No. 8: Coughing up a lung / pneumothorax / exotic illness / definitely just a cold
Whumpee: Elyan
(A/N: Yes, I know that there's too much modern medical knowledge in here… but that never stopped the show, eh?)
Arthur disagreed with his late father on a lot of things, but the merits of a good jousting tournament were not one of them. He had been hard at work lately, and he was finally ready to let off some steam. There wasn't anything like riding a horse at full-speed with a lance at your opponent, ready to unhorse them. Of course, he wasn't allowed to ride in this one; he hadn't practiced at all (damn those Council meetings) and as King, he had to officiate the tournament.
Knights from all over the realm were coming to participate, and Arthur wanted to make sure his knights were still the best. It was also the first jousting tournament for a lot of the knights: Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival were among those that showed the most promise with a lance, especially Elyan. His short structure and muscular build made him almost unbeatable in practice.
A knock on the door drove Arthur from his thoughts – it was Sir Leon with his new daily jousting report. Since Arthur couldn't afford to be out in the practice arena every day, Sir Leon had been making the trek over to Arthur's chambers to give him the daily practice update.
"Ah, Sir Leon! How are the knights looking today?"
Sir Leon bowed. "They're looking like their usual selves. No one's too nervous for the competition. Elyan unseated everyone on the Round Table so now no one will joust against him."
Arthur chuckled. "Good – the knights from the other realms arrive tomorrow, and the tournament's on Saturday. Just a few quick rides from here til then – we don't want to give away all of our secrets beforehand."
Leon bowed again, hurrying out to spread the good news and get his knightly chores done before his patrol left that night.
The rest of the week passed uneventfully, and before Arthur knew it, it was Saturday. Merlin woke him up early with a cheery "Rise and shine!" and Arthur stumbled out of bed, into his awaiting clothes and crown, and down to the jousting tournament he went.
The morning was full of the younger, untested knights. Slowly, each joust whittled away the competition, and by midafternoon, Arthur's Round Table filled the leaderboard. It was up to Ulfric of Northumbria, Percival, Elyan, Leon, and Marcus of Caerleon now.
Leon was to go up against Marcus now, and he got in a hit to the shoulder. Then there were four.
Ulfric won against, Percival and Leon, and soon it was time for the big match: Elyan versus Ulfric.
As Elyan's horse took off at a gallop, Arthur could sense his knight's fatigue. Elyan had been riding and jousting all day, and with it being his first tournament, he probably hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. Stride over stride brought the two knights closer together, and then Arthur's ears screeched with the sound of wood hitting metal as Ulfric hit Elyan straight in the chest. Elyan's eyes widened as he took in the shock of being hit at 30 miles per hour, and he fell into his gray stallion's mane. Merlin had been watching from the sidelines and grimaced, running to where the rest of the Camelot knights were taking Elyan gingerly from his horse.
As Arthur crowned Ulfric the champion, Merlin and Gaius were busy looking after Elyan in the tent. He already had a lot of tenderness and some bruising, and there was a hard lump where the rest of the bruises would show their true colors in the next few weeks.
"I'm fine, really," Elyan breathlessly had told them. "Just took me by surprise, is all."
After Gaius was satisfied with his initial examination, he and Merlin took their leave. "Keep an eye on him, Merlin," he warned. "I don't want to see him out and about for at least two days; I'm still not convinced about his chest." Merlin nodded, and went back to work. There was still a lot to do before the night's final festivities closed out the tournament.
Even though Merlin tried to keep an extra eye on Elyan at dinner, the dark-skinned knight had slipped out before he could even tell him good night. "He's just tired," Percival had said with a yawn, his own dark circles giving him away. "I think we all are, we didn't know what to expect."
The next morning, Elyan woke up feeling like a cart had run him over. He coughed and got some water from his bedside table. It still seemed dark. What time was it?
Getting up made him feel dizzy, so he fell back into bed. Maybe he just needed a few more minutes…
The next time Elyan woke up, he still felt strange. His head felt fuzzy and all of his limbs screamed. His shoulder hurt from hoisting the lance all day yesterday… but he lost, and if there's one thing he knew for certain, it's that you needed to show your face after a loss. Let them know they haven't beaten your spirit. With a cough, he slowly dressed, leaning against the wall for support. Another little dizzy spell hit as he walked toward the door, trying to mentally prepare himself for a day of training, patrol, and moving. Ugh. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do.
