Hey! We're switching it up this fic with a little sick!Arthur. Usually, I'm all here for the Merlin whump but I thought of this little idea, and it won't get out of my head. As usual I own nothing of Merlin or the song, nor do I claim any rights to either. Hope you enjoy!

Title from "Blackbird" by The Beatles

Merlin hated seeing Arthur like this. He hated seeing him at anything less than one hundred percent, whether that be because of an illness or an injury. Arthur was meant to be up and around, cerulean eyes confident, wide, and alert. He was meant to be poised on the edge of his seat, ready to jump into battle at a moment's notice.

He most definitely was not meant to be lying in bed, sweat soaking his figure and breaths coming out short and ragged.

And Merlin hated it. He hated being the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth, yet not being able to heal his own husband's illness. He always had been rubbish at healing magic.

Merlin was currently curled up next to Arthur, stroking his sweaty hair off his forehead and rubbing his thumb over one of his hands. Despite everyone advising him to sleep somewhere else until Arthur recovered, lest he contract the illness himself, Merlin refused. He'd never left Arthur's side when he needed him most before, he wasn't going to start now just because the council feared what would happen if both of their rulers fell ill. Besides, Gaius was nearly positive Arthur would be perfectly fine. He just needed some rest.

So no, Merlin was not leaving his husband's side when he was so ill. Yes, he could still very well run the kingdom from within their chambers until Arthur got better. It was only for a few days after all.

Merlin fiddled with the blankets around Arthur, pulling them a bit higher as a shiver ran down Arthur's frame. The raven really had work to do. He had reports that needed to be read, paperwork that needed to be signed, maps that needed to be reviewed. Plus, he had all his duties as Court Sorcerer on top of the duties he had taken over for Arthur.

He just knew he wouldn't be able to focus on them, though. Better not to make decisions on behalf of Camelot's well being while his mind was elsewhere. Besides, most of the stuff could wait anyhow. He had more important things to worry about than the weekly grain reports.

Checking to make sure they were truly alone, and George wasn't lurking about somewhere, gods above know that he wouldn't announce himself, Merlin softly began to sing. It was something he secretly loved to do while he was doing his chores as Arthur's manservant, or even now as he worked through new land treaties as Prince Consort and Court Sorcerer.

It was something he only did when he was positive no one was around, though. He even rarely sang in front of Arthur, something that quite irritated the blonde who claimed he could listen to him sing for the rest of eternity and be content. No matter how many times Arthur told him he had a wonderful voice, he just couldn't bring himself to believe him. He still vividly remembered the time Arthur had walked in on him singing while scrubbing away at his chamber floors. Merlin had wanted to melt into the ground right then and there, but Arthur had stared at him like he had never seen something so beautiful. It both warmed Merlin's heart and made him horribly embarrassed at the same time.

He sang quietly, a soft, old folk song his mother sang to him when he had been ill as a child. Merlin stroked the king's warm cheek, their contrast in skin tones not slipping past Merlin. The warlock had always been pale but compared to the warm glow of Arthur's skin that somehow managed to be tan all year around, he was downright translucent.

While this was just something else for Merlin to be self-conscious about, it was also just another thing Arthur claimed to love about him. He said it made him look ethereal; it made him look like he was a being too wonderful for their world.

The memory of those words made the tips of Merlin's ears burn even now. By the Triple Goddess he loved his husband.

He couldn't lose him. The very thought had tears pricking up in the corners of the warlock's eyes.

So, he did what he could. He sang and sang until his voice was hoarse. And even then, he continued to stroke the blonde's cheek, love seated deep in his eyes.

0000

When morning came, Merlin, who hadn't even realized he had dozed off, woke to two cerulean eyes staring down at him. Merlin sat up with a start, grin already breaking across his features.

"Arthur!" he cried happily, throwing his arms around the blonde, sweat be damned. The king chuckled and returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm.

Merlin felt his forehead. "It seems your fever's broken!"

"It would seem it has. Perhaps it had something to do with the angel I heard singing to me last night." Merlin's cheeks blushed almost as red as Arthur's. He opened his mouth to deny it or shoot back a retort, but he was promptly cut off by the feeling of Arthur's lips on his.

Maybe he'd have to start singing for Arthur more often.

I hope you all enjoyed!