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#pls lmk if it sucks asddfgg
bellamyblakru · 3 years
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For the Bad Things Happen Bingo, can I request ‘passing out from the pain’ with hurt!Merlin/protective!Gwaine ???
YOU SURE CAN. i have like a list of prompts that came before this one that i should be doing,,, but i really wanted to try and write merwaine so badly isksksksk thank you for this opportunity. i hope i can do them justice with my first time🥺 (also lol i fangirled at your request bc i love your account sm asbskakak)
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here it is on ao3 and under the cut! i hope you like it!!
Merlin watched Gwaine from his peripheral, thinking about everything and nothing at once. Gwaine has been with the knights for a few years now, right when Arthur took the crown, and Merlin hasn’t seen any indication that the man wanted to leave. But he will one day, won’t he? He has told Merlin many times how he doesn’t like staying in one place for too long, so Merlin never expected him to stay here as long as he has.
Merlin frowned at his thoughts on top of his mare, Honey, as Gwaine chatted with Percival and Leon. He was making them laugh, that smile of his shining through the darkening thoughts floating in Merlin’s mind. Merlin couldn’t help letting the soft smile slip through seeing how happy Gwaine made them—it seemed like Gwaine had that effect on everyone, Merlin mused.
Arthur was talking with Lance and Elyan, so Merlin let his mind start wandering. His magic was itching to escape—it has been since the morning they left on this hunt. Merlin knew Arthur just wanted to flee the restraints of the castle, and, honestly, Merlin had been feeling the same way for days.
Lately, Gwaine had been avoiding him. Well, Merlin thinks Gwaine had been avoiding him, at least, and Gwaine never does that, ever. He’d been thinking that he must have hurt Gwaine somehow, but every time he thought back to their last interaction, where nothing seemed wrong, he had no idea where the distance was coming from. He had been making Gwaine laugh at training, and after that day, he hadn't been able to get more than five words to him.
He missed Gwaine.
That thought made him frown once more at the offending trees they were passing. He missed Gwaine because Gwaine was his friend, nothing more. The more he tried to convince himself of that fact, the more unlikely it became. Frustrated, Merlin let some of his prickling magic flow out his fingertips to his mare, smoothing away her small aches.
Merlin patted her neck with a small smile as she sighed out in contentment—at least he could do one thing right lately. Magic, he thought with heart panging a bit, still wasn’t free and Arthur has been on the throne for about five years. It hurts, still after all this time, that something as pure as this would lead to his death—but he knew deep down that he wasn’t afraid of dying, not anymore. No, Merlin was terrified of how his friends would react after years of deceit and pain.
Just out of reflex, Merlin looked towards them. He found Gwaine staring at him, concern written on every feature, but the second their eyes met, his friend quickly started up another conversation with the others.
Merlin ignored the deepening pang in his chest and the nausea rising in his throat—this was nothing, he told himself, Gwaine didn’t mean anything by that.
The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He was about to suggest they stop, wanting a distraction, when he heard the noise. His mare also stopped, feeling him stiffen. Merlin whipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.
“Merlin?” Gwaine quickly came to his side, but Merlin’s head didn’t move, “Do you hear something?”
Merlin wished he didn’t, just so he could use this as an excuse to talk to him, but he scowled lowly in response, “Bandits—ten, if I’m right, and many have magic.”
He knew Gwaine wouldn’t ask how he knew—he never did.
The man nodded, and Merlin’s heart lightened a bit when Gwaine didn’t say “to relax” or that “he was paranoid” like the rest of the knights would’ve done. It always felt good to not be second-guessed.
“How long do we have?”
Merlin tilted his head, “Two minutes, at most.”
Gwaine grunted in response, galloping towards Arthur. Merlin didn’t like the void he felt in his heart the second Gwaine left his side, but, shaking his head, he knew there were more important matters to think about. Merlin watched, amazed, as the knight got everyone’s attention so easily. The way he talked, with his rare seriousness expression, captivated everyone just as much as his joking did.
And although Merlin tried to convince himself that the knights would listen to him that way if he told them, he knew they would never.
