Summary: A hunting trip and a wayward arrow making for an interesting time for Arthur and Merlin.

Once again, many thanks to my awesome beta, sarajm, for some excellent suggestions and invaluable proofing.

I Shot an Arrow into the Air …

It was quiet in the woods; the only sounds were the faint callings of birds and the gentle murmur of water as it splashed over the stones in the creek nearby. Two hunters were hunkered down, almost flat on the ground, behind a grouping of bushes, breathing lightly.

Arthur's eyes were fixed on the edge of a small clearing about 25 metres away; he could just about make out the hindquarters of a deer in amongst the trees and shrubs. Arthur looked the epitome of the focused hunter: calm, quiet, alert, with bow in hand and arrow already notched.

Merlin, on the other hand, resembled nothing more than a small mouse, what with the way his nose wrinkled at the scents around him and his eyes darted from one tree to the next, tracking birds, bees, and possibly even the wind.

A sharp rap on his knuckles brought Merlin back to the present. Arthur was staring at him with a look of exasperation on his face, which led the young warlock to believe that Arthur had been trying to get his attention for several moments.

A stern look and raised eyebrows said, "Are you paying attention now, Merlin?"

After getting a quick nod from his servant, Arthur started making some hand gestures. First, the Prince pointed towards the small clearing, obviously trying to indicate something to Merlin but though he stared very hard he couldn't see what Arthur pointing towards. Then, Arthur proceeded to tap his chest, point left, point at Merlin and finally swept his arm to the right.

Okay, Merlin actually figured that one out … presumably that meant Arthur would go left and he would go right. He nodded his understanding. But the next set of signals totally confused the poor servant. Suddenly, it looked to Merlin like Arthur was practicing some obscure form of mimicry, or dance, or something. Arthur waggled his fingers, pointed at his two eyes, waved his hand side to side, dropped his hand low so it was parallel to the ground, nudged Merlin in the shoulder and then took off, in a low crouch, towards the left.

Merlin was so surprised - and confused - at this example of Arthur's apparent descent into insanity that he was stunned for a few seconds. But then, realizing that the Prince was expecting him to do something, he did the only thing he could. He headed off towards the right to circle around the clearing, desperately peering into the foliage to see if he could (1) determine what they were hunting, (2) see where Arthur had gotten to and (3) figure out what he was going to do when he finally reached the open patch of ground.

The dark-haired servant cautiously crept towards the edge of the tree line, but it was only when he was almost on top if it did he see the deer. Unfortunately, the deer also saw him! The two creatures stood there, staring at each other for what seemed an eternity to the lad, but was not more than a few heartbeats, when Merlin finally figured out what Arthur meant by all his gesturing. Merlin was supposed to drive the deer into the open ground so Arthur could get a good shot with his arrow.

But … the animal was so beautiful, staring at him with large, soulful brown eyes and with a coat that looked as soft as velvet. The deer let out a soft huff and Merlin felt its warm, moist breath whisper across his face. He couldn't let Arthur kill it, even if that was the goal of their expedition. The Royal Kitchens were always looking to replenish their meat supplies and Arthur had promised to return with something. But Merlin determined that it would not be this deer. He'd scare it off and try to convince the Prince that a few rabbits were just as good.

During all this, Arthur had been slowly making his way downwind and by now had circled up behind the deer. He couldn't see his servant anywhere and, to be honest, was berating himself for having brought Merlin along. As usual, the lad was proving to be quite useless during a hunting trip; honestly, it was almost as if the boy had never been outdoors the way he gawked at everything around him. And the talking! Arthur was beginning to believe that his servant had no understanding of the word "silence". Merlin had been chattering away at Arthur almost since the moment they left the main gates of the city. Arthur found it actually quite exhausting listening to him ramble on about this and that!

Suddenly, Arthur heard a small huffing sound and he looked up. The deer had tensed the muscles in its hindquarters and was obviously getting ready to bound away. His idiot manservant must have made some noise or something. There was no choice for it now; Arthur was going to have to take the shot even though the angle wasn't ideal and the chances were very small that he'd actually down the animal.

He quietly raised his bow and drew back the arrow, taking careful aim on the animal's flank. Suddenly, the deer's head came up and it took off heading deeper into the trees and cover. Arthur's options were limited: either let the deer go or shoot and hope he hit it.

