This fic was inspired by how much weight Colin Morgan dropped in series 2. Not a one-shot.
Chapter One
Eve of the Winter Feast
Though things on the magical front had quieted down for over two months, Merlin as still working hard. Between assisting Gaius and duties as the king's manservant, the only time he had to himself was while he was asleep. But now he was sleeping beside Gaius because of the ice-cold weather because it was winter time in Camelot and the hearth was perpetually burning in Gaius's chambers. As Merlin did not have a hearth in his connecting chamber, he and his guardian would bunk as close as they could to the fire with as many blankets and pillows as they needed.
This made the nights survivable. The castle was excruciatingly drafty in the winter. Yawning hugely, he awoke with the usual gnawing hunger in his stomach. Blinking his deeply-set blue eyes dozily, Merlin carefully extricated himself out from under their blanket and quietly enchanted more wood to keep the fire going. Merlin was a rather tall man, around an inch taller than the new king himself.
Being thin made him appear taller than he really was. He had snowy pale skin and short black hair. For breakfast, Merlin had a slice of bread, cold meat, and cheese drunk down with ale.
He was cramming cheese into his mouth when Gaius limped over to him.
"Is that all you're having?" the court physician asked of Merlin.
Merlin answered with his mouth full, "It's plenty enough for me, Gaius."
"You're thinner than the poorest lot in Camelot." Gaius barked at him. "All those clothes aren't going to be enough to keep you alive in this ghastly weather. It's getting out of hand. I am concerned for you."
It was not unusual for Merlin to receive comments from folks around Camelot about his appearance. Merlin had noticed he was underweight as of late judging by how his clothes hung off him. Merlin was running out of shirts to layer beneath his jacket but this extra padding seemed to only draw more attention to him. Today, Merlin was decked out in a woolen hat, mittens, wool coat, and two layers of linen undergarments. His legs were always the coldest and his knobby knees would knock together while he shivered.
The strenuous labor that was required to scrub the floor, polish armor, carry heavy equipment, and running around after King Arthur was enough to keep him as skinny as he was. It did not give him bulky muscles like Arthur. But, it made him stronger than he appeared.
"I have needed to poke new holes in my belt in the opposite direction Arthur's is going," Merlin joked, trying to make Gaius smile. "Don't be so concerned for me." Merlin grinned crookedly; in doing so, his cheeks were still hollow. "I'm fine."
Gaius scoffed, "Morgana won't need a spell to cast at you the next time you two row. All she'll need to do is enchant a gust of wind to snap you in two. Eat."
"I have!" Merlin chuckled uneasily, heading for the door. "I've got to get to work. I'll see you for supper, Gaius."
The castle was bustling with preparing for the annual winter feast tomorrow night. It has been preparing for the past month. In order to have more time to himself at night, Merlin would power through the day without his dinner (the 11 a.m. meal). He would eat whenever he could steal the chance. His nonstop responsibilities as the king's head manservant had not slowed down over his many years of employment.
If there was time to eat, there was time to clean. At the rate he has been performing, he was able to return to Gaius by 5 o'clock on most days. In the middle of the day, every day, the king was presented with a fantastic supper. Everything laid out on the table in Arthur's chambers was highly seasoned and the sauces were very rich. Merlin's mouth watered particularly today. After a month of his inadequate diet, his body was just now started to struggle.
The beef, pork, and mutton were calling out to him. The irresistible aroma of cinnamon, sugar, ginger, and cloves clouded his brain. It was much warmer in Arthur's chambers than in Gaius's. He had repaired Arthur's shield, cleaned his boots, sharpened his sword, and polished his chainmail over the last few hours. Without being able to use magic, this has been very taxing on his arms.
Merlin doubted he could move them for much longer which was not good as he had several hours to go before his shift was over. Merlin carried Arthur's voiders, hauberk, and helmet over to the burning hearth and figured he did not need all these layers of clothes for now.
