Title: A Warning

Author: Arisprite

Wordcount: 2,748

Summary: Somehow, riding out to war to 'prevent the pointless killing of innocents' didn't seem as valid when so many innocent men died under his hand in the healing tent anyways.

Warnings: (General) Wounds, blood, gore, potentially dangerous, and perhaps not thoroughly researched medical practices, tiny bit of swearing. No slash intended, but friendship can look like more from the outside. You're free to take my words however you like.

(This Part) Description of battle wounds, blood, injuries to canon character. Mention of assisted suicide.

Disclaimer: Obviously I am not the owner of BBC or Shine. I'm a college student! Song lyrics and title are from "This is War: by 30 Seconds to Mars.

Series: Part 4 of the Physician's Apprentice Series (formerly titled Five Times Merlin Had to Heal Someone Else, and One Time He Had to Heal Himself). Merlin has gotten tired of never knowing what to do in emergencies, and heaven knows his healing magic is unreliable at best. So he begins to study medicine under Gaius, just in case.

A/N: This is where things start getting intense, kids. Much research went into this part; in battle wound treatment, as well as shock, and exhaustion.

Thank You: To my sister, Kate-7h, who is awesome, and is my unofficial beta in all things Merlin. I owe you a treat!

A warning to the people

The good and the evil.

This is war.

To the soldier, the civilian

The martyr, the victim.

This is war

Chapter 4

They rode out to meet the oncoming army, for a level battlefield on their own land gave them the advantage. Arthur's words of the declaration to go to war echoed in Merlin's head, distancing his mind from the actions his hands took.

The civilians of Camelot were safe, save those who'd come to help, himself included. Someone had to get Arthur into his armour (and if there were enchantments and spells of protection woven into the mail, and strengthened each time he cleaned it, who was to know?) Others came as well, village healers from the outlying villages, and men and women who just wanted to help. Gaius was here. Gwen was here, for the same reason he was. The healer's tents were full with people, wanting to do their part in the war that had descended on Camelot, and on the shoulders of her new king.

The enemy army had come from the north, the neighbouring kingdom ignoring treaties made with Uther, and discrediting Arthur as king. When they began to attack the edges of the kingdom, killing and ransacking as they came, Arthur felt he had no choice but to gather an army and go out to meet them; a battle in an attempt to stop the pointless killing of innocents.

It was these words now that ran through Merlin's brain. Killing of innocents, killing of innocents.

Heaven knows he did not include himself in that category. Not for a long time. But others, the men who came through the healing tent, where he spent all his time nowadays, they were innocents. Young men, with equal or fewer years than Merlin had himself, had died before his eyes. And the war was to prevent the killing of innocents.

Merlin had been helping in the healing tents for days now. At first, he'd tried to stay with Arthur, as always. But Arthur had objected strongly to that.

"Merlin, this is a war! It's different from anything you've ever seen before."

Merlin followed Arthur into the large king's tent, the red flap swinging backwards behind, giving their discussion a modicum of privacy, though the guards posted outside the doors could hear every word through the canvas.

"I've fought before!" Merlin returned, heatedly. "I can handle myself; I won't let you go out there alone."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing noisily. "I won't be alone, Merlin. I'll be surrounded by knights, men who are actually trained to fight in these kinds of situations. You are not. Roadside skirmishes with bandits aren't the same."

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, but Arthur cut him off.

"No, I won't hear anymore." Arthur turned to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Really, Merlin, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But it would be more dangerous to have you there. I'd be distracted, having to watch out for you."

Merlin frowned heavily, but felt his arguments slipping. "You wouldn't have to watch out for me. I can take care of myself."

Arthur quirked his lips, but didn't reply to that. "Please, Merlin. Stay where you can help the most, and that's with Gaius. You have training there, and there will be wounded." His voice lowered, and darkened at the last, and Merlin honestly could not refuse him, though it grated him.

He made sure to ask the other knights specially to look out for Arthur, which they assured him they would do. Merlin's stomach churned, but he told himself it had to be enough.

After that the fighting started, and Merlin saw little of anyone or anything besides blood and bodies.

Merlin assisted Gaius with whatever he needed. Gaius wasn't the only physician there, but he was the highest ranking by virtue of being in the court, and so Merlin joined the ranks of the lower physicians and healers, some of which had barely more training than he had.

The men began pouring in a while after the battle commenced. The wounds were horrific. Sword wounds, arrows embedded in the flesh, crushed limbs from hammers or maces

Merlin removed arrows, cleaned and stitched wounds, bandaging them with torn linens. He assisted Gaius in amputations and mercy killings when the pain became too much, the wounds too extensive. He held a young man's hand as he died, the blood flowing out faster than anyone could stop it.