But one thing Arthur had never lacked was faith in his abilities, so he let his arrow fly … and not two seconds later a loud shout filled the air. The birds that had been quietly sitting in the trees flew off calling and squawking and for a few moments the air was filled with so much noise that it battered Arthur's eardrums.

With a sinking feeling, Arthur could only think of one thing, one person, who could have let out such a sound; but what could have happened?

While Arthur had been taking aim, Merlin had still been standing face-to-face with the woodland creature. Determined to allow it to escape, Merlin took a quick look around and not seeing Arthur anywhere, raised his arms to scare the deer away. In the same instant as the deer ran off, Merlin saw something flash by only to disappear into the bushes and then he felt a burning pain in his arm. He was so surprised at this that he yelled out and then took a look at his right arm. There was a tear in both his jacket and shirt sleeves, and he was bleeding!

As Merlin lowered his arm to inspect the damage, he could hear Arthur crashing through the underbrush heading towards him and yelling, "Merlin! Merlin! Answer me! I hit something, but I don't think it was the deer. Where are you? Answer me."

"I'm here, Arthur," answered the boy, and before he could say anything further, Arthur was in front of him, staring at Merlin's hand as blood dripped down to the leaves below.

"Merlin, you're hurt! What happened? What did you do?" demanded Arthur as he dropped his bow and reached out to take Merlin's arm. "Here, let me."

"Yes, of course," responded Merlin as Arthur gently grasped his right arm, pulled it towards him and rotated it so he could get a better look at the wound. Through the tears in the clothing, Arthur could see a long, bloody cut on the fleshy inside of Merlin's arm and he suddenly realized that what he had feared had in fact occurred.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry Merlin," said Arthur as he released his manservant's arm and began trying to get his jacket off. "My arrow obviously hit you and not the deer. Get your jacket and shirt off; we've got to clean your arm to see how bad this is, and we've got to stop the bleeding somehow."

It was apparent that Arthur was quite distraught at what had transpired, considering the manner in which he was pulling on Merlin's jacket, and mumbling to himself about water and leaves and bandages and looking a little frantic; well he looked frantic at least to his manservant's eyes!

"Arthur, I'm fine. Really! Would you please just let go of me and take a deep breath. I can take off my jacket myself. Stop worrying," said Merlin as he tried to disentangle himself from Arthur's grip.

At Merlin's words, Arthur looked up from where he was grasping the lad's shoulders and noticed the way Merlin was looking at him. Suddenly aware that he had exposed a bit more of his concern that he had intended, Arthur slammed his walls back up. Letting go of his servant, he stepped back and took a deep breath.

"I'm not worried; it's only a flesh wound," retorted Arthur. "You'll be fine once we get you cleaned up a bit and get that bandaged. But so much for our hunting trip. Wait a minute … how did the arrow get you instead? You were nowhere to be seen."

"Oh, um, I'm not sure," mumbled Merlin as he frantically tried to think of a way to shift Arthur's focus off the missed deer and back onto his damaged arm. "I was following your instructions, but the deer must have moved or something because as soon as I neared the clearing it was right in front of me."

Not wanting Arthur to realize that he had planned on scaring the deer away, Merlin added, "I think we were both so surprised that we froze for a second or two. And then it suddenly raised its head and took off towards those trees there. It must have heard you." Merlin tried to gesture but as he raised his injured arm, he hissed in pain. Grimacing, he held his arm close to his chest and added, "You must have shot the arrow just as the deer moved, and instead I got it in the arm. Just bad luck I suppose."

"Bad luck indeed. That's the story of your life, Merlin, from what I've seen," retorted Arthur with a very small grin on his face. "Take off your jacket and your shirt. We need to get this bandaged before you bleed to death!"

Merlin just grinned at his Prince and attempted to slide his jacket down his arm, but though the wound to his arm did not seem too serious, it was still very painful and Merlin hissed as the fabric brushed against the wound.

"Here, let me help," said Arthur as he gently manoeuvred Merlin's right arm out of the sleeve and then pulled his jacket off completely. "Now for the shirt."

As Merlin raised his left arm to grasp the back of the collar to pull it up over his head, Arthur pushed his arm back down and said, "You'll just aggravate your little scratch. I'll do it," and proceeded to quickly, yet carefully, pull Merlin's shirt off.

The two young men stood there staring at Merlin's arm for a couple of seconds, Merlin quite fascinated at the length and appearance of the wound and Arthur staring at the bloody mess of Merlin's limb with a look of regret in his eyes.