Merlin was a simple country boy, wasn’t he? He had no credibility to them. He couldn’t truly blame them—it’s not like Merlin was an open book. He lied, but never completely. His cheerful, idiotic personality was a cover of sorts, but it was just another part of who he was. He wasn’t only the clumsy fool, but what could he do to show them otherwise? They knew Gwaine hid his problems in jokes and clever remarks, so what was so wrong with Merlin doing the same? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t think he wanted to.
Showing them the magic, the part that was so integral to who he was, would lead them to fear him, not respect him as one of their own. He didn’t want recognition, that’s never why he did what he does, but some form of understanding between them all is what he craved, what he wished. To not be second-guessed when he knew everyone’s lives were at stake and that he could save them...but that was only a fool’s dream.
He stopped with the rest of the knight when Gwaine convinced them that something was coming.
“Merlin,” Gwaine said from the top of the group, “go to the tree line, you won’t get hurt there.”
Merlin nodded with a carefully blank face—the battling emotions, of love and irritation, whirling inside of him.
They don’t know you can protect yourself, the logical part of his mind reminded him. After all these years, Merlin thought, I should be able to accept the coddling with a full heart. It showed that they do care about him, but why did it never feel that way? Merlin felt like an obstacle in their way—someone to protect, to always watch out for, a hindrance.
Merlin felt silly for the negative thoughts—none of this could be helped right now, so why dwell on these facts?
Aiming for the most advantageous spot, Merlin saw the first bandit pop out next to Eylan, who effectively took the man down. Percy patted him on the back as they moved around Arthur, flanking their king in preparation of the ambush.
As the air pulsed with anticipation, Merlin’s eyes strayed towards Gwaine, like always. The man’s face was grime, ready for battle, as he surveyed the surrounding area.
Merlin was distracted as a noise came from behind him, and he quickly spun around to face the intruder. The bandits with magic were walking smoothly towards him and Merlin panicked—do I attack? He changed his mind quickly, not thinking about it too much, as he turned around and ran towards his group to warn them.
Merlin guessed the obvious panic on his face spurred the knights to run towards him, but it was too late. One of the bandits threw a spell at him with a force that threw him to the side, hitting a nearby tree.
He vaguely heard the shouting of the knights as the attackers surrounded them, all eight of them chanting under their breaths as they did so, forcing the circle of the roundtable knights to still. Merlin groaned in pain, lifting himself.
Protect them. Protect them.
His only goal—and it has been since the beginning. In that moment, Merlin realized how unimportant it was that they never knew about the magic. The knights knew how much Merlin loved them, so everything else was secondary. Merlin, with or without his magic, would always put himself in danger if it meant his friends can see the next day.
Pulling himself up with the tree, he shook his head and listened to the droning monologue of the leader.
Same shit, as always.
Merlin couldn’t help but laugh—loudly. The monotonous speaker abruptly stopped talking as they all stared at Merlin laughing.
He couldn’t help it, honestly.
The leader narrowed his eyes at him, “What’s so funny, boy?”
Arthur and Gwaine shook their heads in looks that screamed “shut up, Merlin,” but Merlin held his stomach as the laughter subsided, the smile still on his face as he replied, “Nothing, I swear,” but then another chuckle escaped as the leader frowned at the answer.
When one of the lackeys stepped forwards with a sword pointing at him, Merlin sobered up, a smirk in place, as he lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you! It’s just...every time this happens, one of you always explains why you are doing what you are doing. And every time, and I mean every time, it is revenge for what Uther did. Who, by the way, is long dead. Arthur, like always, gets blamed for his father’s actions. Are you guys just daft, or does everyone truly believe Arthur is actually Uther? It’s quite simple, really. Uther was a tyrant—I think we can all agree on that, but attacking his son? What’s the purpose? To show the King that magic can never be used for good? You know when all he sees is magic being used against him, of course he will hate it. What other choice would he have, hmm?”
Merlin’s smile dropped off as he shook his head, walking towards the stunned group, “Honestly! I get it, I truly do, but this will never solve anything. You are perpetuating the violent cycle, you understand?”
