Title: I Won't Leave him

Summary: Tag to "A Servant Of Two Masters." Arthur's perspective on that episode. Merlin got wounded and we see arthur telling Merlin what he really thinks of him. This is Arthur's thoughts and worries throughout that episode. Twoshot. No slash. Contains heavy bromance and whump, though, only the whump shown in the episode. Also has some missing scenes of why Arthur rode back to Camelot.

So everyone, hi again. I decided to write a short story about this episode. Basically this is all about Arthur's thoughts and is a chance for me to expound on the bromance. After all, that talk in the forest as well as the hug was just too good not to play off of. This is just the first chapter since I really wanted to post it, I do plan on doing a second chapter for the rest of the episode. This is all from Arthur's point of view but will have Merlin in it. No slash whatsoever as always and I hope you will enjoy.

Arthur plunged his sword into another man and then turned around to glance at Merlin. During any sort of fight or battle these days he always tried to keep tabs on Merlin's whereabouts just to make sure that the idiot didn't get himself killed while Arthur's own back was turned. And it normally worked. Either Merlin was fine or Arthur managed to kill whoever was attacking him in time. But today wasn't a normal day.

But things had been so crazy lately. A year ago Morgana had betrayed them all and had used magic to take over Camelot. Arthur had had to become Regent in his father's absence since Uther no longer was in control of his mind. And then there had been that whole business with the Dorocha. Arthur had convinced himself to give his life for Camelot, Merlin had nearly died, and in the end Lancelot had been the one who had sacrificed himself.

Then things had seemed to get a bit better. His father began to emerge from wherever he had been and even managed to come to his birthday celebration. But just like that, his father had been stolen from Arthur again, this time, though, by an assassin's blade. Arthur had even sought the help of magic to save Uther, which had only served to further confuse the prince.

But in the end his father had died and he had become king. And the few months since then had been crazier than ever. The only constant presence, the only thing he knew he could count on was Merlin.

And as Arthur turned around and saw the young man lying on the ground, clearly injured, Arthur had felt that last sense of normalcy slip away.

He ran towards Merlin, cutting down any man who dared to get in his way or try to stop him. Arthur didn't think about the mercenaries, or his knights, or any of his old battle instincts that told him to run toward the enemy and not away from them, he only thought about getting to Merlin.

He reached Merlin and gently but swiftly rolled him over and immediately noticed the blood seeping through some of his clothes. The boy was still breathing, and later Arthur would thank any powerful force he could for that, but for now he needed to make sure it stayed that way.

Now that he had checked on Merlin Arthur turned to look at the situation around him. Mercenaries were attacking his men everywhere, but, as far as Arthur could tell, none of the knights had been killed yet. Many of the enemy were rushing in the king's direction and, though the knights intercepted as many of them as they could, Arthur knew that some of them would reach the two any moment.

The king rushed head-on to meet them and in no time at all another five men were dead. Arthur's blood was still boiling in anger over what had been done to his servant and a few men were hardly going to slow him down.

But as much as Arthur would love to stick his sword through the hearts of every man who dared to even look at his wounded servant, Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to properly protect Merlin here. They were too many men and Merlin might medical attention soon.

Though technically his priority was his men and it would be less than honorable to leave them, he knew in his heart that Merlin was more important. He was wounded and could hardly take care of himself on a good day, let alone on a messed up day like today.

"Scatter!" Arthur shouted in the direction of his knights. He had no idea if they heard him over the din of the battle, but at this point he wasn't sure if he cared. He bent down and hoisted Merlin over his shoulders and ran toward the thickest patch of forest he could see. Not a single thought about how it was cowardly to run away from a battle entered the king's mind. His only concern was Merlin and getting him to safety.

Arthur kept going with Merlin on his shoulders and never looked back unless his keen senses or sharp hearing picked up a noise. If an enemy was behind him he would put Merlin down and cut the man to shreds. Not a single man so much as made a dent in Arthur's armor.

Pendragons were known for their quick and powerful tempers and Merlin had been Arthur's idiot servant and loyal friend for over five years—Arthur wasn't going to forgive these men anytime soon. In fact, they hardly slowed him down.

As much as Arthur was unwilling to let Merlin out of his sight in his current condition, he almost wished that he had given the boy to one of the other knights. The mercenaries were obviously after him—which was to be expected since he was the king—and it was possible that Merlin could already be in Gaius' care if someone else had taken him. But it was too late now.