Exactly 12 hours later, Elyan fell back into bed, not even bothering to undress. Everything hurt – gods, it hurt so bad – and he couldn't stop coughing throughout the day. He had never felt like this before, like he couldn't get enough breath in his body. Maybe he was getting a cold, like Sir Finneas had gotten last week. He hoped so – at least, that's what he told Gwaine when the dark-haired knight shot him a look of concern after they got back from patrol. He had dismounted his horse when another dizzy spell hit, this time even longer than the ones before that. "Just a cold," he had said, forcing his face into a smile. He didn't know what was happening, but yesterday's loss still stung a bit.
It had taken him double the time to get to his chambers, too. He had to keep stopping in little alcoves and nooks as courtiers and servants scurried around him. He couldn't take a deep breath (why couldn't he take a deep breath?!) and he had to keep stopping to pant like a dog, trying to get enough strength to put one foot in front of the other. Anyone who dared to ask got the same answer: "just a cold".
Meanwhile, Merlin was finally done with Arthur's chores. A speech, some research about the quilter's guild, floors cleaned, laundry done, stables mucked, armor cleaned, and another belt hole created (seriously, how many pies could that one man eat), and he was tiredly on his way to Gaius's chambers when he ran into Gwaine. "Hey, Gwaine," he said with an easy smile. "How goes it?"
The usually cheery look in Gwaine's eyes were a bit dimmed, and worry creased in his forehead. "Have you seen Elyan?"
Merlin thought for a moment. "No, and Gaius didn't want to see him up for another day at least."
Gwaine snorted. "Right, well, he went on patrol with us today. And he doesn't look good."
Merlin was suddenly on alert. "What's wrong?"
As Gwaine filled Merlin into the coughing and dizzy spells, they powerwalked to Gaius's chambers together. Merlin got together some tinctures and bandages, and all three made their way to Elyan's chambers. When a knock didn't elicit any noise from inside, Gwaine busted in, a worried tone to his voice as he called, "Elyan? Can you hear me?" The unconscious form on the bed gave no notice that he could.
As soon as Gaius and Merlin gently moved Elyan to lay on his back, they knew something was wrong. His lips were tinged blue, as were his fingertips. Elyan groaned at the movement, but didn't give any other inclination that he was aware of the two fingers hovering over him, checking his temperature and heartbeat. Gwaine was pacing in the background, listening to the team working on his friend.
"His heart's beating too fast, Merlin. See if you can prop him up on these pillows to lighten his breathing." Elyan coughed a wet cough, and Gaius was able to catch some of the red-tinged spray on a piece of cloth. "His airway's irritated from coughing… Hmm…"
"What is it, Gaius?"
"Well, Merlin, I've only seen two cases like this before," Gaius started undoing the buttons, ties, and clasps that came with the knight uniform. "But both were hit in the chest, and" – he came to the final tie and saw the swirls of yellow, green, and purple on Elyan's chest. "And they couldn't get air. Their lips became blue, they coughed continuously, their hearts labored far too much until they couldn't anymore."
Merlin had a tense look on his face. "What was the cause? The blow yesterday?"
Gaius nodded. "What is the source of all air to the body?"
Merlin couldn't believe Gaius was quizzing him at a time like this. "The lungs."
"Exactly. This lung" – he pointed to Elyan's left side, which had been caved in a bit – "is not getting enough air."
Merlin gave him a knowing glance. "And what's the solution?"
Gaius returned the knowing glance, before asking Gwaine to go get some fresh water from the well. As the knight practically ran out of the room, Gaius closed the door. "You know what to do."
Now it was Merlin's time to stressfully pace. "I've never re-inflated a lung before, Gaius!"
"Trust your magic," was all he got in return.
Coming to a stop and taking a deep breath, Merlin closed his eyes. He put both hands on Elyan's side, and the air crinkled with static. The uneven flames in the fire grate cast weird shadows on the walls, and Merlin's hands pressed down even harder. Suddenly, Elyan gave a big, deep gasp, and crumpled back on the bed, his head hitting the bedpost. His breaths were deeper and even, and though the bruising was still there, his lungs were both filled.
Gwaine busted into the room, water pail sloshing with his bumpy steps. "Any change?"
Gaius started mopping Elyan's brow, keeping an eye on his breathing. "Yes, for the better. He should make a full recovery with time."
As Merlin and Gwaine hugged, Gaius and Merlin shared a knowing look. Yes, magic could be used for good – and it meant that they got their friend back.
-Fin-