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The mouth of the tunnel stretched before them dark, narrow, and uninviting, like it had no intention of letting anything back out once it swallowed it whole.
Merlin stopped mid-step.
“…oh no,” he said slowly.
Arthur didn’t even turn at first. “What?”
Merlin pointed at him. “That face. I know that face.”
That did make Arthur look.
Leon and Lancelot immediately glanced between them, already knowing where this was going. Elyan folded his arms, mildly curious. Percival just stood steady, watchful.
Gwaine, meanwhile, was a few steps off to the side, entirely occupied with tossing a pebble into the bushes.
Merlin narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
A beat.
“What’s in the tunnels?”
“There are… erm…” he gestured vaguely, as if the answer might appear in the air. “Wildrons.”
Merlin blinked. “What are wildrons?”
Arthur straightened slightly, attempting confidence. “They’re like–” he spread his hands wide “–giant–”
Merlin made a face.
Arthur faltered. “…baby rats.”
Lancelot looked down, pressing his lips together.
Leon coughed lightly, disguising a smile.
Percival very deliberately looked away.
“Baby rats?” Merlin repeated, suspicious. “They don’t sound so bad.”
Arthur nodded once. “They feast on human flesh.”
Merlin stared at him.
“…of course they do,” he muttered. Then, a bit louder, “Maybe we should go over the mountains.”
“No,” Arthur said immediately. “That would take too long.”
“And this won’t?!” Merlin gestured at the tunnel.
Arthur ignored that entirely and instead reached, pulling out Gaia berries, without another word, he started smearing the dark juice across his face.
Merlin watched, horrified. “…what are you doing?”
“Wildrons are completely blind,” Arthur said, slipping into that instructive tone he used when he’d already decided. “They hunt by smell. Gaia berries mask human scent, if we cover ourselves in them, we may pass through undetected.”
Merlin grimaced but reluctantly took some. “Ugh–these stink! They’re awful!”
“Perhaps you prefer to be eaten alive.”
Merlin immediately held out his hand. “Pass me some more.”
Arthur didn’t hesitate, he grabbed another handful and smeared it directly across Merlin’s cheek, a bit rougher than necessary.
Merlin spluttered. “Arthur!”
“You missed a spot.”
“I did not–!”
“You did.”
Behind them, Elyan snorted. Gwaine, returning just then, stopped short.
“…why does it smell like something died?”
Leon answered calmly, “We’re masking our scent, wildrons track by smell.”
Gwaine frowned. “…what are wildrons?”
Arthur glanced toward Merlin, who was now trying to wipe berry juice off his sleeve and only making it worse, then turned back to Gwaine.
“They’ll eat your face off,” he said flatly.
No hesitation. No softening.
Gwaine blinked. “…right.”
Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Lancelot all caught it, the difference. The way Arthur answered Merlin versus Gwaine.
And despite the situation, there were faint, knowing smiles.
Gwaine looked around at all of them, still confused. “…I’m getting the feeling I missed something important.”
“You usually do,” Leon said dryly.
Gwaine sniffed the berries, recoiled slightly, then sighed. “If this kills me, I’m haunting you first,” he pointed at Arthur, before smearing them on anyway.
“Duly noted,” Arthur said.
Once everyone was ready, Arthur stepped toward the tunnel, then paused, turning back.
“Let’s get moving.” His gaze landed immediately on Merlin. “And you–don’t wander off.”
Merlin frowned. “When do I ever wander off?”
Every single one of them looked at him.
Merlin hesitated.
“…okay, fair.”
Gwaine smirked. “At least you’re self-aware.”
“I am very aware,” Merlin muttered. “I’m aware this is a terrible idea.”
Arthur ignored that and moved forward into the tunnel.
The others followed immediately, but not loosely.
Not casually.
They closed ranks.
Arthur at the front.
Elyan just behind him.
Leon and Lancelot on either side.
Percival right behind
And Merlin, firmly, unmistakably, in the center.
Gwaine hovered near Merlin’s side, casual in posture but not in attention.
Merlin noticed almost instantly.
“…you’re doing it again.”
