she’d lower herself to unlacing garments, even for a prince.” He glanced over at the window, and remembered why he was doing this. “We need to get a move on young man, it’s getting past your bedtime” he said jokingly. Raising himself, he climbed off the bed, his bare feet making contact with the cold stone floor. Wanting to prevent the cold travelling throughout his body he moved quickly, lifting the body with one hand and pulling the damaged breeches and under garments down with the other.
Arthur was too heavy to be held like this for long, and moments later the two of them were sprawled on the bed again. The growing hardness in Merlin’s groin was pressed into the prince’s stomach, and the heir’s face was half turned, half pressed into the warlock’s chest. Merlin straightened himself up again, and climbed off the bed. He quickly found his boots this time, and slipped them on. Having moved the clothes carefully over the bandage, he stepped back to admire the naked form in front of him. “I know you like to show off your body sir”, he said, “but it doesn’t feel right looking at you without you knowing it. If you were awake, you’d be telling me to get on with it … I wish you were awake.” He shook his head. If he was right the spell would be at work, and his prince would be back to normal within a few days.
He suddenly realised that he didn’t have a nightshirt at hand, and rushed over to the chest under the window to retrieve one. He hurried back to the naked prince, gathering up the hem of the garment to its neck as he went. “Let’s get you dressed for bed”, he murmured, placing it over the motionless head before him. Inserting arms into the correct sleeves without breaking them, or bending them in ways they weren’t supposed to go, proved to be a difficult but not insurmountable problem. Once the boy was fully covered, he was bounced down the mattress (it was surprisingly springy) until his head was level with the pillows. The next operation was to get him under the blanket instead of on top of it, as it was a distinctly colder night than the one before.
Eventually the prince was in position under the blanket, in his nightshirt, with his head on the pillow, and Merlin was exhausted. He staggered into his side room, and quickly pulled off his clothes. The room backed onto the fire, and whilst on a cold night it was comfortably snug, for the last few warmer nights it had be stiflingly hot. With the dip in temperature tonight he had considered moving his patient in here, to keep him warm, while he slept on the floor at the foot of the bed, but had decided that would be seen as an insult, so had abandoned the idea. He made one last check on the boy, who was as still as before. “Good night Arthur”, he whispered leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, “Put all you energies into getting well. There are plenty of people here willing you better … people who love you … people like … me.” A single tear rolled down his face, dripping onto the prince’s face. He wiped his eye, and the boy’s cheek before walking back to his own bed, leaving the door ajar. Within moments he fell into a deep sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Arthur woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He remembered being outside in the courtyard, then waking up in immense pain and someone pouring something bitter down his throat. It must be the middle of the night, and he was cold, but not in any pain. There was something slimy tied round his leg, which he decided he would have to remove. He pulled the nightshirt up to his hips, contorted himself just enough to push his leg out from under the blanket, and untied the bandage. As his eyes adjusted to the cloudless night he was able to make out some sort of paste on it, together with some lengths of thread. He gingerly ran his fingers along his calf; aside from the slime there was nothing wrong with it. He wiped it, and his fingers, clean with the bandage, and dropped the sticky mess on the floor. He felt fine, except for tiredness, so he pulled his leg back in and tried to get back to sleep.
The bed was large and cold, and after moving around it for some time, he decided there was no way he was going to get back to sleep. The soft sound of words coming from a side room caught his attention. ‘Why would anyone be in there?’ he wondered, as he quietly got up to investigate. As he got closer the words became clearer, and the speaker obvious - Merlin. “Arthur … please … be careful … love you … just wake up … kiss me.” The shock on the prince’s face very quickly turned into a smile; now that he knew his advances wouldn’t be rejected, or accepted through fear alone, he and his manservant could have some fun. He’d told the boy he knew there was something about him, but not how much it excited him. They’d have to be careful of course; if the king ever found out one, or possibly both, of them would be put to death. But nobody would think it odd if a prince spent hours locked away with his manservant.