"Just how many layers have you got on, Merlin?" Arthur chuckled disbelievingly as Merlin removed layer after layer after layer.
"I get cold sometimes." Merlin replied sheepishly.
Arthur was a tall brawny man with large blue eyes, fair skin, endearingly-crooked teeth, pouty lips, and shiny blond hair. It was a bit painful to have to explain to the king, his oldest friend, about the differences in their lifestyles. Arthur was always assured comfort and security even when they went on quests together. Merlin on the other hand, not so much.
"You wouldn't be cold if you had a bit of fat to you." Arthur pointed out.
Merlin set his jaw, "I'll get right on that, Arthur."
Arthur's brows furrowed with concern when Merlin winced a few times as he lowered to the ground. With difficulty, Merlin set about polishing these pieces of armor. He was glad he could partially rest for this chore, sitting on his coat on the floor to pad his boney buttocks. If he had been standing, he might have fainted. The way he had one leg out at an odd angle, his loose trousers were tightened and revealed just how boney his long legs had grown.
"You used to." Arthur commented.
Merlin did not look up, mumbling, "Sorry?"
"Be bigger." Arthur clarified. "You used to be bigger."
Merlin chuckled, "On the contrary, I've grown two inches taller since I arrived in Camelot."
The comments were starting to get to him. He couldn't tell himself people were teasing him anymore. But, he couldn't think of how to solve the situation. He was doing the best he could to be there for everyone in Camelot. Unintentionally, his own health fell to the wayside.
After a while of silence, Merlin realized that he was breathing harder than normal. He grimaced at how the muscles of his arms were aching and burning. He was needing to exert more energy to complete tasks he didn't used to break a sweat over. Merlin was trying not to fantasize about what he would eat if he were in Arthur's place when something hit him in the shoulder. It was a mutton chop.
Thinking it must have fallen from Arthur's table, Merlin picked it up and stretched to place it back. He was confused when he realized just how far he was sitting from the table and he met Arthur's watchful gaze.
"Did you throw this at me?" Merlin asked Arthur indignantly.
"Eat it." Arthur encouraged kindly but with the slight edge Merlin often associated with an order.
Merlin narrowed his eyes and got to his feet, shaking his head. He brushed the chop on his neckerchief, exposing his jutting collarbones to the king. He placed the mutton chop back with the others on the silver plate.
"I'm not your hound, Arthur. I've got to get this polishing done now or else I'll be doing it through supper." Merlin said sternly, returning to his place on the hearth. "I've got to get a half-way-decent night's sleep to finish preparing for your feast tomorrow. It's got to look perfect for your guests."
Arthur gaped, "You used to be entertaining. What happened to our back and forth bantering I so look forward to?"
Merlin polished away, "Maybe I've grown two inches out of it."
With his eyes on the armor, Merlin could not see how Arthur was appraising him so critically. This was the first time Arthur has shown concern for Merlin's thinness out loud. Indeed, Merlin used to have the energy to be himself throughout the day. Nowadays, Merlin was in his best mood whenever he got to eat and at his worst when he was working - which was more often than the former. His heart was pumping harder than it had been before he spoke to Arthur.
Placing that mutton chop back on the king's table had been a challenge. The smell of it on his shoulder and neckerchief was torture and his stomach finally betrayed him.
Glugg-rr-glugg-rr-glugg
Arthur was pitying him, "Merlin, taking time out to eat one thing cannot possibly put that much of a dent -"
"You would not know, Arthur." Merlin interrupted him. "You've never polished armor before."
"Damn you!" Arthur pushed his chair back harshly and brought with him a clean mutton chop, "Your king orders you to eat this mutton chop or he'll have you put in the stocks. See how much that'll put a dent in your workday."
Arthur was never smooth when expressing concern. Merlin was thoroughly irritated.
He fixed Arthur with a glare, "What do you want from me? I'm doing the best that I can."
"Well I can do with a little worse from you," Arthur said, holding out the mutton chop before Merlin's nose.
