A/N: Thank you for the support, I'm glad some are enjoying this! Enjoy.
Merlin's dream subsided as he woke, leaving him feeling drained and… wrong, somehow. As if he had been in a completely different world, reality, and just had begun dreaming, and not the other way around. It was disconcerting to say the least. The man drew himself up into a sitting position, blinking until his eyes cleared. He started thinking of everything he would have to do this day, including any extra work Gaius may have him do… Until, that was, he saw the blood. It covered his hands, his pillow, even his arms in red-brown smudges and pools. He shot up from the bed, his arms held away from his body as he stared at them in shock. Quickly, he grabbed the closest reflective object and peered at his reflection – his face was covered in dried blood. Shock made his mouth feel full of cotton.
He shook off his unease and moved to the bucket of water on the other side of his room, splashing the liquid over his face and his arms, scrubbing until the flakes began to come off. The stress was probably getting to him. He had a bad nose bleed when he was ten, nearly scared his mother to death. He took his pillow and crammed it into the bucket, wringing and washing it out as best he could. He flipped it onto its other side before putting it onto the bed, then dressed himself for the day.
Merlin all but skipped into the next room, trying to put energy into his step. Usually, it came naturally to him, but not today. Today, he felt exhausted to his very core. Gaius was already sitting at the main table eating his breakfast, and it appeared as though Merlin's meal had been set out for some time. He winced. That meant he was most likely late for work, too, which meant Arthur was going to be even harder to deal with than usual…
"Long night?" Gaius asked, looking unimpressed by the boy's frazzled appearance. Merlin pursed his lips and deposited himself on the opposite seat, already starting to shovel food into his mouth.
"More like long day, short night."
"Ah."
The warlock finished his breakfast and stood, thanking the man before hurrying off to begin what was already set to be a long, long day. The walk down the corridors left him feeling ill and sore, which was odd, but he tried to sum it up to too much stress. Yes, that had to be it. He was always under quite a bit of pressure. Because he really, really didn't want to get one of the illnesses going around at this time, although he had only had one or two before, they had been unpleasant experiences and ones he wished never to repeat…
When he arrived at the prince's quarters with the man's breakfast, he nearly passed out. His head was spinning, and he just felt overall… awful. He would ask Gaius for something to help him when he finished with his chores. When he entered the room, he saw that Arthur was already awake – and partially dressed, but struggling to pull on his tunic. Merlin set the plate down onto the table and moved to the royal, helping tug down the material over his head. Arthur huffed, annoyed,
"Where have you been?"
"I guess I overslept."
"You guess?" Arthur fumed, "I've been waiting for breakfast since the sun came up!"
"You never get up that early." Merlin watched as the man made his way to the table, sitting down and beginning his meal.
"I couldn't sleep. Merlin, I need you to inform my father that I won't be able to make it to the dining hall this evening, I have things to catch up on and will be taking supper in my room."
Merlin didn't refrain from sighing. "I assume this means I'll be working late?"
Arthur didn't dignify that with a response. The manservant went about to tidying the room, redoing the blankets and preparing himself for the task that was dog-walking. "Oh," Arthur started, "also, after you finish with my dogs, I need you to join me in the training field. Bring the new pell from the supplies – Sir Eker destroyed the last one."
"Of course."
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He felt as though his arms would rip right out of their sockets. Merlin ground his teeth and planted his heels in the grass, doing his best to reign in the two Alaunts, both of them seemingly determined to make his day even worse than it had been. The dogs pulled on the chains, their short, curled tails wagging in the air and tongues lolling out as they stared at a rabbit several yards away, each of them taking turns barking. "No – bad. Dogs!" Merlin panted, his arms quivering as the creatures gave them each another tug, all hundred pounds suddenly thrust upon his individual limbs.
