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"Oh my boy," Gaius clicked his tongue pitifully. "Why do you get yourself into these situations?"
"I don't. It's the fragile egos of the rich pricks here that get me into these situations." Merlin gasped painfully as Gaius pressed the wounds with the cool wet cloth a little too hard. "Gaius! Ow!"
"Well, if you would stop fidgeting, I wouldn't be having such a hard time tending to those wounds."
"Well, it's hard to stay still when your whole back is burning like it’s on fire." Merlin gritted his teeth.
Gaius sighed. Not disappointedly.
Merlin hadn't intended for Gaius to find out. But he already had the same wounds from yesterday morning that got reopened from the beating this afternoon. It was quite hard to hide the cane marks on his back burning with intense pain while scrubbing the floor.
He lasted five minutes, bent over on his knees, bringing the brush back and forth on the floor, the pain increasing by the second before he had to stop and lean back to rest. Gaius looked up from his book, saw him covered in sweat and panting from just a few minutes of floor scrubbing and demanded to know what was wrong.
“Nothing,” Merlin bit out through clenched teeth.
“You’re in pain.”
“No. I’m fine.” He clenched his teeth harder, grabbed the scrub and hunched over again to go back to his chore, but Gaius kneeled in front of him and grabbed the scrub, discarding it to the side.
“I am a physician, Merlin,” he said gravely, raising his Disappointed Eyebrows. “You cannot hide a person in pain from me. Least of all my own charge.”
The look he gave when Merlin explained wasn't pitiful but creased with concern and worry. And somehow, that was just as bad as pity. Although, the hug that came after wasn’t so bad.
"You shouldn't hide these things from me, Merlin," Gaius sighed now, preparing the bandages. "You know I can help you."
Merlin didn't respond. He was too exhausted to argue.
Four days ago, ever since the neighboring kingdom, Ashwind, came for the mandatory every-five-months-party-because-hell-if-nobles-get-bored, Merlin had been running errands and doing chores non-stop due to the high demand of work for the castle’s staff. He barely got enough time to eat all three meals, barely enough time to sleep even six hours, barely enough time to catch a breath.
Especially when he somehow kept making mistakes that Sir Edward and Sir Morgan insisted didn’t go unpunished. They were knights whom he was assigned to attend to. Ashwind was one of the neighboring kingdoms that had been allies with Camelot since the beginning of Uther's reign. And so to keep the peace going (Merlin wasn't looking forward to another war for at least the next two months), he kept quiet.
"How did it happen?" Gaius asked now.
Merlin sighed. "I tripped."
"You tripped?"
"I tripped." He rubbed his face tiredly. "I was carrying the tray from Sir Edward’s room with his empty dishes from lunch, and as I walked past, I tripped over his leg." Which he was 85% sure he stuck his foot out on purpose.
Gaius paused. "Let me get this right. You got hit with a cane seven times because you tripped."
"And got his floor dirty. That was his main concern. That and the fact that it was his foot I tripped on."
Gaius didn't move. "What about yesterday?"
"Sir Morgan's boots weren't polished enough which was why he misstepped in the spar against Elyan and lost."
"And how many did you get for that?"
"Ten."
Gaius sucked in a sharp breath. "You have been running around, doing laundry, polishing armor, cleaning rooms, serving food, scrubbing floors and more with seventeen strikes on your back?"
He shrugged.
"Merlin," Gaius exclaimed, horrified. "You should have told me."
"And what can you do, Gaius?" Merlin questioned with irritated exasperation. "You can't very well get them to stop." He looked down at his hands. "They'll be gone in two weeks. It'll be fine."
"No, I cannot stop them," Gaius admitted. "A physician has no complete command over knights and nobles, but I can help you, Merlin." He resumed wrapping the bandages around him. "I can help treat your wounds and give you something to manage the pain. It is my job not only as a physician but also as your guardian. Your mother entrusted you to me, Merlin. You are like a son to me."
Merlin gave a small smile. “Thanks, Gaius,” he said softly.
“You’re welcome. Now stay still, will you?”
--------------------------------------------------------
Merlin, being the manservant to the king, was often brought to the training grounds to help Arthur or the other knights practice. They often made him hold the target up or act as an opposer to practice their skills, but never had he been made to be the target.
“You, boy,” Allen pointed at Merlin who was carrying the king’s dirty armor into the armory for cleaning. “Stand there.” Allen directed his finger at a large, wooden target board.
“Why?” He barely got the word out when he was backhanded across the face.
“Did I say you could speak, servant?” He spat out the last word. “Do as I say.”
Merlin debated the pros and cons of retorting back.
“Are you dumb, boy?”
Yeah, no, fuck it. “You know what, I think my brain cells are slipping every second I’m in your arrogant presence, so yeah, I think you might actually be turning me dumb by simply standing,” Merlin snapped as he turned on his heel and walked away, still carrying the armor.
He thought the shock of a servant actually standing up for themself would be enough to quickly escape the situation, but apparently, Sir Allen had a record recovery time.
“Insolent wimp.”
The large man stomped forward and grabbed his wrist hard enough to bruise. He jerked him towards his way, causing Merlin to drop the armor and nearly tumble on the grass.
He was pushed backwards in front of the wooden target board.
