Last Friday post.. quite late. With rumors of Colin in hospital I got too distracted and just couldn't get myself to write. Anyone got any news? Last thing I got was several days ago, and that was of him being in hospital and on antibiotics IV. Now even that is unconfirmed so.. anyone out there know anything ?

This chapter...yea. I'll just quit the editing now, post and run in the other direction.. I wonder if it's getting lame :/

Anyways.. keeping A/N short, hope you like, despite my pickiness about it and sorry for the delay.. Thank you for the reviews favs and follows, your feedback keeps me going, I thank you from the bottom of my heart~ Bless you all!

Enjoy!

.*.

He didn't know when darkness claimed him, but it took him a while for his ear to perceive and make sense of what he was hearing. The knight was calling out to him, and once his eyes got used to seeing passed the dangling and dancing shadows, he recognized Percival's concerned face in front of him.

"Wh.. what? ..What is it?" Merlin mumbled, feeling like a cloud had settled somewhere where his brain should be. He very much wanted to head back into the comfort of dark unconsciousness, but figured he should hear out what the tall man wanted. He decided to go back to sleep afterwards.

"You should try and stay awake." The man said. Sir Percival was pretty sure being oblivious to the pain was more inviting then glaring at the cavern walls and baring it, but he had all intention to keep the servant wakeful with the head injury.

"It's.. f..fine.. I'm fine.. I'm awake." Merlin tried to sound reassuring, even if he was certain he's sounding anything but. He swallowed drily and contemplated asking for some water, but he felt speaking in itself was an effort he'd needed to calculate about before spending too much energy on it. He tried to stay awake though; least for now, as the knight was keeping an eye on him. But it's okay, he'll fall asleep when Percival isn't looking.

He then noticed, his feet were higher then he remembered, and after some thinking he figured the knight must've prepped them up to keep his legs raised. It made the warlock feel humbled and grateful for it helped his sore body cope with the blood loss. The chill and the dizziness was more then enough. He tried to focus. He remembered nothing of being moved. He was certain he didn't wake for it. He also had to try and not give away how his aching had dimmed to a bearable amount, thanks to the healing spells, wondering if his drowsiness and confusion was part of the effect as well. Gaius would surely scold him..

"We should talk." The knight said with a sudden idea, his voice ripping through the cloud of thoughts.

Merlin's eyebrows wandered upwards, making his tired, hazy expression rather comical and disbelieving. Percival had to admit it wasn't the best of ideas he had come up with, and he felt anything but talking, but they had to make due with what was available, so he started babbling to hold the servant's attention. Stories and pranks, whatever came to his mind, he was saying it loud.

Getting the servant to talk was another matter. Merlin was breathless from a single tale about Arthur putting his shirt on inside out, and the manservant deciding to let him wear it like that for the whole day, simply because he thought the blonde deserved it for the extra chores piled on him. Besides, he was the king, nobody dared to make a remark about his garment.

They laughed and Merlin held onto his injured arm not to jolt his shoulder too much.

However, laughter might not have been the very best medicine and spells or not, ache was creeping back into his body. He also needed a gulp of water when he finished talking, so Percival took pity on him and took it upon himself to be the source of constant distraction. So he talked. From what he'll do when they get out of this place, to his childhood mischief's with a maiden's bath; from one of the Camelot stable-boy's bride, to Gwaine's story he heard about a landlord's daughter and some stolen barrels of ale, that somewhere along the line included a stolen horse and a sack of apples. All the while, continuously making sure Merlin was looking at him and paying attention; hearing out his remarks, while they waited for time to pass, and rousing him when his eyes slipped closed.

He felt he hasn't talked this much in all his life.

"Percival.. I'm.. tired.." Merlin sighed at one point, sounding every bit of it.

"But with the head wound.." The man said apologetically. He knew as much that those things were tricky and too sneaky to ignore.

"I know.." Merlin understood. "I know, but.. I can't help it. It's.. it's enough if you wake me every now and again.. every hour or so.. Just.. st le'mme sleep.. a little.."

Despite his better judgment Percival agreed to it, Merlin was the physician's apprentice after all. He fell unconscious in an instant. And so the night stretched on in silence; only a moan or a gasp here and there, and the knight was left with his thoughts once again.

