The air had got cold and biting last night. Merlin had forgotten the softer blanket that Arthur had given him last spring, and had burdened himself with the thin rag that had come from Ealdor. Arthur must have heard his teeth chattering because an argument full of whispering broke out between the two of them.
"Come over here, Merlin."
"No." Merlin replied. There was no way he was going to get up, stand in the cold, and use his energy trying to move his sleeping mat to where Arthur was. The prat could move himself.
"You're going to freeze to death." Arthur snapped, a small emotion of care finding its way into his words. Merlin rolled his eyes.
"I'm perfectly fine." Merlin snapped back.
"Yes, you're perfectly fine. I can hear your teeth chattering from over here."
"I can't help it." Merlin retorted, defensively.
"Just get over here."
"No."
"Merlin-" Arthur began to warn, but Merlin cut over him.
"Shut up, some people are tying to get to sleep." Merlin aggressively pulled up his blanket and shut his eyes, seeing phantom shapes behind his eyelids from squeezing them closed. It took him a lot of effort not to look over his shoulder and see the expressions on Arthur's face.
Hearing Arthur sigh, Merlin expected that he had given up. But excessive shuffling behind him was coming closer, until Merlin heard a thud beside him, causing him to snap his head to the side. The pain that seared up his neck from the sudden movement wasn't filtered through Merlin's thoughts, as Arthur Pendragon was lying right beside him.
"What are you doing?" Merlin tried to refrain himself from raising the volume of his voice.
"Stopping my manservant from freezing to death."
Merlin huffed. "I said I was fine!"
Arthur gave him a pointed look. Merlin was about to retaliate when Arthur turned on his side, his back to Merlin. It was a clear indication to Merlin, yet he still felt uneasy about it. He knew he shouldn't. They'd done it before, when winter had dug itself deep into the year and had left bitter wind and cold cutting air, making even the rain shy away from falling. He knew he shouldn't, because their friendship was greatly established between them and it shouldn't feel weird or make Merlin feel on edge and vulnerable for no apparent reason. The knights did it. Gwaine and Percival did it. Merlin wanted to convince himself that it was practical, to share body heat so neither of them would freeze to death. There was nothing else to it.
Merlin shuffled backwards, so that his back was pressed against Arthur's. He glanced at the other knights, even though Merlin knew that they had gone to sleep hours ago. Apart from Gwaine, who was taking watch by the tree that Merlin and Arthur had been earlier this evening. He winked at Merlin.
How Merlin wished that magic wasn't outlawed so that he could turn Gwaine into a toad and receive praise for it.
With the thought of using Gwaine for magic tricks, and the feeling of warmth diffusing through his body, Merlin fell asleep.
He dreamt of Arthur's blood staining his hands and a black raven tearing at his dead carcass.
***
Merlin had woken up that morning with a strange feeling irritating within the pits of his stomach. As much as he hadn't wanted to, he got up and wondered through the trees, trying to empty the phantom burning within him. He shivered from the loss of Arthur's back against his.
The forest felt too quiet.
Preoccupying himself with the breakfast had pushed the sense of foreboding out of his mind for a while
Watching Arthur tentatively enjoy his breakfast whilst occasionally glancing up at him nearly made Merlin remember of the dream he had had last night.
By the time that they had packed away camp and mounted their horses, Merlin couldn't place the morning's feelings, trying to pull them back to the forefront of his mind. Merlin decided to let them slip from his grasp. He let himself forget about it. He let the hours of the day pass him by, and tried to enjoy the rest of the hunting trip before they turned back to Camelot
However, the hunting trip was going terrible. They had only managed to catch a hare. A hare that didn't deserve to be hunted. It made it worse that it was all done for fun. At least Merlin had the sense to take no pleasure in hurting animals. That's why something called vegetables were a thing.
Merlin was also concerned with the fact that Arthur was doubting himself. The emotionally constricted prat was uncertain about himself yet again, and Merlin mentally rolled his eyes at how closed off Arthur could be. Uther Pendragon was the one to be blamed for that. That tyrant should never have been given the right to bring up a child. Merlin suspected that he had been the one to instigate the stupid notion that 'no man was worth your tears'. Arthur was already becoming a better ruler than his father ever was. Merlin was proud of him. He just hoped that what he had said last night would prove that to Arthur.
Merlin's thoughts were cut off by the sound of dead weight dropping to the ground. A horse then brayed and bucked. Two armoured men on armoured horses were striding towards them. Merlin whipped his head around. Three more men were gaining at the rear and suddenly more men were advancing from the banks. Merlin heard the unsheathing of Camelot swords and Arthur's commanding bellow. The feeling from the morning came back, even stronger, clawing at Merlin's insides, as if it were trapped and was aggressively grasping for freedom. Merlin begged for Arthur to meet his eyes. And he did.
"Merlin, get to safety, get back to Camelot if you can." said Arthur, panic woven into his voice.
"Arthur, no-" Merlin tried to retaliate, but was interrupted by Arthur.
"Don't you dare, Merlin. Get to safety."
Merlin tried again. "Arthur-"
"Merlin." Arthur was off his horse by now, with one finger pointed at Merlin and a look in his eyes that made Merlin fall short of words. He briefly laid his hand on Merlin's arm. "I'll be fine. Go."
Merlin watched for a split second as Arthur's hand fell from his arm and saw the faint gold of Arthur's hair disappear between the other knights of Camelot. The memory of the contact buzzed along his skin. He knew he should head for safety. But Merlin couldn't leave Arthur here, outflanked by bandits, with fellow knights dropping to the floor every few seconds. Merlin needed to help.
Merlin never got the chance to help. In a split second, arms were around him, dragging him down and off his horse. Before Merlin could use his magic, a cloth was around his face and his resistance against whoever was holding him started to dwindle. His need to save Arthur began to fall into the depths of his mind and the feeling in his stomach roared, and then went silent. Merlin lost consciousness.
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Worthless, Worth Less or is it So Much More
FanfikceMerlin means the world to Arthur. He desperately wants Merlin to realize that. But the words seems to have an inability to make it past his lips, and anyway, when has communication ever been that simple between the two of them? Or Welcome to the li...