1) Arthur doesn't realize that Merlin always tastes his food beforehand and has been poisoned multiple times until he collapses from a slow acting one in Arthur's presence.
Opening his Eyes
Warning/s: Bit of medical stuff but no gore
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin
A/N: Hi guys. This is a one-shot that I wrote for my hundredth reviewer of 'A Hidden Past', MotherFunker who chose this out of a list of suggestions. This doesn't really have a time frame but Morgana isn't mentioned, Balinor has happened and Gwen and Arthur aren't together. Also, I am going to trial an idea on my bio, where I will post how many words I have written for the next chapter of each of my stories so you guys know roughly how long it will be until the next chapter is posted. Drop me a review of what you think of this idea. Thank you!
Enjoy!
Many thanks to Cordelia Rose who betaed this!
It was an ordinary day in Arthur's eyes: breakfast, training with the knights, council meetings and so on and so forth. He had endured the overly cheery and overly late wake-up call from his manservant; taken a lecture from his father for being late to the morning council meeting and taken it out on the straw dummies during training. Perhaps if he hadn't have been so worked up about the nearing visit of some major lords from the North he would have noticed the signs. However, none of his excuses mattered any more, not when he was staring at the pale, limp body of his too thin manservant lying motionless on a bed in front of him; possibly dying because he might have noticed too late.
Merlin shot out of bed so violently, his reaction was so forceful that it looked like he had been struck by lightning. . Unfortunately, his thin blanket wanted very much to keep hold of the young man and so wound itself around his waist in a vice-like hold, helpfully pinning his arms to his sides. This made it particularly hard for Merlin to slow down after jumping out of bed so quickly and with a muffled crash he landed on the floor in a tangle of long limbs and bed clothes. Gaius poked his head around the door and shook it with an amused gleam in his eyes.
"Merlin, if you're not quick you are going to be late, my boy," he chuckled, watching Merlin attempt to untangle himself but ending up looking like he was trying to wrestle some kind of sheet snake. Finally managing to release himself from the bed clothes prison, Merlin grabbed the nearest clean set of clothes and hurriedly changed, hopping out of his room whilst in the process of putting a boot on. Gaius didn't have to look up to know what was going to happen and what happened most mornings when Merlin woke up late. Merlin's foot caught on his undone bootlaces and he was sent sprawling to the floor for the second time that morning (and undoubtedly not the last). Groaning, Merlin heaved himself off the stone floor and grabbed a crusty bread roll and a small lump of cheese on his way past the table.
"I should be back in time to collect some of those herbs you need after lunch," he called over his shoulder as he sped out of the door. Stuffing the roll and cheese in his mouth, Merlin wolfed them down as he carried on down the corridor at top speed. He passed Gwen as he neared the entrance to the servant's section of the castle where the laundry rooms and kitchens were. She only needed one look at his panicked expression and the general rumpled state of him to know that he was running late. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she headed off to deliver the armful of sheets she held.
"Hi, Gwen. I hope you're well, I'm just off to get the prat his breakfast!" Merlin yelled as he almost collided with her. She opened her mouth to reply but found that he had already disappeared down a stairwell. The fond smile on her face disappeared as she remembered the last few times he had gone to get Arthur his breakfast; she shuddered, trying to forget the memory.
Merlin had reached the kitchen by now and breathed in deeply, inhaling the heavenly smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling bacon. The kitchen was alive with activity; young maids were stirring huge vats of porridge with wooden spoons, whilst others were frantically chopping meats and vegetables of all descriptions. In the centre of the organized chaos stood a stern looking woman with her hair pulled back in a floury bun and her arms folded in front of her. Merlin skidded to a halt in front of her, breathing hard from the sprint to the kitchens. The head cook wiped her hands on the smudged apron tied around her waist and her dimpled face broke out in a serious expression.
"Now, young man you be careful, I don't want you running off before you have waited the proper amount of time," she said, handing the plate of food over but keeping a firm hold on his arm to stop him disappearing.
"But if I wait the full time, I'm going to get to Arthur's rooms late, again," Merlin replied exasperated, carefully raising the plate to his nose and taking a deep breath. The delicious scents of cooked meat, fine cheese and white bread filled his nostrils. All clear. He inspected the individual pieces of food and found nothing amiss. Then he tore small sections of each piece off and started eating them, next to him the head cook held her breath; she had seen the young man she was so fond of begin to choke and collapse before, and didn't want to ever see it again. Merlin chewed the small pieces of fine food before swallowing and took a small sip from the jug of wine as well. He waited, not noticing that the whole kitchen had gone quiet in tense anticipation. They like the head cook had all witnessed at some point the terrible consequences of Merlin's loyalty to the prince. Recently, there had been three cases in which one of them had been sent running to fetch Gaius.
Unlike the king who had an official food taster, brought in from far to the East where they had discovered a method of becoming immune to certain poisons. The prince had a taster boy. However a few months back, the poor lad who tasted the food had eaten a rather nasty dose of poison and collapsed in front of Merlin. The kind hearted manservant had immediately sent for Gaius and found the boy a different job in the castle. Unbeknownst to Arthur, Merlin had taken up the lad's role as food taster.