“No, we’re not,” Arthur said from the front.
“Yes, you are,” Merlin shot back. “This formation, this is a formation.”
“It’s called strategy.”
“It’s called I’m being escorted like a royal treasure.”
“You are a liability,” Arthur corrected.
“Oi–!”
Behind him, Percival’s hand hovered near Merlin, not touching, just there.
Ready.
Protective.
Leon shifted slightly closer on Merlin’s left.
Lancelot mirrored on the right.
Gwaine bumped his shoulder lightly. “If it makes you feel better, I’d let them protect me too.”
“That does not make me feel better.”
The tunnel grew darker the deeper they went.
The air colder.
Damp.
Every sound echoed, boots on stone, fabric shifting, quiet breathing.
Then–
A faint scrape.
Merlin stiffened.
Arthur’s hand came up instantly, silent signal.
Everyone stopped.
The shift was immediate.
Weapons drawn.
Postures sharpened.
Percival stepped closer behind Merlin, one hand now lightly but firmly at his shoulder.
Leon angled slightly in front of him.
Lancelot did the same.
Gwaine’s joking expression vanished completely.
“…those don’t sound like baby rats,” Merlin whispered.
Arthur didn’t turn. “Stay behind us.”
“I am behind you.”
“Further.”
Percival gently guided him half a step back.
Merlin didn’t argue this time.
Another sound.
Closer.
Low. Skittering.
More than one.
Gwaine leaned slightly toward Leon. “…still not entirely clear on what we’re dealing with.”
“They’re not rats,” Leon murmured.
“Brilliant, that clears everything up.”
Elyan tightened his grip on his sword. “How many?”
Lancelot listened carefully. “…more than one.”
Merlin swallowed. “Of course there are.”
Arthur took a slow step forward.
The others moved with him instantly, tightening around Merlin without even thinking about it.
A shield.
A wall.
Arthur’s voice dropped, steady and commanding. “No one breaks formation.”
“And Merlin?” Gwaine asked quietly.
Arthur didn’t hesitate. “Stays with us.”
Merlin huffed weakly. “I’m starting to feel very included.”
“You should,” Lancelot said softly. “It means we intend to keep you alive.”
Merlin blinked at that.
Then from the darkness ahead something shifted.
Low to the ground.
Too large.
A faint, clicking hiss echoed through the tunnel.
Merlin instinctively leaned back, straight into Percival, who steadied him immediately.
Arthur raised his sword fully.
“…if it comes closer,” he said quietly, “we hold.”
The creature moved again.
Closer.
And not one of them, not Arthur, not the knights–
moved an inch away from Merlin.
If anything they closed in tighter.
They went completely still.
Not just quiet, still.
Even Gwaine didn’t speak.
The tunnel seemed to hold its breath with them.
Arthur’s hand lifted slightly, fingers tightening just enough to signal do not move.
Merlin obeyed instantly this time.
He barely even breathed.
The skittering grew louder.
Closer.
Closer.
Until something shifted right in front of them.
Merlin’s eyes widened.
In the dim torchlight, he could just make out it, low to the ground, its body wrong, moving in quick, jerking motions.
Then it stopped.
Right in front of Arthur.
The wildron let out a low, hissing sound and leaned forward.
Sniffing.
Merlin’s stomach dropped.
Arthur didn’t move.
Didn’t even blink.
Slowly, carefully the creature moved closer, its nose twitching, its head tilting side to side as if trying to make sense of the scent.
Another skitter behind them.
Then another.
They were surrounded.
Merlin felt Percival’s hand tighten just slightly on his shoulder, not pulling him, not moving him, just there. Solid. Steady.
Leon shifted his stance a fraction, placing himself more firmly between Merlin and the creature to the left.
Lancelot did the same on the right.
Gwaine’s sword was raised, but he didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
For once, not even a joke.
The first wildron crept closer.
Too close.
It stopped inches from Arthur’s face.
Merlin’s eyes went wide.
This is it, he thought. This is how we die. Eaten by not-baby rats in a tunnel that smells like rotten berries.
The creature inhaled sharply
Then turned its head.
Confused.