With a shake of his head, Arthur brought his thoughts back to bear on the situation in front of him and said, "At least there's water close by, and once your arm has been cleaned up, I'll bandage it."

At the mention of the creek, Merlin had turned away ready to head towards the water when he heard a loud ripping behind him. Turning back, he saw Arthur was tearing his shirt into long strips.

"Oi! What're you doing? That's my shirt!" yelled Merlin.

"Well, of course it's your shirt, Merlin; you just took it off," responded Arthur as he looked over at his now-incensed manservant. Looking down at the torn pieces of cloth in his hands, Arthur realized why Merlin was so upset. "It's just a shirt, Merlin! Besides, I'll need some bandages to wrap around your arm once it's been cleaned. And don't worry," he added, "I'll make sure to replace it once we're back in Camelot. In fact, you can have one my old ones."

"Well, what am I supposed to wear in the meantime, now that my clothing is all torn up, hmm?"

"Don't panic; you've still got your jacket. Now let's get your arm dealt with," responded Arthur as he headed away from the clearing and back towards the creek.

"You've still got your jacket," muttered Merlin sarcastically to himself as he trailed along after his Prince, his jacket clutched tightly in his hand. "I'll expect a replacement shirt the minute we return, and it better not be almost worn through or full of holes!" called Merlin towards Arthur's back.

Arthur just waved his hand and called back over his shoulder, "Well, if it's full of holes, you have no one to blame but yourself, Merlin. After all, it's your job to fix them."

Whereas Arthur was a man on a mission, Merlin, his pain and shock catching up to him, had fallen a ways back so that by the time he arrived at the creek, Arthur had already had enough time to put the majority of the fabric pieces on a conveniently-placed rock and was wringing out a piece that he'd dunked in the water.

"Come here," he ordered his manservant, "so I can wash off the blood and see what we're dealing with."

Merlin placed his jacket by the rock and stepped up to Arthur, holding out his right arm for treatment. Arthur carefully encased Merlin's wrist in a tight clasp and drew his arm straight out from his side. "Try not to move, as I'm sure it's going to hurt," said Arthur as he applied the wet cloth to the wound and began to gently wipe away the blood.

Merlin held his breath to prevent himself from letting a groan as the wet fabric rubbed against the tender flesh and caught on the raw edges of the scratch. "Sorry … sorry," murmured Arthur as he continued to clean Merlin's wound.

"It's fine; I'm fine," answered Merlin as he squirmed a bit. "it's just that the water's cold!"

"Of course it's cold, Merlin. Don't be such a baby. Stop moving and I'll be finished in a moment." Though his words were harsh, Arthur was actually looking quite woe begotten and his voice was very quiet.

Once he arm was cleaned up, Merlin could see that the damage was actually relatively minimal. Granted, the wound was long and quite raw-looking in places, but it was not much more than a deep scratch and would surely heal quite quickly.

As Arthur was tying off the bandage he'd wrapped around Merlin's upper arm, he said, "I honestly didn't see you; I would never have loosed the arrow like I did if I'd known you were close by."

"Arthur, it's fine. You saw … I only got a bit of a scratch. Yes, it hurts, but it will heal cleanly I'm sure. I know it was an accident, so please stop apologizing." As Arthur was still looking a bit down in the mouth Merlin added, in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Actually, it's a good thing you're such a poor shot … I've come away with nothing more than a bad scratch, and a good story to tell at the tavern!".

"Merlin, that's not funny," snapped Arthur as he picked up the lad's jacket and started to help him back into it. "Like any good hunter, I should have been more aware of my surroundings. You've been injured because of my idiocy. Anyway, let's go get the horses and head back to Camelot. I think we've done enough for today," and he turned away and headed back towards the area where they'd tied up their horses.

Merlin stood there for a couple of seconds watching his Prince's back as he walked away. From the set of his shoulders, Merlin could tell that Arthur was still very upset, and that wasn't something Merlin was willing to let continue. What had happened was nothing more than an unfortunate accident; yes, it was bad luck that he'd been grazed by the arrow, but in the end, he'd only been … grazed by the arrow. It could have turned out so much worse.

'Great,' thought Merlin as he headed off to catch up with Arthur, 'now not only does my arm hurt, I've now got to get that brooding clot-pole out of his head or he'll be miserable the entire trip home.'

By the time Merlin reached the copse where they'd tied up their horses, Arthur had already strapped his bow to his saddle and was standing beside Merlin's horse with his hands clasped, ready to assist the lad in mounting.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" questioned the servant as he approached his horse.

