A/N: I think I'm going to give up on the hope that someday I'll be able to update before midnight. It's aproaching 1 AM, and I have to be up at 5. Sigh...could someone please come and dislocate my arm for me so that 1) it can have a legitimate reason to hurt instead of just hurting to make my life difficult and 2) so that I don't have to go to work in the morning? Although I suppose with my arm in a sling, I wouldn't be able to write, and thus I would fail NaNoWriMo for the third year in a row...and it would take me longer to finish this. Nevermind then.

Anyway, so this chapter is freaking long. It was a whole lot longer before, like well over 13,000 words long, and I still wasn't done, so I chopped it into two chapters. Therefore this fic will be 27 chapters long when it's finished, and depending how my Friday goes, I may update early :) I won't promise, but it's a definite possibility. If I do, it will likely be late friday night, early saturday morning, as Friday is my only day off this week.

This chapter has one of the largest sections of dialogue that I have ever written, and there's a possibility that some of you will like the first half of this chappie and some of you won't. It all depends, and that's perfectly fine. Everyone is entitled to an opinion, after all :) It was, however, a bit necessary to clear a few things up, because I'm a bit of an idiot and thought that I had mentioned something a few chapters back when in reality I hadn't (one of those cases where it was in my head but didn't quite make it onto the paper). So I hope it turns out alright. Just please don't attack the views outright (disagreeing is perfectly acceptable though) seeing as how I put a lot of myself into everything I write, and thus they are partially based on my personal perspectives. I merely wanted to reason out a few things.

Title: Healing Spells
Author: BeyondTheStorm
Rating: T for violence and bloodshed.
Characters/pairings: Only friendship here :) Lots of Merlin and Arthur, and quite a bit of Gaius.
Spoilers: Um...lets just say everything up through 2x07, just to be safe.
Warnings: Self-harm (though just mentions of it from now on), violence, and blood.

Again, this is the third to last chapter (despite what I said the last time). 27 will be the last one.

CHAPTER 25

When Arthur finally managed to stop coughing, no longer feeling like something was caught in his throat, he found himself face to face with three extremely worried and horrified stares. He settled back in his chair, trying to compose himself while at the same time trying to figure out why they were looking at him like that. Not one of them was moving or offering any sort of explanation, so he just stared back in complete and utter confusion.

"What?" he asked a bit defensively, because he didn't particularly like having three sets of eyes focused on him like that.

It was Merlin who finally spoke up, his voice soft and trembling.

"You…you were coughing."

He just stared at the warlock, incredulous, because yes, he had been, but he didn't see how that merited them looking at him like that.

"Yes. Your point being…?"

Not a one of them said anything, and the prince was starting to feel just a little uncomfortable under those stares. He was also starting to get rather irritated.

"Arthur," began Merlin in the same tone of voice as before, eyes filled with a fear that the prince didn't quite understand, "you were coughing."

He couldn't help but sigh in aggravation, because honestly, emphasizing it didn't make things any clearer for him. Why was that fact so important? If it was just Merlin, then he could write it off as him being his usual overly concerned self, but Gaius and Linneth were also watching him with expressions that did little to hide their fear.

"I swallowed wrong," he said, because clearly he needed to explain it to them. However, it didn't seem like any of them were convinced. He scowled, crossing his arms in defiance. "It was just a cough."

"Sire," said Gaius, his expression grave. "In Greenswood, I'm afraid there's no such thing as just a cough."

Still somewhat confused, he glanced between the three of them, mulling over what Gaius had said. He took in everything—the concern, the intensity, the trembling he had heard in Merlin's voice, every word that was said, the unguarded fear—and then tried to piece it all together into a conclusion that made sense, because this was really starting to grate on his nerves. Honestly, why were they so worried? They were all looking at him as if he were about to keel over at any moment, and…oh.

"How much do you know about the illness?"

"Not much. Gaius only told me about the symptoms. Apparently it starts out as just a cough…"

…Oh.

"I'm not sick," he stated, because he just wasn't. He had only swallowed wrong, that was all. There was no way he was sick. Apparently not a single one of them shared his belief, because they were still watching him, looking more sorrowful and sympathetic by the second. It was actually starting to make him angry, his eyes narrowing as he met their stares with a rather heated one of his own.

"Arthur…" began Gaius, his voice sad and close to pitying, and Arthur almost threw his arms up in exasperation but managed to rein in the urge at the last second (he needed to maintain some dignity, after all).

"Oh for God's sake, it was just a cough!" he shouted. "Stop looking at me like I'm dying!"