It made a low, frustrated hissing noise.
Behind them, another wildron brushed past Elyan’s leg.
Elyan didn’t flinch.
Didn’t even twitch.
Arthur’s voice came, barely a breath.
“Don’t move.”
Merlin wouldn’t have even if he could.
One of the creatures moved toward him.
Straight toward him.
Merlin’s heart hammered.
It stopped right in front of him.
So close he could see the way its limbs twitched, the way its nose moved, the way its skin seemed to ripple.
It leaned in.
Sniffed.
Merlin squeezed his eyes shut for half a second–
Percival’s hand pressed just a little firmer against his shoulder.
Grounding.
Stay still.
Merlin opened his eyes again.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
The wildron made that same frustrated sound–
Then turned away.
Moved on.
Merlin nearly sagged in relief, but Percival’s grip steadied him before he could shift even an inch.
More of them passed.
Brushing close.
Too close.
One knocked lightly against Gwaine’s arm, Gwaine’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t react.
Another paused near Leon, sniffed, lingered–
Then moved on.
Seconds stretched.
Or minutes.
It felt like hours.
And then….
Slowly..
The sounds began to fade.
The skittering grew quieter.
More distant.
Until finally.
Silence.
Real silence.
Arthur didn’t move at first.
No one did.
Not until he slowly lowered his sword, just a fraction.
“…now,” he whispered.
And only then did they move.
Carefully.
Quietly.
Together.
They stepped forward, away from where the wildrons had been.
No one spoke for several long moments.
Then Merlin broke the silence.
“…baby rats,” Merlin whispered hoarsely.
Gwaine let out a breath. “I’ve seen a lot of things. That was not a rat.”
Elyan exhaled shakily. “I hate tunnels.”
Leon adjusted his grip on his sword. “We’re not out yet.”
Arthur finally turned slightly, just enough to look at Merlin.
“Are you alright?”
Merlin blinked at him, still pale. “…no.”
Arthur nodded once. “Good. That means you’re thinking clearly.”
Merlin stared at him. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does to me.”
Before Merlin could argue, Arthur reached up and wiped a bit of berry juice from near Merlin’s eye, more careful this time.
“You did well,” he added, quieter.
Merlin paused.
“…I didn’t do anything.”
“You stayed still,” Lancelot said gently. “That’s not nothing.”
Percival’s hand finally dropped from Merlin’s shoulder—but he didn’t step away.
Not really.
Gwaine clapped Merlin lightly on the back. “Congratulations. You survived being sniffed by whatever that was.”
Merlin grimaced. “I’m never getting the smell out of this jacket.”
“You’ll absolutely try,” Leon said.
Arthur turned back to the tunnel ahead. “We keep moving, stay close.”
Merlin didn’t even argue this time.
As they walked, the formation naturally fell back into place.
Arthur in front.
Knights around.
Merlin in the center.
Protected.
Watched.
And very much not alone.
The moment they stepped out of the tunnel, it was like the world breathed again.
Fresh air.
Real air.
Merlin didn’t even wait, he stumbled forward a few steps, dragging in a deep breath like he hadn’t been breathing properly the entire time.
“Oh, thank everything,” he muttered. “I’m never going underground again.”
“Noted,” Arthur said, though there was the faintest hint of relief in his voice too.
Elyan stretched his arms. “Next mission, somewhere sunny.”
“With no tunnels,” Merlin added quickly.
“With no you complaining,” Gwaine shot back.
Merlin glared at him, then froze mid-retort.
“…is that water?”
Just a little further ahead, the sound of rushing water cut through the forest.
A river.
They all looked at each other.
Then moved at the same time.
Within minutes, boots were kicked off, sleeves rolled up, and everyone was crouched by the riverbank, scrubbing at their hands, faces, anything they could reach.
“It’s not coming off,” Elyan groaned, splashing water on his arms. “Why is it not coming off?”
“Because you used far more than necessary,” Leon said, trying and failing to get the smell off his own hands.
Merlin was practically attacking his face with water. “I smell worse than a troll’s den!”
