Fic: The 25th and 26th Times
Title: The 25th and 26th Times
Author: vensre
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Written before series 2 aired.
Wordcount: 1377
Summary: Arthur tries not to look too closely when he is defended by magic.
Notes: From magog_83's prompt: What the Knights saw... and she has graciously lent me Sir Percy to be a witness. Thanks to themadlurker for the beta.
If you prefer, read it at AOOO.
"Ow," said Arthur. He remembered his hands were messy only barely in time to stop himself from rubbing the spot in his mid-back that had twinged unexpectedly. Twisting around, he saw no cause, and went back to cleaning one of the rabbits for cooking. Beside him Gareth stooped to pick up something off the ground; Arthur wasn't paying that much attention until-
"To arms!" Gareth bellowed, drawing his sword as he straightened up, placing himself at Arthur's back. The other knights reacted at once, and Arthur jumped up and turned as well. Merlin, the silly ass, showed up at his shoulder, looking alertly all around, and everyone else in the camp formed an outward-facing ring.
"What did you see?" Arthur demanded, trying to put on his serious-but-calm voice.
Wordlessly Gareth held up an unfamiliar blade, a truly wicked-looking throwing knife. Confusion was followed quickly by a twist of dread; Arthur dropped the half-prepared rabbit on the plank and disregarded the gore on his hands to reach back to the brief sting he had felt. Merlin stopped his hands, and touched Arthur's back himself, poking a finger through the new gash in Arthur's leather armour and the hole in the cloth below, brushing his fingertip over the unmarred skin beneath. Arthur shooed him away and signed to Percy and Geraint, who were fast on their feet and standing near, towards the wooded bank. They promptly complied, heading into the cover of the trees with swords ready. The rest crowded closer.
"Did it bounce off?" Safir said, sounding quite excited by the idea.
"Of course not," Meurig muttered, and three other knights started talking at once, so they all nearly missed the sound the second knife made, deflected from its deadly course toward the side of Arthur's throat by a sudden crackle of blue energy. It spun away and thudded into one of the half-logs the knights had set aside to sit on.
"In the trees!" cried Kay, pointing out the trajectory, and five knights were already scrambling for their bows by the time Arthur ordered it.
Arthur cursed and elbowed Merlin, snapping, "Get in the tent. Now." And, "This is really not the time to test me," when Merlin made no move toward the relative safety of one of the tents. Arthur turned to him, perfectly willing to get gummy rabbit remnants all over Merlin's jacket if that's what it took to steer him inside, but the look on Merlin's face gave him pause. His skin was almost sickly pale, but his eyes were fierce and his jaw absolutely stubborn.
"Fine. Find a sword, then. Take my spare." Merlin obeyed him in that at least, moving quickly to Arthur's gear, then back again to his claimed position at Arthur's side even before the bowmen started firing, holding the sword low as Arthur had taught him in hopes of reducing the likeliness of self-inflicted stab wounds. Arthur wiped his hands on his trousers and whistled shrilly to alert Geraint and Percy to the continued threat to the camp, then drew his own sword as the first volley of arrows was loosed toward the treetops.
Merlin tensed beside him as a third knife flew, but it missed Arthur by a wide margin to hit packed dirt, rebounded, and landed in the fire. A moment later the figure of a man toppled out of the tree with a final-sounding crunch and lay still by the bank.
"Gareth, take three men and ride. Find out if he was alone, and send the scouts back." Arthur dispatched them to their mounts with a nod, then approached the fallen assassin with due caution, allowing Kay to interpose himself and inspect the body first.
"He wears no colours. A mercenary or a coward!" Kay scowled.
"I think we passed this fellow on the road," Dinadan put in consideringly. "On horseback, him and another bloke."
"So we were followed," Arthur said. He stood, satisfied that this attacker wouldn't trouble them further. Even as the riding party was mounting up, the two knights reappeared through the trees, Geraint leading an unfamiliar horse that pranced and rolled its eyes with alarm.
"There was another waiting in the woods," Percy was saying as Merlin took the horse's reins from Geraint, calming it in that way he had. "I'm sorry, Sire, he fled."
"Not before Percy got him in the back of the head with a river stone!" Geraint said with relish, and nearly everybody grinned at Percy, who seemed to be embarrassed by his spur-of-the-moment choice of projectile.
"Well done, Sir Percival," Arthur said, keeping a carefully straight face when Percy grew even more flustered at the praise. "With any luck, that headache will slow him enough for Gareth's party to catch up."
He frowned at the unfinished preparations for their lunch, his patience for the task exhausted despite his usual view that cleaning their kills was part of the hunt itself. "Can someone else-"
"I'll take care of it, Sire," Dinadan stepped in, tugging off his gloves to pick up where Arthur had left off with the rabbits before the attempt. Relieved, Arthur nodded to him and made promptly for the stream to wash, two of his men crossing ahead of him to keep watch upriver. Merlin had apparently secured the assassin's horse; he came to the riverside too at Arthur's heels, then stood about doing nothing while Arthur scrubbed the worst of the remaining mess off his hands. Arthur looked at him expectantly, but he failed to produce soap or even realise it might be welcome. But at least Merlin was looking better.
