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Long, strong fingers carded through Merlin’s dark hair, gently, purposefully as if they could will some of Arthur’s strength into Merlin. He still wasn’t sure what had happened, he wasn’t sure he needed to know. Merlin was hurting and that was enough. He’d been awoken by Merlin’s mumbled words of distress, not that he could make out much more than the occasional “no” and “Arthur”, but the pained contortion of his face was enough for even the most insensitive man to understand. He’d crawled the small distance to where the young man was sleeping, they’d only taken a handful of men with them on this hunt and most of them were trusted and already knew about his and Merlin’s relationship, but that didn’t mean either of them were going to flaunt it.
“Merlin,” Arthur called softly, lips against the man’s ear.
“Arthur?” It was a sad, pained sound, barely even a word.
Reaching out, Arthur gripped Merlin’s arm shaking him slightly. “Merlin? Wake up.”
“No… not time… no… please…”
Somehow Arthur didn’t think his sleeping lover was speaking of waking up. He huffed as if he was being put out and lifted the thin blanket covering Merlin to slide down next to him. “Come here, you great lummox,” he murmured against Merlin’s hair as he manhandled him onto his chest and returned to running his fingers through Merlin’s hair. The contact seemed to do the trick calming the young warlock back into a peaceful sleep. Arthur smiled into Merlin’s unruly hair and pulled him closer. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked himself as he did at least once daily. He knew the answer, he’d do everything in his power to keep him safe and at his side, whatever that meant… including climbing into his bedroll to still his nightmares.
Soon Merlin’s breath evened out, matching the soft rise and fall of Arthur’s chest.