Dumb idea, but it was something to do. I apologize for how out of character this is.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.

Gaius had been moments away from going to fetch his apprentice himself when the ebony came quick through the wooden door, hair disarrayed and breath uneven. The lanky teen doubled over the second he was inside.

"Symptoms?" Merlin got out before his father-figure could voice any concerns.

The court physician stared a moment longer before he understood, crossing over to his cabinets.

"Go ahead," he urged.

He watched Merlin stumble over to a chair and collapse with a little huff, brushing his hair up off of his forehead. Once he seemed to have his breath, or maybe just his memory back, he spoke again.

"Increased fever, dry cough, a stopped nose, and a consistent body ache. Also a complete and utter prick, but that's nothing new."

Gaius shot the the younger a little glare and stifled his laughter, swallowing down his own smile as he thought the symptoms over in his head. When he seemed to have a fair guess, he slipped jars and vials from his cabinets and lined them up along the table in the middle of the dinner table for lack of better space.

"I can mix up something to ease the pain and maybe open the lungs a little more," he noted more to himself, leaving to retrieve a little bowl to mix his ingredients.

When the ebony had caught his breath, he got to his feet and crossed over to help. He managed to keep quiet until the other was pouring the combined ingredients into twin glass vials.

"Anything that will knock him out?" he asked, offering two caps.

"The combined effects of these two should do the trick. If not, try that pan by the sink."

They both laughed and Merlin made a show of going to grab the pan before coming back to the table. He paused before picking the vials up.

"Any chance I could pick up some extra chamomile? Cloves?" his voice was softer now, sheepish almost.

Gaius' brow tightened.

"He's miserable, Gaius, I don't think I can take much more of his whining," he explained.

The ashen-haired man made his way back to the cabinets, rummaging through his ingredients again.

"You're a terrible liar, you know."

The ebony's shoulders slumped. "I know."

Weary blue eyes looked back to meet his own, easily finding his real intention.

"Merlin, don't use magic on this. Let the medicine run its course," he said sternly, a breath from an order as he filled a smaller basket with a few herbs that might help.

Merlin's brow knotted up and he looked away, a certain desperation tight under his eyes.

"Four other villagers have come to us with the same symptoms and they've all died. I can't risk-"

"They didn't have you watching over them."

Merlin looked over, almost sadly, rubbing his neck. A sigh was broken on his lips and he nodded, setting the vials in the basket with the ingredients as he took it into his hands. He left with Gaius' words hanging between them, an urgency to his step.

He had no sooner left the house when Arthur's cry tore halfway across the kingdom.

"Merlin!"

A little groan stirred in his throat and he shook his head, clutching the basket defensively before taking off down the path that the passing civilians had parted to make for him. He shouted apologies and gratitude after him until he made it inside the walls, to which he mounted the stone stairs as fast as his feet would allow him without spilling the basket's contents.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled again, once he hit the start of the hallway.

The sorcerer rolled his eyes and kept his pace until he got to the prince's door, balancing the basket on his hip as he pushed the door open. He was about to comment on how the prince was overreacting when he got a good look at him. The blond was curled in on himself, white as his sheets and trembling pathetically. Heart weighted in his chest, the ebony shut the door behind him and hurried over, brow drawn tight.

"Sorry I took so long," he apologized quietly, setting the basket on the table beside the bed and fishing out the vials.

Arthur sat up as soon as he saw he had company as though he were trying to play off the sickness, but he gave a small groan of agony as he managed to straighten. His eyes went straight for the vials and he grabbed for them before his servant could go on.

"The ah, first one-," Merlin began, but the other didn't seem to care for an explanation.

He simply uncapped them and downed their content as quick as he could, returning the empty vials. Without wasting time, he slowly laid back on the sheets and recurled, more discretely this time. The ebony swallowed hard, sitting beside the bed in a chair he had pulled up earlier and folded his hands into his lap.

"The first one should... expand your lungs... and the other should help with the pain," his eyes went anywhere but to the prince.

Even so, he could feel the blue eyes trained soft on him, reddened and wavering. A small pat on the mattress earned his gaze back, drawing a small smile to Arthur's lips.

"Aren't you going to call me a sissy?" he asked sorely, jaw giving a press. "Or... what was that new one? Dollop head? Kind of liked that one." He gave a little laugh, inspiring the other to give a little smile.