After five nervous minutes, Merlin smiled at the head cook.
"I feel fine! Can I go now," he whined, shifting from foot to foot in his anxiousness to get to Arthur.
The cook scrutinised Merlin once more and reluctantly nodded her approval."You be sure to go straight to Gaius if you start to feel ill though," she called after his rapidly disappearing form.
"I will," came his shout over the noise of the kitchen staff resuming their jobs. The head cook hoped that he would as she had become rather protective of the boy, the previous tasting lad having been her nephew.
Arthur was already up, dressed and stomach growling in its impatience for food. His head snapped up as he heard rapidly approaching footsteps from outside; nobody else made quite so much noise as Merlin did when he ran. Arthur picked up an empty goblet in preparation, testing the weight of it as Merlin gingerly opened the door. His messy raven black hair appeared first, peaking around the edge of the door. Slowly, the rest of Merlin's face materialised, eyes searching for where the predicted projectile would come at him from. He had been late so many times that he tried to anticipate what and when Arthur would throw at him. Unfortunately, Arthur prided himself on being unpredictable and had hidden himself behind the dressing screen. He watched through the gaps as Merlin gingerly crept into the room, still scanning every corner of the room for his master. Arthur waited until his manservant placed the plate of food and jug of wine on the table before lobbing the glass over the screen. It did a perfect double somersault before landing on the crown of Merlin's head. With a startled yelp, Merlin shot backwards and very nearly tripped over a chair in his desperation to get away from the projectile. He glared at Arthur, who emerged from behind the screen, a victorious smirk on his face.
"You are so immature, Arthur!" Merlin complained, rubbing his head where the goblet had hit him. Arthur just laughed and sat down in a chair by his table, tearing off a section of the bread to eat. He had just raised it to his mouth to eat when a messenger burst into the room.
"I'm sorry to interrupt milord but the king urgently requests your presence in the council chambers," the messenger said, pausing to catch his breath and bowing. Arthur looked longingly at the plate of food before him and sighed, getting up from his chair. He turned to Merlin, who had stopped folding the crumpled bedsheets in front of him as soon as the messenger had entered.
"As you were so late this morning, Merlin, I had enough time to write a list of all the chores I want you to do today. Have fun!" Arthur said with another pleased smirk before striding out of the room, the messenger close on his heels. Merlin groaned and resignedly walked over to Arthur's desk where he spotted a piece of parchment on it with his name in bold letters at the top. One quick scan of the document revealed, much to Merlin's horror, a selection of the most time-consuming and laborious jobs Arthur could give him. He silently cursed his master and proceeded to start working.
Three exhausting hours later, Merlin trudged into Arthur's rooms from the kennels where he had spent the better part of an hour making sure that all Arthur's hounds were exercised, fed and their kennels cleaned out even though it wasn't technically part of his jobs. To make it worse, though, before that he had done all of his usual tasks like tidying the prat's room and polished every single piece of Arthur's armour, including his ceremonial stuff. He shut the door behind him and took a sniff of his clothes, they stunk like dogs and polish and sweat (not a nice combination).
Merlin pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and almost crumpled to the floor as a bout of severe nausea crashed into him. His head spun and for one terrifying moment he thought he was going to pass out but almost as soon as it had appeared, it disappeared, leaving Merlin hunched over and panting. Slowly, Merlin straightened and pressed a hand to his forehead where a dull throbbing had started up. Maybe he had gotten up from the wall too quickly, having spent most of his time bent over cleaning, he thought. He often got headaches as well, either when he had worked too hard on too little food or sleep. Maybe it was just going to be one of those days.
He unfolded the slightly crumpled piece of paper with his list of jobs on and mentally ticked off the things he had done. The only thing left was… to clean underneath Arthur's bed. Merlin audibly groaned, causing Gwen who had been walking past the doorway to pause. She listened only to her a list of muttered curses drift through the walls and a dull thudding noise. Intrigued and slightly worried, she opened the door to find Merlin gently banging his head against the wall.
"Merlin, are you alright?" she asked, noting the almost pained look on his face. Merlin started and looked up at her.
"The prat wants me to clean under his bed! Under his bed, Gwen. There could be anything under there," Merlin grumbled, ceasing his head banging when it made the pulsing in his forehead more painful.
Gwen chuckled lightly, "Ouch, let me guess is this your punishment for being late again."
Merlin nodded and handed her the piece of parchment, sending a wave of unpleasant odours in her direction. She scrunched up her nose in disgust.
"You should tell him why so he doesn't keep punishing you like this. You don't get any credit for basically saving his life every time you taste his food. It's not fair on you, Merlin," Gwen implored, handing back the paper. Merlin resisted the urge to tell her that she had no idea how many times he had saved Arthur's life without his knowledge.
