A few hours later he wakes up with a fever. He gets up and puts his robe and stumbles out of his room. All he hears is silence. He groans and holds his head leaning against the wall. He looks out the hall window and can see the smoke and haze from the battlefield miles away. He closes his eyes and slowly slides down to the floor. Nurse Hooper walks by and gasps, rushing over. "Your Majesty?"

"My head is on fire." He groans softly. She feels his forehead.

"Oh dear, you're burning up! We need to get you to bed right away." She leads him to his bed, helping him lay down. "I'll only be a moment." Molly rushes to the nurses station and grabs a cold wet cloth and some ice. She also grabs rubbing alcohol and ointment, then rushes back. He turns back and forth.

"It's so hot."

Nurse Hooper places the cool washcloth on his forehead and places the pail of ice next to his bed, then she takes a look at his arm. "Oh..it's what I feared. You've got a terrible infection from that sword. Luckily we caught it early", she exclaims before putting rubbing alcohol on another cloth. "This may burn. I apologize." She places the alcohol soaked cloth on the wound, biting her lip. He muffles a yell. "I know..apologies Your Majesty..but we must kill the infection."

He clenches his teeth, "Give me something to bite on." She takes an apple from the bowl near the door and hands it to him. "Too fragile. Get me a piece of wood."

"W-wood?"

"Yes!"

She hurries and grabs a piece that barricades the door. "Just don't chip a tooth." He bites down on it as she cleans the wound.

"There we go...almost finished. You're doing well."

He balls his fists and closes his eyes. She finishes wiping the gash with alcohol then soothingly applies ointment. He relaxes a bit and she smiles softly.

"It shouldn't take long for the alcohol to take effect within the infection. It should be gone by daybreak tomorrow." He nods slowly and drifts off to sleep. Molly wipes the sweat from his face gently and tucks him in, letting him rest.

A few weeks pass and Sherlock has been working hard in the battle field and in the castle. They've gained ground and have the upper hand in the war now. He comes in from a battle covered in grime and cuts. His mother helps him shed his armour and hands him a washcloth.

"We are making good progress! Your Father would be proud." Sherlock nods weakly and wipes his face. Queen Joy furrows her brow.

"Are you hurt?"

"A sword caught my side." He looks down at his bloodied shirt. "I'll be needed medical attention.

"Oh, Lord." She sends for the nurses right away. Nurse Hooper and three others escort him to the medical chambers. He lies back on the bed and looks at Molly, "Seems like we keep seeing a lot of each other."

She chuckles softly. "That's not exactly a good thing, Your Majesty. You're hurt."

"It's not bad."

"It's small but deep. More stitches. I'm sorry."

He nods softly and she has the other nurses assist her in stitching the wound. He keeps his eyes on her. She focuses and bites on her lip gently. When she finishes she looks up, meeting his gaze. She smiles. "All fixed up."

He nods softly, "Thank You."

"You're welcome Your Majesty. " She curtsies and bows.

"Would you mind becoming my personal nurse?"

"Oh." She blushes, feeling honored. "I would be honored, Your Majesty."

He nods softly, "Might I be moved to my bed chambers? This bed could be used for someone else."

"Yes, Your Majesty." She assists him to his chambers and lays him down gently, situating him on the lush pillows.

"Thank you Nurse Hooper." He gently kisses her hand. She flushes red.

"At your service, my King" she exclaims, while bowing.

"You need not call me King or Majesty everytime we speak."

"It is merely a title of respect, sir."

"Just call me Sherlock."

"Oh..uh..I don't believe I'm allowed sir. You're a King, therefore you should be respected as such..."

"Call me Sherlock when we're alone like this then."

"Alright...Sherlock." She smiles softly. He gently takes her hand

"And am I still to call you Nurse Hooper?"

She flushes red. "Y-you can call me Molly, sir...err...Sherlock."

He nods softly feeling her pulse, which flutters quickly beneath his fingers. He closes his eyes, "I should let you get back to work." He gently let's go of her hand. "Please have the maids polish my armor."

"Yessir..." she bows her head. Sherlock closes his eyes and Molly leaves his chambers, returning to tend the the other victims in the medical chambers.

King Sherlock takes a deep breath and scolds himself for acting too sensitive.