Sometimes he would doze off and he'd wake with a start and wake the sorcerer in a rush; other times he just looked at the unconscious man, his fingers no longer twitching towards the dagger, but still he sat with much uncertainty in his heart and as much turmoil in his head.

He knew.

He knew what the man was, yet talking to Merlin was the same. The jokes, the tales, the humor; everything was the same; everything felt the same and the more he talked the more comfortable he felt with it and that in itself made him worry as hell. Had he been enchanted? Was all this a façade?

He kept thinking the king should decide about Merlin's fate instead; which in the same time felt both like a burden taken off his shoulders, as well as made him feel cowardly of not being able to come to a decision on his own. Arthur knew the man, he trusted the servant and there was the fact that Merlin's been a good friend of Lancelot as well; so Percival just couldn't take a dagger to his throat. It just wouldn't be any good.

Thus he stuck to waking the manservant every now and again, for a short talk; for a gulp of water. He would check to see if fever was reaching him; check for his breathing, his heartbeat; making sure he is alive and stays that way too. All the while letting his thoughts roam and coming to the same conclusion each time: that was, of not coming to a decision.

He kept to the unwilling routine, yet as the night passed each time it took more and more for Percival to rouse Merlin and he was getting really worried, even if he wouldn't have known what to say if someone had asked him why. – And to keep Merlin alive for the king to judge him was becoming a lame excuse.

At one time he resolved to actually squeezing Merlin's injured shoulder to wake him.

"Sorry.." He meant it.

The manservant merely nodded as he squeezed his lips tight to prevent another whimper escaping and held his injured limb.

The knight said nothing just looked like a lost pup, obviously fearing every time, that if the servant closed his eyes he just might not wake up the next time and then he would have to give answers to the king. So as a last resolve he decided to pick a different topic, that he felt would surely keep Merlin awake..

"How do you think Morgana feels?" He asked cautiously. "What do you think.. having magic feels like?"

Merlin could have sworn there was an odd tone to that question; curiosity obvious in it, yet it was just an odd topic to pick. Magic always was an odd topic to pick, and he felt himself getting cautious-jumpy from it over the years; but this time he brushed it off thinking his condition is making him imagine things, so he just looked at the tall man with furrowed brows, taking it as the knight's attempt to keep him talking and awake. He took a moment to consider the answer, but it wasn't really something he needed long to think about.

"Lonely." He said quietly, after a short pause and that in turn wasn't an answer Percival expected.

The manservant looked up at the knight and he clearly was waiting for something more. "Lonely?" he repeated, unable to hide an incredulous edge of the word.

"I can't imagine being.. hunted to feel like anything else.. but lonely and scared."

"Of course she's hunted! She is out to get us all killed!" Merlin found he can't argue with that, but then Percival added something that made him almost twitch. "Magic corrupted her!" A little flame of annoyance and anger rose in the knight and he suddenly recalled why he wanted to kill the servant to begin with. It's only natural for him to side with the witch!

"It.. wasn't m-magic.. it.. Uther.." Merlin was struggling with the words. Suddenly wanting to say a lot, but running out of breath to do so and even he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Magic wasn't evil! Why couldn't people see that..? "She.. she used to b-be different.. " Merlin said and felt his eyes sting thinking about the sweet girl that gave out food for those in need in times of hardship, the girl that stood up to the tyrant of a king to save her maid.. and what she became of that girl. All that was left now of her was a bitter woman, that saw nothing else but power and revenge, and not thinking about what comes after it.. "She used to be.. a good person.." He still believed that. He still wanted to believe that.

Merlin turned his head away, not wanting to look at the knight; not wanting to show just how much it bothered him of how Morgana turned out to be; not wanting to show the guilt he felt consuming him and crushing him day in and day out and how that guilt somehow felt tenfold heavier in that moment. If only.. If only he had made different decisions; if only he had taken different steps.. siblings wouldn't be fighting each other now.

"S-she used to be.. such a.. good p-person.."

He didn't even know why it all was upsetting him so much. He was on the verge of tears and he fought between proving his point and not embarrassing himself, topped with his own confusion of why the notion had such an effect on him all of a sudden. It bothered him, but for long now he didn't get so emotional about the witch's fate.. so why now? Was he losing it? Perhaps it was the knock on the head, perhaps the myriad of spells he cast carelessly.. Maybe a bit of both. It had to be..