It had been about five hours since Merlin had breakfast. Before he knew it, Merlin pounced on that mutton chop. Ripping it out of Arthur's hand and within a matter of seconds, he had inhaled everything and only chomping down hard on the bone let Merlin know that there was nothing left to eat. Arthur looked thoroughly unnerved by the display.
"You ate like a starving beggar." Arthur frowned, "Are you alright, Merlin?"
Groaning and rolling his eyes, Merlin dried his hands on his shirt and set about finishing his polishing. After that, Merlin was not pestered by Arthur again that day. But, little did he know that this incident had left an impression on the king ... his best friend.
!*!
While Merlin was mucking out the royal stables as his last chore, Arthur snuck away to the court physician's chambers. He could smell herring and fruit cooking. Was that an apple pie he smelled?
"Sire!" Gaius greeted him at his knock at the door, "What a surprise. Is something wrong with Merlin?"
Upon the door opening, Arthur was bemused to see the tiny feast laid out on the picnic table before the roaring hearth. As the midday dinner was traditionally largest meal of the day, Arthur found their supper rather unusual. Indeed there was an apple pie, herring, and cooked fruit as well as leafy greens. There was a bed moved off to the corner with an absurd amount of blankets and pillows piled up on it. He wondered if that was where these two men slept.
"It's funny that you ask." Arthur cleared his throat and stepped inside, "I've come to express some concerns - no - complaints about that certain good-for-nothing manservant of mine."
The rude remarks were taken in an adoring sort of manner.
"So soon after the last?" Gaius teased.
Arthur grinned, "Unfortunately. I am under the suspicion that Merlin is not taking care of himself ... or ill at least." He watched Gaius for signs of agreement, "He's pale and he's thin and I can't help but notice that he's getting worse." He cleared his throat awkwardly and added quickly, "His growling stomach is distracting. That's how it's not unnoticeable. Not that he looks like he's skin and bones."
Raising the subject of an employee's health was unusual but not unexpected for the new king of Camelot. Despite appearances and excuses, it was obvious how he favored Merlin. Gaius gazed down at the ground thoughtfully.
"Merlin told me once that he lived off a diet of porridge, peas, and beans in Ealdor ... How much he's grateful that has improved since he moved to Camelot." He met the king's gaze, "Merlin may weigh half that of a knight but he can frequently eat twice as much at supper. That much I can assure you, sire."
But, Arthur could see through Gaius. He sensed that Gaius was just as bothered by the subject as Arthur felt.
"If that's true, then why on earth does he look like -"
Though Arthur's own cheeks were already hollow themselves, he sucked them in further for his impression of Merlin. Gaius was amused by it.
"It can be difficult to judge one's health by appearance alone." Gaius chuckled, "Merlin's a skinny lad. But, rest assured that he is fit for work."
Arthur doubted that Merlin was fit to stand. He half-expected to find him dead in the stable. It was reassuring enough that he saw the over-plentiful supper waiting for his sick friend.
Arthur sighed, "Thank you for your consultation, Gaius."
"Anytime, Sire." Gaius bowed.
Only when the door was closed did Gaius's face fall into despair. It must be worse than he had thought if the king of Camelot was going to the trouble to raise concerns. Merlin was getting worse. Gaius had to gather his composure when the door banged open not fifteen minutes later. Merlin had returned from the stables.
"I won't be having any of your excuses tonight." Gaius said before Merlin could get out a word. "You will sit at this table and eat. I don't care if you smell like horse dung."
"... I do."
"That sounds like an excuse to me. Sit!" Gaius drove Merlin over to the table and pushed him down onto the bench forcefully. "Eat!"
Merlin frowned wide-eyed at his guardian, "What's gotten into you?!"
Shoving Merlin's helping in front of him, Gaius sat opposite him. Merlin tucked in and after a minute or two of lingering awkwardness, he ate with his usual gusto. He ate till he was fit to burst and went to bed exhausted.