"You know that he would make me stop and go to the king for another food tasting boy. I don't want to have to see another case like John's ever again. They are too young to have to risk their lives like that," Merlin responded, shuddering as he remembered the morning when he had been helping Gaius when the head cook had rushed in with John in her hands. The poor lad had almost died if he hadn't used a tiny bit of magic to increase the potency of Gaius' antidote. Gwen was clearly remembering the incident as well, her face had paled slightly and she took a deep breath before responding.
"Maybe, Arthur could campaign the king to get a taster like his, who's immune to those poisons," she suggested but Merlin shook her head.
"The king already tried but the deal he made with that foreign king only included tasters for the king and queen of Camelot, not their children. It's a tradition apparently in their country," Merlin said, remembering what Gaius had told him when he had asked.
"Well I think it's a stupid tradition," Gwen announced. "I've got to go though, see you later, Merlin," she said with a little wave before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Trying not to drag his feet, Merlin shuffled over to Arthur's four poster bed and crouched down. He lifted the overhanging material to reveal the dark strip under the bed. Muttering a spell under his breath, he sent a tiny glowing orb of light into the abyss and waited for it to light up the space. The light of the sphere exposed several of Arthur's socks, a few dozen other articles of clothing (no doubt all requiring a wash), some slightly dented goblets having rolled there after being used to throw at Merlin, a mouldy apple sat in on corner and directly beneath where the pillows would be above sat a sheaf of papers. Grabbing a broom that he had left propped up against the wall earlier, Merlin used the end to manoeuvre the sheaf of papers out into the light. The pile was neatly tied with a red ribbon and on closer inspection appeared to be a collection of letters. Completely ignoring any notion he had of personal privacy, Merlin opened the first one and proceeded to burst out laughing. It was a love letter. To be more specific it was a love letter addressed to Sophia, the Sidhe in disguise who had enchanted Arthur with a love spell. Merlin assumed that all of the letters were of similar content, presumably written in a fit of passion by Arthur. He tucked the letters away in a pocket for later entertainment and went to stand up only to crash to his knees as another sickening bout of nausea swept through him. He sank to the floor and buried his head in his arms to attempt to stop the world around him from spinning. When the nausea finally receded he was left with an aching in the pit of his stomach that was starting to spread to the rest of his body. Blaming the lack of breakfast, Merlin let himself slump against the side of the bed. Just a few minutes, he told himself, letting his weary muscles relax and his eyes droop.
This was how Arthur found him an hour later, mouth slightly open and snoring quietly. The prince knew that Merlin wasn't just his manservant, he was his friend; the first person to see past the fact that he was royalty and actually like him for who he was. Grinning, Arthur wished he could keep this moment frozen in a painting; clearly somebody had been out in the tavern a little too late last night. Merlin always acted like he was the most carefree individual in the world but Arthur always found himself thinking that Merlin seemed to have a weight on his shoulders that appeared every so often in the weary look in his eyes when Merlin thought he wasn't looking. When the prince moved further into the room, deciding to read through some documents and allow Merlin some rest, he noted that his manservant was significantly paler than usual. There was sweat beaded on his brow but he was shivering slightly. Perhaps Arthur thought, he had been a bit excessive with his list of jobs but it was the idiot's own fault for spending so much time in the tavern. He selected the document on the top of the neatly stacked and organised pile (no doubt Merlin's doing) and started to read through it. The room was peaceful with only the faint buzz of the usual castle activity filtering through the walls and the rhythmic scratching of his quill on paper. That was until a deep rumble gurgled through the room, causing Merlin to shoot upright and Arthur to flush red with embarrassment.
"W-what's going on?" Merlin exclaimed, spinning round to determine the source of the noise. Merlin head and stomach began to make themselves aware to him again as they pulsed angrily at his sudden movements. He resisted the urge to double over in pain and instead tottered over to Arthur, whose cheeks were still flaming. Merlin may have been still affected by the confusing blanket of sleep but even he could put two and two together.
"Was that your stomach, sire?" Merlin asked, his voice filled with restrained laughter. Arthur blushed even more furiously as his manservant grinned at him.
"No, of course it wasn't, Merlin. It was a cart outside, anyway have you completed that list of chores I gave you?" Arthur replied, rapidly changing the subject, something that was not lost on Merlin.
"Most of them, sire. Perhaps you would like your lunch brought up though," Merlin answered cheekily and knowing full well what the noise had been now as Arthur's cheeks continued to burn.
"Yes, I do require my lunch and after that I want you to help me with training this afternoon," Arthur smirked, watching Merlin's face drop at the prospect of being pummelled by the knights.