“If you so much as move,” Sir Allen threatened as he grabbed Merlin’s jaw in an iron grip, “I will have you publicly flogged.”
The cane marks on his back twinged painfully at the thought.
Allen let go of his grip and moved back a considerable distance. Other knights were gathering around to see the show.
Merlin glanced around, subconsciously trying to spot the familiar faces of his friends in the crowd, but he found none. Guess he would have to deal with this alone.
The first dagger sailed past and landed just four inches under his armpit. Merlin’s breath hitched.
He looked up, eyes wide. If Allen’s hand slipped even a fraction—
The second dagger landed just beside his shoulder. The crowd cheered as soon as the heavy ‘thunk’ rang through the air.
Allen, basking in the attention, threw the dagger up in the air and caught it for show before flinging it towards Merlin.
It stuck in the wood above his head, probably taking a few of his hairs with it.
Sir Allen was known to be one of the best marksmen and archers in his kingdom. He heard Leon and Percival talking about it a couple of weeks before their arrival. But even good marksmen slipped from time to time.
So when the fourth dagger looked too much like it was about to impale him, he whispered a spell under his breath and the blade landed between his fingers. Merlin nearly fainted.
The shouts and cheers of the surrounding knights and a few squires were deafening and nauseating. Merlin’s vision blurred with panic and the overwhelming medley of sound.
The fifth dagger hurtled his way and Merlin hissed another spell and it lodged itself beside his neck, slicing a bit of skin. Allen wasn’t too far back to know that he had nicked his skin. His grin grew wider.
Merlin swallowed but didn’t dare move.
A few more daggers thrown his way, a few more desperately whispered spells, and Merlin was free to go.
He wasn’t even dismissed verbally. Allen just walked forward, pulled all his daggers out, pocketed them, and left without sparing him a glance.
The crowd dispersed, casually going back to what they were doing before, leaving Merlin breathing heavily and still frozen in front of the target board.
It took a few minutes before he could unglue himself from the wood and stumble away. He stood slightly trembling at the adrenaline for a few moments before he picked up the armor he was carrying before and made his way to the armory.
Sir Edward wanted him to clean his bed and his room for a short afternoon nap before the knights got together for an informal sparring competition in the evening. If he wanted to avoid more punishment, he better go and finish that soon. Unfortunately, Arthur’s armor would have to wait.
At least Arthur wouldn’t sentence ten cane strikes or slap him for that. He might get a couple of snarky insults and have a goblet thrown at him. But the goblet would purposefully miss him, and Merlin could retort back with his own snarky reply. And then the two would slip into their banter which held no consequences and it wouldn’t need him to watch his every word and move.
He dropped the armor off and hurried up the stairs to the guest quarters when he bumped into Gwen.
“Merlin!”
“Gwen!” A smile easily slipped on his face. “How are you?”
“Busy,” Gwen laughed.
“Tell me about it,” Merlin laughed with her. “This lot is a handful, aren’t they?”
“And demanding,” Gwen sighed.
Merlin nodded in agreement. Then something caught his eye.
He immediately reached out and pulled Gwen’s hand up. Dark purple bruises in the distinct shape of a hand covered her wrist. Anger shot up through him and he gritted his teeth.
“Who did it?” he demanded.
“Merlin, it’s nothing—”
“Gwen, who did it?”
“Merlin, I’m fine—”
“Who did it?” Merlin didn’t budge.
Gwen twisted her hand away from him. “I could ask the same about you. Why is your neck bleeding? And why do you have the same bruise as I do on your wrist?”
Merlin unclenched his jaw. He swiped the side of his neck and red coated his fingers when he brought them in front of him.
“Fair enough then,” he sighed, resigning. “Do you have a free moment today?”
Gwen scoffed. “If I cut down on my sleep, maybe.”
Merlin grinned. “Good. Be there at Gaius’ place.” He rushed off, calling a quick goodbye.
After he was done with his chores for the day (and thankfully, avoiding bumping into any more blunders), it was well past his usual bedtime. He couldn’t go to Arthur’s room all day to clean it and do his other duties in favor of Edward and Morgan. He would make it up to his friend by letting him sulk five extra minutes when he woke him up tomorrow.
When he entered Gaius’ chambers, he saw that Gwen was already there chatting with Gaius.
“Merlin!” he was greeted by both.
“Glad you could make it, Gwen.”
“Why did you ask me to come here again?”
Merlin smiled fondly at his friend. She had given up sleep just because he had asked her to be here. She really was a charming person.
“For this.” He reached into one of the shelves and pulled out strips of bandages.
Gwen frowned. “What?”
“Oh come on, do you want to tie your bruises alone?” He walked towards her and Gaius and unrolled the bandages.
“Merlin.” She chewed on her lip. “You don’t have to.”
“Oh, but I do.” He gently took Gwen’s hand in his and began spreading some healing ointment. “I’m not just a servant. I’m also a physician.”
“You mean a physician’s assistant?” Gaius corrected.
“Oh c’mon, Gaius. Hasn’t it been long enough?”
“Certainly not. It took me many years to perfect this practice and it will take you just that many years too.”
Merlin rolled his eyes.
“You must wrap your own wounds too then,” Gwen frowned.