“You do smell worse than a troll’s den,” Gwaine said cheerfully.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Before Merlin could respond, Gwaine grabbed a cloth, dunked it in the river, wrung it out and reached straight for Merlin’s face.
Merlin jerked back. “Oi! What are you doing?”
“Fixing this,” Gwaine said, completely unbothered.
“I can do it myself!”
Gwaine just grinned and caught Merlin by the back of the neck, ofc not rough, just firm enough that Merlin couldn’t wriggle away easily.
“Hold still.”
“I said I can–Gwaine!”
Too late.
Gwaine started wiping at Merlin’s face with exaggerated focus.
“Honestly,” he muttered, “you’d think you rolled in it.”
“I practically did!” Merlin complained, trying to push his hand away.
“Stop squirming.”
“I am not squirming!”
“You are absolutely squirming.”
“I am being attacked!”
Gwaine laughed, wiping another streak of berry juice off Merlin’s cheek. “If I were attacking you, you’d know.”
“Gwaine–!”
“Hold still or I’ll start over.”
Merlin froze immediately.
“…you wouldn’t.”
Gwaine raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
Merlin huffed but stayed still, muttering under his breath while Gwaine continued, far too pleased with himself.
A few steps away, Arthur watched the whole thing.
Arms crossed.
Expression carefully neutral.
Leon leaned slightly toward him. “You could stop him.”
Arthur didn’t look away. “Merlin’s fine.”
Merlin, at that exact moment: “I am not fine!”
Lancelot smiled faintly. “He does seem… handled.”
Percival stood nearby, still quietly keeping an eye on Merlin despite the relative safety now, ready to step in if needed, but relaxed enough to let Gwaine have his moment.
Elyan snorted. “He’s enjoying this far too much.”
“Of course he is,” Leon said.
Gwaine finished one side of Merlin’s face and leaned back, inspecting his work.
“There,” he said. “Almost human again.”
Merlin glared at him. “I was always human.”
“Debatable.”
Merlin shoved him lightly. “Give me that,” he snatched the cloth, immediately scrubbing at the remaining berry stains himself. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Gwaine said, completely unfazed, “you’d be lost without me.”
“I’d be cleaner without you.”
Arthur finally stepped closer, crouching slightly and grabbing Merlin’s wrist mid-scrub.
“Stop,” he said.
Merlin blinked. “What–?”
Arthur tilted his chin up slightly, inspecting his face, then took the cloth himself.
“You’re just smearing it around.”
“I am not—!”
“You are.”
Merlin opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Because Arthur was already wiping the remaining berry stains off his face, more careful than Gwaine, more precise.
Less teasing.
More… deliberate.
“…you could’ve just said that,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur didn’t look at him. “I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“I implied it.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
Arthur ignored him, finishing up and pulling the cloth away.
“There,” he said.
Merlin blinked.
“…thank you.”
Arthur nodded once, like it was nothing, and stood.
“Make sure the rest of it’s off,” he added, already turning away. “We’re not carrying that smell any further.”
Merlin watched him go for a second.
Then looked at Gwaine.
“….You two are terrible.”
Gwaine grinned. “You still love us”
Around them, the others were still cleaning up, grumbling about the smell, but the tension from the tunnel had finally lifted.
They were safe.
Together.
And, slowly..
slightly less disgusting.
By the time they were done scrubbing, the sun had dipped low enough to paint the sky in deep orange and fading gold.
“Perfect,” Gwaine muttered, wringing out his sleeve. “We survive flesh-eating… whatever those were, only to freeze to death.”
“We’re not freezing to death,” Arthur said, already scanning the area. “We’ll make camp.”
It didn’t take long to find a small cave tucked between rocks—not nearly as deep or threatening as the tunnel, just enough to shield them from the wind.
Arthur stepped inside first, checking every corner, every shadow.
Only when he was satisfied did he nod. “This will do.”
The others moved quickly after that, falling into routine without needing instruction.
Bedrolls were unrolled.
Gear set down.
Weapons placed within easy reach.
Leon and Elyan sorted supplies. Gwaine disappeared briefly, “Firewood,” he claimed, though no one entirely trusted that and came back with an armful anyway. Lancelot helped Arthur clear a space near the entrance.
