A/N: Okay, this isn't 'favored' and it is really short, but it just occurred to me that this was pretty much the perfect place to shoehorn this in (well, actually, the perfect place would've been after 'ague' but I was a bit slow on the uptake). So, 'favored' will now be chapter 12. I am also pleased to say that someone has already correctly guessed the neckerchief use- but I won't say who ^_~
Arthur fidgeted outside the door, twisting the bit of purple cloth in his hands.
The sudden outburst of coughs on the other side of the wood, followed by a pained groan, made him want to leave- but he knew Guinevere wouldn't forgive him if he did.
Straightening up, he strode forward with a confidence he wasn't feeling and pushed the door open slowly.
"Merlin?"
The window was shuttered and the room was dark and drear, the king could hardly make out the pitiful form of his manservant huddled on the bed.
"How are you feeling?"
He knew it was a foolish question.
The man was weak yet from blood loss and the injury was still healing, making it necessary that he remain in bed.
Not that that was too much of a problem for Merlin who, in his vulnerable state, had contracted a nasty cold and was entirely too miserable to brave escaping Gaius' watchful eye.
As expected, the reply to his question was little more than a grunt.
"I-uh... I brought you something. Just a... token- you know, for service to the crown. It was Guinevere's idea really..."
Arthur had already felt awkward before Merlin started looking at him with that knowing smile and those blasted eyebrows- there must be some sort of blood relation between Gaius and his ward- and then there was the guilt.
Once again the servant had been injured protecting the warrior and Arthur still didn't know how to deal with the situation.
For now he'd just have to settle for making a small gesture.
"To replace the last one I gave you, since you went and ruined it."
He winced internally a bit- he had meant to be nice... but this was Merlin...
The invalid reached out and accepted the purple neckerchief, fingering the fabric that was so much finer than anything else he owned.
"Thangs Arthur" he said, voice deep and thick with congestion.
The two stared at each other in silence; the king wanting both to apologize and to run away simultaneously, the servant smiling gently as if he knew exactly what was going through the other's mind.
"Right. Well, I'll expect to be seeing you as soon as you're recovered- and on time for once!"
The grin widened.
"Ob course Ar-tur."
He coughed weakly into his blanket, brow pinching at the pain in his chest and throat.
"Feel better soon."
The king said softly, rushing out of the room before Merlin could see the concern on his face.
As he closed the door he heard an impressive sneeze followed by more grumbling, a brief pause, and a sound that resembled a muted trumpet.
Arthur froze.
He didn't...
He almost turned to confront his friend about his use of a royal gift, but decided against it.
Some things are better left unknown.