“Merlin” he whispered as he un-tucked the blanket, “I’m cold in that big bed. You don’t mind if I cuddle up with you, do you?” The young warlock’s eyes were wide open as he heard the words, not that this was seen by anyone. His racing heart slowed slightly as he felt his master get into the bed. He was too tired to work out what was going on. All that could wait until the morning. Whatever way it resolved itself, at least he would have the night he shared his bed with Arthur as a memory.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Birdsong outside woke Merlin the next morning. That and a certain heir to the throne’s hand landing oh his shoulder. The young warlock was suddenly wide-awake; the events of last night had not been a dream after all. He turned over in the bed that now seemed ridiculously small, and tried to move himself as far away from his master as possible. Obviously the magic had worked a treat. Arthur had been conscious, and had walked in here unaided. That was the good news. On the other hand, his master was in his bed, and once he woke he might start asking some very difficult questions.
If the young warlock was hoping for some time to consider his replies he was out of luck. Moments later the prince opened his eyes and looked straight at him. “What happened?”
“You were injured during a practice fight, and brought back here after the physician saw you.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three days ago.”
“And who took care of me?”
“I did. Do you feel alright?”
Arthur stretched his arm out from under the blanket making a fist in the air. “I feel fantastic” he said, “I can’t remember the last time I felt so well. All my aches and pains have vanished.” Merlin realised the spell had acted as a cure-all, fixing everything that was wrong.
“If you’re wondering why I’m here” said Arthur, “I woke up in the night feeling cold, and your room was warm, so I got in with you. You don’t mind do you?”
“Of course not, sir.”
“You’re naked, I’m just in a nightshirt, and we’re in your bed. I think we can leave the ‘sirs’ behind.”
“Of course si - of course.”
“Did you know you speak in your sleep?”
The manservant swallowed. Who knew what he’d revealed, what trouble he was in? “No? Did anything make sense?”
“The only things I could make out clearly were ‘Arthur’, ‘love you’ and ‘kiss me’.”
Merlin flushed red with embarrassment. “I must have been dreaming about one of the serving girls” he said, not entirely convincingly.
“Oh. That’s a shame. You see I’ve never kissed a boy before … and I was hoping …”
“You want to kiss me?”
“Well, not if you don’t want me to.”
“No no, I do.”
“Actually there’s a lot of things I want to do with you. I don’t suppose anyone would mind if I stayed in my chambers for another day, would they?”
Merlin grinned from ear to ear. “I’m sure one or two days would be fine. Now, can I ask what these other things you want to do are?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see”, said Arthur, with a matching broad grin.
To Be Continued …
Author: mideltone_one
Warnings: Set some time after part 1
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Arthur gets injured, putting Merlin’s destiny in danger.
Disclaimer: The Merlin characters written about here belong to Shine and BBC Wales. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. All mistakes are mine.
Word Count: 4325
Author’s Note: I started writing this before episode 2 aired, so it’s set in an alternate universe where there’s some time between episodes 1 and 2. Not sure about the rating either - it may not be up to an NC-17.
Healing
The body was rushed into Gaius’s chamber by two young soldiers. They both had a look of fear on their faces, as if they were, or would be held, responsible for what had happened. The old man had his head in a manuscript when they first arrived, but once he realised what he was dealing with, he put it aside, and turned from bumbling elder into court physician. “Place him here”, he said, indicating the large oak table in the centre of the room. “Clear the things off it first.” One of the soldiers took the command to heart and in a fluid motion swept everything off the table crashing to the floor. The healer shook his head, muttering “that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
The table cleared, the body was laid on top of it. Gaius gritted his teeth and inspected it. “Get the prince’s manservant Merlin, here at once”, he said, giving the taller of the soldiers a hard stare. It was a technique that always worked well with those used to obeying blindly, and, as usual, it worked this time too. The other soldier seemed uncertain as to what he should do, so simply stood motionless. “You can wait outside too. No one is to come in except the King or Merlin. Is that clear?” A quick nod was followed by a quicker exit.
By the time Merlin arrived, the leg of prince Arthur’s breeches had been cut open up to the thigh, revealing a deep cut along the calf, together with a matching bump on the back of his head. “Ah”, said the physician, “You’re here at last. I need you to hold him down while I sew this closed again.” He motioned to the gaping red line running down the leg. “If I don’t stop the bleeding, we’ll have no heir. Even if I do, he may never walk again. That’s if he wakes up at all” It was fortunate for the prince that he failed to gain consciousness during the operation, and fortunate for Merlin that he managed to remain conscious. He’d never liked the sight of blood, and seeing the man he was destined to protect (if the dragon was to be believed) prone and injured made him feel faint. Not that he revealed any of this to his older companion.
