A/N: Expect everything from angst to humour. AU BEYOND SERIES 2 EPISODE 11!
IMPORTANT: BY THE WAY, THE PROLOGUE IS FULL OF STUPIDITY BUT IT SURVES ITS PURPOSE WELL ENOUGH SO I KEPT IT PRETTY MUCH THE SAME AS IT WAS BEFORE. MOST OF THE OTHER CHAPTERS HAVE BEEN CHANGED OR LENGTHENED IN A RE-EDIT DUE TO ME BEING 14 AND NOT REALLY UP TO STANDARD WHEN I FIRST WROTE THIS!
Disclaimer (APPLIES TO ALL CHAPTERS): I do not own Merlin or any of the BBC's characters, I am not making any profit out of this story and it is purely fan-based. Thank you.
"The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story." - Ursula K. Le Guin
Prologue
Merlin woke to blinding December sunlight streaming in through the window in his room. He groaned and rolled over. He felt terrible. A headache was banging on the back of his skull; his eyelids were stinging with the effort to keep them open; his throat was burning; his skin was warm and clammy and he was soaked in cold sweat.
He lay on his back watching the sun rise slowly in the icy blue sky. His shaky breaths misted in front of his face.
He sat up in silence, drawing his thin blankets around his shoulders and attempting to summon the strength to leave his warm bed behind and venture out to work.
"One… two… three…" he whispered then stood quickly. He swayed as the world spun and pressed down on his head, purple dots dancing before his vision. They faded away and the room slotted back into place. He threw on his blue shirt, shook his hair out of his eyes, slipped on some boots and staggered down the stone staircase.
Gaius was stood around his work-bench almost feverishly making some kind of potion; he was also looking extremely pale.
"Gaius, what are you doing? Are you ok?" Merlin asked hoarsely, leaning forward, before recoiling backwards at the repulsive smell the cauldron was emitting.
"Not you as well!" Gaius snapped, albeit rather weakly. "Half of Camelot has come over with flu over night!"
"I'll help you; I've seen you make the cure for one of the villagers before." Merlin offered.
"No! If you hadbeen listening you'd know that each concoction is unique to the patient's age, height, weight and sex. It requires all of my concentration and I was up before dawn trying to find the recipe!" Merlin, who had first-hand experience in dealing his great uncle's filing system, winced at the thought of searching for one of his many books in the dark.
"Don't bother making one for me, I'll do with just a headache cure. I've got to go to Arthur now," Merlin said and pulled open a cupboard door, dragging his feet behind him and falling over a chair in the process.
X~X~X~X
"Merlin, you're late," Arthur said in a voice that still managed to sound commanding though it was greatly weakened.
Prince Arthur was lying on his bed surrounded by warm blankets. Merlin examined his face curiously. He looked tired and wan. His hair stuck up at odd angles and framed his white face oddly.
"Sorry sire," Merlin croaked absently while putting the rest of his effort into staying stood up.
"I suppose Gaius has told you-"
"-That you feel almost as bad as I do? Yes he has." Merlin cut in faintly and collapsed into a chair, wiping moisture off his forehead. Arthur frowned.
"You mean you're ill too? Merlin youidiot, why'd you come into work then? Never mind, just sit there and talk to me, I'm bored."
"What do you want me to talk about?" Merlin sighed.
"I don't know… anything!" The prince moaned and wriggled deeper into his blankets. Merlin sighed yet again… it was going to be a long day.
After talking for almost all morning non-stop, Merlin had found out a number of things about Arthur. For one, he absolutely detested plums, but really liked sprouts and that he favoured brunettes ("Ooooooh, you mean Gwen?") over blondes and couldn't stand the sight of anyone blonde for a week after Vivienne. Merlin had then pointed out that that he was blonde and Arthur had flopped backwards onto his pillows and proclaimed dramatically:
"Well, that's how I got over it. I mean, imagine, never being able to look at my own reflection ever again…" Merlin had snorted with laughter whilst trying to roll his eyes – it didn't work out too well.
Around midday, Gaius arrived looking flustered and stressed, insisting they both take yet more remedies. Each one tasted viler than the previous and appeared to have no affect at all. Merlin took his with a grimace and peered apprehensively at the pale green sludge stuck to the bottom of the bottle. He threw back his head and closed his eyes, raising it to his mouth… not noticing the contents flash briefly to a creamy shade of lilac.
Immediately he began to feel drowsy and swayed slightly where he sat. He cast a longing glance at the soft white pillows on Arthur's bed before slumping backwards into the seat and a deep slumber.
X~X~X~X
Gaius sighed as he swept back into his quarters. As an enthusiastic physician, he wished people would appreciate the intricate art involved in the brewing of his potions, rather than complain about the colour or texture. Morgana, Gwen and Merlin had taken theirs in good grace out of respect for their old friend (or in Merlin's case in fear of what Gaius would do to him if he didn't). Arthur and Uther, however, complained so profusely he'd just left the potion on their bedside tables, trusting they would drink it if they knew what was good for them. By the time he'd reached the women he was so aggravated he'd left them unceremoniously before he had checked the after-effects.
Realising that he had no idea whether the cure would work or not, he approached his boiling pot dubiously. A large slimy bubble grew and burst with a pop. Gaius jumped backwards in alarm and then chuckled at his own paranoia. He pulled himself together and ladled a generous portion of the gloopy medicine into a wooden bowl. He held it with two hands, staring at it, and then he drank. It slid down like a mud-slide and settled in the back of his throat. It felt a little like alcohol. That burning welcomed warmth and feeling of total contentment. He drifted over to his bed, tripping on the edge of his table, wondering vaguely if there had always been blue feathered chickens on the ceiling. Almost as soon as he sat on the hard mattress, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He fell into unconsciousness.
A/N: Ok yeah. Boring much? It will get better I promise. I forgot to tell you before that the only pairings are Arthur/Gwen and Merlin/Freya, you'll haveto bear with me on those though - I'm not a romance-y kind of person. Reviews are always welcome…