#febuwhumpdayone

[batrogers]

FebuWhump 2025: Day One -- Vocal Chords

War of Eras, Young Link.

Implied compound fracture, and screaming himself hoarse... Enjoy!

Also on AO3

III

Eventually, Link’s voice gave out and he gasped in air and tried to breathe instead. He was panting, then, still struggling – still too weak to think.

He’d fallen under the cavalry, he thought. He supposed he was lucky to be waking up at all but...

As soon as he thought about it again, the pain was back, lancing up his leg like knives in his flesh. He lost track of time again, facedown in the bloody mud, and whimpered while his throat was still too sore to even scream again. He couldn’t hear battle anymore, not as much at least but that was little comfort: it meant nobody was nearby, either, and he was so small...

Small, and splattered in mud. He wiped it off his face once he could move and looked around. Was there any movement? Not really. The cavalry were gone, as were the monsters they’d been chasing down.

Link had been in the fray, and probably too small and wet and bloody from knifing a bokoblin in the throat to be seen... And, even if he had been seen, there was no way the charge could’ve been stopped in time. He knew that – didn’t blame them...

But, Gods and spirits, his leg hurt. He twisted in place, trying to look without moving his hips but it was hard. He could move a hand down his leg, towards his femur. He could feel the swelling, then a tear in his skin that stung when he touched it, and something sharp. He couldn’t see – he was too covered in blood and muck to make out much. His shorts had torn, he thought, and couldn’t figure out much else.

He wasn’t bleeding to death that fast, or he’d already be dead, he knew. But that was... that was bad. He swallowed hard all over again and made a small noise in his throat. He needed to move – to get up. He needed to get found because he definitely couldn’t walk like this. Even moving his hips sent spikes of pain that wanted a scream and couldn’t even get that much from his throat...

And what use was screaming on this field? Nobody would be able to tell him apart from anything else. But he couldn’t... couldn’t talk. Couldn’t make the words work – had never been able to make words work. The tears were burning against his eyes and he bit his lip as the helplessness stole over him and robbed him even of breath.

He just wanted the pain to stop, wanted someone to help him, but h-he couldn’t...

He couldn’t cry out. Couldn’t even beg for help.

And his leg wouldn’t stop hurting.

[gins-potter]

Febuwhump Day 1

Title: things gone unsaid

Fandom/Pairing: Chicago PD/Burzek

Prompt: head wound

Warnings/triggers: gun violence

Kim saw Adam drop to the ground out of the corner of her eye and felt her stomach drop right along with him.

They’d been tracking a trio of drug dealers, who couldn’t care less about how many bodies they left in their wake, for weeks when they’d finally cornered them in the abandoned warehouse.  And it hadn’t taken more than five minutes for the encounter to turn deadly as first the dealers had pulled out their weapons and then the members of intelligence returned fire.  And now Adam was on the ground and that was blood splattered all over his face.

“Adam,” she yelled, eyes darting back and forth from his prone body and the dealers, two of whom were still on their feet and fighting hard.  Her stomach twisted when Adam didn’t so much as stir before glancing sidelong at Jay on her other side.  “Cover me,” she barked.

Jay didn’t argue, just nodded sharply and obediently squeezed off a half dozen rounds, forcing the dealers to duck for cover and giving Kim enough time to run across the exposed area separating her from Adam.  She was terrified of what she might find when she did but she didn’t hesitate, quickly reaching his side and dropping to her knees.

Relief, more intense than Kim thought she’d ever experienced before, swept through her as she saw the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and she felt near tears as she quickly searched for injury.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, choking on something between a laugh and a sob.  She’d found the wound on his scalp and her probing had caused him to open his eyes and hiss something uncomplimentary at her.

A bullet had clipped him, and by Kim’s estimate had been less than an inch away from doing fatal damage, but other than that he seemed okay.  She didn’t let herself think about that and busied herself by yanking off her jacket, wadding it up, and pressing it to the wound with one hand while she tried to clean as much blood off his face as she could with the other.

“Kim?”  Adam frowned and peered up at her when her ministrations didn’t ease.  “What happened?  Are we clear?”

