FIC * Unprotected * Merlin * Arthur/Merlin

[renrenren3]

Title: Unprotected
Fandom: Merlin
Characters: Arthur/Merlin (pre-slash)
Words: ~2,600
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: To escape some assassins, Arthur has to pretend he's a commoner. Merlin isn't sure that this plan will work.
Beta: none
Notes: This is one of the plots I've had in mind since forever. Now that Merlin started again and the boys are more married than ever, I thought why not. I apologize for the Britney lyrics. They had to go there, for reasons that are better left undisclosed.

What am I to do with my life
(You will find it out don't worry)
How am I supposed to know what's right?
(You just got to do it your way)
I can't help the way I feel
But my life has been so overprotected
--Britney Spears, Overprotected

They had been riding since dawn, and everyone was sore and exhausted. When the bandits fell on them, Arthur and the knights were taken completely off guard. The prince drew his swords and led his men into the fight, while Merlin fell off his horse. As knights and bandits clashed together, Merlin hid behind a tree to use his magic without anyone noticing.

The fight was quick but brutal. After all the years he'd spent at Arthur's side, Merlin should have been used to it, but he still felt uneasy as he listened to the screams of dying men. Before long, the bodies of no less than twelve bandits were strewn over the forest's floor, along with a couple of Arthur's own red cloaks.

"You can come out of hiding, Merlin," Arthur called afterwards. Merlin peered from behind the oak that had sheltered him and saw him wiping some of the blood off his blade before sheating it again. "You're making progress, at least this time you didn't stand in my way."

"Yes, sire," Merlin deadpanned, thinking of the bolt of energy that had stunned Arthur's enemy and allowed him to kill the man before being cleaved in two by a huge battleaxe. "I'm really lucky I've got you and all your knights to protect me."

Before Arthur could reply, Gwaine swore loudly. "Arthur, you should see this," he called, waving for the prince's attention. He was hunched over the body of a huge bandit, maybe the chief, judging from his fine clothes.

Arthur frowned. "What are you doing? Tell me you weren't rifling through the pockets of dead men."

"Trust me, you'll be glad I was," Gwaine replied, tossing him a roll of parchment.

As Arthur read it, his expression clouded.

"Let me guess," Merlin said. "It's not good news."

"Your powers of perception are amazing, as always," Arthur replied. He crunched the parchment in his fist and threw it aside. "Those bandits were paid by King Whatever to kill me!"

So much for the peace treaty that they had just signed, Merlin thought. The knights seemed to share his feelings.

"This is an outrage!" Elyan declared. "You must ride back and challenge the King!"

Arthur clenched his hand around the pommel of his sword. He seemed dangerously close to agreeing with him.

"No!" Merlin exclaimed. "He tried to have you assassinated, do you think he'll accept to fight you fairly?"

"I'm not going to hide behind trees," Arthur snapped back.

They stared at each other for a tense moment. Merlin wished he could use his magic to stun Arthur and drag him back to Camelot before he did something stupid.

It was Sir Leon who broke the uneasy silence. "With all due respect, sire, I think Merlin is right," he said. "Camelot must be warned of this threat. We must ride back as fast as we can and strengthen our defences."

"King Whatever might have posted his guards at the borders, though," Lancelot put in. "There might be more ambushes. It will delay us."

The other knights looked grim. They were still several days away from the safety Camelot, and if they were to travel through hostile territory there was no telling how long it would take them to get back.

"Let's go quickly and hope we can sneak past his guards," Arthur said, without sounding too much convinced.

They were getting ready to ride again when Merlin had an idea. "It's too bad the assassins didn't succeed," he said.

Arthur stared at him. "Seriously, Merlin? Is your dislike of me so great that you don't even bother with subtlety any more? You should learn how to take a joke."

Merlin huffed. "What I meant is that if King Whatever was told that you're dead, he would stop sending people after you."

"Yes, I'm sure that would be the solution to all of our problems," Arthur snapped. "Do you want to stab me or should I do it myself?"

Luckily, Leon understood. "Are you saying we should fake the prince's death?" he said.

Arthur's face slowly cleared as comprehension dawned on him.

"That might be a good idea," Lancelot said. "We can ride back and tell King Whatever that Arthur has been killed by outlaws, stall him by asking him to send his men on patrols to look for more bandits..."

"Maybe crack a few heads," Gwaine added, under his breath.

"It might just work," Arthur said. "As much as I don't like having to sneak around, Camelot isn't ready for an attack. I must go back as quickly as possible." Merlin drew a sigh of relief.

"You have to travel in secret, sire," said Sir Leon. "Take the roads less travelled. If you're spotted by his guards, King Whatever will know that you're still alive."

