Hello again! Back with another chapter - happy reading!
Blankets
"It's just like you to get sick, Merlin," Arthur grumbled as Merlin sniffled from underneath the thin covers of his bed. "And we weren't even out for that long!" Sadly, Merlin couldn't even bring himself to reply or shoot back some sort of snarky comment – he was shivering too hard. After a few minutes of trembling in his bed, Merlin managed to say, "What's – the point – in you coming here – if you're just – going to complain – you – prat?" (Merlin's teeth kept chattering in between words.)
The look that came next on Arthur's face was something that Merlin hadn't really seen before – not directed at him, at least. For a second, Merlin was almost sure that he saw worry flash across Arthur's face. However, it must have been imagination (or he must have been very sick,) because in the next moment, Arthur was looking as annoyed as ever. "I've said it before, haven't I? I need someone to talk to or I might go out of my mind." He said haughtily.
"Go talk to – Morgana, then," Merlin stammered, rolling over on his side so his face would be buried in the pillow. He heard Arthur groan and reply, "Talk to Morgana now? I'd rather get thrown in the stocks – she's furious with me." At those words, Merlin couldn't help but to chuckle weakly. The thought of Arthur getting thrown in the stocks could cheer any person.
But then another harsh coughing fit took over Merlin's body and he was forced to lean over the bed, just in case he was to vomit over the sheets. (That had happened before – and besides, one couldn't ever be too careful.) Gasping for breath, Merlin brought his head up a few inches off the floor and tried to push himself back up.
However, he found that he didn't need to – because a second later, a warm arm was slinging itself around Merlin's torso (with surprising gentleness) and bringing him into the bed. Merlin let out another feeble cough before looking up at Arthur, who was now peering down at him with concerned eyes. (So it wasn't Merlin's imagination the first time.)
"You know, you didn't have to prove how sick you were by hacking up your lungs," Arthur said, his eyebrows lifting to his hairline. Merlin smiled feebly up at Arthur and replied hoarsely, "If only."
Rolling his eyes, Arthur stood up. "Next time, don't think about running into an icy pond to do something heroic, Merlin," he muttered. "It'll only result in stabbing you in the back like this."
It took another few minutes for Merlin to reply – the tremors had taken over his body yet again. Forcing himself to bite down on the inside of his cheek from shivering any harder, Merlin replied, "You're welcome, if that was a thank you."
Arthur snorted. "Hardly," he shot back and casting another sidelong glance at the younger man, shook his head. "Will you stop wobbling around like that? My muscles are hurting just from looking at you!" Gritting his teeth, Merlin replied, "Can't – help – it." He wrapped his arms around himself, even though it wasn't much use. "Too – cold."
"How? You're sweating," Arthur replied dubiously. And it was true – even now, beads of sweat were sliding down the side of Merlin's face, though he couldn't quite feel it. Once realizing that Merlin wasn't going to respond to Arthur's remark right away, he lifted his hands in surrender. "You know what? Forget it – I'll be back in a minute."
Just before Arthur disappeared from the room, he looked back at Merlin. "You can survive for one minute without me, yes?"
Merlin managed a shaky shrug, to which Arthur sighed. "Fine – one minute. I better not find you…convulsing on the floor or something like that, because if you do, I'll make sure you won't ever hear the end of it." Obviously satisfied with his choice of words, Arthur ducked out from the room.
Merlin shook his head to himself. He had been told by Gaius and Guinevere and a handful of other people that Arthur cared about him – something about what he does or says about Merlin behind his back…though now, Merlin could only think that the prat had a funny way of showing his care.
But then a few minutes later, Arthur returned, his arms laden with blankets thicker than the cover that was thrown over Merlin's bed. The prince made his way to Merlin and without so much of an explanation, dumped the blankets on top of the mattress. Merlin made a small squeaking sound in surprise and with widening eyes, asked, "What's this?"
Arthur was slow to respond. He was busy spreading the blankets out over Merlin. Once completing the process,(and making sure that only Merlin's head would be poking out from the great mound of blankets,) the blond crossed his arms and said, "You said you were too cold – so I got you something that might keep you warm."
Merlin blinked. "But –"
"That threadbare thing that you were calling your blanket wasn't going to help you, now, was it?" Arthur interrupted, raising his eyes to the ceiling. He was deliberately avoiding Merlin's gaze now. "And don't even bother telling me that it's not necessary – I can't stand having George as a servant for another day." Not bothering to even take a breath, the prince added, "And the blankets came out of the extra bunch of fresh laundry, so don't even think about telling me how someone's missing a bunch of blankets tonight."
"Arthur," Merlin finally said, staring pointedly at the blond.
"What?" Arthur asked, mimicking Merlin's tone.
Merlin smiled and replied quietly, "Just wanted to say thank you, prat."
It was Arthur's turn to look bewildered. After a few beats of silence, the expression faded to be replaced by one of a shy kind of…almost warmth. Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, Arthur smiled and said, "You're welcome, if that was your way of thanking me."
Merlin could roll his eyes and laugh quietly as the prince turned to walk out of the bedroom.
A/N - Please don't be a Grinch; review instead! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not.