"I'm giving you a leg up; I thought that would have been obvious from the way I'm standing here."

"I don't need your help, Arthur; I think I can manage it on my own," said Merlin with a shake of his head.

"Oh, really?" was the sarcastic response that came from the Prince. "Go on then, mount up. We don't have all day."

"Fine," stated the servant as he untied the reins from the low-hanging branch and then tried to raise his arm to grasp the saddle. He only managed to bring his arm up about 90 degrees before the bandage pulled tight, and his wound began to protest. With a grimace and a very small moan, Merlin slowly lowered his arm and looked quite shamefacedly at Arthur. "Um … Arthur … I think maybe …"

"Merlin, let me help," said Arthur in a quiet voice as he stepped back towards his manservant and once again cupped his hands. "There's no shame in needing assistance when you're injured; you'd do the same for me."

Merlin gave Arthur a good, long look that was part gratitude and part surprise, and then willingly accepted Arthur's aid. Once both young men were mounted, Arthur said, "Merlin, I think we've both suffered enough today. Let's just head back to Camelot and then Gaius can give your arm a proper seeing to."

"All right, Arthur. But we should stop to check the rabbit snares we set out. We'll be passing right by them and it would be a shame to return to Camelot empty-handed," said Merlin as he settled himself in his saddle.

Arthur glanced over and seeing that his servant was ready, nodded and turned his horse along the trail towards the snares and home.

They two men rode on for about ten minutes before they came to the first of their traps. Merlin kicked his feet from his stirrups and was preparing to dismount when Arthur reached over, grasped his left arm and demanded, "What are you doing?!"

"Um … I was going to check the snares; what do you think I was doing?" answered Merlin with great confusion.

"What do I think you were doing? I think you were going to do something stupid, like get off your horse, fight your way through the underbrush to check the snares, presumably gather up any rabbits we'd caught, fight your way back through the underbrush, and then try to get back on your horse!" retorted Arthur angrily.

"Yeeessss … so what's the problem, then?" queried the warlock.

"Merlin, in case you can't remember, you've got AN INJURED ARM! You can't just jump down and scrabble around in the bushes. You'll just make it worse. Sometimes, Merlin, I don't think you have the sense of a swallow! You just sit tight, hold my horse and I'll check the snares." With that pronouncement, Arthur slipped off his horse, handed his reins to Merlin and headed off, muttering under his breath all the while.

Merlin was forced to just sit there, shaking his head in bewilderment at what had just gone on. Okay, so maybe he hadn't give his plan too much forethought, but to be honest his arm really wasn't causing him too much trouble. So yes … maybe he would have needed some assistance get back on his horse, and maybe pushing through the undergrowth may not have been the best idea, and maybe he'd have had some difficulty releasing any rabbits they'd caught from the snares … but he wasn't an invalid!

Merlin was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that Arthur had returned to his side, with a couple of rabbits in hand, until a hand touched his knee and voice said, "Success! Let's hope we're as lucky with other traps we set. Let me just strap these to your saddle and we can continue." Poor Merlin jumped with fright at Arthur's pronouncement and Arthur just looked at him, eyes wide.

"Are you okay, Merlin?"

"Fine, I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't hear you come back and you just startled me when you spoke."

"If you say so," responded Arthur, with a slight bit of worry in his voice. But as he tied the rabbits to the saddle, mounted his horse and led the way to the next set of snares, Arthur was thinking all the while. His concern for his frie… manservant … was deepening. Despite outward appearances and despite Arthur's many comments to the contrary, Merlin was quite level-headed and was usually quite aware of what was going on around him. The lack of focus he'd just seen in Merlin worried him. Of course, Arthur had no idea that Merlin was only lost in his thoughts, not ailing or suffering in any manner.

As they continued on, Arthur was the one check the snares, each time leaving Merlin with strict instructions to "just sit there and don't do anything stupid." As well, about every five minutes or so, Arthur would turn to stare at his servant just to make sure that everything was all right with the injured lad.

After having caught Arthur's gaze for the third time, Merlin snapped, "What?! Why are you staring at me?"

"Are you okay, Merlin?" came the non-answer.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"How's the arm?"

"Good. It's good."

"Do you need to stop for a moment?"

Though he was hurting, all Merlin wanted was to get back to Camelot as soon as possible, so his response to the interrogation was, ""No, Arthur, I'm fine. Let's just keep going."