"Even those would be compliments to you, sire."

Arthur grimaced as he laughed, curling in harder on himself as his body racked with deep coughs. When he stilled, a groan followed out the coughs and he stayed curled tight until he seemed to catch his breath again. Merlin's heart stalled and he found himself on his feet fast, a hand tugging quick at his hair.

"I'll go get some more for the pain," he suggested, hand trembling as he gestured for the door.

He stopped at the little shake of a head, the fear sticking on the tail of each breath. His hand caught a post for the bed frame and he caught the other's eyes, fingers taut against the wood as he couldn't find the strength that made his friend up.

"What did they do for you when you were sick?"

If he hadn't been watching the prince's face, Merlin wasn't sure he would've heard.

"They, sire?" his brow drew in tighter.

Arthur's face contorted in thought and one hand worked up to hold his head just long enough for him to get a good hold on his thoughts.

"Your... mom."

Merlin's hand slid down the bed post and he stared at a random spot on the sheets.

"She would.." he swallowed hard, "hold my hand and tell me stories."

When he looked back, the blue eyes were trained weakly on him again.

"Can you do that?"

The prince's request caught him off-guard until he realized that he didn't actually mean the hand-holding part. Or maybe he did. At this point, the sorcerer wasn't sure how coherent Camelot's soon-to-be leader was. .

"You want me to..?" he clarified.

"Please," the prince nodded, hand going back to join the other around his middle.

Merlin pressed his jaw, but nodded and made his way back to his chair, taking a seat. He offered his hand with a little smile, earning a grin.

"I'm really terrible at this," he warned.

"You're terrible at everything. There won't be a difference."

They both laughed softly, waiting until Arthur's coughing bout subsided before continuing on with a deep crease in the healthier of the two's forehead.

"Alright... what should the story be about?" Merlin sighed, picking at the folds on the sheets.

There wasn't a beat of hesitance."Me."

Merlin failed to swallow back a grin, shaking his head. "Prick."

"You love it."

He held his tongue with a little smile and retrieved the basket he had on the dresser, tapping the prince's chin to get him to open his mouth. It was sort of exhilarating to be obeyed without question. Little by little, he pinched some of the extra herbs that had helped to pad the vials onto the prince's tongue until there wasn't much left to grab.

"Any side effects?" Arthur asked as he swallowed them down, making a dissatisfied sound at the taste.

Merlin set the basket back. "Hopefully, you'll get right to sleep. And I might start looking more handsome than usual."

A weak fist touched to his arm, meant to be a playful slug, and it made his heart ache more than it had before. He'd have to use magic. He couldn't stand seeing the prince this hurt.

"And ah, hallucinations aren't unheard of," he added.

Arthur frowned at the thought, but nodded and tried to uncurl a little, tilting his head on the pillow so he could look up at his servant and gesture him to go on. Merlin's hands traced out a section of the sheets and he let them sit there as he plotted.

"Alright... once... upon a time... there was a large kingdom to the far north of anything normal. In this castle lived... the brave Prince Arthur," he started stiffly, fingers curling.

"Who was also very handsome," Arthur added with a grin, losing it as he convulsed inward with another coughing bout that seemed harder than the one before.

He patted out the mattress before finding his servant's hand and squeezed it tight enough to pop his fingers. As it subsided, he seemed to realize what he was doing and pulled back, fingers trembling. Merlin's eyes lost any bit of color they may have held before.

"I... The brave... handsome prince was well loved by the people of his kingdom. Although he could be a... bit of a prick... he was still kinder to them than any previous king had ever been. One day as he was sitting around, his father's army brought back news of a... dragon... attacking the normal villages to the south of them. The King sent out his army, but they all returned injured," he spoke slow as he planned it out, hoping the pacing would lull the prince to sleep.

He paused at a whimper on Arthur's part and looked at him, brow pressing in tight. The agony was still there, embedded underneath every nerve in his features. With a bit of hesitance, he offered his hand. Arthur looked at it with a set brow. When he understood, he looked up at his servant's blue eyes for reassurance before biting his lip.

"One word-" he threatened, moving his hand to set over the paler one.

As he curled his fingers around the pale palm, squeezing enough to offset the pain, Merlin gave a little smile.

"Not one, sire," he promised.

