Almost Like Magic

The end of summer was less an end of something and always the start of other things.

Fall was the most important time of the year. It was when the leaves on trees began to change from green to yellow and orange and red and brown, marking the eventual coming of winter. It was when the first chill appeared in the air and the skies were often clear enough to see the heavens at night. It was when the harvest began and the crops that would see them through the winter were gathered and stored. It was when the sun fell behind the horizon quicker, leaving them with longer, darker days.

It was also, more often than not, the start of the sweating sickness.

A yearly disease and affliction which could be as simple as being under the weather for but a few days or it could be terribly deadly, liberally taking lives with no respect for persons or stations.

In years past, though not for some time, thank God, the sweating sickness claimed over half of the people who fell victim to it, and thus fall was also a time of fear and mourning.

This year, it seemed that the disease was continuing to be milder than in others. There was a general state of unwellness but deaths had been few and there was a cautious optimism that perhaps the people of Camelot would be spared from a difficult season. It would be well were that the case.

Morgana's brief reign of Camelot had done its share of damage and recovery was ongoing and difficult in many regards. Uther was no longer fit to rule, though efforts were certainly being made to hide that fact from the neighboring kingdoms lest they attempt to stir up trouble, and Arthur had taken on the role of prince regent in the absence of the king.

A role which was taking a heavy toll on him.

He was tired and burnt out most days, in a position of undeniable leadership (Arthur was essentially leading the kingdom now) but one that came with restrictions. Arthur was the appointed 'place holder', making decisions and managing responsibilities on behalf of the actual ruler. However, Uther was not absent from the kingdom in the sense that he had left to accept the invitation of another kingdom for treaty purposes or even just niceties – he was still here. He was physically present, confined mostly to his chambers where he was being cared for, but present. Arthur's position was a self-appointed one and whenever there was the stirring of a monarchial change, there was pushback and resistance.

While Uther lived, quite simply there were things which Arthur could not do and changes he could not enact without either Uther's approval or full support of the council. One was impossible and unfortunately there were members of the council who expected Uther to recover and return to his normal duties. To put it quite simply, they were uninterested in even the appearance of having been disloyal to the king in some way, even by showing loyalty and support to his son.

Given that Uther had been known to… overreact and even strip Arthur of his title as prince in previous circumstances, with the aid of a troll enchantment notwithstanding… it was a reasonable concern to have.

But it was making Arthur's life difficult.

It was no wonder that he had caught the sweating sickness this year.

The illness had come on quickly and hit him hard, if Gaius was to be believed. Leon had not personally seen Arthur for about four days now while he rested, but reports, offered by Lord Agravaine, were stating that while he wasn't necessarily improving right away, he also wasn't getting worse.

He was just sick.

It did nothing to make Leon feel better – and he wouldn't until word came that Arthur was indeed recovering. Sweating sickness took who it wanted and death was not restricted to the old or previously infirmed. It could take anyone, as it had taken Leon's grandfather when he was a boy. Eldred had been retired but Leon remembered him being healthy as a horse, full of life and grit, a true grizzled warrior that seemed bigger than life.

If the disease could take his grandfather, it could take anyone.

But Merlin was well trained and was able to put all his time and effort into caring for the prince and Gaius had seemed hopeful the last time Leon spoke to him, suggesting that Arthur was merely already exhausted when he'd caught ill and just needed additional rest and time to recover.

Leon had been willing to take his word for it – after all, Gaius had pulled off some miraculous recoveries in the past that had seemed impossible – up until right now.

He'd been on his way to the armory, having finished some reports and a nighttime stroll, and was taking the longer route through the Royal Wing, just in case he happened to be there when Merlin or another servant was giving or offering an update on Arthur's condition, when he stumbled upon the current scene.

Two of the on-duty palace guards, whose faces Leon recognized just because he made a point of knowing the men that kept watch over both the throne room and the Royal Wing of the palace on a regular basis, attempted to talk down a very confused, very delirious appearing Prince Arthur. Whether on purpose or just by coincidence, they'd backed Arthur into a corner but seemed unwilling to approach him further.

A wise move, since he was naturally armed with a sword.