"Sh.. e used to be.."

"I'm sorry.." Percival mumbled involuntarily. "I.. didn't know her before that." He added accordingly. Truth be told he felt a little taken aback by the servant's outburst, even if the servant didn't actually shout, he looked properly shaken. And then the knight realized something: it was just like Merlin to see the good in everyone. Just like Lancelot had told about him; and the muscular knight felt a little guilty for his rising anger again. What a puzzle this man was. A moment ago he almost had enough reason to pull his dagger on the manservant, but yet again Merlin proved himself to be made of something else.

The warlock was taking deep breaths to calm himself. He had a head injury, and he's been in a shower of falling boulders, Gods know what was wrong with his arm and shoulder, pain was creeping back into his cold limbs, yet he was thinking clear. His outburst told Merlin he was reaching dangerous levels in his condition. He knew he had lost a lot of blood, and his little spells could only manage as much as slowing down the inevitable, before his mind would give in to the numbness from the pain or the spells, or have his mouth go walkies, like it just did. He felt a pang of fear; did he mess up some spells..? Gaius will be so angry. He wondered how infection didn't kick in yet. - Not that he was missing the feeling of it.

He tried to scale his options.

He couldn't be sure how Percival would take the news of him having magic; the man wasn't fond of sorcerers, that much was certain; and he couldn't trust the knight wouldn't beat him to a pulp should the warlock reveal himself. He'd be defenseless in his condition. - That thought made him feel alone. How else could a magic user feel..? He huffed. If he were to reveal himself it would threaten him as much as just dying slowly from his injuries.

But he had to have faith, Merlin reminded himself, before desperation could take hold. He had to trust that one day things will change, that things will be different once Arthur unites the land of Albion. He just had to wait it out.. and live through the mess until that day actually comes.

Thinking further, Merlin wondered if he could manage casting a sleeping spell on the knight, then properly healing himself; but how would he explain his condition's rapid improvement once the man wakes; or perhaps the sleeping spell might take too much effort to begin with..

He felt a tear tickle down from the corner of his eye and he felt glad he was facing away from Percival. Come what may; he decided to do nothing. And as Percival stayed quiet he slowly let himself be claimed by the darkness.

Soon he felt being roused again, and Merlin took it like an insult to his own existence.

"Please.. No.. please Percival.." He pleaded. "It.. it hurts so much, just let me sleep.." He didn't care that he was whimpering now. Gods, he was pathetic, but he just didn't care anymore. He was freezing and felt exhausted. He felt thirsty, but had since talked himself out of asking for water. Bloody cave.

The knight put his hand on his good shoulder and he could swear he was seeing sunlight from somewhere, but when he opened his eyes he realized they still were in the cave. And the knight was hovering over him with concern.

"I just.. I just closed my eyes.." He said trying to sound convincing.

"You've been out for an hour or two already." He said plainly and Merlin looked at him with furrowed brows. He could have sworn he just closed his eyes, but glancing around he could see the torch was in a different angle and he had the remains of the cape covering him. He really did fall unconscious.

"Listen." Percival said, drawing his attention on him again and it seemed he's looking for the right words to say something; something that can't be good. "We should move." He said.

Merlin waited for the rest of that to come. "Arthur?" He prompted. Have the knights come to rescue them from this damned place?

"No." the man sighed and Merlin felt tempted to slap him to get the knight talking.

"I know where the way out is. We should move closer to the entrance, so the others can find us better."

The warlock furrowed his brows and then he saw it too.

Oh no..

A little earlier Percival has been sitting in silence watching over the shivering form of the manservant when something came to him that just added to the worry.

Merlin was cold. Blood loss or not, he was bundled under a cape and still shivered. Percival was in his usual sleeveless wear and he felt quite warm. In a second thought he glances at the makeshift bandage on his upper arm. It felt sorer then before. The same was true for the cut on his thigh. He sat in one place and was so focused on the servant, he didn't notice it before, but he was feeling weak and warm and once the image of the torch danced around a few times in front of him he didn't need to think hard to know what he was heading for: an infection.

It was a race against time, even more now. But he was determined to get them to the entrance before his strength would give out.

.*.


sword: Thanks much for the review! Glad you like the story :)