Merlin One Shots

The Other Girl

My uncle, Gaius, knocked repeatedly on my small bedroom door as I could just about see the sun rise through the window. I groan in response, my drowsy head lifting slowly off of my pillow.

"(Y/n), you need to get up. The tournament for Arthur's engagement is today."

I sigh as I'm reminded of who I could have had. Arthur has never noticed me though. Every day I see him, but I've always been just another servant. It was always Gwen he was interested in.

"Come on, (Y/n)!" my uncle shouts again. I throw the door open and quickly swallow a cup full of water and a bowl of soup.

"You'll make yourself sick eating like that," Merlin says as he leaves the room to go and see Arthur. I roll my eyes at him from behind. Merlin and I are the same age, so we've been close ever since his first day here. He treats me life a younger sister though and I enjoy all of it's benefits.

I run down to the fields outside of the city and set up my things. Today is going to be a long day.

***

Over the course of the tournament, I tend to too many cuts and wounds. If I was marrying Arthur there's no way I'd want as much bloodshed at a celebration. It's illogical.

By the time I've finished with my last patient, it's Arthur and Lancelot against each other. I tell Gaius that I'm going to go and watch from the sidelines, my heart pounding in my chest as I watch Arthur take position and race towards Lancelot.

I turn away as I can't watch the man I love get hurt. I just can't. Suddenly I can hear applause and I turn back to see Arthur with a cut on his arm. His men escort him over to my tent and Gaius tells him that I will be dealing with him. He winks as he leaves the tent to attend to his other 'patients'.

I remove Arthur's armour carefully and place it in the table beside me. I then remove the clothing around it to find a gash, not too deep, in his arm. I swallow as I remember I can't have anything to do with Arthur. Not now he's getting married.

"This might hurt a bit," I say as I pick up a piece of cloth and dip it in water before dabbing carefully around his wound. He breathes in and holds it as I keep looking up at him then back to his cut.

"You seem familiar," he says, his pain evident from his tone.

"Gaius is my uncle. I work for him and he gives me a home. It's enough."

"You're very good at your job."

"Thank you, Sire."

I deliberately take my time cleaning his wound, stitching it and dressing it just so I can be alone with him. Just for a few moments. As I bend over to look at his arm in it's dressing, I feel his breath on the back of my neck, making my hair stand on end.

But I have to pull away.

I know it can't be.

I hear the tent flap pull back and I turn to see Guinevere. She stands there, her hands on her hips, a proud but concerned look on her face as she inspects me looking at Arthur.

"What is she doing in here?" She demands, her voice filled with a sense of hatred.

"She was dealing with my wounds. I believe that is a valid enough reason."