Kim was more concerned about the slight slurring to his words, and truthfully wouldn’t have cared if the drug dealers right at that moment were driving away in a getaway car.  But he was struggling to push himself up to see for himself, so Kim risked a quick look around; the gunfire had ended and Hailey and Kev were cuffing a dealer each while Voight stood next to the third who was on the ground and unmoving.  Jay however, was standing apart from the others, speaking with his phone held up to his ear, as he looked at Kim and Adam.

“We’re okay, we’re okay, an ambulance is coming, you’re going to be okay.”

Kim knew she was babbling but didn’t know how to stop.  Adam was the unshakable one between them, the grounded one, always on his feet, always ready to take on whatever came next.  She wasn’t sure she knew how to be that for him.

Adam reached up and found the hand that was still pressing the wadded up cloth to his head, fingers fitting around her wrist easily as his thumb slid back and forth over her thundering pulse.

“I know, I know I’m going to be okay.”  His gaze wasn’t quite focused on her, his words still slurring a little, but he sounded sure of himself.

So sure, that Kim found herself asking, “How do you know that?”

“Because you’re with me.”

This time it was her heart that swooped, but before Kim could figure out what to say in response, the sound of approaching sirens reached her ears, and within seconds, Sylvie and Violet were bursting into the warehouse, a gurney rolling between them.

Sylvie and Violet were calm as they tended to Adam, a calmness that Kim latched onto even as her stomach still twisted painfully at the sight of him in the back of the ambulance.  Adam, who claimed to be feeling better with every passing minute, wanted to skip the hospital altogether once his head had been bandaged but it was a non-negotiable for the two paramedics.

So as they were preparing to depart, Kim found herself stepping up onto the back of the ambulance, pausing only long enough to toss a “I’m riding along” over her shoulder to the others.  No one objected, possibly because they’d already decided that it made the most sense for her to go along, or even more likely because they knew arguing would be futile.

Kim felt like she didn’t know where to look or what to do with her hands as she sat beside Sylvie in the ambulance.  She caught Adam’s gaze once long enough for something deep and intense to flash between them but then she looked away, the ambulance feeling much too small and much too public all at the same time to say all the things she wanted to.

Sylvie, oblivious to everything that was hanging unsaid between them, said comfortingly, “They probably won’t even keep you overnight, you’ll be able to sleep in your own bed.”

His own bed, in the apartment they shared together, with Makayla, who felt like she was both of theirs.  Kim shuddered as she couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like to go home without him and have to explain to Makayla where he was.  The thought had her leaning forward once Sylvie turned away to fiddle with something and ease her hand into Adam’s, lifting it so she could brush a kiss to the back of his palm.  She allowed herself to rest her forehead against his hand for a fraction of a second as she savoured it’s warmth, the reminder that he was still here, that he was still alive.

They didn’t rush exactly when they got to the hospital, but moved just fast enough that Kim was worried about being left behind, not quite ready to have Adam out of her sight just yet.  But she was stopped at the entrance to his room by an unfamiliar doctor in a white coat.

“Family?” he inquired, not noticing or perhaps graciously pretending not to notice as Kim stood on tiptoe to keep Adam in her sight over his shoulder.

The question drew Kim up short.  Was she family?  No, not really.  But she didn’t not feel like family either.  How could she possibly explain their tangled history to this stranger?  Did being engaged once make them family?  Did them almost having one child together and ending up with another make them family?  But Adam was more than just Makayla’s father to her.  He was her rock.  Her safe place.

“He’s my partner,” Kim said, the word feeling wholly inadequate for everything Adam was to her.

Whether the doctor took ‘partner’ to mean in the romantic sense, or if he just noticed her badge, he stepped aside and allowed her to finally enter either way.  Kim wasted no time in crossing the room to slip into the chair at Adam’s bedside.

“This really isn’t necessary,” he was arguing with a nurse who was checking under his bandage.

“Let’s let the doctor decide that,” she said briskly in response.

Kim could tell Adam wasn’t exactly happy with that, but maybe he could tell that between Kim and the medical staff he wasn’t getting out without a thorough look over, because he sunk back against the pillows without further complaint.  So, for hours the doctors and nurses had him turn this way, and look at this light, lie still for this scan and so on.