He abruptly stood up, almost knocking the chair over in the process. He turned away from them, unable to take it any longer. There was no reason for them to be acting like this, because he wasn't sick.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced through gritted teeth. He didn't wait for a reply before opening the front door and slamming it closed behind him.

In the kitchen, all of them simply watched as the prince left, unable to say anything. Not a one of them moved, the spell book still open in front of them and Arthur's cup still lying on its side, the water slowly soaking into the wood.

It was Gaius who made the first move. He slowly stood up and closed the book, making sure to remember what page the potion was on. He then pushed it aside and walked over to retrieve the cup, placing it with the rest of the dirty dishes from their dinner. He didn't move back to the table and instead remained where he was, watching silently as Linneth slowly sank into the seat he had vacated, her eyes focused on the table and her hands wrapped in the fabric of her dress. There was guilt in her expression, a guilt far heavier than before, but at the moment it was Merlin who concerned him more.

The warlock was completely still, his eyes no longer wide but no less fearful. He looked exhausted and drained in every way, something beyond the physical exhaustion he had been contending with over the past few days. This was something bone deep and weary, stemming from fear and anxiety and helplessness where one's only options were to either give in to panic or fall into despair. It was a very melancholy expression that had set itself upon the warlock's face.

He watched the boy silently, watching as his hands clenched and unclenched from where they were resting on the table. Eventually he clenched them so hard that his knuckles turned white, and when he showed no signs of relaxing, the physician finally made his way back over, placing a hand on his ward's shoulder.

"Merlin," he began, wanting to comfort the boy but for once not knowing quite what to say. He felt some of the tension leave the warlock, but the way his body simply slumped forward in dejection wasn't at all a relief.

"He can't get sick," he said in nothing more than a whisper. "He just can't…"

He squeezed the boy's shoulder gently, both to try and sooth him as well as earn his attention.

"There is no way to know for certain whether he's ill or not," Gaius said softly, hoping to placate the very shaken young warlock. "We'll have to keep an eye on him, but there's no point in jumping to conclusions. Worrying about it won't help any."

Merlin said nothing, only lowered his head further, and Gaius swallowed hard and took a deep breath, knowing that none of them wanted to hear what he was about to say but at the same time knowing that it needed to be said.

"If it turns out that Arthur is indeed ill…" he began, only to be cut off by Merlin.

"He's not sick," the boy insisted, and even though his tone was soft and wavering, the physician could hear the anger and determination, the fierce need for it to be true, as if will alone was enough to make it so.

"Merlin, we both knew that he would be at risk if he were allowed to stay here. Arthur knew that as well, and unlike us, he has no magic to protect him. It has always been a possibility, but even if he has fallen ill, it will likely be a while before all the symptoms set in. We still have plenty of time, Merlin, so try not to worry too much. Nothing is for certain yet."

Under his hand he felt the warlock relax just a little, and he hoped that the boy would take his words to heart. Worrying wouldn't help anything, and stress was the last thing Merlin needed to deal with. It would only make things worse and would likely impair his already painfully slow recovery. Not only that, but if Merlin were to start treating Arthur as if the prince were about to fall gravely ill at any moment, they would have an extremely irritated young man to deal with. Arthur wasn't a fan of being fussed over, much like Merlin. If they were to be cautious around the prince, he would likely just get angry with them, and that certainly wouldn't help matters any.

It was at that moment that the door opened and the topic of their conversation walked back in looking at least somewhat less frustrated. He was still scowling though.

"I'm turning in for the night," he announced as he made his way into the kitchen, stopping next to Merlin. He simply stared at the warlock until Merlin finally raised his head, meeting Arthur's impatient stare. Clearly the prince was waiting for something.

When Merlin didn't say anything, only stared back in slight confusion, Arthur heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes before grabbing the boy by his arm.

"Come on, get up," he said, pulling the warlock to his feet. "You look exhausted, and I know there's no way you can make it back on your own."

Gaius simply stood back and watched the two of them, and he was relieved to see a bit of defiance seep into his ward's expression. The boy pulled his arm out of Arthur's grasp.

"I'm fine," he stated. "I can walk by myself."

All it took was one step for his body to betray him. He barely managed to keep from falling, but it was clear he wouldn't be able to stay that way for long. That was all Arthur needed to prove his point, and without even bothering to ask, the prince grabbed hold of the warlock's arm and slung it over his shoulders, letting Merlin lean against him.

