Mostly because dead people don't talk back

5: Aegis

During the days of duress that had Merlin kept inside, and after Gwaine had near yelled at Arthur about Merlin being an imbecile, the servant finally got to tell why he was hurt at all.

—

One could use the onomatopoeia "slam", "crack", or even "bang" to describe how Gwaine opened the door to Merlin's room, but none of them fit the action enough to describe the dent that had formed from the various times this had happened before.

Possibly, "WHACK" could do.

Gwaine opened the door with his regular whack, and Merlin looked up to what he'd be subjected to today.

He, the knight who cared dearly for his friend, took it upon himself to ask, "Oh, great and powerful Emrys, telleth me, how canst one akin to thee injure thyself?"

One for the dramatics.

So, it was that confrontation. Horrendous, really. "I've told you about opening the door that way!" Merlin started, quite frankly thrown off by the entrance.

"I open doors how I like." Gwaine goaded, poking at how lost that instruction (or any instruction at all) was on him.

It was a nice day, and talking to Merlin was nearly always joyous. Perhaps he could drag him out of his quarters into the sun later?

"You do anything you want— in rules and outside of them. Anyway, you want to know how I ended up in this wonderful situation?" A gesture was made toward the room, his bed— pretty much the entire situation. "Well, if you'd really like to know... bandits." He answered.

Gwaine's words sunk in a little more. 

"Really, Bandits?"

He had said something— Woah. Woah... wait. How could he know?

"Yes— Why do you know that name?" Merlin put down the bag he was mending to stare at his friend for an answer.

He turned and carefully shut the door this time. "I know your name because I worry and sometimes follow you to keep you out of more trouble. That alright?"

"Yeah." Merlin stared, blinking after understanding what a mess everything in life was. "Is it really that unbelievable that I was felled by bandits?"

"No," It was not unbelievable. It was completely and utterly understood that bandits were in the woods, and it was guaranteed to come across them. "But— why were you out there in the first place— before the bandits?"

"I was spying."

The knight pulled up a stool. "Spying? You were spying? On who exactly?"

"The..." A big old sheepish look swept onto Merlin's face. "I was spying on them..the bandits."

Oh. Well. That struck Gwaine as his kind of dumb. 

Firstly, "to spy" is to be secretive and not to be found out. So, Merlin had not been a very good spy. The people being spied upon found him doing so!

Also, how the hell had he gotten into a tree after the affair? Was it the adrenaline? Running from a group of people that you had been spying on would drive Gwaine up a tree too.

A concerned sigh was breathed into existence. "Well. You, my friend, are an idiot." A hand patted the warlock's foot. "And you are an idiot who needs to move from inside the confines of a castle."

Yes. Merlin needed to be removed from this small room at one point or another even if he was a warlock, the most powerful person in the world, and the manservant of the king.

"A big, dumb idiot," One step was taken to the side of the bed. "Who I know matter of fact needs some sunlight or any connection to the earth at all," Gwaine stretched a hand out for Merlin to take. "This is because you're a dumb, soft-hearted oaf."

"But, Gwaine..." Though complaints were made, Merlin grabbed his arm for leverage up. "It's my ri—"

"Legs still work though?"

That caught the servant without a response. Well, he muttered something about "falling out of a tree" and maybe "twisting" his "ankle", but it didn't matter much as it was wrapped to the heavens with cloth to keep in its place.

Yes. This is something that occurs, but not enough for Merlin.

One should ask: Do your legs work? Do they work at least partially? Then you don't have an excuse to care for yourself via the outside environment. It's too bad. The inevitable self-care around good friends always comes. One cares about themself because their friends will. If they have friends, that is.

Gwaine paused an acceptable response.

"Good."

The duo stopped moving, mostly Gwaine, as the mentioned hurt ribs shot pain through Merlin's torso. Merlin groaned in response which carried into a cough, bending him over. Oh, that hurt more. He starkly breathed at that pain. Bending in any way or fashion— horrible. Moving from the waist up was a horrible decision.

"If you complain, I'll drag you back and probably bruise your legs more. Now let's go."

"I'll drag you back—" Merlin threatened.

Gwaine supported him down the stairs, mostly to keep upright for as long as possible (rather than the horrible, absolutely horrible choice to bend at all in the torso).

"I would love to see that— really would. In your condition, the time it would take is not ideal. Perhaps finding a tortoise to lug me around would be better?"

Gwaine slammed the door shut behind them.

"Perhaps, but," He stopped until they reached the outside of the physician's. "It hurts to breathe— would you like to take my place?"

"I would like to listen to something other than your ceaseless whining. Oh, would you look at that—" The knight gestured with his less obstructed hand. "You're outside! And there are birds singing, children laughing.. but your whining is mucking it up."

Merlin laughed softly at that, careful to not disturb his torso's position. 

Past the courtyard and to a side field, Gwaine heaved Merlin to a tree beside where the knights were jesting and sparring today. 

"What a change in scenery, what a spectacle, men stabbing bits of metal at each other!" Merlin quirked a brow but was cheery all the same. 

Gwaine just laughed, carefully let him down, and made a face of "you-needed-this!". The duo parted from there, the uninjured leaving to "stab bits of metal" at the other knights. 

It was a constant pursuit, the knights' practices. It was more constant than years prior, only to put a damper on what anxieties the unknown location of Morgana and Morgause brought about.

After the undead army, Camelot was unsettled. Of course, it was due to Morgana screaming the foundations to bits but also the loss of the Lady the people had seen, had counted on. The sight of a lady, a feminine figure, in the household of Pendragon, gave everyone a sign of hope. Now, it was a purely men-led state in the eyes of the people. 

It hardly mattered either way as Gwen, a trusted servant, was at Arthur's side and Uther was barely functioning at a normal level.

"Oh- look who's joined us!" Arthur could be heard at every edge of the field. A sword was pointed toward the victim of his words: Gwaine. 

As though switching places, Lance handed over his sword to him and passed by, walking to the servant who was squinting in his direction.

"Come to give me company?"

"Nah, I was lonely."

Throwing a chunk of grass at him in response, Merlin scoffed into a laugh. "In that gaggle of swordsmen? Okay."

A beat. Lance picked at the grass in his hair. "Now. Tell me, how did you manage to injure yourself like this?"

Poor Merlin, retelling the story. Lance would laugh at him and end up helping him back. 

He had wonderful friends.