“Did you land yourself in trouble again?” Gaius asked worriedly, already grabbing the bandages from him and scanning him up and down before his eyes landed on his neck.
“It’s not as bad as two days ago, Gaius. Just a cut and a bruise.”
“What happened two days ago?” Gwen’s frown deepened.
Gaius glanced at Merlin, leaving it up to him to tell.
Merlin considered. “Ed… Edward and Morgan are those types of nobles. You know, the ones who find others in pain to be funny?”
“What did they do?”
Merlin leaned on his arms. The potion Gaius had given him certainly did ease his pain a little, but the wounds still burned. It was only because of Gaius he hadn’t gotten sick or infected.
“They thought it would be appropriate to coerce the steward into handing out some punishment.”
Gwen inhaled sharply. “Show me.”
Merlin faced her. “Are you su—”
“Merlin, you are my friend. And I have a right to know so I can help you.”
Merlin laughed sourly. “And how will you do that?”
Gwen scowled. “What do you mean?”
“How will you help? You can’t get them to stop.”
“No,” she agreed. “I do not have the power to make them stop. But as your friend, I have the power to ease your pain.”
“How?”
Gwen grinned. “I don’t think even Gwaine knows how to cheer you up as well as I do.”
Merlin snorted. “Gwaine’s idea of cheering up is to get drunk at the tavern.”
“Well, if you do need a friend, I will be scurrying around the castle behind Sir Allen and Lady Fabia.”
Merlin narrowed his eyes. “You’re assigned to Sir Allen?”
Gwen pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes. The most handsome knight in Ashwind.” She said the word with the strongest eye roll Merlin had ever seen.
“What’s handsome about him?” Merlin scrunched his nose.
“The amount of intelligence he has, I suppose.”
Merlin bit his lip to keep from laughing, but the cheeky look Gwen had on was too much and the two burst into laughter, Gaius shaking his head in amusement.
------------------------------------------------------
He knew sooner or later that it would happen. That he would be caught. No matter how much he wished and made sure they didn’t know, they would eventually find out.
It started in the stables. One of Ashwind’s knights’ horses had a certain… bowel problem. The Horse Master had someone tending to it, but the shits would take time to stop. Which just meant that mucking out the stable the horse was in had to be more frequent.
The servant who was mainly in charge of that stable had broken his leg and because of the visit from the other kingdom, the servant staff was running short and the stable-mucking duty had to be taken in shifts.
That day, it was Merlin’s turn. His only one, thankfully. Being the servant to the king certainly had its perks.
Just as he was making his way to the stables, he heard his name being called angrily. Except it wasn’t really his name.
“MERTIN.”
That was what Sir Edward had been calling him for the entirety of his stay so far. He tried to correct him at first but simply gave up after the first two days.
“What’s wrong, sire?” Merlin asked, dread bubbling in his chest. Regardless of the severity of his mistake, or even if that mistake was his or not, he was certainly going to be punished for it. Harshly, if Sir Edward’s boilingly angry tone had given any hint.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”
Merlin winced.
Edward marched up to him, looming over him with barely controlled rage. “What’s wrong is that you—” he poked a sharp finger on his chest “—left my armor in the mud as some sort of sick joke.” The last two words were accompanied by a striking backhand.
Merlin stumbled and resisted the urge to touch the spot where he had been struck. “I did no such thing,” he said defensively.
Sir Edward’s nostrils flared. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me!”
He brought his hand down to slap him again, but Merlin ducked.
Sir Edward stared at him, eyes wide with horror, as if he was the one who had nearly been struck. Then the shock wore off and his face morphed into a look of such fury, that it made a chill run up his spine.
“Boy, you’re really going to get it now,” he growled.
He grabbed his wrist—the one that had already been acquainted with Sir Allen’s hard grip—and squeezed hard. If his wrist wasn’t throbbing a few seconds before, it certainly was now.
Then a fist struck him on his nose, then struck him again. At the third punch, his hand was let go and Merlin fell, scraping his elbow against the rough ground.
“Ow,” he said dully.
Liquid trickled over his lips and his tongue tasted blood. Ah. His nose was bleeding. Perfect. Just what he needed.
“You will learn to respect your betters,” the ass growled before a kick was sent his way.
Unfortunately, his back was facing the buffoon and the boot connected with his injured back, pain immediately rippling across his whole body and the force sending him sprawling completely on the ground.
He screamed out loud in pain.
Merlin couldn’t move. His whole body was on fire somehow, not just his back.
Another kick landed on his side and he immediately curled up. But his wounds pulled and he cried out again.
Sir Edward kicked his foot forward again, hitting his back once more. Merlin groaned.
The words for the spell came to him automatically, but he held his tongue.
Suddenly, a shout broke through.
“MERLIN!”
Merlin ignored the shout. His head was spinning in all directions and he couldn’t think. All he could feel was pain.
But then he felt a rush of air and he couldn’t help but open his eyes.
There, on the ground, was Sir Edward with a raging Gwaine on top of him.
And Merlin… just gave up. Trying to move, trying to function, trying to uphold whatever dignity he had these days.
“Get off me, you fool!” Sir Edward shouted.
“Try me, asshole,” Gwaine retorted along with a punch square on his nose.
