Harmony (Merlin)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Warning/s: A bit of mild horror/gore.

A/N: Does anyone know what a 'clam-bog' is?

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

"Arthur, where's Merlin?" Percival asked, jogging onto the field, sword in hand, only a few minutes later than everyone else.

"I don't know," Arthur frowned, turning from a rack of crossbows to face his knight. He squinted as the sun hit his eyes, "Lady Celeste borrowed her this morning but that was quite a while ago. I saw her go into the forest, but I thought she would have returned by now. I thought she might be with you."

"Why would she be with me?" Percival allowed his sword's tip to hit the ground.

Gwaine, who was strolling by, whooped in glee, attracting a few stares, and practically skipped over to the two. "Even he doesn't know!"

"Gwaine—" Arthur started.

"Know what?" Percival interrupted.

"About you and Merlin!"

"What about me and Merlin?" Percival asked, completely bemused.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "Gwaine..."

"You mean you actually don't know?" Gwaine paused, staring at Percival mournfully. "Does this mean it's not true?" he asked of Arthur, for all the world looking like a child discovering his birthday had been cancelled.

"Know what?" Percival questioned again, looking between king and knight.

"About you and Merlin!" Gwaine repeated.

"Yes, we got to that bit – what about Merlin and me?" a confused Percival replied.

"That..." Now that it came down to it, Gwaine seemed reluctant to speak. He looked at Arthur as if requesting permission (although this had never stopped him before) and then back to Percival, mouth opening and then snapping shut once more. "YouandMerlinareathing," he blurted out in one breath.

"Me and Merlin are a what?" Percival asked, not sure he'd heard the end of the sentence correctly.

"A thing! A couple! An item! Courting!" Gwaine crossed his fore and middle finger and waved them in Percival's face, making the knight step back a few steps in fear for his life. "Like this!"

"Wha-what?" Percival stammered.

"Did I trip over my words?" Gwaine demanded.

"We're not an...'item'!" Percival near shouted, making quotation marks with his fingers. His sword toppled over and the heavy hilt hit Arthur squarely on the foot. Arthur howled in pain and grabbed his toes, hopping around the training pitch on one foot. Some of the newer knights looked over, utter confusion written on their features.

Leon ran over to see why his king was dancing like a brain-damaged chicken and subsequently got punched in the face by a flailing extremity. Gwaine began to shout at Leon for assaulting the king and therefore committing treason. Elyan, at his own peril, began arguing with Gwaine before a member of the court overheard and sentenced Leon to death. Somewhere among the kerfuffle, Percival (even with his considerable size) escaped.

"Merlin?" Percival called softly, treading as softly as he could on the forest floor. He frowned as he reached a clearing where he knew Merlin often picked herbs. If Merlin was anywhere in these woods by choice, it would be here.

Concerned, Percival picked up his pace and ran towards an area he knew was infested with bandits. Cursing inwardly, he realised he'd left his sword behind but carried on regardless. He kept out an eye for any sharp or jagged rocks as he travelled, and picked up a branch that was pointed at one end, reckoning that something was better than nothing.

His mind wandered to Gwaine's words. Why did he assume they were courting? Yes, he had quite strong feelings for the maid, but he was fairly certain that Merlin didn't reciprocate them.

Sighing, he bowed to salvage a few stones that looked fairly razor-sharp and stashed them in his pocket.

Merlin cursed under her breath as she got thwacked in the cheek by another low hanging bough, this one covered in needle-like thorns. She dabbed away the blood that appeared, and then wiped her thumb on her breeches, leaving a smudge of crimson on the tan.

Then, suddenly, a sharp, searing, burning pain penetrated her side. With a gasp of shock and pain, Merlin dropped to her knees, clutching at the wound. With trembling fingers she prised up the shirt to view the gash.

It was three, possibly four inches deep, judging by the length of the dagger when she pulled it free and stung like hell when she prodded at it. Blood was flowing out as freely as wine from a jug and with each passing second Merlin grew fainter.

Merlin shoved aside her modesty and stripped off her shirt, compressing it into a tight, compact square and pressing it against the lesion. The cold now bit at her undisguised flesh and she hunched over, protecting as much of herself as was feasible from the chill.

Her head swam and the pain grew deadened and duller. No, Merlin thought desperately, no.

With one last panicked thought, Merlin collapsed forward.

Behind a clump of rocks, a group of bandits cheered for their success. The leader, a tall, unwashed man, spat on the ground and stood. "Oi! Felix!"

Felix, the one who had thrown the dagger, stood as well. "Aye?"

"Go to the Lady Celeste and tell her we done our job. And look quick about it – and don't be taking none of the reward for yourself now, we share it equally. That understood?"

"Aye, 'tis." Felix hurried off to find the lady in question.

"Damn!" Percival hissed to himself as he ran for cover behind a tree. One lone bandit sprinted past him, and a few moments after he had disappeared into the distance another group appeared, this lot ambling along, taking their time and laughing to themselves. One of them, the tallest, nearly as big as Percival himself, nudged one of his comrades and winked, saying, "Well, not only did we get her, we got a show out of it too, yes?"

The others whooped and laughed, one making a callous remark. Percival's blood boiled as he realised they were talking about a young lady; his suspicions grew when one of them described her as being "too small and pale" for his liking.

As soon as they had passed, Percival took off again, leaping over branches that could snap and give away his presence in his hurry.

His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the young woman they had been talking about. She was curved forward, one arm flung out a careless slant, the other insecurely holding a navy wad of material to a bleeding cut. Her back was fair and scarred a little, but Percival ignored all that – he recognised those boots.

"Merlin!" he cried, scrambling down to the dip in the valley to reach her. Once at her side, he rolled her over, silently apologising about her modesty, and claimed the shirt to push against the slash as he guessed she once did.

A/N: Sorry about the long gap in between updates – I won't bore you with excuses but let's just say that life isn't brilliant right now.

I'm in the middle of exams right now (I have my Chemistry one today – panicking alittlebit) and they'll be over soon, so hopefully updates will be coming a lot faster than before because they'll be less work, etc.

Review to make me feel better?