Gaius simply looked on in slight amusement as the two of them walked back towards their room, neither one saying a word, letting their obvious exasperation with each other speak for them. He couldn't help but smile at the sight and pray that things would stay this way. He knew that both of them were likely anxious, each for their own reasons, because as indignant as Arthur had been, there was no way this incident couldn't have affected him. He had to be at least a little concerned about the possibility of falling ill. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but they couldn't take any chances. They were going to have to keep an eye on him for now.

When he heard the door close on the other side of the house, Gaius turned his attention to Linneth. She had yet to say a single word, her gaze still lingering on the table even though her eyes were distant. She was completely still, not a single tremor even though her hands were fisted tightly in the front of her dress, her whole body taught and tense. There was so much shame and guilt, her expression nothing short of tormented.

He had been able to console Merlin, even if only a little, but he got the feeling that whatever was plaguing Linneth went much deeper.

"Linneth," he began softly, not wanting to startle her, "what is it?"

"…This is all my fault," she said softly, voice just barely above a whisper. "It's my fault, and yet they aren't blaming me. It would be so much easier if they blamed me. I don't understand why they don't."

"You are not the one who started this. You tried to stop the illness. What happened was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. You didn't mean for any of this to happen."

She only hung her head further, her voice coming out just a bit louder and a bit more broken.

"I should have stopped him. I should have tried harder, convinced him to remove the spell. I should have asked him to stay with me, because deep down I knew it was wrong. I knew, but I…I wanted them dead. I had to watch my sister burn, watch as my mother wasted away because of it, and over the years I have watched so many people die knowing that I could save them if it weren't for those stupid laws against magic. I wanted the Pendragons dead, and so I didn't stop him from leaving. I didn't stop him, and now look…look at what that decision has done. I have caused so much harm, and I don't understand how you can't blame me for it."

Gaius said nothing, only watched as the young woman before him became so tense that she finally started trembling, her words echoing around him. He hadn't allowed himself to truly think about it, to let the events of the past two months really wash over him, but as he took it all in, he found himself almost marveling at how everything had come full circle. So much had happened, all of it leading back to that day in the forest, and apparently it went back even further, back to Linneth making the choice to let her father leave.

Unknowingly, she had set everything into motion.

If she had convinced her father to stay, then none of this would be happening. There would be no illness. No one would be dying. None of them would have ever even come to Greenswood. Arthur wouldn't be potentially ill, Merlin wouldn't be injured, there would have never been any need to leave Camelot, and his ward would not have sustained so many wounds from practicing healing magic. None of it would have ever happened. There would be no illness and Linneth's father would still be alive.

But…if that were the case, then Arthur would have never found out about Merlin. The warlock would still be keeping secrets and the prince would still believe that magic was evil.

In just two months, the two of them had grown so much. There were no more secrets, no more lies, no hiding, and Arthur was learning to listen, to forgive, to understand. So much progress had been made, and to think that one decision had been the cause and that all of it could have so easily never happened…

It had all come down to one choice, as most things often did. Just one simple choice: to seek retribution or to let it go.

This was how the world worked, how vengeance worked. It was a cycle, always leading back and never ending. It would all lead back to something, to one single choice, if one were to take the time to trace the events to their origin. No one was safe from vengeance, because hatred and grief were blinding and consuming, and revenge was something that wasn't easy to escape. Retribution was a thirst, one that wasn't easily quenched and was never simple to ignore. It was not something easy for anyone to let go of, especially since so much of it could be traced back to The Great Purge, to Uther and Nimueh and the bargain they had made, one that neither had been able to foresee the outcome of, one soaked in blood and blame and unending hatred.

It was a very old and incredibly bitter cycle, making it all the harder to break, and all of them were caught up in it.

"Linneth," he began, hoping that she wouldn't react badly to the question that needed to be answered, because if there was any way to free them from this, he had to know the truth, "how much do you know about the circumstances of your father's death?"

Her whole body tensed, her eyes widening, but she didn't raise her head nor did she appear to be angry with the extremely personal and painful question.

"Not much," she said. "I saw the moment he died, but nothing before or after. I'm afraid my scrying isn't very good. All I know is that Merlin killed him because he tried to kill Arthur. I understand now that Merlin did what he had to in order to protect Arthur, and I…I don't blame him for it. Not anymore. Arthur isn't like his father. If I had known, I…I never would have…"

She took a deep breath, most likely to calm herself down as she seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I wanted him to pay for taking my only family from me and for doing it for the sake of a Pendragon. I thought that Arthur was no different from his father, that he hated our kind, would persecute us, and that it wasn't fair that I had to lose my only family for his sake. I wish…I wish I had known earlier that he was different. I wish I could've somehow known moths ago. If I had, I would have stopped father from leaving."