Merlin couldn’t help but feel a small spark of satisfaction when his nose started bleeding.
That spark was gone, however, when two pairs of hands pulled him up and pain clouded his vision again.
Someone screamed, probably him. Not that he was paying much attention. The agony seemed to be too enchanted by him to let go.
He slumped against Percival and Leon, who were doing quite a good job of holding him up. “D’you two w’rk out or s’mthin’?” he asked, the words too heavy for his tongue to lift.
They just stared at him.
“He needs Gaius,” Percival said.
“Agreed,” Leon replied.
Merlin shook his head. “Nuh Gaius. Gwaine’s in trouble if he don’t stop.”
Leon sighed, “He’s right.” He shifted his gaze over to Gwaine. “Gwaine!” he yelled. “Gwaine! He’s had enough, let him go.”
Gwaine’s eyes glittered dangerously with revenge. “I don’t think so.” He landed another punch.
“Dat nose broken,” Merlin stated.
“Here, hold him.” Leon shifted his weight onto Percival.
He approached the knight and pulled him off the bloody one, dragging him away. “Gwaine. Lay off. You’ll get in trouble more if you—”
“He should be the one being put in the stocks!” Gwaine yelled. “Hell, he should be in the dungeons. Assaulting Merlin like that—”
“But he won’t,” Merlin said. Who was he saying that to? Oh, Percival was holding him up. He must be talking to Percival.
He looked up at the big hunk of a man and repeated, “He won’t. ‘M a servant. He’s a n’ble.”
“Arthur would never stand for this,” Percival assured.
“No, he would be sittin’. He’s got a fat bott’m.”
Percival snorted but coughed to cover it up.
“S’r Edward’s got a fatter bott’m.”
This time, Percival didn’t bother to cover up his laugh.
Leon had managed to wrangle Gwaine over to them, away from Edward. The raging knight seemed to finally regain control from where he had handed the reigns of his body over to the anger, because he was looking at Merlin up and down, scanning each injury.
“Merlin?” he said with surprise, frowning. “Why do your bruises look older than today? And are those bandages I see?”
“S’r Edward has a fat bott’m,” Merlin relayed the message to him.
Gwaine burst into laughter and Leon’s lip twitched in amusement.
He made his friends laugh. Now that that was done, he turned back to Sir Fat Bottom.
Three servants who were milling around were at his side, helping him get up and offering a slightly ragged handkerchief to control the bleeding.
A thought came across his mind and dread bubbled up again. “Will he be needin’ Gaius too?” he asked quietly.
The three knights looked at each other.
Leon sighed. “Unfortunately. Gaius is the court’s physician. And he will demand only the best.”
---------------------------------------------------
Merlin kept a wary eye out for Edward when they arrived at Gauis’ chambers. They walked there, Percival and Gwaine holding him upright, and Leon hovering around Sir Edward, bound by duty. Though his friends did try to keep as much distance between him and Edward as possible. Leon was on his side, forcing Edward to walk on the edge of the path to keep his distance from Merlin.
Edward kept muttering, too low for him to hear. Or maybe that was just his delayed senses which were still burning with pain, because Gwaine seemed to hear him well enough as his grip tightened with every mutter the noble hissed under his breath.
“Gwaine,” Merlin slurred halfway there.
“Hm?”
“Ouch.”
“Oh, sorry.” He readjusted his grip.
The egocentric noble raved on about the insolence of Camelot’s people while Leon tried to pacify him and Gaius tended to his definitely broken nose.
Since Gaius was occupied with the pompous knight, Merlin was tending to his injuries by himself.
“Hey now,” Gwaine snatched the damp cloth from him. “You’re a patient too.”
Merlin shook his head, but even that movement was too much and he swayed. “I can look after myself.” At least he wasn’t slurring his words now, though he still had to flail around to find his ability to language, still delirious with the pain.
“You won’t be able to wipe off all the blood, let me—”
“I said I can look after myself.” Merlin snatched the cloth back and roughly swiped over his nose.
A pained shout came from the conceited idiot on the other side of the room.
“I just set your nose, sir,” Gaius informed coldly. “I just need to stick this bandage on to keep it in place and spread some herbs then it will be alright.”
Sir Edward looked around for a source to vent his frustration and troubles. His eyes landed on Merlin and his breath hitched. “I demand he be punished!” Sir Edward roared. Looked like Leon’s calming had no effect.
“He’s been through more than enough,” Gwaine retorted, stepping forward.
“If you weren’t a knight,” Edward glared at him, “I would be demanding you to be thrown in the dungeons too.”
Before Gwaine could snap out another retort, Percival slapped a hand over his mouth. Then he immediately retreated it. “Did you just lick me?” he asked incredulously.
Gwaine shrugged.
“I thought Camelot was a noble city.”
“It would be without the presence of you,” Merlin murmured under his breath. Percival heard him and looked amused.
“I demand this be taken to the king!”
The room stiffened.
Leon looked shocked, Gaius raised an eyebrow, Percival bit his lip, Gwaine smirked, and Merlin swallowed.
“By all means,” Gwaine bobbed his head in a mock bow. “Go and tell our king.”
“I will be complaining to mine too!”
