Deafening Silence

The Usual Routine

The door to Merlin's chambers flew upon at the hand of Gaius as he barged into the room bearing a worried expression. This frightened Merlin, who had no auditory warning of his doors usual creaking or Gaius' prominent footsteps from behind it.

"What on earth was that?" The old physician asked his ward rather loudly, the same ward who was still sat upright in bed looking startled. Merlin's distressed look made Gaius mellow a bit. Then, he noticed the book on the floor and put two and two together.

Before Gaius could say anything, Merlin had turned his gaze from him to look at the book, not saying a word. He was just...staring at it.

"Merlin...can you hear me at all?"

Truth be told, Merlin could hear Gaius, but his voice sounded like harsh buzzing to his ears, completely unintelligible. Merlin almost wished that he had the ringing back, at least then he could hear something. Something would have been better than nothing but buzzing when Gaius spoke to him.

"The ringing's gone, but now I just...I can't hear anything." Since Merlin couldn't hear himself, he spoke slower than usual and hesitated more. He hadn't even been awake long but knew his condition. Merlin could always hear birds outside his and Gaius' chambers in the morning, or the sound of people in the citadel, or even the sounds of Gaius working outside his door, which usually woke him up better than anything.

Gaius had treated deaf people before but had never had to live with one. He knew he would need to adapt their usual routine until Merlin regained his hearing but first figured that the boy needed something normal to start his day. That something was breakfast.

The older man approached Merlin and shook him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixation. "You need breakfast. Breakfast." He uttered slowly, placing emphasis on the last word hoping Merlin would lip-read it.

Luckily for both of them, Merlin understood and rose to follow him to the table, wiping away a secret tear along with it. As the pair sat and ate what Gaius had prepared for them, Merlin reflected on the evening events of the day before. A day he wouldn't forget.

Gaius had diagnosed him with a serious head injury after he got back from the hunting trip with the knights and Arthur, which was obvious to anyone with a brain. Because his head was still ringing by the time Arthur was expecting Merlin in his chambers, Gaius had forbidden him to attend to his duties, citing he was in absolutely no condition to do so. Merlin obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

George was sent by Gaius in Merlin's place to see to the King last night.

*The night before*

Arthur was disappointed but not surprised when George appeared from behind his chamber door. He knew immediately that it couldn't be Merlin, as this person knocked before entering. Merlin would never do that; it just wasn't in his nature.

"My sincerest apologies, your majesty." George had started once he'd closed the door. "I've been sent by Gaius in the place of your usual manservant, Merlin. He told me to inform you that he has a head injury, but should be able to resume his normal duties in the morning." The much more proper servant told his King.

Hearing that Merlin may be back by the morning, Arthur felt a sense of relief. That must have meant he was okay, even if the idiot wasn't here right now to attend his duties. Arthur tried to mask his obvious relief at George's words, simply replying "That's good, George. Would you get me some dinner?"

"Of course, Sire." George had said with a bow, turning on his heels to the door to fetch the King's dinner.

Arthur walked aimlessly around his chambers, deep in thought. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't stop thinking about Merlin. He tried to hide the image of his best friend laying on the ground with the filthy bandit towering over him, ready to take his life. He tried to unsee Merlin laying there, head in his hands and in pain. He didn't deserve to be in pain, Arthur thought, but he'd never admit it out loud. Arthur should have been there to protect him, but he'd failed.