Only For You

Chapter 8

Arthur spent much of the night walking in the forest. He found himself continuously marveling at how little Merlin weighed; the boy was practically skin and bones, which did nothing to ease Arthur's worry.

After a few hours of stumbling through the darkness with Merlin in his arms, Arthur decides it would be best to make a small camp to rest at for the rest of the night. He lays Merlin gently down beside a large oak tree, removing his own cape and tucking it around Merlin like a blanket. He then proceeds to gather some stones and branches, making a small fire pit. He collects a lot of wood before crouching down beside the firepit and lighting a fire. It took him a good many tries before he actually produced the spark that ignited the flame, and he was a bit thankful that Merlin wasn't awake to see him struggle.

With a pleasant little fire going, Arthur now turns his attention to Merlin. He feels sick with worry as he moves slowly to sit beside the broken figure, looking down at the pale and bloodied face. He reaches into the small bag he'd brought, which contained only that which his alcohol-clouded mind had been able to remember to bring. He withdraws a water pouch from it, and his dagger. With his dagger he cuts off a large strip of his shirt, bunching up the fabric in his hand. He dampens the cloth with the water from his pouch, and gently begins to mop the blood up from the side of Merlin's face.

A small frown appears across Merlin's forehead, his eyes stirring slightly behind closed lids. A weak groan escapes his cracked lips.

"Shhhh...." Arthur adds some more water to the cloth, resuming the cleansing of Merlin's blood.

Merlin winces as pain flares across his temple, a small yelp coming out of his mouth.

Arthur jerks his hand back, biting his lip. "I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry, Merlin...." He murmurs, his voice anything but steady. He withdraws the bloodsoaked fabric, setting it aside. The last thing he wanted was to cause Merlin more pain than he was already in, but the wound on his temple needed to be bound to stop the bleeding. "I'm just going to bind your head, okay?" He shifts, ripping another strip of fabric from his shirt.

Merlin's eyes open slowly, with much difficulty. It feels like an anvil is being driven through his head with each heartbeat, and the pain is so extreme that he can hardly focus on where he is.

Arthur's heart aches when Merlin opens his eyes. It's evident he's in a great deal of pain. "Shhh...." he murmurs, gently lifting Merlin's head so he can wrap the fabric around it, tying it in a knot over the wound in Merlin's temple.

Tears spring to Merlin's eyes and he gives an involuntary cry of pain, his whole body stiffening. Arthur, without thinking, gingerly gathers Merlin into his arms, pulling him so that he's laying across his lap, cradled to his chest.

Merlin's breath hitches as agony sears through his chest with the sudden movement, stars dancing before his eyes. He shudders, tears now sliding down his cheeks. His hands lay limply, awkwardly positioned on his chest.

Arthur holds Merlin securely, feeling Merlin's pain as acutely as though it were his own. He brings a hand to the unhurt side of Merlin's face, cradling his cheek and brushing his thumb lightly over his soft skin. "I've got you...."

For the first time, Merlin's eyes focus on Arthur above him. "Arthur..." His voice is strained.

A sad smile touches upon Arthur's face. "I'm here, Merlin."

A shaky sigh of relief pushes past Merlin's lips, and his eyes slide shut. Even through the constant haze of pain, he knew he was safe with Arthur. "Don't....d-don't leave me...." He pleads. "Please...."

Arthur's heart breaks and his own vision becomes blurry. It was his fault Merlin was suffering. All his fault. "I won't leave you Merlin." He promises, leaning down slowly to press his lips to Merlin's forehead in a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry..." he murmurs against his skin, closing his eyes before the tears can escape them.

The corner's of Merlin's mouth twitch upward slightly in the ghost of a smile. He feels the familiar blackness of unconcsiousness tugging at his mind, and before he drifts off again, he mutters without thinking, "Maybe I should get hurt more often....p'rhaps then you'd notice me..."