Leon, who had been looking hopeful before, now slightly creased his brow. Merlin understood his hesitance. It wouldn’t do well if Camelot started a war with a kingdom that had such strong connections of alliance and trade.
“Well, that’s all done now,” Gaius declared, stepping back, not even bothering to double-check the splint.
Sir Edward stepped off the cot. “I will be taking this to them first thing after dinner.” He headed towards the exit but stopped in front of Merlin before he left. “Enjoy your last peaceful dinner,” he snarled.
Gwaine stepped in front of him, glaring him down.
Edward scoffed and left.
The tension immediately left his shoulders and Merlin sank on top of the table in relief.
“I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you before, my boy.” Gaius beckoned him towards the patient’s corner. “I had to look after him first.” He curled his lips in disgust.
“That’s okay, Gaius.” Merlin sat on top of the cot. “I cleared most of the blood away. Fortunately, my nose isn’t broken, so I’ll just take the pain-numbing potion.”
Gaius gave him a stern look. “Are you the physician here?”
Merlin quirked his lips into a slight smile. “No.”
“Then you don’t tell me what to do.”
Merlin smiled wider with fondness. “Yes, sir.”
He let Gaius clean the rest of his face and check the other bruises.
“What happened with Sir Edward anyway?” Leon asked. “What angered him?”
“I supposedly left his armor in the mud, retorted back rudely, and ducked when he was about to slap me.”
“He wants you to be thrown in a cell because you tried to defend yourself?” Gwaine snarled. “That makes no sense!”
“It does for a noble,” Merlin said, fiddling with his neckerchief.
“Wait, what armor?” Leon asked.
“Wish I knew,” Merlin shrugged. “He just came at me suddenly out of nowhere.”
“Surely he doesn’t mean the armor some junior squires were fooling around with earlier?” Leon scowled. “I thought that was from the spares.”
“Clearly it was not.” Merlin pressed his lips tightly. “Because I got blamed for it either way. Just like the other times.”
Hot, frustrated anger rose from inside his chest and threatened to overpower him.
He was sick and tired of everything. Literally. The toll from doing chores with his injuries was catching up to him and he suddenly just wanted to go to bed so badly.
But he couldn’t. He still had to muck out the stables, clean Sir Morgan’s armor and boots, help set up for the dinner feast, attend the dinner feast, and then tend to Arthur’s nightly routine before heading back to his bed. Not to mention he hadn’t been able to attend to Arthur since last night. It wasn’t too unusual for him to disappear randomly, but he always got extra prattish when Merlin delayed his duties.
“What do you mean other times?”
He was too drowned in his thoughts to recognize what Percival was saying. “Huh?”
“He has hit you before?” Gwaine asked, fury burning his words again.
Merlin winced at the reminder of the cane strikes. “It’s fine. It’s nothing too bad.”
Gaius scoffed at that but didn’t say anything.
“Wait, the bandages.” Gwaine’s eyes widened as he pulled Merlin’s jacket down before he could protest.
Merlin was getting really tired of the raucous knight. “Do you want some too? I’ll be more than happy to give you an excuse.”
“Merlin, what happened?”
Merlin groaned and covered his face with his hands, blocking Gaius from spreading ointment on the bruises there too.
“Merlin—”
“Fine!” he snapped. “Fine.”
The four were taken aback by the venom in his voice.
“In the past week, I have been struck with a cane twenty-five times, slapped almost every day, manhandled regularly, given excessive chores, thrown daggers at and had my throat nearly sliced open, got a gash on my leg in a hurry to finish collecting herbs so I wouldn’t be late to serve Arthur’s breakfast again, been burned by scalding hot water because I didn’t hand the right pair of night clothes to Sir Morgan, and all the while I haven’t had the time to eat a full meal or sleep for more than five hours.”
He finished the rant and heaved a deep breath, anger burning his skin and nearly choking him.
“You what?”
All parties turned to the new voice in the chamber.
Arthur Pendragon stood in shock in the doorway, staring at Merlin with wide, horrified eyes.
"Merlin…" the king said slowly. "Are you to say… that you have been tortured this whole past week along with being starved and deprived of sleep… and you didn't think to say anything?"
"I don't have to pour my whole life out to you," he riposted.
"Merlin." Arthur's brow creased in worry. "You should have told me. I would have done something."
"And what would you have done, Arthur?" For some reason, his tear ducts decided that it was a lovely time to open up and soak in the sunshine. "You can't very well throw them in the dungeon or complain to their king. It would put the alliance in a precarious position and war would fall upon Camelot again. And I'm getting real tired of them." He quickly swiped his tears.
"Well then, you could have told me," Gwaine protested.
"And the rest of us too," Percival supplied.
"What would you do? Punch them in the face and land yourselves in trouble?" Merlin shook his head. "No. This is a servant's problem, and I am a servant."
"Merlin," Arthur's tone took on a dangerous lilt. He made his way to him and smacked his head lightly. Very lightly. "You are not just a servant and you never will be."
Merlin was confused. "Well, I am also Gaius' assistant."
Arthur shook his head with a sigh. "You idiot." He smiled fondly. "You are my friend. Not just a servant and assistant."
"And you are my ward too," Gaius said gently. "I am not just bound by duty to treat your wounds. I do it because I care for you."