Kim wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but between one test and the next she found her hand had closed around Adam’s once again, thumb automatically rubbing soothing circles into the back of his palm as she saw him get more and more frustrated with how long everything was taking.  It proved helpful when the doctor mused that a CT scan might not go astray either and Kim could sense Adam gearing up to protest.  He paused however when she squeezed his hand comfortingly, glanced at her, and then acquiesced with a sigh and slight nod.

Throughout it all there was a constant hustle and bustle in the treatment room as the doctor appeared and disappeared, nurses came in and out, along with x-ray technicians, and all manner of other medical staff.  So Adam and Kim didn’t get a chance to be alone with each other until he’d returned from his scan and they were impatiently awaiting the results.

“Sorry if I freaked you out back at the warehouse with what I said,” Adam said suddenly, interrupting the silence of the room.  They’d both been staring at the little tv in the top corner of the room, pretending to watch the muted cooking show that was playing on the screen.

“You didn’t freak me out,” Kim said automatically, not even pretending to play dumb.

Adam scoffed, a more cynical sound that he would usually direct at her.  “I saw your face.”

Her mother had always told Kim that she wore her heart on her sleeve, and while she’d mostly trained herself out of that trait working in intelligence, it seemed that Adam Ruzek would always be able to read her.

“I wasn’t freaked out,” Kim corrected softly, but didn’t elaborate further.

“Kim…” Adam prompted.

She sighed but stood from her chair and perched on the edge of his bed instead so she could say this to him face-to-face.

“I wasn’t freaked out,” she insisted.  “But I was surprised.”  The question was written all over his face so she continued.  “I don’t think I’ve ever realised that I could be such a comfort to you.  It always feels like you’re there to pick me up when I fall, to hold me when I’m breaking apart, and it scared me for a long time thinking that you might be able to handle walking away from me but I would never survive losing you.”

She doesn’t say it out loud, but she knows they’re both thinking of their broken engagement, of the thought that he might someday grow bored of her and walk away just like had with all his other engagements, of the way she had made the decision to walk away first and the way she’s kept him at arm's length ever since.  It had taken them both a long time to recognise it for the act of self preservation that it was.

“I guess part of me still thought that you didn’t need me as much as I need you.  Until you said that, that you would be alright as long as I was with you, because…” Kim trailed off and took a deep breath, wondering if she was really going to admit what had been growing clearer to her for months now.  “Because that’s how I feel about you, Adam.  All I need to be alright is you.”

She didn’t even realise a tear had slipped down her cheek until he reached out and brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.  He didn’t pull his hand away immediately afterwards though, cupping her cheek with it as he looked earnestly into her eyes.

“Darlin’,” he said, his voice the most serious she’d ever heard.  “I have always needed you and I will always need you.”

Kim hiccupped against the rising threat of more tears, but allowed Adam to pull her closer so they could finally lean forward for a kiss that felt like it had been years in the making.

“We’re all in on this, right?” Adam asked when they’d drawn back far enough to rest their foreheads together.  “No more messing around, no more running, we’re all in, the proposal, and the bad banquet hall, and the babies.”

“Yes,” she sighed, her breath warm against his face.  “Yes to all of it.  I love you.”

“I love you too.  Now can we please find that damn doctor so he’ll let me out of here and we can go home?”

Kim chuckled, and leaned forward to sneak another quick kiss.  Then she leaned back, eyes sparkling, and said, “You got it.”

[lonely-harts]

Febuwhump- Day One: Head Wound

Content warnings for this chapter: Sexism, ableism, mean/mocking behaviour, violence, kinda creepy whumper

“Chris, stop dithering about and go be useful somewhere else,” Jonty sighed, pushing back his dark brown hair from his brow and then rubbing his temples. “You’re doing my head in.”

Chris nodded and hurried out of the room, the glasses trembling in the cabinet as he passed.

“Carefully, you dolt,” muttered Jonty under his breath, returning to the array of photos in front of him. Unoriginal they called them. Inspired by a fucking sylph and these are unoriginal. Jonty thumped the table hard, the shock reaching the cabinet and sending the glasses dancing again.

Jonty flung his head back and grunted in frustration, everything is just too noisy today. He got up suddenly and the chair squeaked on the new wood floor. Goddamnit, Jonty thought bitterly, walking over to large windows overlooking the lake. Out there it looked calm, not a ripple in the water, not a leaf was stirring on the trees that hung delicately over it.