Merlin sighed and turned on his heel to walk out of the room, desperately wanting to wipe Arthur's victorious smile of his face."I'll ask the cook to put extra on your plate for lunch then as you are so hungry today," he called over his shoulder, succeeding in wiping the smile of Arthur's face but earning him a goblet in the stomach. He contained the cry of pain, which threatened to burst out as the goblet struck him exactly where his stomach was aching. He shut the door and let the wince show on his face, as he placed a hand to his stomach, heading for the kitchens. His whole body felt like one giant bruise, his muscles felt shaky like he had just run for several miles and his chest felt like an iron band was slowly crushing it. He would go see Gaius after delivering Arthur's meal, Merlin decided, reaching the doors to the kitchen. His 'I'm-perfectly-fine' smile easily slipping onto his face as he passed through the hubbub of kitchen staff to where Arthur's lunch was laid out. He took the plate of food and jug of wine to a quiet, shaded corner of the kitchen and proceeded to run through his usual tasting routine. He took a small sip of the wine and few scraps of each piece of food, making sure that he left no evidence that Arthur would notice of his tasting. He waited. As did several of the senior kitchen staff, who had noticed Merlin's entrance, most had been too caught up in their tasks to see the raven-haired servant amongst them. His head was still pounding and his body still felt like it was gradually being drained of its strength but nothing had gotten worse. He stepped out from his corner and exited the kitchen, much to the relief of the watching staff.
It was only when he rounded the bend leading to Arthur's room that he knew something was wrong, his vision blurred and he almost dropped the tray as a wave of excruciating pain washed over him. His whole being felt like it was being set on fire. Desperate for something to keep him upright, as his world lost focus, Merlin crashed into the wall and let it support his agonised body. There was so much pain that he couldn't cry out or even move until it receded. Gradually, his vision returned and the pain dulled down to a manageable level. Merlin knew what it was now, it was magical exhaustion. Something Gaius had only recently found out about after Merlin had collapsed a few weeks ago after a particularly complicated set of spells. Merlin knew that he should have told Gaius that he had been out last night fighting a pack of Wyverns and now he was experiencing magical exhaustion. He unsteadily pushed himself off the wall and continued on to Arthur's chambers in the hopes that he could convince his master to let him see Gaius before training. He nudged the door open and quickly rushed over to the table, depositing the plate and filling the goblet as fast as he could. The pain was beginning to rear its ugly head and Merlin knew that he couldn't let Arthur see him like this. He practically sprinted for Arthur's desk, where he could conceal his expressions from his master. Arthur sat himself down in front of the food in surprise at Merlin's haste; he reached for a slice of meat when a small whimper caught his attention. He dropped the meat and stood up, walking over to where Merlin was. His manservant was hunched over his desk, his face scrunched up in pain and his breathing ragged.
Merlin gripped the desk with both hands as wave after wave of pain tried to drag him down into the depths of unconsciousness, his knuckles were bone white and he knew that he had to get out Arthur's chambers now. He raised his head to spot the best path of escape and came face to face with Arthur. The prince's worried gaze swept over his manservant, searching for any physical wounds that would cause his servant to look so pained.
"Merlin, are you injured?" Arthur asked, watching as Merlin shakily straightened, fisting his hands by his sides.
"I'm… j-just a little t-tired," Merlin ground out, attempting a step forward but feeling his legs begin to quiver. He crashed to floor and only Arthur's quick reflexes saved him from smacking his head against the stone floor.
"Merlin! Merlin?" Arthur called out, cradling his friend in his arms. Merlin didn't respond, he could barely keep his eyes open and his throat felt like it was getting smaller and smaller. He began to choke and claw at it, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think straight. Arthur grabbed his manservant's arms, trying to stop him from tearing how own throat out. A horrible feeling began to sweep through Arthur, he had been here before: the night of the feast with King Bayard when Merlin had drunk the poison.
"Guards! Guards!" Arthur shouted, lifting his writhing manservant up off the ground. The two guards outside rushed into the room, swords drawn.
"Seal this room, let nobody enter it unless it is me, the king or Gaius. Make sure nobody touches the food, it is poisoned," he instructed, running towards the open door. Merlin cried out as he was jolted; sweat dripping down his face as he tried to escape the pain. Arthur could hear how hard it was for Merlin to breathe and each time he did manage to draw breath, the next was further apart. He sprinted down the corridor, almost colliding with Gwen as he headed for Gaius' chambers. The maidservant took one look at the semi-unconscious manservant in Arthur's arms and began to follow Arthur. The pair burst into Gaius' chambers, where the elderly physician had been mixing a few potions he had been short on. He looked up sharply and froze, his eyes focused on Merlin's shaking form in Arthur's arms and he went into full medical mode.
"Place him on the bed and somebody tell me what happened," Gaius instructed, clearing the patient's bed for Arthur to lay Merlin on. As soon as Merlin was released from Arthur's grip, he curled in on himself and his hands went to his throat again.
"He was acting oddly when he brought me my lunch and then I went to check on him and he seemed in so much pain, Gaius. I asked him what was wrong and he just collapsed, clawing at his throat," Arthur explained, watching Merlin's shuddering form worriedly. "I think it was poison," he finally whispered and both Gaius and Gwen's heads shot up from where they were examining Merlin.