Eventually Merlin seemed to become more aware of the things around him and asked, no, begged to be put down. Arthur couldn't blame him for wanting that, the position was neither dignified nor comfortable since it probably pressed painfully on his wound. Since, by that time, no one seemed to be following them Arthur had agreed. Of course, he still had to support the boy since he couldn't walk more than two steps before falling flat on his face. The downside to Arthur helping Merlin this way was that it was slower, but Arthur found that he didn't really mind since his aching shoulders were now getting a rest. Merlin may have been far thinner than anybody had a right to be, but even so he got heavy after a while.

Arthur was worried, though, because Merlin wasn't talking much as they stumbled along. He seemed pretty lucid, but he wasn't making any of his usual banter. Arthur was afraid that maybe he had lost too much blood or was going into shock. But as he saw Merlin's face tense up and go pale and when he saw the pain in the boy's eyes he realized the reason for his silence. He was trying to hold the pain in. Arthur was actually pretty impressed that the servant had only grunted a few times so far, but hadn't voiced his torment any other way.

So Arthur talked to Merlin, calling him an idiot and telling him that they would soon be back in Camelot and that all they needed was a good night's sleep. He needed to keep Merlin awake and alert and distracted from his pain. And for the most part Arthur's tactics seemed to work.

It was getting to be night and Merlin's strength was obviously failing, even if the boy hadn't said anything. They both required rest and soon. Already they had had to hide from the mercenaries twice because Arthur's rage had cooled a bit and he wasn't sure how many he could take on now that he was so tired. Plus, seeing Merlin awake had made Arthur even more protective since the boy couldn't stand up on his own. The king didn't want to risk it. So when he found a place that seemed suitable he leaned Merlin against a log so he could be propped up.

He immediately bent to check the servant's wound. Arthur had seen many grisly and gruesome wounds that hardly affected his stomach at all, but the one on Merlin, while not life-threatening if Gaius got to it soon, made him have to fight to keep what little there was in his belly. It didn't even look that bad comparatively, it was just the fact that it was on Merlin that bothered him so greatly.

And it didn't help that Merlin started talking about dying.

"You're not going to die, Merlin. Don't be such a coward," he said. But he was struck by the stupidity of his own words. Merlin was perhaps the farthest thing from a coward. He'd seen Merlin afraid before, of course—which was actually a good thing since the boy already lacked the required self-preservation instincts limit—but he had never let the fear get the best of him. Fear can save you or it can be your doom, but Merlin seemed to have just the right amount so that he was wary of the dangerous things, yet was not incapable of doing what was necessary even if it terrified him.

Merlin had even faced a dragon for goodness sake. Arthur had called Merlin a coward plenty of times before and had known for a while now that it was a complete lie, but this was the first time that he felt like it was a crime to say so. Maybe it was just because the boy was injured, but Arthur felt guilty for saying such a thing.

"If I do die will you call me a hero?" Merlin asked, interrupting Arthur's thoughts. Of course.

Arthur could only answer truthfully since that was what Merlin needed. He needed to hear the truth while they were joking. "Probably."

"But whilst I'm still alive I'm a coward?" Merlin asked incredulously like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Arthur dimly noticed that some of the usual tones and inflections in the servant's voice were missing. That often happened when they were facing something terrible or daunting, or when Merlin wasn't feeling well. Personally Arthur was just surprised that Merlin could hide the agony he must be in so well. Sometimes there only seemed to be the barest trace of it on his face or in his voice.

Merlin's tone sparked a bit of amusement in Arthur. "That's how these thing work, I'm afraid. You get the glory when you're not around to appreciate it."

Merlin scoffed a bit at the unfairness of it and a small smile spread over his face. "Unless you're the king," he stated.

Arthur was starting to get into the banter now. "Come on, it's got to have some advantages." The king briefly found it strange how he was joking about something that had once seemed so frightening to him. There was a time when he wouldn't have joked about that even with Merlin. But Merlin had helped him so much since his father had died. He was still just beginning to realize the true depth of the servant's loyalty to him. And even though he still woke up afraid of what the day might bring and what disastrous mistakes he might make, he was no longer paralyzed by that fear. Maybe Merlin's bravery was infectious. Besides, whenever he joked with Merlin about something it seemed far less scary.

"You have a very good servant," Merlin said and shook ever so slightly with laughter. But that tiny movement seemed to jostle his wound and the boy turned away a bit and closed his eyes as he tried to contain the pain.