Once Gaius had tied off the thread, and covered the ugly wound with a bandage, the two soldiers were called back into the room. “Take him back to the royal chambers” said Gaius, “and lay him face up on his bed. And mind you keep him flat. Merlin, wait a moment, I have some further instructions for you. You can catch them up shortly.” The boy waited as a couple of bottles of potions were gathered together, and handed to him. “Apply this one, on a bandage against the wound morning, noon, and night, and get him to swallow this one if he wakes up. It contains very strong ingredients to keep him drowsy. He may see or hear things that aren’t there - that quite normal. Aside from these, all we can do is wait, and hope that our prince recovers some of his former abilities. I trust you realise that none of this must be communicated to the court. King Uther will not thank either of us if reports of his boy’s enfeeblement begin to circulate.”
“You know that I know how to keep a secret” replied the boy.
“Yes”, said the older man in a drawn out, knowing way, “Now off you go. I don’t trust those two not to drop him on the way.” The young warlock hurried off to supervise.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The first day was definitely the worst. Merlin had taken it upon himself to stay in the same room as his master, determined to be close by if a turn of events required his attention. For his part Arthur had been uncharacteristically undemanding, due mostly to his being unconscious. The application of the poultice had been difficult, because the wound was still quite raw, and the young warlock had had to stop many times and move away to prevent himself fainting or being sick. Following Gaius’s advice, he’d told the guards only to let the king, the physician, and himself into the room. The king’s visit had been extremely short, consisting of an entrance, a look of horror, the muttering of the words “I cannot bear another loss. I will not visit until he recovers”, and an exit.
Arthur had developed a fever, and was either unconscious, or awake and screaming in pain, with Merlin trying to force the potion from Gaius down his throat to calm him. Once the prince was unconscious again, left in the room, to all intents and purposes, by himself, he would continue reading through the magic book he had inherited. Under normal circumstances it would be madness to risk discovery by reading it so openly, but he reasoned that since the king would not return without an invitation, and Gaius was the only other person allowed in, he would be quite safe. Every so often the prince would groan, or roll his head, causing his manservant to lay the book aside and attend to him, before returning to the tome.
By the end of the day there had been no noticeable improvement. Merlin had decided to sleep in a side room in case he was needed, and had been about to take to his bed, when he had heard the call of the great dragon again. With his master so ill, he was inclined to ignore it, but he knew there would be no abatement to the calling. Tidying away the book, he made his way to the doorway. The guards were surprised to see him. “I need to consult with the physician” he said calmly, “Keep the door ajar, and if you hear anything check that he is safely on the bed. I won’t be long.” The guards looked slightly non-plussed at the addition to their duties, but before they could protest the boy was down the corridor, out of earshot.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“How am I to fulfil my destiny, if the man who forms its centre dies?” shouted Merlin into the cavern. The dragon swooped down from above, only betrayed by the clanking of its chain, and perched on the large rock before him.
“You have the power to repair him. You must simply find the courage to use it. Bravery comes in many forms.”
“But I don’t know any spells to heal.”
“There are such spells.”
“Where would I find them.”
“A healer heals.” The dragon flew off, leaving the young man, as ever, with many more unanswered questions.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After he had left the dragon’s cavern and dodged its guards, Merlin walked out into the castle courtyard. Recently this had been a blessed haven from the noise of the day. When he had first become the prince’s manservant he had longed for a break from his master’s constant prattle; the prince definitely liked the sound of his own voice, of that there could be denial. The young warlock had hated it. Coming from a small village, and being an only child, he had been shocked at the amount of noise one person could make. When he wasn’t spouting a load of what his servant considered utter rubbish, the prince was ordering him to do things that were simply pointless, or that he could just as easily do himself. Perhaps all royals were like that, but more probably he had been singled out to be matched to an idiot. He’d wondered what it required to alter one’s own destiny.