When the blond settled back on the pillow, hand squeezing in a rhythm, the sorcerer thought back to his story.

"The soldiers came back unsuccessful," Arthur reminded him.

"Right. So... a neighboring village reported that the dragon had been seen coming closer. The prince's kingdom grew fearful, so the prince decides to go and take matters into his own hands. To his dismay, any army he may have had was injured. His only companion would be his loyal servant-"

"Who had ears just about as big as the kingdom," Arthur interrupted with a little smile.

Merlin swallowed a smile. "His loyal servant with ears... as big as the kingdom. They got their things together and started on the two day journey to meet the dragon. They stop on the first night to rest. While the prince sleeps, his servant slips off- oh, he can um, speak to dragons."

Arthur stared, but didn't interrupt.

"The servant hated this ability, but he was hoping he could use it to protect the prince. After all, the prince was his closest friend. He couldn't lose him." Merlin noticed the hand in his softening and it gave him an idea, "The servant slips off a safe distance from the camp, to make sure he wouldn't get the prince hurt, and then he beckoned the dragon down with a soft call of..."

Then, with the other's gaze slipping, Merlin murmured the words he knew would help ease the ache in his prince's bones. He' wasn't far into it when he saw the blond move, so he stopped immediately with his heart hammering in his chest.

"Trying to add depth," he lied with a self-conscious grin.

Arthur seemed to buy it, nodding and letting his eyes slide shut again. The weight that had built on his shoulders was knocked off again.

"When the... when the dragon landed, the servant came to understand that he was under the control of an evil sorceress and the only way to stop him would be to stop this witch. But, as the dragon goes on, he tells the servant that... the only way to stop the sorceress would be to have magic of his own. The servant denied it. He pleaded for another way because he... knew how the prince felt about magic, but the dragon goes on to say how the magic could be used to further protect the prince. The servant agrees for his prince's sake and sends the dragon off again with a twin call of..."

He repeated the words and watched the glow course through the prince's veins until he couldn't trace it any further. The trembling seemed to have halted for the most part.

"That next morning, the servant tells the prince that he caught word of how to stop the dragon from a villager from a nearby town. The two set out and together, by sword and magic, they defeat the witch and in turn, the dragon. The kingdom is saved again. When they return, they're celebrated as heroes and have a feast thrown in their honor."

Merlin waited, not moving, until he noticed that Arthur has taken on the throaty breath that came with his unconsciousness. He was asleep. It was risky, but the ebony didn't hesitate for a moment. He repeated the words again, feeling physically drained as he gave his all into fixing what had left his prince broken. A gasp halted him not too far along. Looking up, eyes still a brilliant gold, he was met with a terrified set of blue eyes.

"You're...?" Arthur croaks out, managing to sound both hurt and heartbroken in a single syllable.

The sorcerer feels his heart stop and he pulls back, the magic halting and his eyes taking on the same shape. There's no way he can play this off. He knows this. All he could do was hold the other's eyes, fingers drawn back and tensed up.

"I'm...?" he curled his fingers in his tunic, reduced to prayers now.

Arthur shut his eyes and covered them for a hard breath, chin giving a protesting crease before he put his hands down.

"You've got magic," he murmured.

The two stared at each other and held it, blinking only when they had to. Arthur looked betrayed to an extent and Merlin looked wounded. The pattern broke when Merlin slowly got to his feet, trembling, and made to back for the door.

"Please... I'll just... don't... I'll leave Camelot," he promised, voice as small as he was feeling .

He made it to the door before a broken sigh stopped him. The ebony curled his fingers around the door handle, the prayers serving as his final legs.

"There's... no need for that. We can... we can discuss this when I'm feeling better. In the meantime, as my future... court wizard... Gods, I'll never get used to that... get to healing me again. And tell me a better story."

Merlin's lips broke into a watery grin and he nodded, hiding his mouth behind his palm as he slowly walked back. There was still fear in his eyes, a necessary caution, but it was dwindling.

"I only use it for you," he said quietly.

He retook his seat, looking up at the prince.

"The magic. You're going to be a great king and... someone has to make sure you live that long."

Arthur cracked a little smile, offering his hand out this time. "You know, this means I have something to hold over you."

Merlin took the prince's hand and murmured softly, the gold retaking his eyes. "Of course, sire."

"Now on with that next story."

-F.J. III