Gaius couldn't help but sigh at that, because he knew it would have been impossible for multiple reasons. It was time to put her a little more at ease, because even if it was her initial decision that had set everything in motion, the blame was not entirely hers, and in the end, some good had come from it.

"That would have been impossible," he told her gently. "Linneth, that battle with your father was what changed Arthur's mind about magic."

This time she froze in shock, finally lifting her head, snapping her attention to Gaius. Her eyes were wide, shining with unshed tears, but instead of shame and remorse there was only pure and honest surprise and disbelief.

"What…how…?"

"When Merlin stepped in to protect him, he used magic to do so, and Arthur saw him do it. Until then, he hadn't known about Merlin, and although Arthur's views have always been more lenient than Uther's, he still held the belief that magic was evil. Merlin revealed himself knowing that it could very well cost him his life, and although he and your father were unaware at the time, Arthur bore witness to everything. He heard every word they said, and in the end, he chose to trust Merlin, swore that he would keep his magic a secret. Ever since that day, he has been trying to learn as much as he can.

"Despite all the harm and all the pain that has come from your actions, a great deal of good has also been done. The war against magic that began with The Great Purge will now end with Arthur. Your father wanted to make this kingdom safe for you and other sorcerers, and although he lost his life in doing so, that is exactly what he has accomplished. One day, when he is ready, Arthur will be king and the ban on magic will indeed be lifted."

For a moment her eyes brightened, understanding dawning on her, but it was overshadowed rather quickly, replaced with a sad and somewhat distressed look.

"If he survives that long," she said as she began to wring her hands. "I have heard many rumors of the kinds of things that happen in Camelot. My father was not the first to make an attempt on Arthur's life, and he will certainly not be the last."

"Merlin will make certain he survives…by whatever means necessary."

"If…if Arthur does get sick…what will he do?"

"I don't know, and I pray we don't have to find out."

"…This could all be over by now if I hadn't attacked him. I knew his magic was powerful, that perhaps there was a chance that he'd be able to help. Even though I was only certain of it after I faced him, it doesn't change the fact that I had considered it…and yet I attacked him anyway. I almost destroyed the only hope we had of fixing this. I almost killed him, Arthur's friend and your ward, and yet not one of you seems to blame me for it."

He had known that eventually it would come back to this, because that had been her original intent when speaking to him. She seemed so incredibly lost, unable to comprehend why she had been forgiven for something like this. He couldn't truly speak for Arthur or Merlin, although he had a good idea as to their reasons for it. After all, not a one of them was innocent, because all of them had taken lives for one reason or another, and sometimes those reasons were personal and selfish regardless of the outcome of their actions. Good and evil were concepts, nothing more, and from one perspective an act could be good and from another it could be evil. That was how things worked, and that was why revenge was such a complicated thing.

"Linneth," he began, making sure he had her complete attention, "although I can't truly speak for Arthur and Merlin, I do believe I understand why they forgave you, at least to a certain extent, as I'm sure part of their reason is the same as my own. I have seen what grief and hatred can do to a person, how the need for retribution can blind a man and twist his reasoning until his actions become irrational and cruel in the eyes of others. Many would deem a man so consumed by revenge as someone evil, and yet he would not believe it to be so, for in his eyes, his actions would be just. Your father was no different, and in some ways, neither are you.

"All people are self-righteous to a certain extent, believing their actions are justified, even if it may not seem that way to others. Everyone has a tendency to rationalize their actions, because no one likes to admit when they're wrong. It's human nature, and it is what makes a thing like vengeance so hard to give up. I have watched it slowly consume an entire kingdom and countless people I considered to be friends. I know how blinding it can be to one's reason, and so I also know how difficult it can be to give up.

"To you, it may not seem as if you've done much, but you chose to stop. Regardless of your reasons for doing so, it is not an action to take lightly, for I know many who are incapable of letting go of their grief. I believe this is also in part why Arthur has chosen not to blame you. He has seen so many people die in their pursuit of revenge against his father. He understands the kind of pain born from it, and now that he is no longer ignorant to the truth, he's trying to change things. He wants to put an end to it, and blaming you after you had chosen to spare Merlin would not have helped matters any. That is most likely why he chose to forgive you."