This exchange occurred a number of times before Arthur pulled his horse to a stop and looking over at Merlin said, "Merlin. There's no point in lying to me. I can see you're upset and in pain."

As Arthur dismounted and tied up his horse he added, "And do you what to know how I can tell you're hurting? One: you're holding the reins in your left hand only; two: you're holding your right arm close to your chest and three: you've been making huffing noises for the past few minutes. So, what we're going to do right now is you're going to get off your horse and go sit on that rock over there and I'm going to take another look at your arm. All right?"

Merlin just looked down at his master with a look of fond bemusement on his face. Arthur really was taking this whole "guilt trip" too far, in Merlin's opinion. The young warlock hadn't said anything recriminating about how he was wounded and he really was feeling fine, considering. Of course the wound was painful but what was upsetting Merlin the most was the way Arthur had been treating him. He wasn't an invalid! It was a scratch! But from the way Arthur had been acting, he made it seem like Merlin was on death's door. And if Merlin was 'huffing' it was more to do with his frustration from at their slow progress, rather than from agonizing pain or something equally ridiculous.

But taking another look at Arthur's face made Merlin realize that all this mother-henning he was being subjected to was Arthur's way of apologizing. 'Well,' though Merlin, 'if it makes him feel better, maybe I should just let him keep on acting the way he's acting.'

So instead of arguing, Merlin just said in a quiet voice, "Arthur, would you mind helping me down? My arm really hurts right now."

"Of course Merlin. And see … I knew what I was talking about. You are in pain, so next time, speak up."

Once Merlin was seated, and his jacket was off, Arthur unwrapped his arm and took a good look at the wound. It was still bleeding, but only very slightly in a couple of spots, but all in all it was looking good. "Well, Merlin," said Arthur, "I'm pleased to say there doesn't seem to be any inflammation, but you'll still have to be careful."

Merlin smiled the good news and immediately stood and started to pull on his jacket. "Great!" he said, with a smile on his face, "We've got one more set of snares to check on our way back to Camelot, so let's get moving. If we push, we should be able to make it back sometime tonight!"

"Hold on a minute. What's your rush?" said Arthur as he proceeded to sit himself down on the rock recently abandoned by his servant and slowly take off his gloves. "I said your arm was looking good; I didn't say it was perfect. I'd still like to give it another cleaning and some fresh bandaging and then I think we'll set up camp for tonight right here. We'll continue on to Camelot in the morning."

Know that there was no way he was going to change his Prince's mind – the man could be so stubborn at times! – Merlin simply answered, "Of course, Arthur," and walked over to his horse and began unstrapping the various bits and bobs, and rabbits, which had been tied to his saddle. But, as he reached up to remove his horse's bridle, his arm pulled and he hissed lowly with pain.

Before he could try again, Arthur was beside him saying, "I've got this; you go find the rest of the bandaging and once I've hobbled both horses, I'll rewrap your arm."

"Bandaging, ha! You mean what's left of my shirt!" answered Merlin with a snort as he began digging through Arthur's saddle pack for the rags.

Finding the cloths, Merlin sat on a rock waiting for Arthur, thinking all the while. He was getting quite fed up with continually trying to convince Arthur he was well enough to handle his usual duties and he just wanted things to return to normal. 'Maybe', he thought, 'the answer is really quite simple. After all, if Arthur's going to continue to treat me like an invalid, I may just have to act like one. I'm sure he'll quickly get tired of waiting on me and then I can go back to being his servant, rather than his patient. Where's the harm in that? Besides, it might be nice to be pampered for a little bit.' Decision made, Merlin slumped his shoulders and tried to look weak and pathetic.

Arthur immediately came rushing over and, looking at his servant, exclaimed, "Merlin! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Fine, Arthur. I'm fine," answered Merlin feebly. "It's just that I think I must have aggravated my arm when I tried to remove the bridle. It's throbbing a bit right now, that's all". While that was a bit of an exaggeration, his arm was sore, so Merlin didn't feel too bad about embellishing the truth a little.

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. Sometimes I seriously wonder about you!" Grasping Merlin's right arm and pulling it towards him in order to get a better look, Arthur added, "I'll wash it off again and then wrap it up in new bandages. Then, you are going to just sit there and rest while I go gather some firewood. I don't want you doing anything strenuous."

"Of course, Arthur. Whatever you think is best," responded the warlock as he desperately tried to keep from smiling.