"Not again," Gaius murmured, placing a cooling cloth on Merlin's forehead and holding it there as Merlin tried to buck away from the icy coldness, locked away in a never-ending cycle of fire and pain. Gwen and Gaius shared a look and the maidservant rushed out of the room. Gaius quickly searched through his shelves of potions and remedies before selecting a bottle of brown sludge.
"Help me hold him, sire. This will make him expel his stomach contents in the hopes that the poison will also be expelled," Gaius explained, grabbing a bucket and placing it on the floor by Merlin's head. Arthur gripped Merlin's shoulders while Gaius tipped his head back and dripped the potion down his throat. Almost immediately Merlin began to retch and Arthur got Merlin's head over the bucket. Merlin groaned as he vomited the food he had tasted from Arthur's plate for lunch and breakfast.
Gwen returned with the head cook close on her heels. The stout lady gasped as she witnessed the condition Merlin was in.
"Oh gods, not again," she cried rushing to Merlin's side and holding his limp, clammy hand. Arthur reeled back: this was the second time someone had said 'not again' and he knew that the head cook hadn't been around for the Morteous flower incident. Had this happened before without his knowledge? Arthur moved aside to let Gwen take his position as he sank onto a nearby stool, watching the trio work in such an efficient way that it looked like they had been practicing.
Merlin had stopped being sick and was lying limply against the pillows, eyes rolling underneath their lids. The manservant gasped and shuddered as no doubt his stomach cramped painfully from the poison's effects.
"Mary, I need you to fetch the plate of food from Arthur's chambers and bring it here," Gaius commanded, sending the large woman flying out of the door at a speed Arthur didn't think she was capable of. "Gwen, work on keeping his fever down. I can't do anything else until I know what poison was used," Gaius said, handing her the cooling cloth and bucket of clean water, while he disposed of the other bucket. Gwen tenderly patted Merlin's face down with the cloth, trying to cleanse the skin of the sweat. Arthur felt completely useless; everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do while he was left floundering, trying to make sense of the situation. Gaius brushed past him; arms full of vials and containers of powder, the physician settled by Merlin's side and placed his ear to his Ward's chest.
"His heartbeat is irregular; he is going to need treatment soon or it's going to get worse," he mumbled mainly to himself.
Mary re-entered the room, carrying his untouched breakfast and lunch trays as well as the jugs of wine.
"Here, I got them just before they were headed for the dogs," she panted, her cheeks flushed red from running and her breaths matching Merlin's. Gaius took the plates and jugs with a worried smile, placing them on his workbench. He picked up a bottle with a dropper and dripped a few drops of liquid into the wine that he would have drunk for breakfast. Arthur stood from where he had been sitting and watched as the purple liquid began to change colour to an inky black. The physician's frown deepened and he repeated the action onto the food this time, also having the same colour change. He moved to test Arthur's lunch but surprisingly the food and wine didn't change at all.
"The food and wine is laced with a mixture of hemlock and a kind of fermented wood," Gaius muttered, setting the dropper aside and heaving a thick, leather bound book from a shelf. He skimmed through the ancient pages until he reached the one titled 'Hemlock', just as Merlin gave out a cry of pain, his legs seizing. Gwen grabbed his shoulders, trying to stop him from bucking out of the bed. Arthur rushed over and helped her hold his manservant steady; he could feel the muscles in Merlin's legs spasm fitfully, no doubt causing Merlin's pained outburst.
"Gwen, fetch the Hemlock bane, I showed you where it is kept last time. I need to get it in to him quickly or the Hemlock could paralyze him," Gaius ordered, sending Gwen flying towards a glass cabinet filled with bottles of all sizes. She grabbed one and handed it over to Gaius, who pulled out the stopper.
"Lift his head, sire," he said to Arthur, moving between Gwen and the prince. Arthur lifted Merlin's head off the pillow and Gaius carefully dribbled the mixture into Merlin's mouth, massaging his throat to make him swallow. Merlin gagged once but swallowed the foul concoction. The manservant's breathing was beginning to get more and more laboured though and Arthur could hear each breath rattle out of his lungs.
"Gaius, he's burning up and his breathing is getting worse," Gwen called, still mopping Merlin's brow with the cooling cloth. Gaius returned to his ward's side, this time with a smouldering incense stick, which was releasing sweet smelling smoke. He held it under Merlin's nose, allowing his ward to breathe in the healing fumes. Almost immediately, Merlin began to cough and splutter, arching off the bed as his harsh, rasping coughs increased in strength. After one particularly severe cough, a thick, black oily substance ran out of the corner of his mouth. Gaius sighed and grabbed a rag to wipe the liquid away. Merlin soon began to hack up more and more of the substance but his breathing was still weak and shallow; his muscles still trembled as spasms rocked through them.
"Gaius, why aren't the potions taking effect by now?" Gwen whispered, pausing her task to make eye contact with the elderly physician.
"This particular mixture of poison's symptoms only appear a few hours after consumption when the poison has integrated with the victim's nervous system. It will take longer for the potions to flush it out the poison if it has fully integrated," Gaius explained sadly, watching Merlin buck and groan in agony as the poison attacked his muscles. Gwen gave out a little half sob at the new information and Arthur felt himself putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder as she wept.