Arthur took off his cloak and stabbed it several times, then he tossed it in a puddle of blood. "Take this back to King Whatever. Maybe it will fool him long enough for me to reach Camelot and warn my father."

"Let me go with you for protection," said Lancelot, but Arthur shook his head.

"It'll be quicker if I travel alone."

Merlin nodded, then he realized Arthur was staring at him. "Wait, does this include me too?" he asked. "That's impossible, you'd never manage without a manservant."

"I can't have a manservant with me," Arthur replied. "I'll be pretending to be a peasant."

Gwaine snorted with laughter. Despite the situation, even Merlin couldn't suppress a smile. "A peasant?" he asked. "Do you even know how to act like a peasant?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid. Everyone knows how to act like a peasant."

"Oh, really?" Merlin asked. "Then I assume you'll take off your armour. I've never seen a peasant dressed like a knight before. And you'd best walk, that horse will attract too much attention."

"Peasants have horses," Arthur replied.

"Not as nice as yours, they haven't," Merlin said. He was talking quickly, before Arthur could order him to shut up. "They have cart horses and pack horses, but mostly they use them to help on the fields. Maybe you could buy an old mare if you see a farm on the road, though you'd have to be careful that you're not tricked into buying a lame animal. And you could also buy food there, it'd be cheaper than a tavern and a peasant couldn't be seen flashing money around. Do you even know the price of vegetables?"

"Just shut up," Arthur said, and Merlin did. "Fine, you can come with me," Arthur said in the end. "But only because I'll need someone to carry my bag if I don't have a horse."

"If you two have finished bickering," said Sir Leon," we'd better get going. If we leave now, we can reach King Whatever's castle before night and tell him that you're dead."

"We'll take back your horse," Gwaine said. "An empty saddle is more dramatic than a torn cloak."

Merlin helped Arthur out of his armour. The chainmail went in his bag, while everything else was put into a sack that Merlin planned to throw away as soon as possible.

"I liked the bloodstained cloak," Merlin said. "The cloak was a nice touch."

Arthur nodded. "I expect you'll sew me a new one when we get back.

---

They chose a narrow forest path, much less travelled than the main road. The ground was slippery with mud and wet leaves, and soon they were both covered with mud up to their ankles.

Arthur wrinkled his nose, while Merlin gave a sigh of relief. He had talked Arthur into wearing his jacket earlier, but it wasn't enough to hide the fact that the prince's clothes were much finer than a peasant's. The mud would help.

When they crossed a stone bridge across a river, they threw the armour in the water below. It hit the water with a huge splash and a great deal of noise, but there was no one around to see.

"Are we supposed to just walk?" Arthur said after some time. "It will take us forever to reach Camelot on foot!"

Merlin struggled to keep up with him. Even without the armour, the weight of the prince's bag was threatening to break his shoulders. "We've only been walking for a couple of hours," he said. "I don't think peasants should be complaining about a short walk."

"If I were a peasant, I'd complain," Arthur said.

"Yes, sire," Merlin said. "Maybe it is just as well that you're a prince, because I think you'd be a terrible peasant."

"Thanks, Merlin. But stop calling me 'sire', or everyone is going to know."

"Yes, Arthur. Does this mean you're going to stop ordering me around as well?"

"Don't be stupid," Arthur replied. "If I didn't give you orders, you'd have no idea what to do."

Merlin didn't reply and wisely decided to save his breath for the long journey ahead.

---

The sun was setting beyond the trees by the time Arthur and Merlin reached the end of the forest. Beyond, the land was almost empty, save for a lonely house here and there.

"I don't think we'll find any horses for sale," Arthur commented.

They walked for another while, but it was getting dark quickly.

At the first house they came across, Merlin decided to stop and ask if they could have a bed for the night.

"Let me do the talking," Arthur said. "You have no manners at all and you'd get us thrown out."

Merlin didn't agree, but Arthur was still the one giving the orders, so he had to step back while Arthur knocked on the door.

A short, stout woman came to the door.

"Good woman," said Arthur. "We require a bed for the night."

Merlin closed his eyes and hoped the woman wouldn't attack Arthur, even though Arthur totally deserved it.

"A bed, huh?" she repeated. She narrowed her eyes. "I suppose you'll want some food too?"

"Yes, that would be very nice," Arthur said, oblivious to her hostile tone.

She put her hands on her hips. "And just who do you think you are, coming to my house and demanding things?" she hissed.

Arthur started to realize that he'd made a misstep, but Merlin was quicker on the uptake. He kicked Arthur's shin and stepped in front of him, while the prince howled in pain.

