Chapter 7 - Hold on

The king came to Merlin's bed. He thought his manservant was asleep, but as soon as Arthur lowered himself on a stool, his eyes flew open.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispered weakly. He wanted to stay strong but his voice decided to leave him long ago.

"You'll be all right," the king assured him as he noticed his efforts. He realised that rather than calming his servant, he was trying to convince himself that everything is going to be all right again.

"The man-" Merlin hissed as he turned his head to the king. The pain got worse for a moment and his body twitched, trying to shake it off as the muscles around his spine clenched painfully.

"Don't speak," Arthur ordered and touched Merlin's shoulder gently.

"You know I never do as I'm told," Merlin chuckled, letting out a wheezing breath. He needed more air, but all the air in the room was not enough to vent his constrained lungs.

"You're right. We'll have to do something about it as soon as you get out of this," Arthur looked at the arrow angrily. It stuck out of blood soaked bandages and looked like any other wooden arrows. Except this one was magical.

"The man," Merlin cleared his throat, hoping it would enable him to speak loudly, "you can't let him take the arrow."

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. He thought his servant was rambling. "Rest now. We can talk about it when you get better."

"He wants the arrow, otherwise he wouldn't be here," the boy swallowed hardly. "He won't give it up, and if you let him go, Morgana will find him. I know you know," Merlin explained with urge. He felt like the arrow was reacting with his fear, making him grimace in pain again. Merlin didn't even know why he was so sure about Daragh's intentions.

Arthur admired Merlin's determination to protect him and Camelot above all else, even his own life. He was the most loyal person he had ever met, though this time the decision was not on his shoulders. It was up to the king to say what is worth risking. Merlin was his priority now. He was resolute to risk the future of Camelot and the people in order to save his servant. Almost like without Merlin, nothing would ever make sense. Everything would go to waste.

"If it makes you feel better, he never expressed his wish to keep the arrow."

"He will," Merlin closed his eyes to rest for a while. He heard a strange hum in his ears and felt a single tear drop sliding down his cheek. "In return for my healing," he added almost inaudibly.

"First of all you need to recover. Now it is not time to bother with such things. Get some sleep," Arthur finished, hoping he managed to appease his servant a bit. There was a lot ahead. For all of them.

"Gaius-" Merlin moaned.

"He'll be back soon. He and Daragh need to fetch some... ehm, equipment. Herbs and things like that." Arthur didn't know. They'd left a few minutes ago, and Arthur offered himself to look after Merlin while they were gone. He hoped they'd be back soon.

"Don't give it to him, please," Merlin murmured and let himself drift into sleep.

...

"The theory my predecessor developed is something completely new, sire. With Gaius's help we managed to make this potion which will send the patient to a state similar to a very deep sleep. Although I need to warn you there won't be much time once the potion starts to work. We need to act as quickly as possible," the young Daragh explained, standing over the table with a dark blue liquid bubbling above a small flame.

Arthur nodded, not sure what to ask next. "I'm not sure if you mentioned, but how exactly are you going to pull it out?"

Daragh bent his head, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "Since the arrow was made to cause suffering and death-" he said carefully.

Coming to realise Daragh was not going to carry on, Gaius added. "We believe that the arrow can be cheated by weakening Merlin's body and instead of pulling the arrow out, actually pulling it through."

Arthur lost his breath for a moment, his eyes finding Merlin to make sure this wasn't just a bad dream. "Gaius!" he almost shouted.

Quiet.

"I mean will it work? Wouldn't it hurt him even more?" Arthur stated his question, looking inquiringly on Gaius.

"The arrow is old, my lord. And no one has ever survived the attack. We can't be sure about anything. But yes, this is the only way that remains. We must take our chance," Gaius clarified.

After a few moments of deadly silence Daragh added: "We can presume people in the previous times tried to get rid of the magical arrow in every single possible way. And we know they failed. This procedure, however, was, as far as we know, never tried before, and that's why we have to take it."

"By cheating it," Arthur needed to strengthen what he heard.

"It is believed the arrow has something like its own mind. According to the legend, a life of a sorceress was sacrificed by the ritual and her consciousness was spliced into the arrows to keep them... let's say alive."

"You believe these words?" Arthur turned to Gaius, knowing he was the one he could fully trust.

"This is truly written in the old Daragh's notes, and I have no reason to doubt. It appears he believed his theory, though knowing no one has ever proved its efficiency makes me afraid for Merlin's life. I can't guarantee a success, my lord."