For a long while Linneth didn't say anything. She didn't even move, still staring up at him, letting the words sink in. He could only hope this would help her, because out of all of them, it seemed she was taking this the hardest. Guilt was a heavy burden, one they all understood, as was grief and anger and helplessness. Not one of them could claim to be untouched by some aspect of vengeance, because regardless of the intentions behind their actions, there would always be someone hurt by them. That was simply how the world worked, something that had to be dealt with gradually. There was no other way.

"…I'm sorry," she finally said, her voice still soft but no longer self-deprecating. "And thank you."

Linneth very slowly got up from the table, heading for the front door. She opened it and then paused, a small smile on her face, a look that suited her far better than guilt.

"I'll head to the infirmary. Leon and Kay have done more than their fair share of the work. I'll return in the morning."

He nodded in acknowledgement and watched as she left the house, closing the door quietly behind her. He took a glance around the kitchen, knowing that there were things that needed to be done, but he decided that it could wait until the morning. After everything that had occurred in the last few hours, something as mundane as cleaning off the table and washing the dishes just didn't feel all that important. There was no point in worrying about any of it for now. Instead he put out the candles and walked to the other room where his bed was waiting for him. It was time for a good night's rest, a chance to put all concerns aside even if only for a few blessed moments.

When morning came, he would deal with everything that had to be done. For now, sleep was all that mattered. The rest would come later.

"We should be able to find these," said Leon as he glanced over the list Gaius handed to him. "How much do you want?"

"As much as you can possibly bring back," said the physician. "There is a clearing not too far into the forest with three white willows. According to Linneth, most of the herbs can be found there."

"Alright. We'll bring back as much as we can."

"Thank you."

He bowed to the knight before heading back into the infirmary as Leon went off to find Kay. It was a good thing that most of the ingredients for the potion were common and well-known. He and Linneth had sent everyone they could off into the forest to find what they needed with Linneth herself taking care of the more difficult herbs to locate. Even though the herbalist wasn't from Greenswood originally, she still knew the surrounding forests well. Plus, she had her magic to aid her.

He quietly made his rounds throughout the building, looking over each person to try and figure out what stages they were all at. As soon as it was ready, he would start distributing the potions, and he could only hope that they would all hold out long enough. Five people had passed the other day, another the day before, and two more had fallen ill. It seemed that only those with magic were safe as well as a few others who were either just extremely lucky or naturally immune. He was simply grateful that neither Leon nor Kay had fallen ill, as the two of them had truly been a godsend in the past few weeks. Without them he wasn't sure how he could have managed to handle both the infirmary and Merlin.

As for the warlock, he had kept his word and woken the boy in the morning only for him to groan and complain that it was too early, something that was both amusing and a bit aggravating. He hadn't even bothered trying to stop the prince from dumping a cup of cold water onto the warlock's head, something that had indeed managed to wake him up. He would have to remember that in the future, even if it would earn him a glare from his ward.

After making sure both boys had something to eat and would be alright without him there, he had ordered them both to stay inside while he and Linneth dealt with making the potion. Neither of them had been happy with the arrangement, but he couldn't risk sending either of them out to help. Merlin was better than before, finally able to move around without stumbling, but his wounds were still healing and his magic was still a bit weak. He didn't want the boy to overexert himself, and so for now it was safer to keep him inside.

As for Arthur, he just wanted to be careful with him for now. The prince hadn't shown any further signs of coming down with the illness, but he had learned early on that that didn't mean anything. It could come on gradually or very suddenly, and some people passed within days while others lasted weeks on end. It all simply depended on the person and how severely the magic chose to infect them. Until the potion was made and Arthur was forced to drink it, he would not allow the prince to wander around the town. It was for his own good.

It was just too bad that he didn't seem to think so.

"I don't understand why I have to stay here with you," said Arthur, his words nothing short of a grumble. Merlin only sighed in response, because this was at least the third time now that Arthur had complained about having to stay inside. In some ways it was understandable since Arthur really wasn't the type to enjoy sitting around doing nothing, but at the same time that's mostly what he'd been doing that entire week that the warlock had been unconscious. He couldn't imagine that sitting by his bedside for hours on end could have been all that enthralling, and yet the prince had put up with that. Surely he could manage to keep himself entertained for half a day.

"I mean, it's not like you need to be looked after anymore. You're just going to sit there and read. You'd be fine on your own. I should be out there helping, and yet I'm being forced to stay inside and do nothing. This is ridiculous."