A slow, relaxed thought seeped its way to the front of Jonty’s mind, go take photos if the sun isn’t two degrees away from where you want it. Jonty’s jaw clenched, it was getting harder knowing what was his own sarcasm and what was the sylph’s. Instinctively he looked down, knowing that the sylph was bound somewhere below him. Jonty looked back outside, whether it was his thought or the sylph’s, it was a good one.

“Chris, come here,” Jonty called, his voice echoing about the new sparsely decorated house.

Chris returned from wherever he had got to, his tongue sticking out slightly as he tried to extract something sticky from his blond hair.

“Hey, Jonty, what you need?” he asked distantly, he was distracted by the gunk in his hair.

“Hey Jonty, what do you need,” Jonty corrected, folding his arms.

“S-sorry?” Chris offered. He looked up at Jonty and dropped his icky hair, Jonty’s dark brown eyes giving him something like a death stare. Chris cleared his throat and tried again. “Sorry Jonty, what do you need?”

Jonty relaxed, his mouth adopting a subtle smile and he walked over to Chris, who had resumed picking at his hair and swiped Chris’s hand off his well yucked up hair and put his own arm around Chris. “We’re going to take pictures of the trees in the lake, their reflection so you need to grab my 35mm, light meter and tripod.”

“Okay Jonty,” Chris said cautiously, moving his face away from Jonty’s. “You do remember I’ve gotta be back for classes at two, right?”

Jonty patted Chris’s shoulder but said nothing, smiling to himself as he went to fetch his coat.

  The air was frosty still, mist rising up from the lake which Jonty hadn’t seen before. Birds were calling too, and some squirrels were chattering. All too noisy for today. The reflection idea was shit anyway. Probably wasn’t mine, probably that useless sylph’s. Fuck! Jonty kicked a pebble into the mirror-like lake, the ripples spreading far and wide. Jonty squinted for a moment, watching before nodding excitedly and turning back to the house where Chris was carefully making his way down the slope, clutching Jonty’s equipment like they were jewels.

“Hurry up, Chris, I have another idea.”

Chris, if he heard Jonty, didn’t acknowledge him, instead, he was focused on where his feet went on the slippy dew-covered bank.

Jonty tossed his head back and tutted, marching back up the slope to Chris and grabbing his arm, practically dragging him down the slope. “We aren’t at bloody finishing school for fine ladies,” grumbled Jonty, depositing Chris on the lake’s shore.

“I’m sorry Jonty, I just didn’t want to drop anything,” explained Chris, mounting the camera on the tripod, adjusting the shutter speed and offering the stage to Jonty with a quick wave of the hand. “I can’t wait until I can buy my own-”

“Please, just be quiet, you’re giving me a headache,” said Jonty as he chucked another rock into the lake and peered through the viewfinder. Click! And Jonty rolled on the film.

“Throw two a little bit apart for me, will you?” he asked, watching Chris who had his eyes open wide like a child in a sweetie shop.

Chris eagerly nodded and threw one and then another, the second skipping a couple of times before going sploosh.

“No need to show off, Chris, I just want a rock in the water,” taunted Jonty.

“I-I didn’t know I could do that,” Chris said in amazement.

“Right, right, you’re Chris the Wonderboy, makes rocks jump on water, just throw them will you?”

  The cool midday went on much the same until the film was almost spent and Chris looked at his watch. “Jonty, I gotta go, it’s quarter past one, I need to catch the bus back to town, it’ll be at the stop in ten minutes,” Chris explained, rubbing his chilled hands together.

“Yeah, yeah, did you bring any spare film down with you? I’ll stay out here, the mist is starting to clear.”

Chris rummaged around in his pocket, his fingers lightly touching two rolls of film. He gasped, realising he hadn’t loaded the camera. “J-Jonty, d-don’t be mad… but…” Chris’s voice faltered as Jonty turned.

Jonty’s lips were barely visible with how hard they were pursed together and his hand’s were shaking in a seething, building anger. “Are you going to tell me, I have stood here, getting a headache, listening to you yammering on about 18th-century art, taking non-existent photographs, Chris?” Jonty said in a false sing-song voice, taking the camera off the tripod. “Because if you are, I suggest you don’t get the bus back to uni because I don’t think your brain can cope with it.” 