Arthur nodded understandingly, pacing around and rubbing his chin. "Do it," he ordered.

...

The darkness of the night was slowly becoming the only light to Arthur's mind. He was desperate to finally see Merlin alive, safe and sound and doing his chores, no matter how bad. It almost looked like Merlin wasn't capable of doing anything properly but saving Arthur's life. How long was he going to carry on until he got the final blow?

Merlin was awake, his empty eyes staring at the ceiling. Arthur saw tears streaming his face, sparkling in the light of the candles, though he didn't look like he was crying. His lips were getting blue and the king noticed they were moving quietly. Arthur made his way to Merlin, wanting to find out what was his servant whispering but the moment he stepped into his view, the boy stopped and looked at him.

"Do you need something? Can I fetch you some water or-" Arthur asked, studying Merlin carefully.

Merlin closed his eyes. There was nothing he really needed, but staying awake as long as possible. He was sure like never before that falling asleep now would mean he would never wake up again. He was standing on the edge of life and death and was prepared to fight. The spells he used to help him stay conscious didn't seem to work, though.

"Just don't let me fall asleep," Merlin whispered finally.

"That's new. Do you remember falling from your horse once? You said you fell asleep," Arthur smiled at the thought. "Would you believe it? You fell asleep while riding."

Merlin chuckled, "You splashed water over my face. That wasn't nice."

"But it worked, didn't it. Here's the thing, if you fall asleep now I can sprinkle you with one of the Gaius's potions he has," Arthur joked.

"I wouldn't do that."

"Why?"

"Because there is no one to gather herbs for him now, you know..."

Arthur became serious again. "Then you must recover quickly. I don't think there is anyone more skilled in gathering herbs than you."

"You need to find him someone," Merlin hissed, "when I'm gone."

"Don't you dare, Merlin. You will be all right, do you understand? Your time is not yet to come," Arthur stated.

Merlin just smiled painfully, knowing that Arthur was always right. No matter how wrong he obviously was, Merlin learned to agree with the royal prat's believed. For the good of both of them. "Yes, sire," he whispered.

The warlock shifted in bed a bit. Arthur knew he was in pain, doing his best to hide it from him. He was brave. Braver than Arthur ever expected him to be.

"Everything's ready I believe," Gaius appeared again, holding a small bottle in his hand. Merlin shot a look at the potion, not sure what to anticipate. It seemed to be too easy for him, just drink it and hope he would wake up again. Fear filled him as Gaius held his head and brought the glass to his lips.

"It smells," Merlin argued, trying to delay what was about to come. He knew it was childish of him, but he couldn't help it. He was shaking again, feeling the fear and cold almost tearing his insides apart. His breath was fast and loud.

"Don't smell it then," Arthur remarked and nodded to encourage his hesitant servant. "The sooner you drink it, the sooner it'll be over."

"You are in good hands," Daragh showed himself to Merlin, giving him a constrained smile. It was probably the first time Merlin had the opportunity to fully see his saviour. He swallowed heavily and drank the liquid up. As soon as it touched his lips, Merlin felt smooth warm permeating through his body. For a short moment the fear completely left him, replaced with a strong feeling of peace and comfort. For that moment Merlin believed that maybe, he would truly survive.

As soon as the effect of the potion started closing his eyes, Merlin realised one important fact. Something he should have noticed before. The green shirt with a golden hems. The shirt of the attacker. Now he knew why Daragh seemed so untrustworthy to him.

He was the man who fired the arrow on Arthur.

Merlin panicked, trying to shake the numbness off but it was in vain. He wanted to wake up and scream, but he simply couldn't. Moving or even blinking to show Arthur something was wrong was impossible. All he could see was a never-ending darkness. Horror filled up his mind. He had made a mistake. The most horrible mistake which would most likely lead to Arthur's death.

He screamed. He shouted like never before, again and again but with no effect. Another burst of panic pervaded him as he realised he probably hadn't said a word. He imagined himself lying completely motionless on the bed, where Daragh was trying to pull the arrow out. Being at his mercy, there was nothing left to do.

Nothing but magic.

With all the force that reminded, Merlin focused on his strongest part. On the only skill that never failed him. His magic was weak, but knowing it was his last hope, Merlin concentrated all of it to one point. He felt his muscles, bones and cells responding, sending a wave of energy to his chest. It was cold as ice and at the same time burned like the strongest fire. It felt like hope. This was what he needed. This and one simple spell.

He knew he was waking up. Quickly and with energy that was far beyond all he ever experienced.

To be continued...