A/N: Yeah I'm getting really bad at updating. Sorry about that. Hit a hard rough patch there as far as writing goes where just no words would come. So frustrating. But they finally started flowing and well, here's the result. Back to Merlin's POV! Enjoy!
Nothing made sense anymore.
There were times when Merlin was sure he was awake, was sure that the jostling and jolting of his body was more than a vivid dream. At times, he thought he even heard voices, the steady clopping of horses hooves, and later, the familiar tinkling of vials and bubbling brews and potions. Other times he swore he was back in Ealdor, Will's call filling his ears as his mother scolded him for sleeping so long. His mind grappled to hold on to each, to peel open his crusted eyes and see for himself which was reality. But his eyes refused to obey. His body refused to obey. He could only listen, smell, feel the world around him, desperately trying to make sense of what had and what was happening. Something of great importance, he was sure, something that he should remember, but he just...couldn't.
The world, both waking and dreaming remained firmly black, shrouded, pressing in on all sides, sounds and smells changing, whirling and twisting until he couldn't discern one from the other or recognize them. He was sure that he would never see light again, that this purgatory he was trapped in would become the only thing he knew.
He couldn't remember how he had wound up in such a place.
Then words, distant at first then growing with power broke through the black. Their meaning was lost on him, but the rise and fall of the tone, the voice, the fluidity of their structure made them familiar, soothing, welcoming. He stopped thinking, stopped trying to work out reality and just listened, letting the words wash over him, breathing them in, filling his lungs with their calm.
The calm, however, only lasted for a beat. The words kept filling his lungs, trapped there, like a too-full wine skin about ready to burst. He struggled, fighting to breathe, to let the words out, to release them before his lungs exploded. But they kept coming until he was drowning, losing the battle against their onslaught, death encroaching at the edges of his vision.
He jolted up, eyes suddenly wide and glowing as he coughed and sputtered, fighting for breath. He was barely able to take in the feel of the hard and lumpy mattress beneath him, a heavy worn blanket over his body, before he was doubling over the side of the wooden frame and heaving. Dark, foul liquid expelled from his lungs and spattered onto the floorboards below. The sour stench of blood and bile immediately assaulted his nose. And it just kept coming with each miniscule breath in another wave of nauseating liquid forced its way out of his lungs until he was sure he was going to heave up his innards and give in to death right there.
"That's….let it….I know…." a familiar voice soothed, a few words making it past the sound of hacking. The voice was old and weathered, the very same that had spoken the words from before. A hand traced calming circles on his back, its movements sure but stuttering as though the owner were just as frightened by this sudden onslaught as Merlin was.
Finally, it all stopped and Merlin gasped in a lungful of air. And another. And another until he was breathing like he'd never tasted air before. Then he was coughing again, his lungs straining, throat burning. But the rattle was gone. The agonizing pressure in his chest was gone. The feeling like he was drowning with every shallow breath. All of it, gone.
"Gaius," he said once he caught his breath, throat so dry and scratchy it came out no more than a whisper. Gods, when was the last time he had had a drink? Must have been years with the way he felt.
A cup was offered and he gulped down its contents without question.
"Easy, Merlin. Easy, you'll make yourself sick," Gaius snatched the cup away. "Have I taught you nothing?"
"Sorry," he mumbled, slumping back as a wave of dizziness swept over him and his strength ebbed. He suddenly felt weak as though just lifting a hand would have taken the last of his energy. Not to mention his head was pounding, his ribs still ached—though he could feel the tightness of fresh bandages around both his torso and forehead—and a soreness was taking root throughout his whole body. But there were much more important things to worry about. His health and comfort could wait.
"Arthur," he asked, trying to keep the desperation from his voice. "Did they find Arthur?"
Gaius shook his head. "Leon and Elyan returned yesterday, but they found no sign of him."
"Yesterday?" Panic surged through Merlin and he attempted to sit up again. "What—how long have I been out, Gaius?" How many days had Arthur been missing?
"Two days. You were barely breathing when Gwaine brought you in. I—there was nothing I could do—I had no choice," Gaius trailed off his eyes distant and pained. "But I managed to find a spell, finally."
"Gaius!"
"No, don't," the old man said, voice hard and stern, warning that any argument would not be tolerated. "You were dying. I apologize for the rude awakening but I'm certain it saved your life. Not sure the effects such a prolonged illness will have on your lungs so I suggest you take it easy."
"Not a chance," Merlin said with a shake of his head as he threw off the blanket in anticipation of doing just the opposite. "I need to find Arthur."
He barely made it halfway off the mattress before falling back, as his muscles screamed in protest and blackness encroached at the edges of his vision.