“I’m so sorry Jonty, I-” Chris began, trying to scramble back up the bank, but he slipped, his foot falling underneath him, making him slide back down, facing the rapidly approaching Jonty.

“Do you know how bad my headache is after listening to you for an hour?” Jonty swung the tripod high above his head and his eyes narrowed, looking down at Chris quivering below him, his hands outstretched like useless little shields.

Chris shook his head, words couldn’t form at all.

“All right, let me show you,” Jonty said, matter-of-fact, before bringing the tripod back down, right on to Chris’s head.

Chris yowled, the mount thumping the crown of his head before Jonty raised the tripod again. Birds in the nearby trees rose up and scattered at the noise. Chris crawled backwards, grasping at anything but all his hands found were last year’s leaves, leaving his head undefended.

“Hmm, that doesn’t quite sound like you understand yet,” hummed Jonty, swinging his leg over Chris so there was a foot on either side.

This time Jonty struck the side of Chris’s head, making Chris scream, his vision blurry and blacking out for a second before flickering back into bloody reality. Hot blood ran down his cold skin and dripped onto his shoulder, spreading out on the cream cotton shirt. Chris continued to scream, his hands shaking as they tentatively touched the left side of his head and came back with bloody blond hair on them.

“Yeah, that’s something like it,” Jonty said, satisfaction entering his voice, but also something else before he continued. “I’d better get you to hospital, don’t want my assistant dying because he’s clumsy, d-do I?”

Jonty’s fading smile swam before Chris before his vision went black, once again.

(photo credits x-x-x)

@febuwhump

[katelynnwrites]

pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

warnings: angst

summary: you try to convince Poe not to go on a mission and end up revealing a certain piece of information

word count: 758

Febuwhump Prompt: ‘I can’t lose you too’ (Alt 2)

‘Poe! You can’t be serious!’ You follow him as he determinedly strode through the hangar to his X-wing.

‘I’m doing this Y/n! The general said this mission was important!’ He yells back, BB 8 already firing up the ship.

You didn’t reply as you caught the sleeve of his flight suit, yanking him back to face you.

‘What? Why are you being like this?’ Poe’s face is flushed, his heated words hitting you hard.

‘I-I don’t think you should go. It’s too dangerous.’ You weakly say, suddenly unsure of your decision to chase after him.

‘That’s not new to us. Everything we do is dangerous. Why can’t you just let me go?’ He steps even closer to you and you close your eyes, struggling to come up with a reasonable argument. Anything to make him stay.

You were a quiet person, not one to make a scene, especially in a crowded hangar. You joined the Resistance after you lost everything when your home planet was taken over by the First Order. Eventually, you became fast friends with Poe despite your differing personalities. You didn’t intend on making friends but Poe had been persistent in his efforts. You didn’t want to feel the pain you knew you would feel if he didn’t make it back. Poe was reckless and he had a habit of jumping at the chance to take dangerous missions.

There was silence as you stared into his brown eyes. His brown eyes which were the first thing you noticed when you first met him. Up close, you could see the flecks of gold in them.

Falling in love with Poe was something else you didn’t intend to happen. It was the very last thing you wanted. Loving him was dangerous and foolish but you couldn’t help it. The more time you spent with him, the more you found new things to love about him.

The way the corner of his lips would ever so slightly tilt up when he found something amusing. The adorable pout he would give when he wanted something. The messy curls he would have after taking off his helmet.

The love you had for him snuck up on you. Slowly but steadily you fell for him and there was no going back. Not even when you were sure it would be a painful landing.

******

Infuriated by your continued silence, he shoves past you to climb into his X-wing.

His actions cause a surge of panic to rush through you and you desperately raise your voice, the consequences of your words be damned as long as it made him stay.

‘Because everyone I’ve ever loved has either died or left me!’

It worked. He froze on the last rung of the ladder and tears sting your eyes as you softly add, ‘I can’t lose you too.’

******

Time stands still and Poe is pretty sure he heard you wrong. You’re staring at him, fear and desperation written all over your face.

