They continued in silence until they found an area in the woods large enough to fit two men and a campfire.
Arthur put Merlin down so he was resting against a tree and placed the bags right next to him.
Arthur went off a little ways to find some dry wood for the fire.
While Arthur was gone, Merlin forced himself to look through the bags Arthur had chosen to keep, to locate the cooking pot. Finding it, Merlin took that, a small bowl and a couple of spoons. Merlin put some dirt in the bottom of the pot. "Greot gecuman leccan. Gecuman gedrye waeter," Merlin whispered.
In seconds, the dirt had transformed into the clear water that now filled the pot. Merlin looked around. He was able to locate several plants and herbs, but knew he didn't have the strength to get up and collect them. Mentally, he summoned them. They zoomed towards him and came to rest in a little pile to his left.
Merlin got to work, crushing and cutting and dicing. He added them to the water in the pot and began mixing them into a stew.
Just in time, Arthur came back with the branches. He set them up in front of Merlin.
Merlin leaned forward and set to work trying to light the fire.
"Why don't you just use magic?" Arthur asked after he watched Merlin struggle with the fire. Arthur had seen the extent of Merlin's powers. He knew this had to be within his abilities.
"Force of habit," Merlin said. He hesitated then with a flash of gold, a fire flared up, engulfing both of them in flickering light and warmth.
With another flash of gold, Merlin sent the pot to hover magically over the fire so the stew could cook.
It was only a couple of minutes before Merlin poured the contents into a bowl. Instead of taking it for himself like Arthur had expected, Merlin sent the stew over to Arthur.
"Why are you doing this?" Arthur asked, motioning to his meal.
"Whether you want to believe this or not, you are my friend. I care about what happens to you and you need to keep your strength up," Merlin told him.
"What about you?" Arthur asked.
"It won't do me any good," Merlin told him.
Arthur studied Merlin for a moment. He was pale. Paler than Arthur had ever seen him. Paler even then when the dorocha had gotten to him.
"You need to keep your strength up to," Arthur said. he intently stared at a tree across from him to avoid Merlin gaze.
"There's no need for that. I'd rather know that you have enough," Merlin told him. "Eat it and sleep."
Arthur wanted to protest, but he knew how stubborn Merlin could be. Clearly being a sorcerer didn't change that. Arthur obediently ate. He watched as Merlin's eyelids shuttered, briefly closing before they snapped open. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me," Arthur warned.
"I won't, Sire," Merlin promised. "I'll have forever to sleep. I can make it one more night."
Despite Merlin's promise, Arthur couldn't sleep. Every couple of minutes he checked for the rise and fall of Merlin's chest and the occasional deep, ragged breaths he took.
Staying up all night gave Arthur far, far too much time to think about everything.
He thought about everything Merlin had done for him. He thought about where he would be without Merlin. And most importantly, he thought about why he cared that Merlin stayed alive. He couldn't lie to himself any longer. It wasn't about the answers he so desperately craved.
It was in the safety of the darkness with the comfort of the flickering fire that Arthur let himself realize the truth.
He was able to realize how often things had gone right when they should have gone disastrously wrong. It happened so often that he couldn't understand how he thought so many happy coincidences could happen.
Arthur wondered if he would even be considering this if Merlin hadn't saved him from Morgana. Probably not, Arthur realized grimly. Arthur probably would have banished Merlin from Camelot.
Merlin's actions had forced Arthur into a decision by taking away his time for thought. It took away the time he would ordinarily have had to really think about Merlin's powers and question him extensively. It made him think about what his life would be like without Merlin.
The more Arthur thought about it, the more ashamed he was of himself. Merlin was dying because of Arthur and how does Arthur repay him? By treating him like a parasite.
Merlin didn't deserve that. Arthur just had to look at all the times Merlin had saved him, to know that. Times that Arthur had accused Merlin of being cowardly or hiding behind trees or just being mysteriously absent when Arthur needed him and then appearing at the most inconvenient times. Right after all the trouble was gone. Arthur was starting to realize the trouble was gone because of Merlin.
Arthur sighed. He didn't know who he was trying to fool, but he wasn't going to deny it anymore. Merlin was good. It took Merlin being fatally wounded for Arthur to realize it, but Merlin was Arthur's friend no matter what he was.
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