Not ten minutes later, Merlin was relaxing on the ground, his arm newly bandaged and his jacket back on, watching while Arthur wandered around collecting firewood. As he came back and dropped the pile of wood next to Merlin's feet, the lad got a good look at what Arthur had collected.

"Arthur, you'll need to get some smaller pieces to act as kindling. You do know that these pieces you've brought are all too big to start a fire, right?"

Ready with a quick retort, Arthur actually looked at what he had collected before he spoke and, realizing his servant was right, instead muttered a sarcastic, "I know, Merlin," before heading further into the bushes to find some kindling.

On his return to camp, arms now full of smaller branches, Arthur quickly got the fire laid and then lit it. Well, he attempted to light it, but it was just not cooperating. Arthur was hunched over the neat pile of sticks, furiously striking flint to steel and trying to get the resulting sparks to catch the wood, but he was having no luck. Merlin, seated across the unlit fire watching Arthur growing more and more impatient, was smiling to himself and finally spoke up: "Arthur, it's no wonder you can't get the fire started; the wood's too damp. Do you want me to try?"

Arthur just glared at his servant and moved position so his back was now to Merlin. "Merlin, I know what I'm doing," Arthur snapped as he once again tried - and once again failed - to get the wood to light. "I'll have this lit in just a second. You just need to have some patience."

"Unlike you," muttered the warlock under his breath. Watching Arthur getting more and more frustrated, Merlin finally took pity on the man. He murmured a quiet 'forbearnan' and as his eyes flashed golden, the fire caught.

"Ha!" cried Arthur joyously. "And you thought I couldn't do it," he said with a grin as he turned to his servant.

"My apologies, Sire. I have shown a great lack of faith in your abilities," answered Merlin with a cheeky grin. "Please forgive me."

Arthur snorted and then the two young men laughed out loud. "Now, let's get dinner," announced Arthur as he picked up one of the rabbits they'd caught and proceeded to skin it.

Merlin watched as Arthur very skilfully prepared the rabbit for cooking. His offer to help was, of course, refused with a stern, "Merlin, what have I been saying? You just sit there and try not to do something stupid like, oh I don't know, strain your arm".

The fire was crackling merrily, and once Arthur had hung the spitted rabbit over the flames, he sat back and turning to Merlin said, "How are you feeling? Is the arm still throbbing? I will say that you are looking a little better than you did earlier."

"Well," said Merlin slowly as he thought about how to answer the question. He was actually quite enjoying the pampering he was receiving from Arthur, but he didn't want to outright lie to his Prince. "Actually, I am feeling a little better; the throbbing isn't as bad as it was before you cleaned and re-wrapped the scra… wound! … but it still hurts to move my arm."

The two young men sat there, each wrapped in their own thoughts, when suddenly Merlin's nose wrinkled as he smelled something burning. Quickly looking up, he saw their dinner engulfed in flames.

"Arthur," cried Merlin, "the rabbit!"

"Gods!" yelled Arthur as he quickly leapt to his feet and ran over to the fire to rescue their dinner. He tried to grab the end of the skewer but it was too hot to hold. Searching desperately for something to protect his hand, he suddenly found it filled with several pieces of cloth.

"Use those," said Merlin. "And hurry up, or we'll have nothing to eat!"

"Right, good thinking," responded Arthur as he quickly wrapped a few pieces of cloth around his hand and then reached over and grabbed the end of the skewer just as it was starting to slip into the fire. Some purposeful blowing across their now scorched dinner at least managed to subdue the flames, but that also made the now-pathetic nature of their dinner more apparent. The meat was black and looked inedible. Arthur just stood there, staring at their charred dinner with a look of surprise and embarrassment on his face.

"Maybe it's not so bad, Arthur," said Merlin as he looked at the hunk of black … well, it couldn't really be called 'meat' at this point, it looked more like a lump of coal … stuck to the skewer. "Maybe part is still salvageable."

"Really Merlin? Salvageable? Look at it! It looks like a chunk of rock, and I can tell you that it feels about as hard as a rock as well," responded Arthur as he poked at it with a forefinger. "Maybe you don't mind giving it a go, but I'd like to keep all my teeth, thank you very much!"

As Merlin watched Arthur poking at the meat and looking dejected, he began to chuckle. It had turned out to be the most ridiculous day and this was just the icing on the cake, so to speak! His chuckle quickly turned into a full out belly-laugh and soon Arthur began to appreciate the humour in the situation and he began laughing as well. Soon enough, the two were laying on the ground, wiping their tearing eyes and gasping for breath.