Merlin might have been joking but Arthur wasn't anymore. "You're right, I do. A servant who's extremely brave and incredibly loyal, to be honest. Not at all cowardly." It was strange how easy it was to say something that once he would've only admitted under the most severe of torture. In fact, it was even easier than he had expected, and only the tiniest bit awkward. Though, it did hurt a bit when he saw Merlin looking warily over at him as if he was waiting for Arthur to smile, slap him over the head, and tell him he was talking about a previous servant.

It was sad that Arthur seemed more comfortable expressing his emotions than Merlin these days. He had begun to wonder if maybe he had shunned and distrusted the man who was his best friend for too long. Lately, it seemed, the boy was just waiting for something to go wrong. Whenever anything bad did happen, or Arthur snapped at him when he really shouldn't've, the manservant didn't seem surprised. It had gotten especially worse after Uther had died.

While Merlin had been his loyal companion and faithful friend throughout everything that Arthur did and every mistake he made, it seemed as though he didn't expect that kind of understanding or friendship in return. Merlin had been there for Arthur when he had nearly had an anxiety attack the first morning after his coronation, and had even followed him into an enemy encampment just a few weeks ago. But Merlin didn't think that Arthur would be there for him. And that thought hurt Arthur greatly.

"Thank you for saving my life," Merlin said and Arthur heard what wasn't being said. The boy had just accepted Arthur's praise and had acknowledged the friendship behind the statement. Perhaps there was hope yet.

"You'd do the same for me," Arthur replied. Of course, Merlin had already saved his life on many occasions, as well as the lives of many others. Arthur knew, and had always known deep down, that whether or not Merlin physically saved him didn't matter; he had saved him in other ways. Just the support and constant cheerfulness, the firm belief that everything would turn out well, the advice and even the occasional lecture, had all saved Arthur. Merlin had changed Arthur in many ways, some of them subtle and some of them not, and they all had made a huge impact on the way Arthur saw the world and the choices he made. Arthur had a feeling that he would have made a lot more mistakes—possibly fatal ones—if it weren't for his clumsy servant.

Merlin had jumped in front of a Dorocha for him, had drunk poison for him, and had followed him into dangerous territory many times— sometimes without Arthur knowing— and the boy had even ridden out to fight a dragon they couldn't possibly hope to win against with him. When it came down to it Arthur knew that he owed Merlin a lot, and he also knew that the boy would never ask to be repaid.

They sat in silence for a while before Arthur noticed Merlin nodding off. He gently picked the servant up, which elicited a small groan from said unconscious servant, and laid him in the most comfortable position he could. He tried to prop him up a bit in order that the wound had less pressure on it. After he had done all he could for Merlin he lay down himself against a tree right next to him.

He was worried; Merlin was obviously getting worse and he wasn't sure how much longer the boy would last if they couldn't get him to Gaius. Merlin felt incredibly cold to the touch, though, not as much as he had when the Dorocha flew through him, and he was noticeably shivering. The wound might be getting infected or he may just be suffering from blood loss or shock, but whatever the cause Arthur knew it wasn't good. And the king had no idea of whether or not it was a good thing that Merlin's heavy breathing had calmed down. Again, he didn't know if the large and quick breaths were from the pain the servant was experiencing or if there was some other, far worse cause.

Arthur had no food and no blankets; nothing to take care of the boy with. He would even cover him with some of his own clothes if he thought they would do him any good. He wished he could make a fire, but Arthur knew that the light or smell would alert the men searching for them.

He didn't know what to do and he was honestly scared for Merlin's life. As long as he had known the boy the thought of him dying had never been one he could quite comprehend. He couldn't fathom Merlin dying, but at the same time he feared it more than he feared his own death. When the manservant had offered to be the sacrifice in Arthur's place when they were traveling to the Isle of the Blessed Arthur had been terrified by the image that had sprung in his mind. He had nearly lost Merlin mere hours before, and it wasn't going to happen again. But what had scared him most was that Merlin's acceptance of Arthur's rejection to his offer had been quite calm and quiet. Almost as if it hadn't changed a thing.

But this was the present with Merlin wounded and vicious men hunting for them. Arthur Pendragon had left his men alone in an attempt to save Merlin and he was going to get that boy back home no matter what it took. With that thought in his head Arthur fell asleep.

The first thing that went through Arthur's mind when he woke up was a prayer that it had all been just a dream. That maybe he was now in his own bed and Merlin was going to come and throw open the curtains with an annoying cheerfulness. Arthur hoped with all his might that Merlin wasn't wounded and that they weren't hiding in the forest from some mercenaries.