"I had a feeling you would say that," Gaius sighed, shaking his head as he put a hand on Merlin's chest. The old physician paused, listening and feeling as the young warlock breathed, his eyes searching his face. After a few beats he spoke again. "What happened Merlin?"
Merlin took a few breaths, savoring the taste and feeling of being able to just breathe normally. It was a feeling he was never going to take for granted for as long as he lived. "Bandits. They just, they took him. There was nothing I could do Gaius. My magic, it was...it wasn't working correctly. Everything was on fire, I could hardly breathe..."
Gaius placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder, trying to head off the encroaching panic. "Peace Merlin, peace. You're going to be fine."
"That's not the point!" Merlin shouted, or, at least he attempted to. But his throat immediately rebelling against such abuse and the coughing began anew, harder and more violent than before. Fear shot through his stomach like a bolt. The illness was back, having never left, just waiting in the recesses of his lungs until this moment when it could overcome him. He had no doubt this time, it would be able to finish what it started. Again, when Arthur needed him most.
But the coughing was over just as quickly as it had come. Merlin swallowed on instinct before taking an even breath through his nose a few times to settle his lungs and his racing heart. He looked up at Gaius, just in time to see the concern on his face morph into relief and then melt away altogether. Merlin nodded, more to himself than his mentor, silently communicating that he was alright, he was fine.
"Arthur was kidnapped, taken from right beside me and I couldn't do a thing about it." He clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the memory of those last few minutes before Arthur was dragged off played through his mind. Whether or not he ever found Arthur, that moment would haunt Merlin for the rest of his life. The moment he had failed his king, his best friend, his destiny.
"You didn't recognize any of these men?" Gaius asked as he rubbed soothing circles on Merlin's shoulder. "They didn't say who they were working for, didn't mention a name?"
Merlin shook his head but regretted the action as it aggravated his ever present headache. "Carlin was the only name I heard but he was just a hired hand. Only mentioned working for someone but that's it. Nothing else. I can't even tell you which direction we were heading nor coming from once we escaped. I was uh...pretty out of it." Merlin rubbed at his throat subconsciously as he glanced down, shame coloring his cheeks. "Probably couldn't have even told you which way was up."
Gaius nodded in understanding. The old physician turned away then, making his way over to the pitcher of water perched on the small table.
With Gaius' back turned, Merlin braced his arms against the hard mattress and struggled to sit up again. He had no way of knowing what was happening to Arthur, and speculating wasn't going to help. He needed to act. Two days had passed and any number of things could have happened within that time. He needed to find Arthur now.
"Here, drink," Gaius said, back at Merlin's side with another cup, this time only a third full of water so the warlock wouldn't overindulge. The old physician made no move to push Merlin back down but eyed him disapprovingly. "Your throat will probably be sore for a while still."
Merlin nodded in thanks, realizing just how scratchy and raw his throat felt. All the talking wasn't doing him any good either but right now he wasn't focused on himself. Arthur was, as always had been and would likely always be, his priority.
He downed the small amount of liquid in the cup in one gulp.
The foul taste hit him a beat later and his eyes widened. He tried to scramble off the bed despite knowing it would do him no good but Gaius pushed him back down before he could.
"Gaius!" Merlin croaked, feeling betrayed and hurt at his mentor's actions. He struggled against the surprisingly strong aged physician.
Gaius for his part, looked guilty but relief was quickly overshadowing it. "You need to rest, Merlin."
"I need to find Arthur!" He was panicking now even as his breathing slowed and his energy flagged. Gaius knew how important Arthur was, knew how much Merlin cared for and needed Arthur, destiny excluded. He couldn't just leave him to his own devices out there. The prat couldn't last a day without him and it had already been two.
"And you will, I have no doubt," Gaius stated as Merlin's strength finally gave out and he slumped back onto the pillows. The physician held him down a beat longer before settling the blanket back over him, the weight of the heavy fabric pinning him to the mattress. "But not until after you have recovered."
"It might be…too late then," he mumbled. His thoughts were sluggish now, his body succumbing to the potion Gaius had slipped him even as his mind tried to fight back. But it was in vain.
Gaius patted Merlin's leg beneath the blanket, the act barely felt by the warlock. "Sleep, Merlin. You need it."
Merlin gathered the last of his consciousness and glared at Gaius as much as he could through heavy lidded eyes. "Y-you...you won't..be able...to...s-stop me...next time…"
"I know, Merlin," he heard Gaius say but the old physician sounded far away now as the darkness engulfed his mind. "I know."
A/N: Hope that wasn't too bad. I know not much happened but well, there's still more to come. Let me know what you thought, liked, hated, want to see, etc etc. And as always, have fun, be safe and don't die. Stay magical readers!