A/N: Oh wow look what I found lying around in my laptop. I wrote these drabbles ages ago.
Summary: He prayed. He prayed for the Old Gods and the New, for the earth and the seas and anything he could think of, just to be able to see Merlin smile at him again.
I own nothing.
There was nothing they could do. Arthur knew that, but still, it hurt him so much he couldn't bear it. He couldn't admit defeat.
Gaius said it wouldn't take much longer, and Arthur didn't know whether this was causing him to feel relief or unbearable grief. He wanted, so bad, the pained expression on Merlin's face to disappear. He wanted the choked gasps to stop, just stop... wanted him to find peace. But there was no way he'd get any better, and the only relief the young servant would find will be in death. And that was something Arthur could not accept.
He felt so helpless.
So powerless.
He was king Arthur. He was a knight of Camelot. He was Uther's son. There was nothing he could not do, and this unfamiliar feeling of helplessness filled him with so much rage he wanted to scream and punch something, over and over again until his hands will bleed and the pain will overcome the hole that kept growing in his heart.
He could not let him die. He won't.
And he kept telling himself that as he sat on the small stool next to Merlin's bed, neglecting his duties and leaving his meetings to his trusted knights. He repeated it over and over in his head, swearing to himself and to Merlin to never let him go, to cure him somehow even though he knew this could never be.
They could never be.
Leaning forward in the hard, uncomfortable stool, he glanced around for a second to see that Gaius wasn't there, and reached to place his palm over Merlin's limp hand. His skin was too warm, clammy. He didn't move much, except for the shallow, shuddered breathes that indicated he was still alive. Arthur sighed and cleared his throat, ignoring the lump that started forming there.
Weakness. He hated to admit that. But he had one weakness, and it was currently lying on the thin bed before him, struggling to breathe.
It's been a few days now, since the last time Merlin was conscious. Arthur got there just in time to see his cloudy blue eyes fluttering closed again, and to hear Gaius sadly whispering to Gwen he believed this would be the last time he'd wake. Arthur cursed then loudly, ignoring the hushed looks he got from Gaius. He wished the young serving girl the Physician sent to fetch him was faster... that he was faster. He wanted to at least say goodbye to Merlin.
Now, sitting there beside his servant's fevered body, he prayed. He prayed for the Old Gods and the New, for the earth and the seas and anything he could think of, just to be able to see Merlin smile at him again. That goofy, stupid smile that was so inappropriate for a servant but so loved. So trusted.
The moisture on his face startled him and he angrily wiped the stray tear away.
No man was worth his tears.
A/N: So? Tell me what you think.
TBC