A/N: Thank you SnidgetHex, Guest, GuestM, Meeeeeerlin, Buckhunter, and pallysAramisRios for reviewing!

Chapter 6

By the second morning, Arthur and Merlin had a rhythm worked out between them as they tended their sick friends. Those horrible veins were growing lighter and retracting from their faces and necks, and Arthur almost believed they had disappeared, until Merlin lifted up Percival's tunic and found them still wrapped all around his torso. It was progress, but not nearly what Arthur had hoped for by this point. He had never gone up such a persistent, insidious, and invisible enemy. He wished there was a way to get them all back to Camelot and to Gaius. Not that Merlin wasn't doing his best, but Gaius had more supplies and more knowledge and maybe could help.

But that wasn't an option. They were stranded and stuck with what they had.

Arthur brought more of the antidote over to Leon to give him another dose. Leon moaned and tried to turn his head away, but Arthur managed to get the draught down him. Leon swallowed and coughed, then opened his eyes. Arthur waited, hand still cradling the back of his head. Each of the knights had woken briefly at times, though they were rarely lucid. This time, however, Arthur was rewarded with a glimmer of recognition.

"Arthur." Leon's eyes blew wide and he clawed at Arthur's sleeve. "Morgana's here."

Arthur set the cup down out of the way and took Leon's grasping hand. "She's dead."

Leon sagged in relief, but his face swiftly scrunched up in mortification. "Forgive us, Sire."

Arthur sighed. "None of you are at fault here," he said firmly. "Tell me you believe me."

Leon shifted anguished eyes to his, then gave a small nod.

"Good. Now you just rest and continue getting better."

Leon tried to loll his head to the side to look to his left. "How are they?" he asked hoarsely.

"Hanging in there, just like you," Arthur replied.

Leon let out a shaky breath and fell unconscious again.

Arthur picked up the cup and went over to Merlin, who was mixing up more of the antidote. "Can't you just use your magic on all of them now?"

Merlin huffed. "Now you want me to use magic?"

Arthur scowled. "I thought you claimed to use it for good."

"I do!" He shook his head in vexation. "But I burned the curse out of myself, and it had only climbed up my arm at the time." He gestured sharply to the knights. "It's still too widespread in their bodies and I'm worried that trying to burn out the poison could kill them."

Arthur's shoulders sagged. He didn't want to risk that either.

So they just kept doing what they were doing—feeding them the medicine and broth when they could get things down and simply waiting.

Some of them did start to recover more, though they were all still very sick. Leon and Gwaine had longer periods of wakefulness and lucidity. Elyan remained the worst off, and Merlin had to give him twice as much of the antidote just to keep the poison from reasserting itself.

Arthur brought Leon a bowl of the stew and helped him sit up against a tree. While most of his shakes had subsided, his hand was still unsteady. Arthur kept a hold of the bottom of the bowl to support it as the knight sipped from the rim. Even holding his head up long enough to drink seemed to exhaust him, and Leon dropped his head back against the bark wearily. All of the knights were incredibly weak, and Arthur didn't know if that was from the poison or the fact that they'd been…well, not dead, but not alive for several days, which meant no food or water in that time.

Arthur lowered the bowl to give Leon a few moments to recover before he'd ply him again with more stew. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

Leon dropped his gaze to his lap. "Honestly? I don't know. Being that…mindless thing…" He broke off with a shudder.

Arthur reached out to squeeze his shoulder. "It's over. The antidote is working."

Leon nodded numbly. "I still feel so cold." He lifted his hand to look at the gray veins still branching out from beneath the bandage and up his arm.

"You're getting better though," Arthur insisted and pulled Leon's cloak up to tuck around his shoulders. He then picked up the bowl of stew again and prompted him to drink.

Leon managed a few more swallows before he needed another break.

Arthur glanced at Merlin on the other side of the grounds, then turned back to Leon and lowered his voice. "Do you remember that Merlin has magic?"

Leon's brow furrowed, then smoothed in surprise. "Yes. That's… Merlin?"

Arthur snorted. "I know. All this time, a sorcerer has been living right under my nose. Pouring my wine at dinner!"

Leon frowned. "I know most magic users are evil, but surely if Merlin meant you any harm, he would have done something by now."

Arthur huffed. Yes, he supposed that was true.

"Huh," Leon continued. "Some things make sense now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like all those strokes of luck we've had in battle, when tree branches would just randomly fall on an enemy. I mean, you have to admit it happens rather a lot." He shook his head in disbelief. "That must have been Merlin."

Arthur was honestly stunned by Leon's casual acceptance of this revelation. "Merlin says he's had magic all his life. And this doesn't bother you?"

Leon looked taken aback at the question. "Well, Sire…it's Merlin."

Arthur exhaled heavily. That was it, though, this was Merlin. And Arthur didn't know whether that made the fact that he had magic easier to swallow or harder.