"Just like how I break people's noses and defeat them in sword fights because I care for you too." Gwaine grinned.
Merlin let out a huff of laughter as Leon rolled his eyes.
"Tell me who the culprits are, Merlin," Arthur asked— no. He demanded.
Merlin hesitated. He had absolute confidence that Arthur wouldn't let them hurt him, but it didn't change the fact that the king yelling at them on behalf of a servant would anger them more. And it would cause them to seek revenge discreetly.
"How about we tend to your wounds first, Merlin?" Gaius suggested. "Especially the ones you haven't told me about."
"I can take care of myself," Merlin protested.
Arthur and Gwaine snorted while Leon and Percival chuckled.
"Right, of course," Arthur nodded, holding back more laughter. "Not like I have to come to your side every time we get attacked by bandits to keep you from getting killed."
Merlin smirked. If only they knew.
He insisted that they leave while Gaius was treating him. He didn't quite fancy the idea of them seeing the scars on his body.
In the end, Gaius threw them all out, getting frustrated when he couldn't treat his patient.
"Merlin," Gaius said after a few minutes of silence save for Merlin's pained gasps and ragged breathing. "Promise me one thing. Promise me you won't hide your injuries from me again. Not when I can help you."
Merlin bit his lip. "Okay."
----------------------------------------
The knights Merlin was assigned to were paid a visit by the king of Camelot and the next day, Merlin was assigned to new masters.
One of them was a knight from Ashwind and the other was one from Camelot.
"Why did you ask for me to be your servant for the remainder of the event?" Merlin questioned first thing when he barged through the door with his breakfast.
Leon smiled. "I was the only one who would accept a new servant."
"Leon, you don't have a set servant."
"Exactly."
Merlin laughed and shook his head as he put the food down on the table.
The one from Ashwind barely spoke a word except to give instructions, but that was far better than Sir Morgan who talked nothing but about his faults every minute he was in sight of him.
Though Merlin was happy with his new masters, the servant who replaced him was not. And he only discovered that when he came across the boy, a few years younger than him, being drowned by both Sir Edward and Sir Morgan in the horse's water tray as a vent for their frustrations from Arthur’s visit.
Merlin didn't hesitate. He marched forward with the sword he meant to be taking to Arthur and pointed it at the two knights.
"Let him go," he commanded.
The two turned to him, Sir Morgan still holding the boy's head under the water.
"Say," Morgan drawled with a sneer. "Isn't that the lazy, whiny servant boy who gave you a broken nose, Sir Edward?"
That was Gwaine, but Merlin held his tongue.
"Why yes it is," Edward stood up, his nose still bandaged. Merlin wondered how long it would take to heal if he broke it again. "Boy, you look stupid. Put that down."
"Only if you let go of that boy," Merlin said evenly, still keeping the sword up.
"You dare challenge us, knights who are far above you in importance and skill?"
"And it seems far from intelligence as well," Merlin snarked.
"Such arrogance I have never seen before!" Edward exclaimed.
"I have." Merlin gestured with the sword. "Right in front of me."
Sir Edward unsheathed his sword and pointed it at him. "Last chance."
"I can say the same for you." Merlin got into a fighting stance, the same one he had observed Arthur do many times. "Let go of the boy."
Sir Morgan and Edward glanced at each other and shared a grin.
Morgan lifted the boy's head, allowing him a small gasp then pushed it back under. "There," he said smugly. "Done."
"That is not what I meant." Merlin was furious now. Knight or no, he wasn't going to let the bullying— no, torture, carry on.
"You think you have the skill to last more than five seconds against me?" Edward sneered. "Let's see then. Come on. I'll give you the chance to go first."
Merlin didn't waste a moment in striking. He was blocked, but he managed to free his (Arthur's, whatever) sword and strike again.
Sir Edward blocked it once more and lashed out. Merlin quickly moved to parry. Then Edward struck again, and again, and again. He forced Merlin to go back while he dealt blow after blow which Merlin just managed to block.
He certainly did last more than five seconds, which seemed to surprise both the knights. Sir Edward redoubled his efforts.
Merlin was growing concerned for the boy since Morgan seemed too engrossed in watching the fight than paying attention to the feebly struggling person he was holding down.
A crowd was starting to gather, of commoners and nobles alike.
Merlin knew he would never be able to win with his sword-fighting skills. Certainly not with such trained knights. But he had another advantage.
Magic.
Merlin ducked and used the quick moment to mutter a spell and Edward's foot landed on an apple core that somehow rolled a few inches in front of his path.
He used the distraction of the knight finding his balance again to strike and pull the sword out of his hands.
The crowd gasped and Sir Morgan stood up in surprise, letting go of the boy.
Merlin breathed a silent sigh of relief as the boy coughed and spluttered, trying to get rid of the water he had inhaled. That was a good sign.
Unfortunately, his attention had to be immediately brought back to the fight as Sir Morgan now joined it.
Merlin parried with a grunt and moved a few steps back. Someone had tossed Sir Edward his sword too and now Merlin was facing off against two highly trained and recognized knights.
He couldn't risk using his magic often enough to stay in the fight for long without being caught. At least the boy was safe.
He blocked, ducked and moved backwards as the two furious knights advanced on him ruthlessly. That strategy was short-lived too when Sir Morgan victoriously managed to hit his sword at the hilt, causing him to drop it.