He’s sure he’s dreaming as he jumps down the ladder and faces you.

Your face is white, tears falling down your face as he touches your cheek wonderingly as if he’s afraid he’s going to wake up any moment now.

‘You love me?’ Poe asks and you suck in a shaky breath before nodding.

He’s dreamt of you reciprocating his feelings for years now but never would he have imagined it would be this way. In this situation.

Ever so slowly, he leans down to brush his lips against yours. Once. Twice. A third time to convince himself it’s real.

You’re still trembling when he rests his forehead against yours and brings his hands up to rest on your waist.

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?’ You repeat, confusion evident in your voice.

‘Okay. I’ll ask Leia to swap me for someone else. You’re not going to lose me Y/n. I’m never leaving you.’ He explains, taking your hand in his.

‘What?’ Your mind is whirling, thoughts running through it faster than you can process.

‘I love you too. If you’ve got a bad feeling about this mission then I won’t go. I won’t go because I trust that your instincts are right.’ Poe casually replies, leading you back to the briefing room.

You blink in shock as he tightens his grip on your hand, smiling as he makes his way through the hallway.

That led to a rather awkward conversation with Leia on why he couldn’t go on this mission because as he put it, ‘The girl I love doesn’t want me to go.’

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Febuwhump Tag List:

@febuwhump

[some-weird-queer-writer]

Merlin Febuwhump Day 1: Vocal Chords

Fandom: Merlin

Word count: 1,275

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, bit of Gwaine

Whumpee: Merlin

Whumper: Unspecified noble

Whump intensity level: 3/10

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Summary:

Merlin only grinned at him, threw a pillow in his face, and went to pick out an outfit. Arthur slowly sat up. He had known something was wrong, but as he listened to birds chirping outside and the sound of people milling about in the courtyard, he realized what it was. “Merlin… why are you not talking?”

It took Arthur less than a second to notice that something was wrong. Merlin banged into his room, like always, but when he aggressively opened the curtains, he instead turned around and poked Arthur’s shoulders. 

“Good morning,” Merlin whispered to him. 

Arthur blinked at him sleepily. “Why so early?” he asked, only half awake. 

Merlin only grinned at him, threw a pillow in his face, and went to pick out an outfit. Arthur slowly sat up. He had known something was wrong, but as he listened to birds chirping outside and the sound of people milling about in the courtyard, he realized what it was. 

“Merlin… why are you not talking?” 

Merlin walked over to the changing partition and set down Arthur’s outfit before looking back. 

“Noth- nothing, just feeling quiet,” he replied. Arthur snorted in response. 

“Merlin, don’t think I’m so ignorant to not be able to tell when you sound like you’ve got a sore throat. Now,” he amended, “I’m not complaining that you’re not complaining, just don’t get me sick.” 

Merlin chuckled low in his throat as Arthur went to go get dressed. 

The day continued as many did, but without Merlin’s constant chattering. It made Arthur strangely unsettled, and he found himself talking to fill the silence. He told Merlin about how the latest visiting noble was acting, about how he was drafting a proposal for his father to increase the amount of aid some of the outer villages get during the winter, and his opinions on the new daggers Elyan had designed for the knights to carry. Merlin, the whole while, only smiled and nodded. It was deeply strange. 

Just after training, Arthur invited Merlin to clean his armor in his room for a change, to ‘keep me company while I work on my proposal.’ Merlin only dipped his head before going to get his cleaning supplies. In this brief moment of time without Merlin by his side, Arthur took a detour to where Gwaine was sitting by the training field. 

“Gwaine,” Arthur called to him. “Why is Merlin acting so odd?” 

“Good to know at least this doesn’t slip past you,” he responded, but without the usual venom. “I’m not sure what it is, but he’s been acting jumpy the last four days, and now he’s not talking, and he missed our weekly bar crawl last night.” 

“The bar crawl that’s him supervising you and Percival get drunk off your asses, you mean? It’s a wonder why he missed that,” Arthur snarked. 

“No, I mean it!” Gwaine wasn’t even offended, just concerned. “He normally takes a notebook to write down embarrassing shit we say and I swear if he could freeze snapshots of us doing stupid things he would, he seems to really enjoy it! Perc and I waited for hours before just going to one pub and coming home, it was so lonely.” 