He glanced up from his spell book, taking note of the very irritated prince across from him. He knew for a fact that Arthur was aware of why Gaius had done what he did. They'd had a discussion about it earlier, and the prince certainly hadn't liked the arrangement then either.

"Gaius is just being cautious," he told him, earning him yet another glare (five in less than an hour. Surely that was a record).

"No, you're all just being paranoid," said Arthur. "I'm not sick!"

"You don't know that for certain, and until we can find out, you need to be careful."

"We've been here for three weeks. Surely if I was going to get sick, it would have happened by now. I feel perfectly fine!"

Merlin simply gave him a look before going back to his spell book, determined to finish reading the section on healing. This way, if something were to go wrong again, Gaius wouldn't be able to yell at him for not having done his research. That and he was somewhat curious to see if there were other consequences he didn't know about. There probably were, and so it was best to make sure he knew what he was dealing with before trying anything else.

There was a sigh from across the table before Arthur got up, shoving his chair a bit harder than necessary. It was understandable to a certain extent. The prince needed ways to vent his frustration with the whole situation. He wasn't one to enjoy being fussed over (something they both had in common).

Also, even if Arthur would never admit to it, he imagined that the prince had to be feeling something in regards to possibly being ill. Somewhere there had to be a hint of fear in him, because they were all aware of what the illness could do to a person. It wasn't at all a pleasant way to die, suffering all the while and helpless to do anything about it.

All he could do was pray that it wouldn't happen, that Arthur wouldn't get sick, and if he did, then hopefully it would take a long time for the symptoms to develop.

Arthur could not die. He would never allow it, no matter what the cost.

"Where are you going?" he asked, glancing at the retreating prince.

"To get my sword. It needs to be sharpened, and seeing as how you clearly aren't going to do it, I may as well take care of it myself."

He scowled, wanting to tell Arthur that he would have done it if he'd actually been told to and that just because he had magic didn't mean he could read minds, but he decided to just keep his mouth shut instead. Arthur was already irritable, so there was no reason to go and make him more so. Besides, this would at least give the prince something to do so that he wouldn't keep bothering his servant by complaining about the situation.

It didn't take long for Arthur to come back and once again take his seat at the table. The two of them fell into a companionable silence, the soft metallic sound of a sword being sharpened the only thing between them. It was almost peaceful, relaxing even, but the serenity was quickly shattered with a cough. Just one, but it was enough for Merlin to look up from his book, his heart clenching at what that simple act could potentially mean.

When Arthur's eyes met his, the prince suddenly looked even more irritated than before. His expression twisted into one of anger, and Merlin got the feeling that if Arthur had been holding something less dangerous that he probably would have thrown it at the warlock. Instead he just slammed them both down on the table.

"Will you stop looking at me like that?" he yelled.

"Arthur…"

"For the last time, Merlin, I am not sick!"

Merlin knew from experience that it was terribly unwise to say things like that, because despite popular belief, the two of them really weren't all that lucky. So naturally the moment those words left his mouth, Arthur coughed again, and this time it was more than just once. He placed a hand over his mouth, leaning forward much like the night before, only this time…he didn't stop.

Merlin dropped his book and ran over to Arthur just as the prince pitched forward out of his chair, falling to his knees with only one arm to brace himself with. His whole body was convulsing with each cough, and it would probably only be a matter of time before he collapsed entirely.

"Arthur!"

The warlock dropped down next to his friend, panicking and completely unsure what to do. He placed one hand on the prince's back and could feel each and every racking cough. He tried to think of something, but there weren't any spells that could help with this. He couldn't use magic to help Arthur, but he had to do something because there was no way the prince was getting enough air with how harshly he was coughing.

Merlin knew he needed to get Gaius. The physician would surely be able to do something. However, he wasn't supposed to leave the house, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave Arthur alone like this. He had to get Gaius but he couldn't leave, and he had no idea what to do about it.

When the arm Arthur was using to support himself gave out and he fell fully onto the floor, the coughing finally began to subside, leaving the prince gasping for the air he had previously been denied. He looked exhausted as he lay there, and he didn't appear to have any intentions of moving from where he'd fallen. Eventually he stopped coughing altogether, but he was still far from being anywhere near "okay."

"Just stay there," said Merlin gently as he got to his feet. "I'll get Gaius."

There was no reply, and that more than anything caused him to really start worrying. If Arthur had been even remotely alright, he would have commented on the fact that Merlin was ordering him around, or he would have berated him for trying to leave the house after being told not to. However, the prince didn't say a word; he didn't even turn to look as the warlock threw the door open and ran outside, heading straight for the infirmary. He knew that he was likely going to be chastised by Gaius, but he didn't care. Helping Arthur came first.