Now that there was no noise from Arthur he realised, with some surprise, that he missed the sound of his master’s voice. The more he turned it over in his head, the clearer it became. There was something between them. Not friendship - not yet at least - and not mutual admiration - he doubted what he thought was of any interest to the prince. Something, nonetheless, made him care about the fate of the boy back in the castle. Made him want him back to his former health. He was shocked to realise that he liked the sound of his name on those lips. But without a cure, he’d never hear it again. A series of images jumped into his head, of Arthur calling him over, taking hold of him, and kissing him passionately on the lips. They were disturbing images, not because he was horrified by them, more because he most definitely wasn’t. He realised he should get back, to check on his charge. Turning towards the castle everything became clear. The dragon must have been talking about Gaius’s book of spells. Of course. Somewhere in that collection of spells would be the one to cure Arthur.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Merlin rose late the next day. He had spent most of the night working through the book looking for a healing spell, and, just as his candle had reached its end he had found just the thing. In the margin somebody, probably Gaius himself, had written “Do not mix with other magic”, and further down “not working, come back to later.” The young warlock had decided it would have to work, and had slept better that night than the one before.
Searching around the room, he eventually found a fly, lying on its back, completely dead. There was a chance the spell wouldn’t work, but, he decided, one less fly in the world was no great sacrifice. He walked over to the bed, and made sure Arthur was not in any danger before beginning. Holding the book in one hand, he hesitantly recited the words of the spell. When he had completed them he double-checked the instructions before gently prodding the dead fly with his index finger. Nothing. Perhaps all the hesitations had damaged the flow of the magic. He tried again, more confidence in his voice this time, enjoying the feel of the words in his mouth, making himself believe in the possibility of what he was doing. The fly was prodded again, but remained resolutely dead. He closed the book and laid it on the bed. He would need to come up with another solution to revive his master, not to mention his destiny. Deep in thought, he absentmindedly swatted away the fly that was buzzing around his head. After a few seconds the penny dropped, and looking over to the windowsill that had been the fly’s resting place, he was delighted to see it clear. Now that he knew the spell worked, he would need to try it on larger creatures before putting it to its ultimate use. He picked up the book, and dashed out of the prince’s quarters.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“What are you doing?” asked Gwen, finding Merlin poking around behind the door to her mistress’s chambers.
“Oh, hello” he said, “I’m looking for dead or injured animals.” She gave him a knowing look, making him blush. “No, no, not for anything weird. I need them for an experiment … and that didn’t sound as strange inside my head.”
“Presumably because it was in the company of even stranger thoughts.”
“No. Honestly, it’s not for anything bad or dangerous.” He blushed again.
“If you say so” she replied, “I can’t stand here debating it with you now, I’ve got work to do.” She walked off. “Try the kitchens” she called over her shoulder, “or the midden pits.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the middle of the evening, Merlin had revived two rats, stopped a dog limping, and cured lameness in a small pony, all without being seen. For larger animals, or more complex injuries, the healing seemed to take longer, and he was under no illusion that when applied to his master there would be an instant return to health. He no longer needed the words written down for reference, as the shape of the spell was lodged in his mind. He had hurried back to his master’s chambers, and was now safely stashing the book safely in the side room he was sleeping in. Arthur lay on the bed no better than he had been two days ago when he was first brought inside. Gaius had said to wait, but there had been enough of that thought the young warlock. Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the bedchamber, determined to revive the man he’d hated, but now missed.
He strode over to the main door and swung it open. The two guards looked round. “There are to be no visitors until further notice” he said, in a voice that brooked no opposition. Two curt nods were returned. He closed the door and walked back to the bed. It was time. Time for him to fulfil his destiny; at least not end it early. Arthur was lying on the bed in the same clothes he’d been in when injured. Merlin made a mental note to change them once he had completed the spell, and to keep him subdued for a day or two to ensure he wasn’t able to see himself cured; their would be no way to explain it to him that didn’t result in a beheading. The bandage was removed from the ugly wound; Merlin had decided the spell would work best if there were direct contact with the wound, however much the thought turned his stomach.
The words came out steadily and fluently, having a beauty beyond that produced by their results. Any nerves Merlin had had vanished during the recital. As the last word left his lips, with a perfectly steady hand he ran his finger down the wound. As he had expected, there was no immediate reaction. He thought the prince looked slightly less pained, but decided he was imagining it. Just to be on the safe side he reapplied the poultice together with a new bandage, and got Arthur to swallow another dose of the ‘knockout’ potion, as he’d taken to calling it. He didn’t want him waking up in the middle of the night asking questions about why his leg was healing before his eyes - better that it was a fait accompli when he awoke. All the sweating, and the unchanged clothes meant the heir to the throne was starting to smell. The young warlock decided he would bathe him the next day. For now he would put him in a nightshirt, and let him rest.