"He will pull through, Gwen. He has too many chores left undone not to," Arthur joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. She gave a breathy laugh and sniffed, trying to regain composure.
"He can't die, he just can't…" she whimpered, pulling a handkerchief from out of her dress pocket and wiping her eyes.
Merlin stopped moving, he froze as if the time around him had stopped. Gaius shot out of where he had been sitting and quickly placed his head to Merlin's chest. He could faintly hear a heartbeat but it was weak and irregular. However, he could no longer hear the breaths rattling in and out of Merlin's lungs.
"Mary, take Gwen," Gaius called out to the head cook, who looked on the verge of tears herself. She snapped into action and gently manoeuvred Gwen away from Merlin's bedside, hugging her tightly to her chest.
"Arthur, help me sit him up," Gaius ordered, dropping all formalities in his desperation to save his ward. Arthur placed a hand under Merlin's back and lifted him into a sitting position, still keeping his supporting arm there. Gaius placed the bucket under Merlin's mouth, on his lap, and moved over to where Arthur was holding the limp man up. He placed the heel of his hand at the top of Merlin's back and thumped him, much to Arthur's shock. Again and again, the elderly man repeated this action until a large glob of the foul black liquid shot out of Merlin's mouth into the bucket. The manservant gasped and drew in a huge gulp of air.
It had been almost half an hour after Merlin had taken his first unhindered breath when Arthur sank into a chair by his manservant's bed. Gwen had disappeared to dispose of the soiled rags and poisoned food. Mary was checking on the kitchen to make sure that none of the junior maids had burnt the place to the ground. Finally, Gaius was sitting at his table, mixing some ingredients together to make a fever reducing potion. The poison may have left Merlin's system but the consequences of its presence still remained: the poison had damaged the inside of Merlin's throat and caused serious damage to his muscles, making it highly unlikely that the man would be able to speak or move when he awoke. His fever had also lowered but not enough for Gaius' liking. In the near silence, Arthur began to truly contemplate the events of the poisoning as there were several things that struck him as odd. The first was that Merlin must have had to either eaten food from the same batch his had been taking from, which was highly unlikely due to their different ranks or have eaten some of Arthur's food off the plate. Now, he knew that Merlin was no thief, so why would he have taken some of Arthur's food? Secondly, both the head cook and Gaius had said 'not again', which would mean this had happened before without his knowledge. Arthur wanted answers and he wanted them now.
"Gaius, can somebody please explain how Merlin ended up ingesting poison clearly meant for me, and I want the truth, please," Arthur said, calmly but still with as much authority as he could muster.
"I think we had better wait for Gwen and Mary to return before I answer that question, sire," Gaius replied, pausing his mixing to look at Arthur. Almost on cue, the two females walked in, both sporting expressions of worry and relief. They quietly slipped into the two empty seats on the opposite side of the table to Gaius, concerned at the silence between the two.
"Gaius?" Arthur prompted, impatient know the truth behind the matter. "Has this happened before?" he continued.
"Yes," Gaius finally answered, causing Gwen and Mary to both sigh in understanding.
"How many times?" Arthur ground out, dreading the answer.
"Eight, that I know about but I think it may be more," Gaius said quietly and Arthur froze, turning his head to rest his gaze on the sleeping face of his manservant. Eight times. It made his blood run cold that he had missed this fact.
"How come I wasn't informed of this fact?" Arthur asked sharply, anger beginning to build at their decision to not tell him.
"You would have taken action, causing somebody else's life to be put at risk. Merlin didn't want that," Gaius said smoothly, dancing around the truth.
"Gaius, please, I want a straight answer. I don't care if he's been stealing my food because he's hungry," Arthur argued, immediately wishing he could take back his words as he heard the accusation posed in them.
"Arthur! If you think for one second that Merlin would steal your food if he was hungry, then all the work he has done to make you less arrogant has clearly not worked! He would starve rather than eat your food! In fact, I'm pretty sure he has starved rather than eat your food, you… you imbecile. That 'idiot', as you call him, has been tasting your food so that you don't get poisoned! Not because he's hungry," Gwen burst out angrily, her normally docile eyes flashed with anger and she stood up, storming out of the room before anyone could stop her. Arthur sat there stunned as the door to the chambers slammed shut.
"I thought that I had a proper food taster?" Arthur said quietly, confusion evident on his features as he tried to process what Gwen had shouted.
"You did, sire. A twelve year old boy called John, who Merlin helped save after he suffered the effects of a poison meant for you. Merlin didn't want to see the lad hurt any more so he took on the job himself," Gaius answered, sharing a look with Mary. Arthur gaped, he had always believed he had a food taster like his father, someone who wouldn't be affected by the poison but still be able to detect it.
"I would never have allowed a child to taste my food had I known… never, Gaius," Arthur said horrified, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the thought. "Nor Merlin for that matter! Why didn't the idiot come and tell me? I would have stopped it immediately," Arthur continued, the look of horror not fading from his face.