At Merlin’s question, the leader growled, “All I see is a stupid servant running his mouth.”
Merlin’s face lit up, “Interesting. Nothing took, then?”
He heard Gwaine sigh, “Merls?”
Merlin looked over at the knight, who had a small smile on his face, “Yes, Sir Knight?”
Gwaine laughed a bit, “You might be slightly more dramatic than me, and that’s impressive, to say the least. You think your lovely wit could save us?”
Merlin smiled at the knight, his heart feeling more full than it has all week, and winked, “Well, it was worth the shot?”
And as they just continued smiling at each other, Merlin saw the leader blink and shake his head, muttering something to one of his followers with nothing but malice on his face.
Merlin watched, almost in slow motion, as the next spell was directed at Gwaine.
That wasn’t the plan.
Merlin yelled, “No!” as he sprinted and leapt in front of the knight as the spell hit home. Merlin gasped in pain, staring in shock at the sizzling hole in his abdomen, and he heard the leader laugh.
Merlin's focus narrowed solely on the leader, everything else drowning out as that malicious laugh continued. The bandits all started chanting once more, circling the group, and when he started hearing the grunts of pain from his friends, Merlin’s mind, in a moment of pure clarity, repeated: protect them.
So, with a hole in his stomach, Merlin straightened up and locked eyes with the people hurting his friends.
“This stops. Now.”
And before they could get another word in, Merlin’s eyes burned the brightest molten gold. The wind whipped, the sky darkened, and the ground shaking with Merlin being the center of it all. The bandits backed up hastily, staring at Merlin like a newly found god, and Merlin blinked at the action—their actions full of desperate fear, and that wasn’t right. He never wanted to be feared.
Merlin let the power steep into his voice, “Leave now and never hurt anyone ever again. Do you understand?”
They all shook their heads, bowing at the waist for him, and right before they ran with their tails between their legs Merlin could swear he could hear their whispers of Emrys.
The minute they were out of sight, Merlin sagged. His entire body felt like it was on fire, his brain had pulsating pain that felt like lightning behind his eyes. And when his strength left, he felt two people’s arms wrap around him.
Looking up with all his effort, Merlin saw Lance and Gwaine on either side of him, the latter with a sword up at the abnormally silent group.
The world was blurring when Merlin heard Gwaine snarl at the king, “You take one wrong step and I will run you through.” And even in his state of delirium, Merlin knew Gwaine meant it.
“Gwaine,” Merlin whispered, the pain lacing through his body in waves, “it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Gwaine bit back still facing Arthur and the knights with his sword raised high.
Merlin smiled sadly, staring at his knight, “Gwaine?”
That got the man’s attention, the anger draining out of him the minute their eyes met, and Merlin continued quietly, “Thank you.” The “thank you for not hating me for having magic, thank you for protecting me, thank you for being here” went unsaid, but not unheard.
Merlin saw Gwaine’s eyes water, “You’re going to be fine, Merls, you’ve been through worse, you know? This is nothing.”
Merlin let out a wet laugh, “Yeah, maybe.”
Gwaine was speaking again, but Merlin couldn’t hear him anymore. The pain became too much then, so Merlin let the black spots in his vision take over, and he welcomed oblivion with a smile.
—————
The next few times Merlin woke up, he was against someone’s front with a horse galloping at full speed underneath him. He would groan, but quickly succumb to the pain again.
The first time he could actually open his eyes completely, he was staring at a very familiar ceiling. Merlin gasped as he tried to move, his hand flying to his stomach.
“Merlin! Don’t move, my boy,” Gaius’s worried face came into view, “You need some rest, but you’re going to be just fine.”
Merlin figured as much when he took the hit, knowing his magic wouldn’t let him die that easily.
He blanched, remembering what happened, “Gaius?” he rasped out, his voice felt scratchy like he had been screaming for hours, “Is everyone…?”
Gaius frowned, but Gwaine, who Merlin just noticed was sitting right next to him, answered for him with nothing cheerful on his face, “Everyone is fine, thanks to you.”
Merlin sighed in relief, looking back up to the ceiling, and he heard Gaius pat Gwaine as he moved out the door leaving the two of them alone.