Standing at the side of the bed, he laced his arms under the prince’s arms, and dragged him into a sitting position; this would make it easier to remove his jacket and shirt. He began unfastening the buckles on the jacket, but after having to stop three times to re-position its wearer who had fallen to one side, he decided an alternative was required. He slipped off his boots, and, having righted his charge, climbed onto the bed. It felt a little odd at first straddling the heir to the throne, his buttocks resting on the prince’s thighs, but he convinced himself it was the only way to do what he had to do.
It was certainly easier releasing Arthur’s garments like this, not that he moved any quicker. The warmth of the flesh under him was beginning to arouse him, and nothing he could think off would stop the process. “I was so innocent before I knew you” he muttered under his breath, “and just look at me now, undressing you and wishing you were doing it to me. I don’t suppose you ever will though - not while the Lady Morgana is around. Why settle for pottage when you can have steak?” The jacket was finally released. He leant the boy forward against his shoulder and pulled the jacket and shirt up to the neck. “You’re not helping so much”, he muttered to the lifeless prince. “Would it kill you to thank me with a kiss?” He chuckled as he played out more and more unlikely scenarios in his head.
Lent back against the pillows, Merlin took the time to admire the boy in front of him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen his master undressed before. Every time Arthur got out of the bath he’d make sure Merlin saw him, then laugh as the manservant blushed and hurried away. Now, though, there was no rushing off. The young warlock ran his fingers over the prince’s chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall, the warmth, the thrill of flesh touching flesh. He was getting bolder by the minute, running his finger down the line from neck to navel, then following the trail of hair that ended at the top of the breeches. “We’d better get these off” he said, trying to work out how that could be achieved. He found the knot keeping then fastened hidden under a buttoned down flap of fabric. As he released and loosened the cord, he spoke again. “I bet you’ve never thought about me doing this” he said, “I know you’d prefer it to be Lady Morgana, but I don’t think she’d lower herself to unlacing garments, even for a prince.” He glanced over at the window, and remembered why he was doing this. “We need to get a move on young man, it’s getting past your bedtime” he said jokingly. Raising himself, he climbed off the bed, his bare feet making contact with the cold stone floor. Wanting to prevent the cold travelling throughout his body he moved quickly, lifting the body with one hand and pulling the damaged breeches and under garments down with the other.
Arthur was too heavy to be held like this for long, and moments later the two of them were sprawled on the bed again. The growing hardness in Merlin’s groin was pressed into the prince’s stomach, and the heir’s face was half turned, half pressed into the warlock’s chest. Merlin straightened himself up again, and climbed off the bed. He quickly found his boots this time, and slipped them on. Having moved the clothes carefully over the bandage, he stepped back to admire the naked form in front of him. “I know you like to show off your body sir”, he said, “but it doesn’t feel right looking at you without you knowing it. If you were awake, you’d be telling me to get on with it … I wish you were awake.” He shook his head. If he was right the spell would be at work, and his prince would be back to normal within a few days.
He suddenly realised that he didn’t have a nightshirt at hand, and rushed over to the chest under the window to retrieve one. He hurried back to the naked prince, gathering up the hem of the garment to its neck as he went. “Let’s get you dressed for bed”, he murmured, placing it over the motionless head before him. Inserting arms into the correct sleeves without breaking them, or bending them in ways they weren’t supposed to go, proved to be a difficult but not insurmountable problem. Once the boy was fully covered, he was bounced down the mattress (it was surprisingly springy) until his head was level with the pillows. The next operation was to get him under the blanket instead of on top of it, as it was a distinctly colder night than the one before.