Arthur would always come first.

It was a very petulant looking prince that Gaius found himself examining. Thankfully he was also very silent, allowing the physician to do what was necessary even if he obviously didn't like it.

It had been a very frantic warlock that had burst into the infirmary, startling most of the volunteers as well as Gaius. There hadn't been time to berate the boy for his recklessness because he had immediately understood why Merlin had come running. After leaving one of the volunteers in charge, the two of them had gone back to the house as quickly as possible only to find that Arthur hadn't moved an inch. He had looked tired and had been breathing rather hard, taking the time to calm his body down.

Together they had managed to help him to his bed, the prince recovering a little more with every step, and once he had finally gotten his breathing back under control, he had made it a point to scowl at both of them (and whether it was because he didn't like to be proven wrong or still believed they were overeating, Gaius wasn't sure, and it was unlikely he'd get an answer).

As soon as they had gotten Arthur onto his bed, the physician had immediately forced his ward into a chair. He knew that once the fear left him and his body calmed down, Merlin would most likely collapse. Other than walking around the house, he hadn't done much moving as of late, and running across town would have been beyond his physical limits had it not been for the sheer desperation in him.

He could see the warlock watching as he checked over Arthur, making sure his pulse was steady as well as his breathing, checking for any signs of a fever or loss of feeling as well as any swelling around his throat. The prince clearly didn't like any of it, but he wasn't voicing his objections nor was he making the process difficult. He was simply scowling at the ceiling, clearly unhappy about the whole thing.

When Gaius finished, he pulled away with a sigh, looking down at the prince.

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong aside from the coughing," he said, making sure he had the attention of both boys. "If this is a sign that you're falling ill, then the symptoms are developing very slowly. That could always change, but for now you just need to be careful. Don't do anything to overexert yourself."

"Alright," Arthur sighed, clearly irritated and still avoiding looking at either of them.

Gaius turned towards Merlin and was immediately grateful that he had been able to force the boy to sit down. He looked tired, his skin pale and his breathing too deep to be considered normal. It really had been reckless of him to run that far and that fast when his body was still recovering. His normal amount of energy would likely return in a couple of days, but until then he had to take things slowly.

"Both of you should get some rest," he said. "I'll return in a few hours with something to eat. Neither of you are to leave this house unless there's an emergency, understand?"

"Yes, Gaius," said Merlin as the boy got up and stumbled the short distance to his bed where he promptly collapsed onto it. The only response he got from Arthur was a shrug followed by a sigh, but he would take what he could get. He was certain they'd both listen, at least for now.

It was with a troubled heart that the physician made his way back to the infirmary, hoping that the next few days would prove his fears unfounded.

Merlin stared at the small glass vial in his hands, the liquid inside a deep, clear green color and as thin as water. There was so little of it, barely enough for one swallow, but it looked exactly like what he'd seen in his book.

This was the thing that would help save them.

It had taken Linneth most of the day after having returned to make up a batch, but thankfully it was a rather large batch. She would be making the rest tomorrow. What she had made was being distributed to the people with the worst symptoms while the rest would receive it later. They would also be sending some out to the surrounding villages, because they had received news that some villagers were developing the same set of symptoms and nothing could be done about it. The illness was spreading, and so they needed to try and slow it down until it could be dealt with properly.

The vial he was playing with was supposed to be for him, because Gaius had decided that they were all better safe than sorry and had therefore made everyone who was still healthy drink one. However, he had seen the face that Arthur had made after being forced to take it, and so he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to subject himself to that kind of torture. He was certain he'd be alright without it since his magic would protect him, but he was also certain that if he didn't drink it, someone would make him.

With that thought in mind, he uncapped it and downed it in one swallow. It burned on the way down, and it was by far one of the strangest concoctions he had ever tasted. Surely he had tasted worse things in his life (he had Gaius to thank for that), but it was still rather terrible. Thankfully it didn't burn for long, and the taste actually went away on its own shortly after, but it definitely wasn't something he wanted to repeat.

He only hoped that it was as effective as it was disgusting, because he still needed more time before his wounds would be completely healed and his magic back to its full strength. Hopefully everyone would be able to hold out that long.