Merlin was now unarmed, with nothing to help him. All he could do was to duck and move out of the way as the swords tried to slice him open.
Damn it, he needed to get out of this somehow.
But the crowd was surrounding them on all sides and he would have to struggle and push through to run, in which time the two would catch up to him.
He was dead either way.
"Merlin!" a familiar voice called out and he spotted Gwen in the crowd.
"Gwen?" he frowned.
The distraction was enough for Morgan's sword to slice his forearm.
Merlin gasped as he clutched the wound, already spurting a significant amount of blood.
Morgan grinned as he kicked him on the chest, causing him to collapse on the floor. Merlin cried out as he landed on his wounded back. Before he could curl up, Morgan leveled the sword in front of his neck, the point nearly piercing his skin.
Merlin stopped moving and tried not to swallow.
"Pathetic boy," Morgan spat.
Edward came into view with a gleam in his eye. He pressed his sword against Merlin's side. "What say you we teach him a lesson?" he addressed Morgan.
Morgan grinned. "Aye."
Edward pushed the sword in, and a small pained grunt escaped his lips before he bit down on them.
The sword wasn't purged deep enough, but Merlin's effort to keep the tears from springing into his eyes failed.
"Would you look at that, he's crying," Edward laughed.
"Of course he is, Sir Edward. It is known that servants like him are all sensitive. What with scurrying about safely in their broken-down shacks, not having even a single scratch inflicted upon them."
"With the punishments pricks like you give? I'd say you're as ignorant as you are foolish," Merlin hissed.
"Silence!" Edward slashed his sword on his leg.
Merlin yelped in pain, raking the dirt floor with his fingers.
"Merlin!" Gwen hurried forward to his side. "Leave him alone! He has learned his lesson!"
"You, servant girl, have no right to interfere in these matters," Morgan growled.
"And you do not either," Gwen retorted, shooting both of them a glare. "It is your duty to protect the citizens as a knight. Not abuse them and try to kill them!"
The crowd around them started murmuring to each other. The two knights went red in embarrassment and anger.
"If you weren't such a pretty girl, I would be striking you down right this moment," Morgan threatened.
"Do it if you dare," Gwen snarled.
"Gwen don't." Merlin tugged her dressed. "Just leave."
"You don't tell me what to do, Merlin."
"I am right now. Please. I don't want you hurt."
"Neither do I."
"Gwen," Merlin looked at her with pleading eyes. "Please."
Gwen hesitated, but a look passed her eyes and she got up and ran.
Merlin breathed in relief. But a groan escaped him as Sir Edward pressed his blade where he had cut his leg.
"You've had your fun," Merlin shouted. "Shouldn't you be off training or something?"
"Not when our duties are required here as well," Sir Morgan smiled twistedly. "To put a servant in his rightful place. On your knees. Right now."
The blade from his thigh retracted and so did the one pointed at his throat, though it only moved back enough to let him up.
Merlin gritted his teeth and did as he was told. He gasped when his leg and side burned as he bent it to sit on his knees. His back was aflame too from the pressure of the ground pressing his wounds.
Morgan's sword was now pushing into his shoulder.
"Maybe this lesson will finally stick." He pushed the blade in further. "Never disrespect your betters."
"And I could say the same to you."
Everyone's eyes turned to where the crowd was parting.
The king of Camelot and the king of Ashwind stood with Gwen leading in front of them and four of Camelot's most trusted knights at the back.
Merlin made a mental note to send at least three bunches of flowers to Gwen later.
"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded.
Sir Edward and Sir Morgan froze.
Arthur's face was as red as the Camelot cape he was wearing. Merlin amused himself by picturing a tomato next to his face.
"King Ailith," he faced the ruler of Ashwind. "May I ask why your knights, the very people who have been assigned to protect, are currently attacking my manservant? May I also ask why there have been several reports of your knights mistreating my servants who are there to simply serve them and make them feel welcome and comfortable? Why are your knights abusing my citizens?"
King Ailith seemed to be rather angry himself. "I was not aware of the arrogant attitudes of my knights," he spoke slowly, but full of authority. "I do not condone this sort of behavior, and for that, I sincerely offer my apologies on their behalf. I will see to it that they will get the punishment they deserve." He turned to Arthur. "In fact, I will personally see to it. Your citizens, commoners, servants, knights and noblemen alike, have been nothing but warm and welcoming. I am indeed horrified to hear that their efforts have not been treated well. Ashwind is a most honorable and fair kingdom, and I regret to hear you say that we have not been showing those virtues."
Arthur nodded. He turned back to the two knights and Merlin who was still on his knees.
"Get Merlin away from them," he ordered.
The knights behind him happily volunteered. The two approached them. Gwaine snatched the sword from Edward, shoving him forcefully in the process. Elyan was more subtle, taking Morgan's sword and shooting him a dirty look. Meanwhile, Leon and Percival helped Merlin up.
"Thanks," Merlin whispered. They returned it with smiles.
"Sir Edward, Sir Morgan, if you will follow me to one of the spare council meeting rooms of the palace," King Ailith ordered.
The two men had their eyes down in shame as they nodded.