"You should have seen your face, Arthur, when you got a good look at dinner! It was priceless," giggled Merlin.

"Maybe so," responded Arthur, as he tried to catch his breath, "but you didn't look much better, I'll wager. And now, what are we going to do about dinner, hmmm?"

Still chortling, Merlin got up and staggered over to his saddle bags. "I've got some cheese and bread in my bag, and there are a couple of apples as well. They'll make a lovely meal," he said with a smile as he rooted around in the bag. Standing up and making his way back to Arthur, who was still lying on the ground trying to catch his breath, Merlin sat down and tried to pass a portion of their meagre meal to his Prince. But, in all the laughter, he'd forgotten the injury to his arm and as he reached over, it made itself known. Merlin winced and muttered a quiet "ouch", but Arthur heard and quickly sat up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just forgot for a second that I was hurt," said Merlin quickly as he handed the food over.

Arthur said nothing, but instead gave his servant a knowing look. Still, he kept quiet on the subject of injuries and instead the two men ate their dinner and relaxed in front of the fire, chatting about the comings and goings in Camelot and in particular the new batch of squires that were soon to start their training with Sir Leon.

The moon was high in the sky and the woods were quiet and calm when Merlin yawned and announced, "Well, that's it for me. If you don't mind, Arthur, I'm going to get some sleep."

"Of course, Merlin. I think I'll bed down as well. Do you think I should take another look at your arm?"

"No, Arthur. The bandaging is still tight and clean, so I think it will be okay until morning." And with that, Merlin rolled himself in his blanket and was asleep in mere moments.

Arthur looked over at his sleeping servant, and berated himself again for his inattention earlier in the day. If he hadn't been so eager to bring home a deer; if he had only been more careful, more aware of his surroundings, he never would have loosed his bow and injured Merlin. He felt guilty … Merlin was his servant, his responsibility to protect and yet he was the one to cause him pain. Fortunately, though he couldn't quite understand why, Merlin didn't seem to be holding a grudge and instead seemed to want to calm Arthur's mind. It was surprising to Arthur that a mere servant would care enough to try to ease Arthur's guilt; but on second thought, Arthur realized that Merlin was no mere servant. He'd seen enough of him to know that Merlin was, in actual fact, a caring young man who worried about everyone else before himself.

'Ah, well,' thought Arthur. 'Tomorrow we'll be back in Camelot and I'll feel much better once Gaius has had the opportunity to check Merlin over and ensure he's in no danger from infection or possibly something even worse.' Arthur didn't know what he'd do if it turned out that the injury was more serious that it seemed. On that solemn thought, Arthur lay down beside the damped-down fire and slept.

The dawn chorus woke Arthur early the next morning. Looking over and seeing that his servant was still deeply asleep, Arthur decided that the time had come for a little bit of payback. The dark-haired lad was always overly chatty and much too cheerful when he came to wake Arthur in the mornings, despite knowing that Arthur was definitely not a morning person! With a sly grin on his face, Arthur crept over to the sleeping servant, crouched down and then proceeded to yell in his ear, "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

Poor Merlin got the scare of his life and his eyes flew open at the same time as every muscle in his body tensed. Then the sound of laughter washed over him and he realized that nothing was wrong; well, nothing other than Arthur being a total prat! Merlin rolled over onto his back, rubbed his eyes and then attempted to sit up. Only … over night the muscles in his arm had tightened and as he tried to put weight on his right arm, it almost collapsed underneath him. He managed to save himself before he fell back to the ground, but the movements pulled his arm and elicited a loud, drawn-out "Owwwww" from the still half-asleep warlock.

On hearing the exclamation, Arthur quickly stopped laughing and as he hurried over to help Merlin to his feet, he exclaimed, "Merlin, I'm sorry. Are you okay? You didn't make your arm worse did you? Here, let me see," and quickly unwrapping the limb, Arthur got a good look at the scratch.

"Arthur, don't worry," said Merlin as he, too, examined his arm. "That was totally my fault. I shouldn't have tried to put any weight on my arm, but I honestly completely forgot that it was hurt."

"Well, considering it looks like it's well on the way to healing, I don't think you did it any more damage. It probably just stiffened up overnight; take it easy for a little bit and you should be able to move without too much pain soon," responded Arthur as he re-wrapped the bandages around Merlin's arm.