They sat in a comfortable silence until Merlin asked, his voice small, “Gwaine, what happened?”
Gwaine huffed out a breath, out of anger or pain, Merlin didn’t know, as Gwaine moved to sit next to him on the cot. Merlin grunted a little as he moved to make room for him, and Gwaine frowned at the noise.
“I’m fine, I promise.”
Gwaine looked at him in clear disbelief, “I’m sure.”
Merlin sighed, looking up at the knight, “Tell me?”
Gwaine nodded in defeat, “I threatened princess, as you know,” Merlin nodded, a frown forming, “I was going to throw you over my shoulder and run for it.”
Merlin blinked, “That was your plan? Even when you’re mad at me, you were still going to take me with you?”
Gwaine’s eyes widened, “I’m not mad at you! What made you think that?”
Merlin looked to the side, “You’ve been avoiding me, Gwaine, I know it.”
Gwaine flinched, “Oh. That.”
After the moment of heavy silence, with Merlin’s heart feeling like it was breaking, he moved on, “Whatever, you obviously didn’t need to use that plan since I’m home. What happened?”
Gwaine smiled a bit here, “Well, Sir Lancelot and I stood our ground. Lance had a lot to say about you for a man of such a few words. While I lifted you up, and took you away from the group, Lance told them everything. Arthur,” Gwaine shook his head, “he looked betrayed and hurt at first, but after a day of Lance’s tales of you, and mentioning how you literally just saved us once again without bloodshed, Arthur finally came to his senses—especially when I kept threatening him.”
Merlin started crying, unwillingly, blindly grabbing for Gwaine’s hand, “So, what now? Everyone knows and I’m not dead? Am I banished? Hated? Feared?”
Gwaine’s face was uncharacteristically soft as he wiped the tears from Merlin’s face with his other hand, “Now...now, we make history and show these assholes what they’ve been missing. Merlin,” he tightened his grip on his hand, “I always knew something was different about you. And I never, ever, feared you for a moment—even as you made those bandits shit themselves.” Gwaine let out a small laugh at that, the soft smile returning to his face, “I don’t know how many times I need to say this until it gets through that stubborn head of yours: I came to Camelot for you and you alone. No princess or wealth keeps me here, you do.” Gwaine stilled his hand on Merlin’s face, “And if I needed to, I wouldn’t have hesitated to grab you and run—I’ve always been prepared for that, actually.”
Merlin kept crying, “Then why?” Why have you been distancing yourself? Why did you make me think you hated me? Why are you so loyal to me?
Gwaine's face fell at Merlin’s hoarse and quiet question, “I’m not good enough for you. I knew how I felt, and I knew you deserved better than me. I haven’t stayed in one place this long before, and I thought if you knew that you were the only person keeping me here that I would scare you off before we even had a chance.”
Merlin stared at his knight, understanding and sadness flowing through him, “Gwaine,” he choked out, “you’re an idiot.”
Gwaine gaped, undignified, “Hey! Bold words for a man who is utterly vulnerable at this moment.”
Merlin laughed lightly, “An idiot,” he continued, “who I love.”
Gwaine’s eyes shone brightly, “Love,” the disbelief in his voice hurting Merlin’s heart, “You love me? Merls, are you sure?”
Merlin laughed again at the absurdity of the wild man in front of him, “Yes, Gwaine, I am sure. Only if you wouldn’t mind facing the uncertainty of my future—“
Merlin was cut off with a loud, surprise gasp when Gwaine threw himself on top of him for a hug, then grabbing his face, and placing a rather soft kiss to his lips.
“Merlin. I would rather be at your side, with the threat of the world crushing us, than anywhere else. You, my magically beautiful friend, will never feel alone again in this life. I give you my sword, my heart, and everything I am—if you will have me.”
Merlin nodded, his eyes watering once more, and smiled into the next kiss with his knight.
Merlin felt the burden of destiny in his soul lift in his embrace with Gwaine—and he knew, deep in his heart and soul, that with Gwaine at his side, they could face any uncertainty coming their way.
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