Arthur just sighed before awkwardly patting Gwaine’s should and heading back to his chambers, where he knew Merlin would be waiting. 

Arthur and Merlin sat in the Arthur’s room for the rest of the afternoon, Merlin diligently polishing Arthur’s muddy chainmail and sharpening his sword while Arthur talked on about the proposal he was struggling with. It wasn’t until Merlin went to relieve himself that Arthur paused to think about his conversation with Gwaine. Then, something jumped out at him. Gwaine had given him a very specific timeframe - the last four days. What had happened in the last four days alone? 

Everything came together all at once. Four days ago, a prince from a ways away had come to visit his father. The prince was, in all practical purposes, the king of his land, so there was little for Arthur to do - but Merlin had been called upon to help him settle in, and had disappeared at odd hours in the days since. 

Merlin appeared in the doorway and gave Arthur a smile, soft and smirking as ever. Arthur looked at him, suddenly noticing the way he was favoring his left leg, how his necktie was a little higher than normal. How he swallowed like he was in pain. 

In the blink of an eye, Arthur was across the room, grabbing Merlin by the shoulders. He saw fear and panic flash through Merlin’s face and Merlin backpedaled, until suddenly Arthur had ended up cornering Merlin into the wall. 

“No- just- Merlin hold still!” Arthur said, struggling to keep Merlin from running away. “I just- what-” 

“Let go of me! I don’t- just let me go!” Merlin yelped, and with a sudden burst of strength Arthur didn’t know Merlin had, he had thrown off Arthur’s grip and shoved him hard across the room. By the time Arthur had regained his balance, Merlin had grabbed a poker from the fire and was holding it out, shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face. 

“Merlin… I’m not trying to hurt you,” Arthur said, hands up. 

“Oh yeah? Why’d you pin me to the wall?!” Merlin cried out, voice creaking and hoarse. 

“Cause you won’t show me what’s wrong!” 

Everything fell silent. Merlin, trembling and still raising the poker out in front of him, tilted his head to the side. 

“Wh… what do you mean?” 

“You keep acting like nothing is wrong, like you’re fine! And I know damn well you’re not! And you won’t let me see!” 

Again, silence. This time, Arthur slowly walked forward, hands still raised. Merlin shakily raised the poker even more, and Arthur kept walking until his chest was pressed to the tip of the cold metal. 

“I’m sorry for charging you,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Merlin whispered. 

“I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to.” 

Merlin paused, then slowly lowered the poker. He pointedly did not drop it. Arthur took another step forward. Then another, and one more. Finally, they were just a few inches apart. Carefully, Arthur raised his hands to Merlin’s neck. Merlin inhaled and closed his eyes. 

“Just… just do it,” he whispered. 

Arthur, with gentle fingers, untied Merlin’s neckerchief and pulled it away. 

Merlin’s neck was a mess of blue and purple. It spread all around his neck, where the imprints of fingers could be made out. Arthur’s eyes welled up. 

“Oh, Merlin, my dear,” he said. “I wish you had told me!” 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, shying away and stepping back. 

“No, don’t apologize, I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me! Wait, let me… uh… I’ll call for some tea?” Arthur fumbled for something, anything. 

“The bruising is on the outside of the esophagus but yes, I’d like some tea.” 

“Okay, good. Uh, I mean- not that the bruising is good but good, I’ll get- why don’t you go sit down?” Arthur said before darting past Merlin and sticking his head out the door to ask a passing servant for some tea. 

As he came back in, Merlin had sat down on the floor by the chainmail, where he had been working. To his surprise, Arthur joined him. 

“Look at me, Merlin,” Arthur said softly. Merlin did. “I cannot promise this will never happen again. Nobles are dicks. Hell, I used to be a dick!” 

Merlin snorted, though not for the reason Arthur thought he did. 

“Look - my point is that I will do my best to take care of situations like these, but only if you tell me when they happen. I am here for you, okay?” 

“...okay,” Merlin whispered. He offered Arthur a tender smile, and it was the most beautiful thing Arthur had seen all day.

[meowdayly]

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Febuwhump Day One! Happy February I love February its the Best Month. I Also Love Gabriel. Anyway.