Merlin, meanwhile, crouched near the center, coaxing a small fire to life. The sparks caught quickly, flames flickering warm and steady.
“Finally,” Merlin muttered, holding his hands out toward it. “Something that doesn’t try to eat us.”
Lancelot settled beside him with a small smile. “Give it time.”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
Leon joined them, handing Merlin a small pot. “Here. If you’re cooking, try not to poison us.”
Merlin scoffed. “I’ve kept you all alive this long.”
“That’s highly debatable,” Gwaine called from across the cave.
“It’s not!” Merlin shot back.
As the fire grew, Merlin started working, cutting, stirring, moving with practiced ease. Lancelot passed him what he needed without being asked. Leon adjusted the pot when the flames got too high.
It was… easy.
Familiar.
Behind them, Arthur glanced over more than once, checking, making sure Merlin wasn’t too close to the fire, that nothing was out of place.
He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t need to.
Percival returned from outside, ducking into the cave with a quieter step than someone his size should manage. He paused when he saw Merlin by the fire, just for a second—then reached for one of the spare blankets.
Merlin didn’t notice until a heavy warmth settled around his shoulders.
He blinked, looking down.
Percival had wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it in just slightly so it wouldn’t slip.
Merlin looked up at him. “….i wasn't cold.”
Percival raised an eyebrow.
Merlin paused.
“…okay, maybe a little.”
Percival didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod and stepped back to his place.
Merlin pulled the blanket closer anyway.
“…thanks.”
A quiet, almost invisible smile crossed Percival’s face.
Across the cave, Gwaine watched and smirked. “You’re getting soft, Merlin.”
“I am warm,” Merlin corrected.
“Same thing.”
“It is not the same thing.”
Arthur stepped in then, glancing at Merlin, at the blanket, at the fire.
assessing.
Satisfied.
“Food?” he asked.
“Almost ready,” Merlin replied, stirring the pot. “Unless you’d like it raw.”
“I’d prefer not to die tonight.”
“No promises.”
Arthur huffed faintly but sat down nearby, within easy reach.
Not too close, not too far.
Merlin caught it, like he always did now.
He didn’t comment.
Didn’t point out how Arthur had positioned himself between Merlin and the cave entrance.
Didn’t mention how Leon and Lancelot had done the same on either side.
Or how Percival was still just behind him.
Or how Gwaine, despite lounging like he didn’t care, hadn’t actually moved far either.
He was used to it.
Had been for a long time.
If it got too much, he’d usually roll his eyes, sigh dramatically, or mutter something about them being worse than a mother hen.
Now, though Merlin just stirred the food.
Let the warmth of the fire settle in.
Let the blanket stay around his shoulders.
“…you’re all ridiculous, you know that?” he said eventually.
“Yet here we are,” Gwaine replied.
“Surrounded by overgrown knights who think I’ll trip over my own feet if left alone.”
“You would,” Elyan said.
“I would not!”
Arthur didn’t even look at him. “You have.”
“…once.”
“Twice” Leon corrected. “and it was only today”
“Three times,” Gwaine added helpfully.
Merlin glared at all of them. “Traitors.”
Lancelot smiled softly. “We’re simply observant.”
Merlin huffed, but there was no real heat in it.
Just familiarity.
Comfort.
The fire crackled.
The cave filled with warmth, quiet conversation, and the soft clink of gear being settled for the night.
And Merlin, wrapped in a blanket, definitely didn’t need complain.
Not really.
The food didn’t last long.
It rarely did when there were this many knights involved.
By the time Merlin had finished his own portion, the pot was nearly empty, and Gwaine had already claimed the wineskin, leaning back against the cave wall like he owned the place.
“–and there I was,” Gwaine was saying, gesturing broadly with one hand, “surrounded by twelve men, all twice my size–”
“Three,” Merlin cut in immediately, not even looking up from where he was adjusting the fire.
Gwaine paused. Slowly turned his head.
“…what?”
“Three,” Merlin repeated, calm as anything. “And none of them were bigger than you.”
There was a beat.