"You will also find that Sir Allen is responsible for using Merlin for target practice when it is clearly not in his job description and Lady Fabia from your court has been constantly leaving bruises on the servants' wrists," Arthur added.
Gwen looked smug.
"I will be giving you a list of names from your court who have wronged Camelot's citizens," Arthur went on. "I know there are culprits in my court as well, and this situation has brought an excellent chance to review their behavior."
Ailith nodded before marching back to the palace, the two knights and his servants in tow.
"Bring Merlin to Gaius," Arthur told the knights before walking in the direction of the old physician's chambers.
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Merlin groaned and grumbled throughout the whole walk, complaining about how Gwaine was horrible at supporting him, then about how Percival's height was making him uncomfortable, about how hard it would be to get the blood out of his clothes, about how slowly they all were walking, about how Arthur could have said the dramatic speech after he was at Gaius’.
"But nooo, I had to listen to your overdramatic ass spouting out self-righteous words while I was bleeding on the ground."
"Merlin, if you do not shut up, I will have you in the stocks for the next three days," Arthur groaned.
Merlin smirked. "How could you threaten me after just saying how bad mistreating your servants was? Never knew you to be a hypocrite."
Gwaine snickered while Leon, Elyan and Percival tried to control their smiles. Gwen didn't put up any appearances and laughed.
They finally arrived and Gaius took one look at the blood dripping down Merlin's clothes to the floor and directed them to set him on the nearest cot.
"Again, Merlin?" he sighed.
"I was only saving one of the younger servants from being drowned!"
Gaius shook his head but wasted no time in pulling out bandage strips and other ointments and potions to keep the cuts from getting infected.
"Cuts are a bit of an understatement, I feel," Gaius said as he took a look at the one on Merlin's side. "They're bad enough to be classified as stab wounds."
"Light stab wounds," Merlin corrected.
"The one on your side is the most cause for concern, you're going to have to take your shirt off, Merlin. I cannot get to it from here."
With Gwen's help, they slowly peeled the blood-soaked clothes off.
As soon as they were off, the scars and bandages were fully visible and on display to everyone in the room. So far, only Gaius knew the true story behind Merlin's scars since he was the one who had helped treat them from many magical mishaps and misadventures as well as mistreatment from the nobles. The others… were not quite so aware.
"Shit," Gwaine exclaimed, his eyes nearly popping out. "What the hell happened to you? Did you get trampled by beasts with claws or something?"
Merlin was thankful that the bandages were covering most of his other scars along with the cane marks.
"Merlin… is that a serket sting?" Arthur pointed.
Merlin looked down at the scar, then back up at Arthur. "No it isn't," he said smoothly.
"Like hell it isn't, I'd recognize that anywhere," Elyan gasped.
"Surely all of these didn't happen because of punishments given by nobles?" Leon interrupted.
Merlin shrugged. He was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the attention. And the cool air touching the wounds just made it burn more. His bandages seem to require changing too because he could feel the hot blood oozing from the wounds under it.
Gaius must have spotted his discomfort, because he turned to the men and said, "If you insist on being here, then maybe try not to distress my patient even further."
At least they had the sense to look sheepish.
"Were you all together when Gwen fetched you?" Merlin asked as a distraction.
"Yes," Arthur replied. "I was waiting on you to bring me my sword with them when King Ailith approached and asked if I cared for a spar. You still hadn't returned with my practice sword so I had to borrow Gwaine's." He casted a side glance at him. "Which, I swear, smelled like mead."
"I think you might be hallucinating that, sire," Gwaine picked his nails.
"Right. We were halfway through our spar when Gwen came running, shouting that you were dying and giving all of us a prompt heart attack."
"I did not have time to explain," Gwen defended. "It was a matter of urgency anyway."
"Right," Arthur pursed his lips. "And that was when we came to you."
Merlin nodded. "Thank you, Gwen."
"What are friends for?" she smiled.
"Speaking of," Arthur cleared his throat. "Where is my sword."
"On the ground," Merlin answered.
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "On the ground?"
"Yep."
"And what is it doing on the ground?"
Merlin smiled.
"Wait…" Arthur made a face. "Did you use my sword to fight them?"
Merlin hesitated. "Ah. Uh, yes."
"Merlin."
"I had to defend myself somehow! You should be honored that your sword helped in that."
Arthur looked at him incredulously while Gwaine snorted. "You're saying, that I, a king, should be honored that my sword participated in a fight between an untrained servant and two arrogant knights?"
"There you go. You said it yourself."
"Merlin!" He slapped the back of his head.
"Ow!" Merlin exclaimed, exaggerating the pain. "Gaius, Arthur nearly gave me a concussion!"
"What?"
Gwaine started laughing.
"Sire, if you aren't here to help, then may I suggest you get out of my chambers."
Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance, but he wasn't really angry. This was just their usual banter. With no consequences except a poorly aimed goblet or a light smack to the head.
Merlin was truly grateful for them. He had certainly scored in the category of finding friends. He knew they would do anything for him just as he would do anything for them.
"When will I expect you to return to your duties?" Arthur asked.
Merlin grinned. "Why? Can't you even dress yourself, my lord? Do you really need an injured servant tending to basic skills?"
"Shut up, Merlin."