Eventually the prince was in position under the blanket, in his nightshirt, with his head on the pillow, and Merlin was exhausted. He staggered into his side room, and quickly pulled off his clothes. The room backed onto the fire, and whilst on a cold night it was comfortably snug, for the last few warmer nights it had be stiflingly hot. With the dip in temperature tonight he had considered moving his patient in here, to keep him warm, while he slept on the floor at the foot of the bed, but had decided that would be seen as an insult, so had abandoned the idea. He made one last check on the boy, who was as still as before. “Good night Arthur”, he whispered leaning down to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, “Put all you energies into getting well. There are plenty of people here willing you better … people who love you … people like … me.” A single tear rolled down his face, dripping onto the prince’s face. He wiped his eye, and the boy’s cheek before walking back to his own bed, leaving the door ajar. Within moments he fell into a deep sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Arthur woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. He remembered being outside in the courtyard, then waking up in immense pain and someone pouring something bitter down his throat. It must be the middle of the night, and he was cold, but not in any pain. There was something slimy tied round his leg, which he decided he would have to remove. He pulled the nightshirt up to his hips, contorted himself just enough to push his leg out from under the blanket, and untied the bandage. As his eyes adjusted to the cloudless night he was able to make out some sort of paste on it, together with some lengths of thread. He gingerly ran his fingers along his calf; aside from the slime there was nothing wrong with it. He wiped it, and his fingers, clean with the bandage, and dropped the sticky mess on the floor. He felt fine, except for tiredness, so he pulled his leg back in and tried to get back to sleep.
The bed was large and cold, and after moving around it for some time, he decided there was no way he was going to get back to sleep. The soft sound of words coming from a side room caught his attention. ‘Why would anyone be in there?’ he wondered, as he quietly got up to investigate. As he got closer the words became clearer, and the speaker obvious - Merlin. “Arthur … please … be careful … love you … just wake up … kiss me.” The shock on the prince’s face very quickly turned into a smile; now that he knew his advances wouldn’t be rejected, or accepted through fear alone, he and his manservant could have some fun. He’d told the boy he knew there was something about him, but not how much it excited him. They’d have to be careful of course; if the king ever found out one, or possibly both, of them would be put to death. But nobody would think it odd if a prince spent hours locked away with his manservant.
“Merlin” he whispered as he un-tucked the blanket, “I’m cold in that big bed. You don’t mind if I cuddle up with you, do you?” The young warlock’s eyes were wide open as he heard the words, not that this was seen by anyone. His racing heart slowed slightly as he felt his master get into the bed. He was too tired to work out what was going on. All that could wait until the morning. Whatever way it resolved itself, at least he would have the night he shared his bed with Arthur as a memory.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Birdsong outside woke Merlin the next morning. That and a certain heir to the throne’s hand landing oh his shoulder. The young warlock was suddenly wide-awake; the events of last night had not been a dream after all. He turned over in the bed that now seemed ridiculously small, and tried to move himself as far away from his master as possible. Obviously the magic had worked a treat. Arthur had been conscious, and had walked in here unaided. That was the good news. On the other hand, his master was in his bed, and once he woke he might start asking some very difficult questions.
If the young warlock was hoping for some time to consider his replies he was out of luck. Moments later the prince opened his eyes and looked straight at him. “What happened?”
“You were injured during a practice fight, and brought back here after the physician saw you.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three days ago.”
“And who took care of me?”
“I did. Do you feel alright?”
Arthur stretched his arm out from under the blanket making a fist in the air. “I feel fantastic” he said, “I can’t remember the last time I felt so well. All my aches and pains have vanished.” Merlin realised the spell had acted as a cure-all, fixing everything that was wrong.
“If you’re wondering why I’m here” said Arthur, “I woke up in the night feeling cold, and your room was warm, so I got in with you. You don’t mind do you?”
“Of course not, sir.”
“You’re naked, I’m just in a nightshirt, and we’re in your bed. I think we can leave the ‘sirs’ behind.”
“Of course si - of course.”
“Did you know you speak in your sleep?”
The manservant swallowed. Who knew what he’d revealed, what trouble he was in? “No? Did anything make sense?”
“The only things I could make out clearly were ‘Arthur’, ‘love you’ and ‘kiss me’.”
Merlin flushed red with embarrassment. “I must have been dreaming about one of the serving girls” he said, not entirely convincingly.
“Oh. That’s a shame. You see I’ve never kissed a boy before … and I was hoping …”
“You want to kiss me?”
“Well, not if you don’t want me to.”
“No no, I do.”
“Actually there’s a lot of things I want to do with you. I don’t suppose anyone would mind if I stayed in my chambers for another day, would they?”
Merlin grinned from ear to ear. “I’m sure one or two days would be fine. Now, can I ask what these other things you want to do are?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see”, said Arthur, with a matching broad grin.
To Be Continued …