"I'm sorry about him," he told the woman. "He fell and twisted his ankle, it's hurting him so much he can't even think straight."

"It's not hurting that bad," Arthur said, right before Merlin stepped on his foot. "Ouch! That hurt!"

"See?" Merlin insisted, ignoring him. "We were hoping we wouldn't have to sleep outside in the cold tonight, but we don't want to give you any trouble."

The woman's face cleared. "If that's the case, then it's all right," she said. "There's bread and some soup, and you can sleep in the loft. The hay's clean, and it's much warmer than sleeping outside."

"Thank you very much," Merlin said before Arthur could complain. "That's so nice of you. I'm Merlin, and my ill mannered friend here is, er, Will."

"Nice to meet you, Merlin and Will," she said. "I'm Bethan. Step inside and I'll fix you some supper."

Merlin sighed with relief as he dropped the bag in a corner and sat in the rushes next to the fireplace. He tried to massage some life back to his shoulders. Arthur scowled and sat down in front of him.

"My ill mannered friend, Will?" he said, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. He didn't sound at all amused, so Merlin tried not to grin too much.

"I thought that giving your real name wouldn't be safe," he said, innocently. "We don't want Bethan to find out that you're a prince."

"My ill mannered friend?" Arthur insisted. "Merlin, I'm not ill mannered! I am the soul of courtesy, I've been taking lessons in etiquette ever since I was a child."

"Is that why you're so good at getting along with people?" Merlin asked.

Just then, Bethan came back from the kitchen with two bowls of soup and half a loaf of black bread, and Arthur made a point of thanking her profusely. Merlin thought Arthur just wanted to show off, but Bethan was mollified and forgave him for his earlier rudeness.

Once she was gone, Arthur tried a spoonful of soup and made a face.

"Eat your food," Merlin chided him, with his mouth half full. "Peasants can't afford to be picky, and neither can we."

"It tastes like mud," Arthur said, but eventually forced himself to eat.

Convincing him to sleep in the hay was much more difficult. Bethan was as good as her word and her loft was a lot cleaner than some of the places where Merlin had slept, but Arthur didn't even want to step in there. "My ankle hurts too badly to climb a ladder," he lied.

Merlin almost had to drag him. "It's not that bad," he said, keeping his voice low so that Bethan wouldn't hear. He sat down and patted the hay next to him invitingly. "It's much better than sleeping in the cold."

"It smells," Arthur replied, and very pointedly didn't sit down. "And it's all scratchy. Why couldn't we have a bed?"

Merlin was tired, his feet were sore, he was cold because Arthur was wearing his jacket, he had put up with Arthur all day and he had even carried Arthur's bag for him. All he wanted to do was sleep, but Arthur wouldn't shut up.

"Did you think that maybe this woman doesn't have spare beds for all the strangers who come knocking at her door?" he snapped. "You should be grateful she even let us in."

He blew out the lamp and stretched down on the hay, turning his back to Arthur. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

There was silence for a long while, then rustling. Merlin almost hoped that Arthur would leave and go sleep outside, but instead he felt Arthur settle down next to him.

"I really don't know how to act like a peasant," said Arthur after a while. "I learned fighting and strategy and etiquette, and stuff like that. My father said those were the things that a prince had to know." The silence stretched on, uncomfortable, and Merlin wondered if he could pretend to be asleep. "I'm the best warrior in the realm, but sometimes I think that's just not enough, you know? Nobody ever taught me how to talk with people. I don't know if you noticed, I'm sort of making it up as I go along."

Merlin couldn't stay silent. "You prat," he said, more fondly than he meant to. "You're lucky you have me, anyone else would have left you to die a long time ago."

"Don't push your luck," Arthur said, but Merlin could have sworn he head him breathe a sigh of relief. He lay down next to Merlin and spent the next few minutes rolling around and complaining of how uncomfortable he was.

"One last thing," he said. "Why Will? Couldn't you choose something better? It's a stupid name."

"I didn't give it much thought," Merlin replied. " but I suppose... well... Will was my best friend. When I had to give the name of a friend, it was the first name I thought of."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said.

Merlin shrugged, making the hay rustle. "No offence taken. I've got the patience of a saint for putting up with you, but no offence taken."

Behind him, Arthur snorted. "Do you want me to praise you, now? Don't push your luck, I already apologized once and I think that's more than enough for one day."

"Shut up and let me sleep already," Merlin said. He grinned in the dark. "Wait, are you finally growing a heart? Are you perhaps going to carry your own bag tomorrow?"

"Nope," said Arthur. "That's what servants are for."

---

Camelot was still miles away, and Arthur was still incapable of acting like a peasant, but he wasn't acting completely like a prince either and Merlin was more than fine with that.