Archive of Our Own ^beta

Surprisingly, it had been Lancelot who had suggested sneaking out of Lord Bayard’s castle in the early morning, just the two of them, and going to the nearby rocky beach. (Although Merlin might have put the idea in his head by yammering about ‘wanting to see the ocean’ for the past week.) The diplomatic mission they had accompanied Arthur on was now mercifully over, and they were due to leave for Camelot in a few hours, which meant that it was the last opportunity to dip their toes in the great sea.

‘This is amazing,’ Merlin breathed, looking out over the shimmering blue expanse. ‘What do you think is on the other side?’

‘Who knows?’ Lancelot shielded his eyes with his hand and stared hard at the horizon with just a hint of longing. He was, after all, a wanderer at heart. ‘Maybe we’ll find out someday.’

‘I’d like that.’ The warlock doubted it would ever happen, but it was nice to dream. ‘Come on, I want to see what’s the view like from the top of that rock.’

The rock in question was big and black; it was also wet and slippery, but Merlin ignored this minor inconvenience.

‘Be careful,’ Lancelot said warningly.

‘You’ll catch me if I fall,’ he replied with a confident grin.

And that was when his foot slipped.

He yelped and scrambled for purchase, then slid down the side of the rock, grazing his hands and knees. Lancelot lunged forward but was still too far away to cushion his fall, and Merlin landed on the ground in a heap.

‘Ow,’ he said weakly, sitting up and trying to assess the damage.

‘Are you alright?’ Lancelot hovered over him with a worried look.

‘Yeah, I think nothing’s broken.’ Merlin touched his right foot cautiously and hissed with pain. ‘But I may have sprained my ankle.’

Without a word, the knight took off his shirt and crouched beside the warlock.

‘Um… not that I mind the view, but what are you doing?’

‘We have to wrap it to keep it from swelling,’ Lancelot explained and started tearing the fabric into strips.

‘But that’s… that’s your nice shirt,’ Merlin protested faintly, but the knight only shrugged and began to bandage the injured foot, his fingers working deftly and surely. The look of intense concentration on his face did something to Merlin’s heart. ‘You’re really good at this.’

‘I’ve had a lot of practice.’ During my travels, remained unsaid, and it reminded the warlock how lucky he was to have Lancelot back again. ‘Okay, that should be enough for now. We’ll change it to a proper bandage when we get back to the castle. Can you get up?’

Merlin nodded, but before attempting to do so, he grabbed the knight’s face and kissed him lightly.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘And sorry for the trouble.’

‘What trouble?’ Lancelot murmured, kissing him back.

He helped the warlock to his feet and then led him to the place where the waves lapped the shore.

‘Put your foot in the water,’ he instructed. ‘The wet shirt will act like a cold compress for a while.’

For once, Merlin did as he was told and felt immediate relief. He was about to praise the knight’s field medical skills again, but then Lancelot surprised him once more.

‘Come on, get up on my back.’

‘What?’

‘You shouldn’t be putting weight on that foot. I’ll carry you.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Merlin said firmly. He was already a metaphorical burden to Lancelot and hated the idea of becoming a literal one as well. Lancelot, predictably, took it the wrong way.

‘I know I’m no Percival, but I can manage.’

‘You think I doubt that you can?’ Merlin exclaimed. That was unacceptable. ‘Fine, let’s do this.’

As soon as he was settled comfortably with his arms around the knight’s neck, however, he whispered a spell to make himself lighter. There were limits to exploiting Lancelot’s nobleness.

They set off towards the castle, and Merlin turned to look at the ocean one last time.

‘It’s beautiful. I’m glad we came here.’

‘I’ve heard there’s another one, beyond the western borders of Camelot,’ Lancelot paused, then asked in a rush, ‘Would you… would you like to go and see it with me someday?’

Merlin laughed and kissed the knight’s bare shoulder.

‘So you’re willing to risk having to deal with the consequences of my clumsiness again? Brave man. Shh,’ he added when Lancelot started to protest, ‘I’d love to go with you. It’s a date.’

The sun was warm on his face, and he closed his eyes and enjoyed the ride… until the improvised bandage dried and stopped cooling his foot and he became aware of a throbbing pain in his ankle.

‘Admit it,’ he broke the silence, trying to distract himself, ‘you just want to make an entrance.’

‘What?’ Lancelot stopped and craned his neck to frown at him. ‘How is carrying you on my back making an entrance?’

‘Well, maybe it wouldn’t be if you were wearing a shirt.’

The knight shook his head with a resigned sigh and walked on.

‘People will be swooning left, right, and centre,’ Merlin teased, unable to stop himself. ‘And once we leave, they’ll start writing songs about you flaunting those abs, you’ll see.’

‘Merlin!’

‘Wait, I already have the first verse, listen:

There was a knight, one of the best,

Who came to Mercia and bared his chest.

Carrying a servant upon his back,

He was directly declared a snack.’

Lancelot spluttered and nearly dropped Merlin to the ground.

‘Hey, careful, you’ve got precious cargo here!’ The warlock swatted him playfully on the shoulder.

‘You’re making fun of me,’ Lancelot said a little accusingly.

‘I know, I’m sorry,’ Merlin sighed. Now that he thought about it, he realised that it wasn’t just harmless teasing. ‘I guess that’s my way of coping with all the attention you’ll get.’

‘I thought you didn’t like being the centre of attention?’

‘Oh, I don’t. And I’m not jealous of that. But you’ll definitely turn some heads and…’

‘And what?’

‘Well…’

‘Merlin, not to sound melodramatic, but I only have eyes for you.’

The swooping sensation in his stomach he got whenever Lancelot said something like that was quickly becoming Merlin’s favourite feeling.

‘And I for you,’ he whispered back.

‘Glad we’ve cleared that up.’

Lancelot resumed walking, and Merlin sighed happily. He could sprain an ankle every day for this. But that reminded him of something.

‘I’ll get you a new shirt, obviously. Blue, I think. Like the ocean. You’d look good in blue.’

‘Merlin…’

‘I’m not teasing now!’ he assured him earnestly. ‘You really would!’

Lancelot shook his head.

‘You’re impossible.’

‘No, you’re the one who’s impossible. You’ve agreed to accept one compliment a day, remember?’

He expected the knight to counter out of habit, so Lancelot’s response took him by surprise.

‘I’ve already accepted one today.’

‘What? When?’

‘When you said I was good at bandaging swollen ankles.’

Merlin stared at the nape of Lancelot’s neck in disbelief.

‘Are you being serious right now?’

‘I always am.’

‘You know what, fine. It wasn’t a compliment; it was a statement of fact, and I’m not taking it back. And I’ll get you a blue shirt, whether you like it or not.’

‘I’ll wear it with pride.’

‘Now you’re making fun of me,’ Merlin huffed.

Lancelot stopped yet again, lowered his ‘burden’ gently to the ground, and turned to face him. Having the full force of the knight’s intense gaze suddenly directed at him made Merlin dizzy.

‘Didn’t I just say I’m always serious?’

When Merlin nodded breathlessly, Lancelot took his hand and kissed it.

‘Come on, let’s get this show over with.’

As they made their way through the streets of the lower town, which were already quite crowded despite the early hour, Merlin found it easy to smile at those who were ogling Lancelot. He had the knight’s heart; he didn’t mind the world admiring his looks.