Two days the fighting went on, and Merlin barely slept, couldn't eat, but spent all his time helping the wounded and the dying. Soon infections started, and the putrid smell of rotting flesh made Merlin feel as if he'd never eat again. Gaius, when he could spare the energy sent him worried looks, but Merlin didn't notice. His mind focused on Arthur's words, while his fingers stitched yet another sword gash.

Merlin looked up once, to see a familiar figure stagger in. Red cloaks and chain mail mean nothing in this army, but Merlin knows that armour anywhere; he cleans it often enough.

Heart in his throat, Merlin rushes to the entrance to see Arthur, supporting another man, his head low, but was familiar to him as well. Gwaine?

"Arthur!" Merlin called, hurrying closer. Arthur looked close to collapse himself, and Gwaine, his hair matted, was almost completely limp.

"Merlin!" Arthur exhaled in relief. "Help me with him."

Merlin took to the other side, pulling Gwaine's arm around his shoulders, and bringing him to a rare empty cot.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, laying Gwaine down, and hearing a groan. He started undoing the fastenings of the armour. There was blood on the mail...but where is it coming from?

"He's been stabbed, shoulder." Arthur panted, leaning on the cot. "He saved my life."

Merlin gave Gwaine a quick glance, guilt running through him.

"Help me get his mail off." Merlin said, already lifting Gwaine's arms in practiced moves, only vaguely aware of the fact that he was ordering his king around. However, Arthur did as he said without a word.

Once the wounded area was clear, Merlin leaned in closer. It was deep, but didn't puncture through to the other side. Blood was being lost, more than Gwaine could spare, judging by his complexion, and the chill of his skin. Merlin washed the wound with the spare water, but he knew that someone would need to get more soon.

Shaking his head, he turned back to Gwaine, and felt a flash of panic. This was his friend! He couldn't do this! He glanced around.

Gaius was busy, another wounded soldier crying out under his hands. Everyone around him was occupied. It was down to Merlin.

"I'm going to have to stitch the wound, and pray it doesn't get infected." Merlin said to Arthur, meeting his eyes. Arthur had caught his breath, and was watching Merlin, almost as if he were waiting to be told what to do...a strange position to be in, for sure!

Merlin gathered the materials: alcohol, waxed silk thread, medicated linens, herbs for bleeding, and to prevent infection, and honey, recalling that first time Gwaine had been unconscious on Gaius' table. With everything ready, he got to work.

"Hold him down for me. It'll hurt to clean the wound."

Arthur leaned across Gwaine's upper body, leaving the wound clear. Merlin poured the astringent alcohol into the open wound, cleansing it and causing Gwaine's semiconscious body to arch in pain. Arthur grunted, and pressed down hard, holding him steady with an effort. Merlin bit his lip, and prepared the needle, before beginning to sew, the blood making his fingers slippery. He made straight and neat lines, pulling the edges of the wound closed, and slowing the blood flow. Arthur, whose face was close to the wound because of his position, was staring at the table, cheeks pale, and lips bloodless. Merlin felt dim humour at that, Arthur getting squeamish over a battle wound. But most of his mind was focused on his task, and finally the wound was closed, and the blood stopped. What was left was easy; dressing a wound was something he probably could do in his sleep by this point. Arthur eased away, and Merlin tied off the last of the bandages.

"There." Merlin said, suddenly breathless. He grabbed a bottle, painkiller, and attempted to remove the lid, but his fingers wouldn't cooperate. He didn't notice they were shaking badly until Arthur's steady fingers took the small bottle from his hand, and popped the stopper out. "He needs to drink that, painkiller. Protects against infection."

Arthur nodded, and lifted Gwaine's head gently to pour the liquid into his mouth. Gwaine was aware enough to drink it quickly, and Merlin breathed out shakily in relief.

"He should be alright. I'll check that bandage again in a few hours...and..." Suddenly his head rushed away from his body, and the bed was much closer to his forehead when it stopped. Merlin realized that Arthur's hands had grabbed his shoulders, and were leaning him down against Gwaine's cot, in lieu of a chair.

"-eathe, Merlin. It's alright." Arthur was murmuring, and Merlin obeyed the half heard command, filling his lungs. Then the stench of festering wounds, and sickness came to him and his stomach lurched. He grabbed whatever he could grab in a white knuckled grip (it happened to be Arthur's wrist) until the rolling in his stomach calmed.

Eventually he released Arthur's metal clad wrist with a grimace of embarrassment, and wiped his brow.

"I'm fine." He murmured, straightening up. His head still spun, and Arthur had to catch him again.

"You're not fine." Arthur muttered fondly, looking around. He lowered Merlin to the ground, having him lean against Gwaine's cot, while he went to find Gaius.