After a quick breakfast of more bread and cheese, Arthur saddled both horses while Merlin doused their fire and rolled up their blankets. This, apparently, was the most strenuous work Arthur would let him do because, "you're still injured, Merlin."

It was late morning when the two cantered through the main gates into Camelot. As two stable boys came forward to take their horses, Arthur quickly grabbed their bags, his bow, the two blanket rolls and the rabbits and headed across the courtyard. Merlin was left standing there, dumbfounded, as Arthur staggered under the weight of his precarious load, which wobbled and tilted as the Prince headed up the grand stairs into the castle. When a loud "Come along, Merlin" floated through the air, the servant just looked over at the equally surprised-looking lad who was holding his horse, shrugged his shoulders and quickly followed his Prince up the stairs.

All too soon, they arrived at Gaius' chambers and with a nudge of his boot, Arthur swung the door open and marched in. At the noise the two young men were making, Gaius looked up from his worktable and saw Arthur buried under a mound of supplies and provisions with Merlin traipsing along behind, with arms empty and a sheepish look on his face.

"Arthur!" exclaimed Gaius and he rushed over to help with the process of freeing the Prince from the various bags and rolls he had wrapped around him. "What is going on? Merlin, don't just stand there. Give him a hand, boy!"

"No, Merlin. Go sit down and let Gaius look at your arm. I'll be fine," responded Arthur as he unceremoniously dropped everything to the ground with a loud thud.

At this pronouncement, Gaius quickly hurried over to Merlin and chivvied him towards the bench beside the table, eyes flitting over the lad all the while. Considering Arthur had apparently forbidden Merlin from carrying anything, Gaius was terrified to find out what was actually wrong with the lad. It had to be something dire if Arthur was keeping him from his duties.

"All you all right, Merlin? What happened?" inquired Gaius worriedly, as Merlin sat and began removing his jacket.

It took only a couple of moments for the two young men to relay their adventures of the previous day. Once he heard it was an arrow that had caused the damage, Gaius quickly searched through his provisions for a needle and gut (in case some stitching would be required) as well as some salve and clean bandages.

"… and so you see, Gaius. It's because of me that Merlin's injured. I've cleaned and re-bandaged his arm a couple of times, but I'll admit that I'll feel much better once I know you've taken a look at it," said Arthur as he reached the end of the tale. Turning to Merlin, he added, "I know you've been saying all along that you were fine, but I know you're in pain. I just hope that it's not too serious. I want you to take the rest of today and tomorrow off to recover. I'll find someone else to handle your duties; I want you to rest that arm so you can recover all the quicker."

As Arthur was speaking to Merlin, Gaius was very carefully unwrapping the lad's upper arm, going very slowly in case the bandages had stuck to the open wound. From Arthur's description, he was afraid that stitches were going to be required and that would certainly cause Merlin a great deal of pain.

As the bandages fell away, Gaius became more and more befuddled. There was no blood on the bandages at all, and they were slipping off Merlin's arm quite easily. As the last little bit of bandaging fell to the floor, Gaius pulled Merlin's arm away from his side and rotated it so he could get a good look at the 'gaping wound', Arthur had described.

Gaius blinked, and then blinked again, and then began to wonder if he was looking in the proper place. There was a long red mark, certainly, but nothing more than that.

"Merlin," said Gaius in disbelief, "this is what all the fussing was about? It's just a scratch!"

Merlin smiled sheepishly, "Well I did tell him, but he was so intent on feeling guilty that I finally gave up and just let him fuss," he admitted. "And it was painful," he added quickly, trying to forestall the 'eyebrow of doom' that he could tell Gaius was getting ready to point at him.

Arthur was embarrassed about having his concern exposed, but thinking back on the previous day he also knew that he – they had both been lucky. After all, Arthur still had made an ill-advised shot and it had hit his servant. Things could have been a lot worse.

So rather than react in anger as he could tell Merlin half-expected, the Prince simply smiled and said, "In that case, Merlin, once you return to work in two days, I will have no reason not to have you mucking out the stables."

Leaving his healthy servant staring at him in surprise, Arthur headed back to where the bundles and packs had been put down, and gathering them back up, said, "Now if you will both excuse me, I need to get all of these supplies back where they belong. Good day."

A/N: The title is taken from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem "The Arrow and the Song". The first lines read: "I shot an arrow into the air, it fell to earth I know not where". Rather appropriate from Arthur's POV, don't you think?