But then he heard a snapping and rustling sound that he instantly knew didn't come from a rabbit. It wasn't a dream. His eyes shot open and Arthur turned his head to look at Merlin who was already wake and clearly much worse.

Arthur looked around and got up and sheathed his sword. "I'd love to say that we could stay here and rest, but another ten minutes and we'd be mercenary-mincemeat." He reached down and pulled Merlin to his feet since the simple fact that the boy hadn't moved yet proved that he was incapable of standing, and hoisted him over his shoulders. He felt bad as he heard Merlin groan and didn't doubt that the movement had hurt badly.

"Leave me," Merlin said.

"Now's not the time for jokes," Arthur responded absent-mindedly. His thoughts were far away trying to think of the best way to avoid their would-be killers.

"Please leave me," Merlin pleaded again and Arthur was dimly reminded of when Merlin had been dying of the Dorocha attack and had asked to stay with Arthur.

"Sure," Arthur said mockingly, "whatever you say."

Arthur wasn't going to leave him; he still remembered his vow from last night. Two basic instincts now had almost complete control of Arthur's mind. The first was from all his training to be a knight—it was his battle and survival mode. And the second was something that came just as naturally to him even though he hadn't been doing it as long as his training—his instinct to banter and fight with Merlin. Those two were the dominate forces governing Arthur right now, and next to nothing could break him out of it until he believed that the danger was over.

But his protection of Merlin went far deeper than any instinct. It was a code, a part of him. Leaving Merlin behind had really never occurred to him since it would be like coming to the decision to stop breathing. The thought of sacrificing the boy to give himself a better chance at survival just wasn't conceivable to the king, and it never would be. Arthur wasn't listening to Merlin's pleas; the boy was injured, helpless, and far too loyal for his own good, and Arthur would be damned if he would leave his friend alone out here unless he had no other choice.

He rushed off with Merlin slung over his shoulder and tried his best to avoid the mercenaries. He noticed that Merlin was groaning a lot more and from the few glimpses he had gotten of the servant's face he was almost deathly pale. The boy had to get to Gaius soon.

He they had just entered a long ravine when Arthur saw a man rushing toward them from the other end of it. He quickly put Merlin down as far out of the way as he could manage—ignoring the horrible sounds of the boy's pain, but paying attention to his obvious helplessness—and turned to fight the man. He met him and attacked with all his might, but as soon as he had taken him down another one appeared from behind him. He swiftly dispatched him, too. Another man, also dead.

Many men ran out from the other end of the ravine nearest Merlin speeding towards Arthur. The king prepared himself to fight them off, but then over the roars and cries of the mercenaries he heard an ominous cracking and rumbling sound.

"MERLIN!" He cried out as a huge bolder fell in front of him—blocking him off from the man he'd sworn to see safely home—and was forced to stumble back as more large rocks fell and completely cut of his view of Merlin.

Arthur stood there for a moment, staring at the stone wall with his arm still outstretched. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Merlin was now at the mercy of those mercenaries, unless they ignored him and just continued hunting for Arthur as the king hoped.

He had failed Merlin. He had no idea why or how those rocks had fallen right at that moment, but he did know that Merlin was injured and on his own. He had promised to himself and to Merlin that he would get him back home. So much for his promises.

Arthur knew that if he was going to get to Merlin he'd have to go in a roundabout way so as not to attract the mercenaries. He didn't exactly want to bring them to Merlin, after all. So Arthur began to make his way towards where he had last seen Merlin, but due to the route he was taking it could be hours before he arrived on the other side of that stone wall.

Arthur had only been walking for thirty minutes when he heard a rustling sound not unlike what he had heard that morning. As he watched for any sign of movement he saw a flash of red and silver. A huge grin appeared on his face as his knights all came into view walking warily through the forest. On a good day he might've played a game with them and would have tested the limits of their training, but he was exhausted and so far it hadn't been a very good day.

He walked up behind them surprised that they hadn't heard him by now and wondered if maybe his training had kicked anyway despite his intention to show himself. Abruptly they all whirled around with their swords pointing at him. Arthur had to bring his sword up to deflect Leon's.

"Nice to see you, too," he said. Now that he was with his men he found that his strength reserves were failing and he was getting more and more tired. Carrying Merlin's deadweight around for most of the day yesterday hadn't done him any favors. Plus, he hadn't gotten much of a goodnight's sleep what with all the worrying and the knowledge that there were men looking for him. And he hadn't eaten in a while. Yeah, he was tired.