Arthur’s lips twitched.
Elyan snorted.
Leon didn’t look up from where he was methodically cleaning his blade, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. “That does sound more accurate.”
Gwaine frowned. “You weren’t even paying attention.”
“I was there.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Gwaine blinked. “…you were not.”
“I was,” Merlin said, finally looking up, completely unfazed. “You tripped over a bucket before the fight even started.”
Lancelot covered his mouth, trying not to smile, spoilers, he failed.
Arthur leaned back slightly, clearly entertained now. “A bucket?”
“It was dark!” Gwaine protested. “And it was in a very inconvenient place!”
“You fell,” Merlin said simply.
“I recovered.”
“You fell again.”
Elyan laughed outright at that.
Percival, sitting a little apart, quietly sharpening his blade, let out a low chuckle without looking up.
Gwaine pointed at Merlin. “You are ruining a perfectly good story.”
“I’m improving it,” Merlin shot back. “Making it believable.”
Leon finally glanced up. “That’s generous.”
Gwaine scoffed and took another drink. “Fine. I’ll tell it properly then.”
“No, you won’t,” Merlin said.
“Yes, I will.”
“You’re physically incapable.”
Arthur huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“Go on then,” he said to Gwaine, clearly indulging this. “Try again.”
Gwaine straightened, clearing his throat like he was about to address a court.
“–there I was,” he began again, more dramatically this time, “facing at least ten men–”
“Three.”
“–armed, dangerous–”
“One of them dropped his sword.”
“–and vastly larger than myself–”
“They weren’t.”
Gwaine stopped.
Very slowly turned to Merlin.
“…do you want to tell the story?”
Merlin shrugged. “I could.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Gwaine muttered.
“I’m not encouraging him,” Arthur said. “I’m curious.”
Merlin grinned slightly. “Well, if you insist–”
Gwaine groaned. “Oh, for–”
“Gwaine challenged them,” Merlin began, entirely ignoring him. “Very confidently, I might add.”
“I was confident.”
“You tripped over a bucket.”
“It was dark!”
“You fell into them.”
“I launched myself strategically.”
“You screamed.”
“I did not scream.”
“You absolutely screamed.”
Elyan was laughing so hard he had to lean back against the cave wall.
Lancelot was openly smiling now.
Leon shook his head, though his expression had softened.
Even Percival’s shoulders were shaking slightly with quiet laughter.
Arthur watched Merlin as he spoke, amused, yes, but also fond.
“…and then,” Merlin finished, “he somehow managed to win anyway.”
Gwaine perked up immediately. “See?”
Merlin shrugged. “Mostly by accident.”
“Skill,” Gwaine corrected.
“Luck.”
“Skill.”
“Luck.”
Arthur raised a hand. “Enough.”
They both stopped, though Merlin was still smirking.
Arthur looked between them, then said, “However it happened, he won.”
Gwaine grinned triumphantly.
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Fine. He won.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re still terrible at telling stories.”
“And you’re still alive because of me.”
Merlin paused.
“…debatable.”
Gwaine gasped in mock offense. “I risk my life–”
“You tripped over a bucket.”
“That is not the point!”
The cave filled with laughter again, easy, warm, familiar.
Percival finished sharpening his blade and set it aside, his attention drifting briefly toward Merlin, just checking, as always.
Leon returned to cleaning his sword, movements steady and precise.
Lancelot leaned back slightly, relaxed now.
Elyan wiped at his eyes, still chuckling.
Arthur stayed where he was, gaze flicking once more toward Merlin, taking in the blanket still around his shoulders, the way he sat close to the fire, the way he looked… comfortable.
Safe.
“…get some rest soon,” Arthur said after a moment, voice quieter now.
Merlin glanced at him. “…yes, sire.”
But ofc there was no bite to it, just familiar ease.
And Gwaine, of course, ruining the moment–
“I’ve got another story,” he announced.
Merlin groaned immediately. “No, you don’t.”
“Oh, I absolutely do.”
Arthur sighed. “This should be interesting.”
“It involves twenty men–”
“Not twenty!” Merlin cut in again.
And just like that, the night carried on.