Apparently Merlin had no trouble interpreting Arthur's staring as a concerned query. "I'm okay," he said, smiling. "You?"
"Fine, why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, I don't know, Arthur, how about random people showing up in the middle of the woods to try to kill you?"
"You mean you're not used to that yet?" Arthur asked, amused by the exasperated slant of Merlin's mouth. "At least this was probably only political, and not some kind of mad revenge scheme."
"And... what about the knives? You know."
"What about them?" Arthur watched Merlin's eyes, trying to gauge his reaction as he spoke. "Merlin, I'm surrounded here by people I trust. If one of my men puts himself at risk to help me or mine, it is my duty to see that his protection doesn't land him in worse trouble than what he shielded me from. As far as I can. Do you understand?"
Merlin sighed, and nodded, his eyes gone soft and adoring in a look Arthur only rarely witnessed, and mostly when Merlin didn't know Arthur could see. It clearly wasn't any discomfort with sorcery that had him scared earlier, although that was hardly a surprise. Arthur wondered idly whether it was more the threat posed by the assassin that had put the tension in his friend's face, or worry for the one defending Arthur.
"I trust," he added, already sure but still needing Merlin's confirmation, "that you'll say nothing of this. To anyone."
"Of course," Merlin said immediately, and smiled that blinding smile.
"Now, did you bring the tools you'd need to patch my cuirass? I have to go have this exact conversation again with Sir Safir."
"I should be able to," Merlin said, and went for the fastenings without hesitation. "So you don't wonder who defended you?" he enquired as he stripped the punctured armour off.
"Better for him that I don't." Kay, perhaps. Kay had always been a bit too intrigued by the forbidden. It had been work keeping him out of serious trouble when they were younger. Or it could even have been Safir, new to Camelot and recklessly enthusiastic as he was, although the young man's exclamation of surprise hadn't seemed feigned. Or, possibly...
He looked to Merlin, who was distracted now, Arthur's leather armour dangling from his hands. The ever-present neckerchief was askew, the knot resting on one side of his neck, and his head tilted back to track the movement of a heron flying overhead. Arthur smirked at him fondly before turning to cross the small encampment, reminding himself not to wonder too much. Arthur could accept that he might never know for certain. Unless he someday did.
Author: vensre
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Written before series 2 aired.
Wordcount: 1377
Summary: Arthur tries not to look too closely when he is defended by magic.
Notes: From magog_83's prompt: What the Knights saw... and she has graciously lent me Sir Percy to be a witness. Thanks to themadlurker for the beta.
If you prefer, read it at AOOO.
"Ow," said Arthur. He remembered his hands were messy only barely in time to stop himself from rubbing the spot in his mid-back that had twinged unexpectedly. Twisting around, he saw no cause, and went back to cleaning one of the rabbits for cooking. Beside him Gareth stooped to pick up something off the ground; Arthur wasn't paying that much attention until-
"To arms!" Gareth bellowed, drawing his sword as he straightened up, placing himself at Arthur's back. The other knights reacted at once, and Arthur jumped up and turned as well. Merlin, the silly ass, showed up at his shoulder, looking alertly all around, and everyone else in the camp formed an outward-facing ring.
"What did you see?" Arthur demanded, trying to put on his serious-but-calm voice.
Wordlessly Gareth held up an unfamiliar blade, a truly wicked-looking throwing knife. Confusion was followed quickly by a twist of dread; Arthur dropped the half-prepared rabbit on the plank and disregarded the gore on his hands to reach back to the brief sting he had felt. Merlin stopped his hands, and touched Arthur's back himself, poking a finger through the new gash in Arthur's leather armour and the hole in the cloth below, brushing his fingertip over the unmarred skin beneath. Arthur shooed him away and signed to Percy and Geraint, who were fast on their feet and standing near, towards the wooded bank. They promptly complied, heading into the cover of the trees with swords ready. The rest crowded closer.
"Did it bounce off?" Safir said, sounding quite excited by the idea.
"Of course not," Meurig muttered, and three other knights started talking at once, so they all nearly missed the sound the second knife made, deflected from its deadly course toward the side of Arthur's throat by a sudden crackle of blue energy. It spun away and thudded into one of the half-logs the knights had set aside to sit on.
"In the trees!" cried Kay, pointing out the trajectory, and five knights were already scrambling for their bows by the time Arthur ordered it.
Arthur cursed and elbowed Merlin, snapping, "Get in the tent. Now." And, "This is really not the time to test me," when Merlin made no move toward the relative safety of one of the tents. Arthur turned to him, perfectly willing to get gummy rabbit remnants all over Merlin's jacket if that's what it took to steer him inside, but the look on Merlin's face gave him pause. His skin was almost sickly pale, but his eyes were fierce and his jaw absolutely stubborn.
