Wrap Your Arms Around Me (merdred)

23. Merlin's Bane

I literally listened to jazz while writing smut. Who the fuck listens to jazz while writing smut?! It wasn't even sexy jazz, it was happy, coffee shop jazz! Ohhh my goddd 😂

Sorry this update took so long, and I hope 5.8k words isn't too long... heh. Enjoy! Hope your day/night is going well :D

~

        MERLIN, MORDRED, AND ARTHUR each made a quick recovery with the help of Gaius and his assortment of potions... And, of course, the nearly excessive visits from Gwen and the knights. They checked in with each of them several times a day, pacing the room like worried mother hens, constantly asking if they needed anything. It almost got to a point where the thing Merlin craved most was some alone time... preferably with Mordred, doing more kissing than talking.

Arthur was the quickest to bounce back. The most important aid to his recovery was rest. So he spent the majority of the returning week in his chambers with Gwen. Despite Gaius' advice, he still found himself at every training session with the knights, even if he couldn't join in on the action himself.

Mordred also recovered relatively easily. He had been so preoccupied with finding Merlin that he had overlooked the pain he was still feeling, leading to a minor setback in his rehabilitation. Luckily, he downed each potion from Gaius with no hesitation. He even missed out on training while his wound continued to heal, and by a fortnight, it had completely scarred over. Merlin enjoyed running his fingers over the bumpy skin while they were alone. Something about his warrior mark was attractive.

On the other hand, Merlin's recovery wasn't as easy. Not only had he been drained from magic, but he also suffered from the aftermath of the Frotyros. Sometimes he could still feel it moving through his skin... His recovery would have gone smoothly if he hadn't been mandated to return to work three days later. Don't get him wrong, Merlin was thankful to have some time off. But it was not only physical pain he had suffered; it was mental too. The dreams he had when they were captured were terrifying. Even with the help of Mordred's arms to hold him at night, it wasn't enough to fight the nightmares off.

As the week passed on, the dreams slowly disappeared, but something in Merlin's mind changed. He felt easily scared when someone was behind him, or when the shadows lurking in the castle moved. Seeing Arthur being tortured at the hands of Morgana's men did something to his mind. Every fear he once had around his king dying was intensified. He should've been able to stop Morgana, but he didn't, and it was all his fault.

"Merlin!" A voice yelled from out of nowhere.

Merlin jumped at the voice and dropped the pitcher of water in his hands. It cascaded to the floor with a crash, sending water leaking across the floor. He sighed, bending down to pick the pitcher back up.

"What's up with you? You've been acting like a scared puppy this whole week," Arthur huffed as he tossed a nearby rag on the ground. Merlin took it and began wiping up the water.

He sucked a sharp breath in, not knowing whether to lie or ignore him. "Just thinking about what happened with Morgana. Don't worry about me," he cracked a smile that didn't quite reach his cheeks.

"You really are such a girl sometimes, Merlin." He saw the king bend down so he was kneeling next to Merlin on the floor. "When we were captured, Morgana never touched you. Yet you were sobbing and shaking like you were in pain. I took the brunt of everything, I really don't understand. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Merlin felt like he might topple over. If Arthur had somehow discovered his magic, he was quite possibly fucked. He picked up the rag and the pitcher, standing up from the floor. "I'm just empathic, sire. Seeing you in pain hurt me as well."