A/N: Thank you SnidgetHex, GuestM Live, Buckhunter, suzieq1331, and Su26 for reviewing!

No. 27 Magical Exhaustion

"Hurry!" Merlin urged, ushering the Druids to move faster as they attempted to evacuate the camp before some hired mercenaries from Cenred's kingdom arrived to slaughter them.

Lancelot snatched up a bag that had fallen off an old woman's shoulders and propelled her forward. A younger Druid doubled back to help her. But then Lancelot caught movement coming through the woods in the rear.

"Merlin!" he shouted and drew his sword just as the mercenaries broke into the camp. Lancelot was the only warrior among them capable of defending the Druids, and he was vastly outnumbered.

Merlin abandoned caution and started throwing magic fire balls at the enemy, but it wasn't enough. They were on the verge of being completely overwhelmed when Lancelot felt a strange surge of strength course through him. He swung his blade up and blocked a blow with a resounding clang that juddered the other man's arm so hard he stumbled backward. Lancelot followed through with a stab to the heart, dispatching him in one move. He then spun to meet the others, cutting them down with a ferocity and swiftness that definitely felt like magic.

When the mercenaries were all defeated and Lancelot was left standing amidst the slain bodies, he wasn't even breathing heavily. Merlin gaped at him in astonishment.

"What did you do?" Lancelot asked.

"I didn't do anything."

One of the Druids made his way over. "I cast a spell to give you strength in battle."

"You did what?!" Merlin exclaimed.

Lancelot frowned; he wasn't sure what to feel about that.

"We must go," the man said, ignoring their incredulity.

It was true, they needed to flee this place, so Lancelot and Merlin shelved their concerns and questions as they all set off again. The Druids had a network of caves they kept stocked with supplies for when they needed refuge. Merlin and Lancelot followed, wanting to make sure they made it safely. But along the way, Lancelot started to feel like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks. His footsteps became heavy and lurching, and he started tripping over them.

"Lancelot?" Merlin queried in concern. He rushed over to help support him. "What's wrong?"

Black spots were encroaching on his vision, and Lancelot tried to shake them clear. "I don't know. I feel so tired suddenly…"

He stumbled again and would have fallen if Merlin hadn't been holding him up.

"That spell the Druid used," Merlin scowled. "It gave you strength but at a cost afterward."

Lancelot was too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to ask what that meant.

They made it to the cave and staggered inside. Lancelot was ready to pass out, but Merlin steered him toward a place he could properly lie down and helped ease him onto the ground. Lancelot couldn't believe how utterly wrung out he felt, and in the next moment, he finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Merlin sat beside Lancelot, watching worriedly as his chest continued to rise and fall. Other than that, he was completely dead to the world.

The Druid leader came over. "Thank you for your assistance today. Many lives would have been lost without you and your friend."

"You risked my friend's life instead," Merlin accused.

"It is true the spell I cast on him comes with a cost, but there was no other choice at the time. You both would have perished with us."

Merlin's jaw tightened unhappily. The Druid had a point, but the idea of casting a spell on his friend without consent rubbed him the wrong way.

Someone brought him some berries, and Merlin nibbled on them. Hours passed and night fell, and still Lancelot didn't wake. Merlin fretted over them being missed back in Camelot; they weren't supposed to have been gone this long.

Weariness dragged at Merlin, but he was afraid to take his eyes off Lancelot. He kept checking for a heartbeat several times as the night wore on until he finally relented and lay down himself to sleep.

When he woke in the morning, Lancelot was still out. He hadn't shifted at all, once more reminding Merlin of the dead. He was getting agitated and was about to confront the Druid leader again, but Lancelot finally stirred.

"Lancelot?" Merlin called anxiously as he scooted closer.

"Mmph." It took an extra long time for Lancelot to prize his eyes open, and he still looked exhausted.

"You okay?"

Lancelot blinked languidly. "Tired."

Merlin pursed his mouth and decided to help his friend sit up, see if that would help wake him up more. Someone attentive immediately brought him breakfast, and Lancelot very slowly ate it. He was moving sluggishly, which did nothing to alleviate Merlin's concerns.

"You ready to head home?" he finally asked an hour later.

Lancelot nodded and struggled to his feet. Merlin ducked in under his shoulder to brace him.

"We're going to need a story," Lancelot remarked as they started shuffling their way toward Camelot.

"We got ambushed by bandits and you were knocked unconscious for a while. Which is close enough to the truth."

Lancelot's brow furrowed. "Won't Gaius notice if I don't have a head wound?"

"Blunt force trauma."

He nodded slowly, then said, "I never want that spell cast on me again. The consequences from only a brief moment of strength isn't worth it."

Merlin nodded in complete agreement.