"Fine. Find a sword, then. Take my spare." Merlin obeyed him in that at least, moving quickly to Arthur's gear, then back again to his claimed position at Arthur's side even before the bowmen started firing, holding the sword low as Arthur had taught him in hopes of reducing the likeliness of self-inflicted stab wounds. Arthur wiped his hands on his trousers and whistled shrilly to alert Geraint and Percy to the continued threat to the camp, then drew his own sword as the first volley of arrows was loosed toward the treetops.
Merlin tensed beside him as a third knife flew, but it missed Arthur by a wide margin to hit packed dirt, rebounded, and landed in the fire. A moment later the figure of a man toppled out of the tree with a final-sounding crunch and lay still by the bank.
"Gareth, take three men and ride. Find out if he was alone, and send the scouts back." Arthur dispatched them to their mounts with a nod, then approached the fallen assassin with due caution, allowing Kay to interpose himself and inspect the body first.
"He wears no colours. A mercenary or a coward!" Kay scowled.
"I think we passed this fellow on the road," Dinadan put in consideringly. "On horseback, him and another bloke."
"So we were followed," Arthur said. He stood, satisfied that this attacker wouldn't trouble them further. Even as the riding party was mounting up, the two knights reappeared through the trees, Geraint leading an unfamiliar horse that pranced and rolled its eyes with alarm.
"There was another waiting in the woods," Percy was saying as Merlin took the horse's reins from Geraint, calming it in that way he had. "I'm sorry, Sire, he fled."
"Not before Percy got him in the back of the head with a river stone!" Geraint said with relish, and nearly everybody grinned at Percy, who seemed to be embarrassed by his spur-of-the-moment choice of projectile.
"Well done, Sir Percival," Arthur said, keeping a carefully straight face when Percy grew even more flustered at the praise. "With any luck, that headache will slow him enough for Gareth's party to catch up."
He frowned at the unfinished preparations for their lunch, his patience for the task exhausted despite his usual view that cleaning their kills was part of the hunt itself. "Can someone else-"
"I'll take care of it, Sire," Dinadan stepped in, tugging off his gloves to pick up where Arthur had left off with the rabbits before the attempt. Relieved, Arthur nodded to him and made promptly for the stream to wash, two of his men crossing ahead of him to keep watch upriver. Merlin had apparently secured the assassin's horse; he came to the riverside too at Arthur's heels, then stood about doing nothing while Arthur scrubbed the worst of the remaining mess off his hands. Arthur looked at him expectantly, but he failed to produce soap or even realise it might be welcome. But at least Merlin was looking better.
Apparently Merlin had no trouble interpreting Arthur's staring as a concerned query. "I'm okay," he said, smiling. "You?"
"Fine, why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, I don't know, Arthur, how about random people showing up in the middle of the woods to try to kill you?"
"You mean you're not used to that yet?" Arthur asked, amused by the exasperated slant of Merlin's mouth. "At least this was probably only political, and not some kind of mad revenge scheme."
"And... what about the knives? You know."
"What about them?" Arthur watched Merlin's eyes, trying to gauge his reaction as he spoke. "Merlin, I'm surrounded here by people I trust. If one of my men puts himself at risk to help me or mine, it is my duty to see that his protection doesn't land him in worse trouble than what he shielded me from. As far as I can. Do you understand?"
Merlin sighed, and nodded, his eyes gone soft and adoring in a look Arthur only rarely witnessed, and mostly when Merlin didn't know Arthur could see. It clearly wasn't any discomfort with sorcery that had him scared earlier, although that was hardly a surprise. Arthur wondered idly whether it was more the threat posed by the assassin that had put the tension in his friend's face, or worry for the one defending Arthur.
"I trust," he added, already sure but still needing Merlin's confirmation, "that you'll say nothing of this. To anyone."
"Of course," Merlin said immediately, and smiled that blinding smile.
"Now, did you bring the tools you'd need to patch my cuirass? I have to go have this exact conversation again with Sir Safir."
"I should be able to," Merlin said, and went for the fastenings without hesitation. "So you don't wonder who defended you?" he enquired as he stripped the punctured armour off.
"Better for him that I don't." Kay, perhaps. Kay had always been a bit too intrigued by the forbidden. It had been work keeping him out of serious trouble when they were younger. Or it could even have been Safir, new to Camelot and recklessly enthusiastic as he was, although the young man's exclamation of surprise hadn't seemed feigned. Or, possibly...
He looked to Merlin, who was distracted now, Arthur's leather armour dangling from his hands. The ever-present neckerchief was askew, the knot resting on one side of his neck, and his head tilted back to track the movement of a heron flying overhead. Arthur smirked at him fondly before turning to cross the small encampment, reminding himself not to wonder too much. Arthur could accept that he might never know for certain. Unless he someday did.