When the next day came, it turned out to be much like its predecessor. He and Arthur were forced once more to remain inside with hourly check ups by either Gaius or Linneth. This time around it was mostly because of Arthur. After what had happened, it was decided that the prince would definitely be remaining inside where it would be easier to keep an eye on him, a task that had been assigned to Merlin. He certainly didn't mind though. It gave him plenty of time to read even if he did have to listen to Arthur's occasional complaining.

In the end though he had abandoned his reading and instead spent his time answering whatever questions about magic Arthur could think of. There was nothing else to do, after all.

The two of them ended up spending two whole days like that. Two days since Arthur had practically collapsed in a coughing fit. Two days since he had been forced to take that potion. In those two days, nothing had happened. Arthur had been fine, acting the same way he always did, and Merlin couldn't have been more grateful. Not only was Arthur apparently doing alright, but his own wounds had been healing nicely, the one on his head being reduced to only a scratch. It would take longer for the other three, but it wouldn't be too long before they too were gone. Five more days would probably be enough so long as nothing hindered his recovery again.

Things were once more looking up. He was healing, the potion had worked, and Arthur hadn't relapsed.

Everything was going to turn out alright.

Then the third day dawned, and Arthur woke up coughing.

Merlin was jolted awake, almost falling out of his bed, and when he caught sight of Arthur curled on his side, a hand over his mouth and his eyes shut tight, the warlock jumped up and was across the room in seconds.

"Arthur?" he called, his voice trembling a bit, but the prince was in no condition to answer him. He just kept coughing until his whole body was trembling rather violently with the sheer force of it, and instead of gradually abating, it only seemed to be getting worse.

Merlin panicked, not knowing what to do, and before he even realized it, he was screaming for Gaius. The physician came running, and the warlock was extremely grateful that he hadn't already left for the day, because there was no way he could have left Arthur like this.

"Sire," called Gaius, seeing if he could get the prince's attention at all, but Arthur couldn't seem to stop for even a second, and if it went on for much longer, he would eventually pass out due to a lack of air. He couldn't breath right while coughing continuously, each one harsh and most likely painful.

"Gaius, do something!" Merlin yelled, and he didn't particularly care if he sounded just a touch hysterical, because Arthur just kept coughing. The warlock was well beyond what most defined as "panicked."

"There is nothing I can do right now," said the physician. "There is something I can give him, but not until he stops long enough to take it."

The stream of coughing continued for what felt like forever before Arthur finally fell silent, his breathing deep and erratic as his body began to calm down. He hadn't passed out, thankfully, but his eyes were barely open and he was a bit pale. Gaius wasted no time getting what he needed from the other room, coming back in with a vial filled with what looked like water but was obviously something a bit more useful.

"Arthur," the physician began, making sure he had the prince's attention. "I have something that may help. Do you think you can sit up for a moment?"

Merlin watched his master give a brief nod before rolling onto his back and then slowly sitting up until he was resting against the wall. Gaius handed him the potion which he quickly downed, no complaints whatsoever.

"It should help a bit with the coughing, but it's likely to make you a bit tired. You should go back to sleep for now, sire. I'll be sure to wake you in time for lunch."

Once more the prince didn't say anything, only nodded, before he lowered himself back down, closing his eyes the moment his head hit the pillow. In no time at all he was asleep, his breathing deep and even once more.

Merlin just stood there, watching Arthur for any signs of something being wrong, before he looked over to Gaius. The physician was also watching the prince, the expression on his face a heavy one. The older man heaved a deep sigh before turning to the warlock, his expression sad and weary and so very resigned to a truth that none of them had wanted to acknowledge.

"He's ill, Merlin. I'm afraid we can no longer believe otherwise."

For a very brief moment, it felt like his heart might just stop.

He clenched his hands tightly at his sides, his attention going back to Arthur. He could feel his whole body tensing as he watched him sleep, and he began to worry his lip, completely unaware that he was even doing it. His mind was racing, unable to process much of anything aside from the fact that Arthur was getting sick and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It wasn't until a hand came down on his shoulder and gently pushed him down into a chair that he was pulled from his thoughts. He looked up at Gaius and then looked at the chair, because he was fairly certain there hadn't been one there before.

"You can stay here and watch over him," said Gaius softly. "I'll bring you something to eat before I leave. I'll be back around midday. Arthur should wake up by then."

"…Alright."

After a quick breakfast and a brief farewell, Merlin began his silent vigil, his mind still racing. All his thoughts began to blur together, and try as he might he couldn't stop them. He placed his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down without much success.

He still needed a few more days to finish healing. Just a few more days and he'd be able to put an end to this.

Arthur just needed to hold on until then.