While Leon, Percival, and Elyan greeted him with light slaps on the back or clasped his hand and said that it was good to see him, Gwaine ignored all of that and went straight for the problem.

"Where's Merlin?" his question was more of a demand.

Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them just now, but he knew how protective of Merlin Gwaine was and had a feeling that the strong man would strangle it out of him in an instant if he believed anything to be wrong. So he answered, "He's not with me. I lost him." He looked away from the gazes of his men. He already felt guilty enough about losing the one person who he had to look after. He had basically abandoned his men in order to keep Merlin safe and now that all seemed pointless.

"What do you mean?" Gwaine asked as if he couldn't believe what he had heard, "How do you lose Merlin? The boy can't walk through the woods without making a racket to save his life."

Arthur looked up at him and stared straight into his eyes. "We were attacked. I put him down to fend them off and…it was the strangest thing…the rock wall of the ravine we were in collapsed…separating me and Merlin. I didn't want to risk drawing them to him so I had to circle around a bit. I was just going back for him. He must be still there; he was too weak to even lift himself off the ground when last I saw him."

"What?" Gwaine practically yelled, "Merlin is out here alone in a mercenary-infested forest, wounded and—"

"Sire, if I may, I don't believe he's still there," Leon interrupted Gwaine's tirade. "We passed by the ravine you spoke of and even went through it. We would have noticed if Merlin was there, and even if we didn't, surely he would've called out to us. Arthur, I believe we should head back to Camelot." Leon looked quite regretful at the end.

"No," Arthur said without giving it even a moment of thought, "I'm not leaving him out here. He's just a servant, Leon, and a wounded one at that. He's the last person who should be left alone out here."

"Yeah, Leon mate, what are you thinking?" Gwaine asked incredulously, though Arthur was just thankful that his anger had focused on someone else, "I agree with the King, we can't just abandon Merlin."

Arthur winced; apparently Gwaine was still mad at him since he only ever addressed him respectfully when he was really not happy with him. He and Merlin were a lot alike in those respects, and others.

"I didn't mean that we should just forget about him, sire. I merely meant that we should go back to Camelot to regroup. We are only five men in a forest full of mercenaries, and your presence may just endanger Merlin further, Arthur."

The king inwardly flinched at the reminder.

"If we went back to Camelot," Leon continued, "then we could send out many more men in search of him. We are tired and without even the most basic provisions and it could take us quite a long time to find him. It would be far better for Merlin if we headed back instead of searching for him while we're dead on our feet."

While the logical and strategic side of Arthur saw the wisdom and truth in what Leon was saying, Arthur's heart, which had finally started surfacing properly, was screaming at him to stay. He just didn't know if he could bear to leave this forest without Merlin. The boy had become his greatest friend, his un-credited advisor, his shoulder to metaphorically lean on, and the best and most loyal servant anyone had ever had. And he was only just starting to realize how much he owed the boy.

Merlin had begged and pleaded with him to be left behind. It didn't even seem as if the idiot had even had to think about it; he had just offered to be sacrificed so that Arthur might escape as if it was natural. The boy didn't even have to think about giving his life for his master, and Arthur would bet almost anything that when those rocks had fallen Merlin had been glad. Merlin's loyalty to him never seemed to waver for a moment, while Arthur's trust and respect in him often had. Many times Arthur had been unfair or unjust and even cruel to the boy on occasion, but Merlin never stopped coming to help him when he needed it most. And even when he didn't.

Arthur just didn't think he could abandon Merlin whose friendship and loyalty he still needed. Merlin was one of the few constant presences in his life, and he didn't know what he would do without him.

Gwaine seemed to read the indecision on Arthur's face because he said, "He's right, Arthur, we can do more for him in Camelot. By staying here we might be hurting his chances of survival. Whether he walked away or one of the mercenaries took him it will help to have more men. What if we come across him and he's been captured but we're not strong enough to rescue him? We need to go back."

Arthur sighed and looked in the direction where he had last seen his friend. "All right," he said turning back to his men and putting on his leader mask, "we head back to Camelot."

They all started walking back and Arthur heard Leon saying that he knew where their horses were, but his mind wasn't on that. His mind was with the boy he somehow knew wasn't anywhere nice. I made a promise, Merlin, and I intend to keep it.

I hope you liked it. Please review because I might never finsih this story otherwise. As it is I have no idea when I'll have time to post the next chappy. Since I probably won't see you until after Happy Thanksgiving!