"That's precisely the reason he didn't tell you, sire. He knew that if you ever found out, you would stop him and another boy would be made to do it," Gaius answered bleakly. Arthur opened his mouth to disagree but found that Gaius' words were true. He would have made Merlin stop and then probably not worried about who else would be made to taste instead. Merlin groaned and shifted slightly, causing all the room's occupants attentions to snap to him.
"How long will it be until he wakes up?" Arthur asked quietly.
"Probably sometime tomorrow morning, but he won't be able to move a muscle when he does wake up. The poison attacked his muscles, causing them to start to deteriorate," Gaius replied, getting up from his chair and stiffly stretching. The elderly physician's back made a few alarming crunching noises before he straightened and shuffled over to Merlin. He placed a hand on the young man's clammy forehead; Merlin nuzzled into the touch, sighing as Gaius stroked his hair.
"He will be in quite a bit of pain, sire and will need a friend," Gaius said, emphasizing the word 'friend'.
"I have already asked George to clear my schedule for tomorrow. I will stay with him, Gaius," Arthur responded, his eyes burning with determination to help his manservant get through his first few conscious hours.
"He doesn't just taste your food to save the young lads who would get picked, Arthur. He does it to protect you, he is happy to give his life for yours every single day. Just remember that, sire, when you order him around or send a few harsh words in his direction," Gaius said finally, moving his hand away from Merlin's hair to look at Arthur.
"Why couldn't he be like a normal servant, who wouldn't go to such lengths to protect me? That's what my knights are for!" Arthur complained, not out of real annoyance but out of worry for his friend.
"You wouldn't want him to serve you any other way, sire," Mary answered from her corner, smiling softly as she recalled seeing the two young men together, teasing each other constantly but always having each other's backs.
Groggily, Merlin started to regain consciousness, his eyelids flickering but didn't quite open. He could hear vague voices but his body felt so heavy like it was falling through the bed. He struggled against the looming blackness, trying to gather the energy to open his eyes. Slowly they cracked open, but his vision was fuzzy and all he could make out was blurry shapes moving above him. He tried to speak, to move, to do anything but unconsciousness claimed him and he drifted away.
"Gaius he opened his eyes!" Arthur exclaimed as Merlin fell asleep again. Gaius shuffled over and inspected his ward with an expert eye.
"I do believe his fever has broken, sire," Gaius finally said, straightening up and placing his hand on Arthur's shoulders. "He will be fine and probably drift in and out of consciousness for the next few hours."
Arthur sank back into his seat, stretching and feeling his back pop from sitting in the same position for so long. His eyes searched Merlin's relaxed face for any signs of discomfort or pain but he found none.
"Arthur, get some sleep. He won't be waking up any time soon and you could really use some rest," Gaius instructed, looking the crumpled prince up and down, noting the dark bruises under his eyes and the near constant yawns that escaped his mouth. Arthur went to protest, he didn't want to leave his manservant alone.
"You can have Merlin's room if you are worried about missing him waking up," Gaius interrupted, pointing at the low doorway at the back of the room. Arthur relented and stood back up again, moving towards the room.
"You will wake me up, Gaius?" he said, pausing by the door. Gaius just tutted and motioned for him to enter, shaking his head at the prince's behaviour. Arthur sighed and slipped into Merlin's room, wondering what his manservant's room would be like. He stooped under the frame and closed the door, taking in the sight of the tiny room; clearly it must have been an old storage area. It was tiny. Clothes littered the floor except for a handful of neckerchiefs that were stuffed pride of place in a half-open drawer. He smiled at the carved wooden dragon sitting on the windowsill; Arthur ran his hand along its back, noting the excellent craftsmanship. He peered at the small desk pushed up against the wall and chuckled at the half finished letter to Hunith on it, the quill left on the paper. He picked it up and put it in its holder. Arthur sat on the bed and pulled off his boots; the bed felt too hard under him but this was a servant's bed, what did he expect? He didn't bother with the rest of his clothing but just lay down and pulled the thin blanket over him. The bed was hard and the mattress felt like it was made of stone; he shifted to see if he could get more comfortable. Apparently there was more than one thing he needed to change - if he couldn't sleep on this bed then why should Merlin have to? That was his last thought before tiredness overcame the uncomfortable bed and he fell asleep.
"Arthur! Arthur!" Gaius shouted from the other room and Arthur shot upright. His mind took a few seconds to quick in and he realised that he was in Merlin's room. Slowly, he pushed the blanket off his body and sat up. Suddenly it hit him: Gaius had called him, Merlin must have woken. He rocketed off the bed and through the door almost colliding with Gaius who was crossing to the bed.
"Is he awake?" he stuttered out, skidding to a halt.
Gaius smiled. "See for yourself," he said, settling on a stool by Merlin's head. The man in question was blinking blearily and groaning as he regained consciousness in trickles. Arthur sank into a chair, waiting for Merlin to become fully aware.