With one last tug from the animals, he found himself chasing after them, barely holding onto their leashes. Merlin felt heat rising into his ears – Arthur could see him from the training grounds, no doubt, being pulled around by the two Alaunts. He closed his eyes, exhaustion pressing behind them liking a headache that wouldn't go away. He wasn't sure how he was going to survive this day…
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The pell had to weigh as much as he did. Merlin struggled to draw in breath, his entire body quaking by this point. Arthur laughed from where he stood, watching his servant struggle. Merlin did his best to ignore the prince and his knights, who appeared to be having quite an entertaining time seeing his plight. No one would offer to help, no, he was just a lowly servant…
Then, suddenly, the world vanished into darkness and red spots. He doubled over, not sure if he had fallen or not – the pell fell onto his back when he hit the ground, and he was sure he heard his spine pop. His side exploded in pain. He scrambled, only to realize the training equipment had pinned him down, and he wasn't sure he had the strength in him now to push it off. Instead he breathed a sigh, thinking just how wonderful it would be to just get some sleep now…
Merlin groaned when the weight lifted off his back, but still, the discomfort stuck with him. He was rolled over and only then did he decide to open his eyes, finding himself staring up at prince Arthur. Great. Now he was just in for more mockery, as if this hadn't been hard enough. The royal pulled up Merlin's tunic without any warning. The warlock yelped in retaliation, trying to fight off the other man, but ended up letting his head drop back against the grass in defeat. He was just too tired.
"Looks like you bruised a rib. I knew you were a klutz, but you've been acting off since yesterday. What's wrong with you?"
Merlin couldn't decide if he heard concern or disbelieving ridicule. Knowing Arthur, it was the latter. "Uh…" he moaned, rolling onto his side and trying to catch his breath. Arthur sighed heartily and hauled the younger man onto his feet, gripping his biceps to keep him from falling back over,
"If you're sick you need to tell me."
"It's nothing, sire." I've had worse. He kept that last bit to himself.
"Good grief – if you're not well, you can't hide it from me. A half-dead servant is of no use to me."
No use. Merlin felt a pang of annoyance, followed soon after by discouragement. "Well if I'm just useable to you, you royal prat, then you shouldn't worry. I'll do my job." He shook off the prince and picked himself up again, as he always did, putting the pieces back together. He would survive the day, he knew it. He was strong. Ignoring the honest-to-God surprise on his master's face, as well as the other knights, he picked up the pell again and began dragging it into place. Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eye, stinging, and he squinted to lessen the feeling. When he set it in its proper place, he felt accomplishment swell in his chest. At least he had proved Arthur wrong, that was enough of a comfort to give him reason to keep going despite the feeling under his skin.
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Hours had passed since that incident, and Arthur had all but forgotten about it. In his chambers, his thoughts swirled like a storm, revolving around his father and the stone that pressed against his chest. It was an indescribable weight. He should never have accepted the gift, but, he didn't have a choice – at least that's what he told himself. There had been no option. Merlin was doing, well, Arthur wasn't sure what he was doing by this point, he didn't pay much attention to him. With a sigh the prince placed a hand on the chain resting around his neck. He wanted to take it off, he did, but at the same time a voice told him to leave it be. So he listened to it.
"Arthur?"
He turned around, "What?"
"Is there anything else you require?"
"No, you've done enough today. And Merlin…" he paused, looking torn as to whether or not he actually wanted to say what was going on in his head, "what you did on the training grounds, that was… Well, it wasn't impressive. And I certainly could never respect you for anything, you're just bloody awful…"
Sometime during Arthur's rambling, Merlin had started smiling. It was a weak smile, granted, but it was there nonetheless. Arthur felt some successful at gaining that kind of reaction, though he would never admit it.
"Thanks."
Arthur snorted and Merlin laughed briefly. The servant bowed, about to take his leave, when Arthur spoke again,
"Actually, stay. I would appreciate someone to talk to. Even someone as air-headed as yourself."
"That's thick. Kind of like you." Merlin's eyes sparkled mischievously.
"You…" Arthur shook his head and huffed. There was a beat of silence to follow, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was calm, if anything. "I know you're tired, Merlin. You've done well today. Get some rest."
Merlin didn't argue with that. He was gone before Arthur could say 'for Camelot'. The young prince deposited himself onto his bed and snuffed out the candle, staring at the window distantly. There would be no sleep this night either, he could tell already. He would stay up, thinking and overthinking…
Something glowed from under the blankets and he nearly flew off the bed in surprise. He shoved the blankets off himself and stared at the thing hanging from around his neck – the previously black stone had wisps of gold, swirling at the bottom of the black gem. His heart sank. The king had been right. Someone in Camelot did have magic; and not just someone, but someone that lived in the castle with them, someone that he spoke to on a daily basis. He swallowed his betrayal and mulled over every idea, every thought on who it could possibly be…
He would find out, whatever it took, and they would pay for their secret - with their soul.