"What are you going to do when we return to Camelot?" Leon asked carefully.

"I don't know. Magic is banned." He could feel the lack of conviction in his tone, though. It wasn't like he wanted to have Merlin executed for practicing sorcery.

"You are king now," Leon pointed out. "You can change the law."

"Not easily," he said, but it was a petulant protest at best. He'd already defied tradition by marrying a servant girl. Repealing the ban on magic wasn't within the realm of impossibility.

Leon's chin started dropping to his chest, so Arthur helped him lie back down, tucking the cloak snugly around his shoulders. He then got up and went over to Merlin, thinking about what Leon had said about strange occurrences during a battle that had saved them a time or two. Tree branches clobbering a bandit. A rock slide cutting off an enemy force.

"What all have you done with your magic exactly?" he asked bluntly.

Merlin paused his stoking of the fire and straightened, a pinch between his brows. "You really want to know?"

"Yes. You say you use your magic for me. How?"

"Well, how about saving your life countless times in a fight. Morgana's immortal army? I brought a magical sword that was capable of killing them so Lancelot and I could reach Morgana and Morgause and take them out. Oh, and the Great Dragon. I'm also the last dragonlord, so I was able to command it to leave Camelot alone."

Arthur gaped at him incredulously, unsure whether to believe a word of it. Because Merlin, really? Yet how could he be making this up after what Arthur had already witnessed?

"Have I done anything on my own?" he demanded.

Merlin scoffed. "I'm sorry, and what are the other knights to you, stand-in pieces? We work together. That's how we defeated Morgana; that's how we've claimed victory over every adversity. I didn't use my magic to overshadow you, Arthur; it was for you! It's always been for you!"

"Why?"

"Because."

Arthur fixed him with a stern glare. "That's not an answer."

Merlin huffed irritably. "Because you're the Once and Future King! You're the one destined to unite Albion, to bring peace. And I have pledged my magic and service to you."

Arthur's brows rose incredulously. "So, you've stuck around because of some prophecy?"

"No, because I believe in you!" Merlin shook his head. "Just like each of them do," he said, gesturing to their friends. "They followed you that day when we retook Camelot because they believed you would build a better world than your forefathers. And so do I."

Arthur just stood there, struggling to make sense of it all. "How could I not have known about any of it?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm good at hiding."

"Lancelot caught you."

"Yeah, but that was just a fluke," Merlin said with a dismissive hand wave.

Arthur shook his head. "So, all those times, you were the one who saved Camelot."

Merlin gave him a dorky smile. "I helped."

It was still so hard to believe.

"Don't forget getting stains out of Arthur's shirt," a frail voice interrupted.

Arthur and Merlin immediately abandoned their conversation and went to Lancelot, who lolled his head toward them. He was finally lucid, though obviously still very weak.

"Hey," Merlin said softly. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked languidly before answering. "Tired."

"I'm sure. Can you stay awake long enough to eat something? You really need some nourishment."

"I'll try."

Merlin got up and went to the campfire to quickly scoop some stew into a bowl, then brought it back. Percival made a noise that sounded like he was waking, so with an apologetic look at Lancelot, Merlin passed Arthur the bowl and went to check on the large knight.

Arthur set the bowl aside so he could help Lancelot sit up a bit, scooting in behind him to prop him up. He then picked up the bowl and held it up for Lancelot to drink from.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly after a few sips.

Arthur debated whether to have this conversation right now, but he needed to know and there was no telling when he'd get another chance.

"Merlin said you caught him using magic. How long have you known?"

Lancelot sighed. "Since the night I killed the griffin. It wasn't actually me."

Arthur frowned. "But I saw you throw the lance."

"Yes, but Merlin is the one who cast a spell on it so it would even work."

"You never told me," Arthur said, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.

"It wasn't my secret to tell."

Arthur supposed he could respect that. Lancelot was, after all, noble to the heart. His mouth turned down with another thought. "Is that why you left Camelot?"

Lancelot ducked his gaze to the side. "I wasn't going to take a reward for something I didn't do." He then looked up to meet Arthur's eyes. "Merlin has always been loyal to you. And he uses his magic for good, to protect Camelot, to protect you."

"And cleaning my shirts apparently," Arthur said wryly.

Lancelot's lips quirked, but then he coughed and his face scrunched up in pain and his breaths started becoming more labored.

"We'll talk about it later," Arthur quickly said. "You need to get a little more food down."

He adjusted his position slightly to elevate Lancelot a little more as he plied him with more stew before exhaustion claimed him again. He only got a couple swallows down before passing out in Arthur's arms.

Arthur's heart clenched to see his friends laid so low and still holding on by the barest thread. He gently eased Lancelot down and checked his heartbeat for his own peace of mind before moving away to let him rest.

And in the meantime, Arthur had a lot of thinking to do.