"Ugh, why do I feel like I was trampled by twenty horses?" Merlin finally croaked and it was the sweetest sound Arthur had ever heard even if it sounded like wood being sanded.
"Not twenty horses luckily, Merlin," Gaius answered fondly, producing a vial of a thick brown sludge. He moved it to his ward's lips, which parted anticipating the potion. He swallowed and grimaced at the taste, he tried to move his hand but his fingers merely twitched. A dull, burning throb was present in his muscles and he groaned again as the pain returned.
"Make that forty horses," he winced, screwing his eyes shut. "Gaius, why can't I move my hand?" he asked when the pain had receded slightly.
"You were poisoned again but this particular poison had started to damage your muscles. So, you won't be able to move for a few days until they have fully healed," Gaius explained, standing up to give Arthur and Merlin some privacy when the man actually realised that the prince was there.
"Arthur saw this time, didn't he?" Merlin said resignedly, his brow furrowing.
"Arthur is right here," Arthur muttered, causing Merlin's eyes to shoot open and fix on Arthur. He groaned and closed them again.
"Talking about yourself in third person now, sire?" he teased with a faint smile that disappeared as a wave of fire spread through his body. He gasped and would have curled in on himself if he could move.
"Merlin? It should pass, Gaius told me that it is just your muscles healing," he said softly, watching his manservant's face contort in pain and feeling a sense of helplessness.
"Well… I wish they would h-hurry up," Merlin hissed, opening his eyes to squint at Arthur. Arthur chuckled at his friend's impatience and decided to change the subject to distract him.
"You'd think that the prince's manservant would be able to keep his room tidy but apparently not," Arthur joked lightly, recalling the state of the room he had spent the night in. Merlin huffed out a laugh.
"It would be tidy if a certain prince didn't give me so many chores that I don't have time to," he shot back, intending it to be a light-hearted bit of banter but instead it sent a pang of guilt through Arthur's heart.
"Yes, well, a few things are going to be changing around here, Merlin, Starting with your food tasting duties," Arthur said, clearing his throat. Merlin's looked up at Arthur, trying so hard to sit up but just causing his muscles to scream out in protest.
"No, Arthur! Don't make any more lads suffer that duty, I don't want to see anyone else that young collapse in front of me," Merlin whispered, remembering John's almost fatal poisoning.
"I never want to see you collapse like that in front of me again though," Arthur argued, also shuddering as he remembered the horrible moment when he realised something was horribly wrong.
"But I won't be making any youngsters taste my food. I have an idea that my father will hopefully agree to. I want his food taster to taste mine as well as his, that shouldn't cause any problems," Arthur explained, pleased with his solution that wouldn't put anyone else at risk. He didn't care if his father tried to stop him: princes were supposed to never back down. Uther himself had taught him that.
"That might just work, Arthur! Perhaps your tiny mind can come up with some good ideas," Merlin grinned weakly, feeling exhaustion tugging at the seams of his mind. Arthur noticed the slight drooping of his friend's eyelids and chuckled.
"Stop being stubborn, Merlin. Go to sleep," Arthur instructed, pleased when Merlin followed his orders for once.
"Don't get used… to this, prat," Merlin yawned, falling asleep with a smile on his face. A smile that was mirrored on Arthur's as that one insult lifted his spirits. He stood up from his seat and opened the chamber door to find Gaius, finally accepting that Merlin was going to be fine. He found the old man talking to Gwen outside in the corridor; the maidservant blushed furiously when she saw him.
"I'm sorry for the way I acted, sire, it was completely inappropriate," she stammered, attempting to curtsey. Arthur smiled and stopped her with a shake of his head.
"Gwen, you did the right thing. If you hadn't spoken to me like that I would never have realised what was going on and my question was entirely insulting, you spoke up for your friend. I always want you to tell me the truth," he said, raising her chin to look at him. She smiled shyly and blushed even more furiously.
"Of course, Arthur," she said and he revelled in the way his name rolled of her tongue.
"Gaius, he has gone back to sleep but I let him know about my new idea on his duties," Arthur explained to Gaius, who nodded and headed back into his chambers with a pleased smile on his wrinkled face.
Arthur became a near constant presence by Merlin's beside over the next few days as the young man slowly started to regain control of his muscles. The prince learnt more about his friend in those two days than he had over the whole time he had known the man, he learnt of a bastard boy growing up alone, shunned because of his birth. He learnt about a son who missed his mother and worried about her health every day. He learnt about a physician's ward that used his own blanket to cover up his mentor when he fell asleep by his bedside and would spend every spare minute he had helping him. He learnt about a servant who had protected his master more times than anyone could have guessed; it turned out that Arthur's food was a favourite target of assassins.
When Merlin took his first steps after nearly four days in bed, they were stumbling, toddler steps fringed with painful grimaces but they were drowned out by helping hands and light, teasing jibes.
Perhaps it takes one drop of poison to open someone's eyes rather than one drop of kindness.