Merlin sat where he'd been put, his knees pulled to his chest, and head lowered onto them. He concentrated on breathing. He knew that he should be helping; others were just as run down as he was, and were doing more to help. Merlin didn't deserve to get a rest when everyone else had to keep working, keep fighting. But he couldn't force his legs to move, his head to rise. He wondered vaguely when he'd last slept.

A voice filtered through his muzzy head, a soft gentle voice that in no way could ever belong to the king.

"Merlin, look at me." A slender, though rough hand titled his head up, causing it to spin some more but not as badly. Merlin blinked.

"Gwen?" He tried his voice raspy. He blinked again, then jolted up. "Gwaine!"

Gwen grabbed his shoulders quickly, and forced him to stay down (it seemed obscenely easy for her to keep him on the ground...) "Merlin, don't worry! Gwaine's fine. He's right above you, sound asleep."

"Oh..." Merlin whispered, tiredness causing him to sink back.

"Arthur's talking to Gaius, but he sent me to keep you company." Gwen continued, and Merlin found himself having to concentrate very hard to comprehend what she was saying. "Arthur wants Gaius to look at you."

Merlin did understand that, and he shook his head. "No, I'm fine. There're others...they need help. More than me."

Gwen smiled softly. "You just collapsed, Merlin. You need help too. When was the last time you ate? Or slept?"

Merlin was pretty sure a shrug wasn't the greatest answer to those types of questions, but it would have to do. He was tired.

"Oh Merlin," Gwen murmured.

Then more voices joined hers, and Merlin realized with a start that his eyes had fallen shut. He peeled them open to see Arthur and Gaius before him. They hadn't been there before.

Gaius was leaning in, touching his face, and peering into his eyes. He looked tired, frazzled. So did Gwen. And Arthur. So why were they concerned about him?

"You're right, sire. Exhaustion, and probably a fair amount of shock." Gaius was saying. "I'd recommend a full night's rest and a warm meal at the very least. I regret I was so busy with the wounded, I neglected my assistants."

"At least, most of your assistants have the common sense to sleep and eat regularly." Arthur said, exasperation and fondness colouring his tone.

Merlin's mouth turned down. He was almost sure there was an insult in there, but his foggy head couldn't make it out.

His puzzling was interrupted by large hands seizing his upper arms and an abrupt change in elevation. Merlin staggered forwards as he was pulled to his feet, and felt strong arms wrap around him, taking his weight. His arm was tugged around armoured shoulders, and then they were moving forwards.

Merlin roused more as his feet were forced to move or drag on the ground and he realized that Arthur was taking him away from the healing tents, towards the camp.

"'Rthur...?" Merlin mumbled, furrowing his brow. He turned his head towards the battled field, but he could hear no cries. The absence of the near constant noise was almost deafening. Merlin couldn't fathom how he hadn't heard it before. Or not heard it, rather... "The battle?"

"We've ceased fighting for today. Gave the people time to gather their dead, and wounded, on both sides. And rest, as you must do."

Merlin stubbornly shook his head, trying to pull away from Arthur's strong grasp.

"I'm needed in the healing tents..."

"You, Merlin, would be useless in the healing tents." Arthur said, adjusting his grip so that Merlin had no chance of slipping away. "At least, at the moment. You weren't doing too horribly in there an hour ago." Arthur said, glancing over at him. "Thank you, for helping Gwaine."

Merlin flushed, and to his embarrassment, felt tears pricking at his eyes. He'd been terrified. Gwaine's life had been in his hands, and his alone, and if he'd made one mistake...

He shuddered, and Arthur glanced at him questioningly.

"We're almost there." Arthur muttered, stepping into the circle of tents where Arthur, the court, and the knights had camp set up. Merlin had been sharing Gaius' tent, before the battles had started at least, and he'd taken to kipping on a cot for a few hours in case someone needed him, but Arthur was steering him towards his own large red tent.

"Hmm?" Merlin questioned, too far gone for proper words.

His soft inquiry wasn't answered and the last he remembered was Arthur pushing him down on his soft bed, and pulling heavy and warm blankets up to his chin.
Merlin woke in the morning, ravenously hungry, and much embarrassed about the display last night. Gwaine made a full recovery, and Merlin's excellent stitching barely even left a scar, much to his disappointment. Merlin continued helping in the healing tents for the duration of the war, but the tides had turned that night, and the victory was Camelot's a few days later. And Arthur would never forget the night he stayed awake to watch over his manservant, feeling awed by the other man's selflessness, that he would run himself into that state for the sake of others. Arthur resolved then, to never let that happen again; if Merlin was too much of an idiot to take care of himself, then Arthur would have to do it for him.