It took every ounce of willpower that Leon had in him to not noticeably react. He kept his pace even and quiet, taking mental stock of Arthur as he approached, noting that he was in comfortable looking night clothes, though his sleep shirt damp with sweat and clinging to his skin. He was sweating but also shivering and he didn't seem to know where he was and Leon felt a pit of unease appear heavy in his stomach.

It brought back memories of his grandfather - the same sweaty state of delusion had preceded his untimely death.

"Gentlemen," he greeted, keeping his voice quiet and low. One of the guards – Ghislain – he remembered distantly, turned at the sound of his voice and something like relief flickered in his eyes. "What seems to be going on here?"

"Sir Leon," Ghislain greeted, briefly snapping to attention. Leon didn't really notice, focused on Arthur who was watching the other guard, a red headed man by the name of Rand, with open distrust and all the while adjusting his hand position on his sword for easier use. "The prince – we came upon him in the halls and – well, he isn't well." He said, gesturing helplessly. "We tried to offer to help him back to bed but – he's… not in the right mind, Sir."

Leon nodded, taking a step forward and placing a heavy hand on Rand's shoulder, immediately drawing him back a pace or two. "Stay out of his space." He murmured quietly, gesturing to Arthur. He was tense, glaring at all three of them.

"Where the hell am I?" Arthur demanded in a tone that suggested he'd already asked the same thing of the guards prior to Leon arriving. "Why did you bring me here? This – I wasn't, this isn't right."

Leon lifted his hands in a gesture of peace, though his heart was beating rather fast now. No way was he going to draw a weapon on Arthur – not when he was weak and sick. But he wasn't stupid enough to think the prince being sick meant he was any less deadly with a sword.

"Your Highness," he said in a gentle tone and Ghislain and Rand seemed relieved to let him take over and try to talk sense into the prince. "You're in Camelot. You've been unwell. I can assist you back to bed, if you'd like."

Arthur shook his head, sweaty strands of hair falling into his bloodshot eyes. "You're lying. I… I would know my own castle." He insisted adamantly, followed by a harsh bout of coughing that seemed to further exhaust him. Arthur stumbled slightly into the wall, exhaustedly allowing it to support him a little so that he could stay on his feet. He glared weakly at them again, gesturing with his sword. "I don't know you and I don't trust you! They did something to me!"

"Sire – Arthur, " Leon tried again. "It's Leon. I swear, you do know me and no one has done anything to you. You're just sick. But you're safe and at home in Camelot."

For a brief, tiny moment, Arthur allowed his eyes to stray from them and he glanced around the corridor they were in as if to check the truthfulness of his words. It wasn't terribly far from his chambers – maybe down a hallway and around a corner. But there were no banners with the Pendragon crest on them visible from here and that seemed to be what he was looking for. Finally, he shook his head, coughing once again and not only looking frustrated but perhaps a little scared as well now.

"I don't trust you." Arthur insisted stubbornly. "This… all of this is wrong. I was… I was somewhere else and you're not… I don't trust you. If you – if you try and touch me, I'll gut you. I swear I will" He warned lowly. His hands were shaking now.

Nodding his head, Leon stepped back easily, offering Arthur more space.

"No one will hurt you, Arthur. We'll leave you alone and we'll find someone that you can trust."

Turning to the men beside, Leon quickly came up with a plan.

"Rand," he pointed towards the open corridor to the left of them. It was the only other viable exit or entry other than the corridor Leon had walked up and he really didn't want someone walking in on the prince while he was like this. "Go down that hallway and make sure no one comes up through there. And Ghislain, go find Merlin and bring him here as quickly as you can."

Two soft spoken 'right away, Sir's and they disappeared, leaving both Leon and Arthur alone, both of them waiting for one thing or another to happen.

Fortunately, Leon didn't have to wait very long and he heard Merlin coming before he actually saw him.

The servant was running and he skidded around the corner, looking both deeply concerned and relieved, suggesting to Leon that he had likely already been looking for Arthur as well.

He wondered for a moment how Arthur had slipped past his watch and made a note to scold him later for it. Something like this never should have happened.

Merlin took everything in and after a brief moment to compose himself, carefully approached, nodding once to Leon in gratitude before turning all his attention to Arthur. Arthur, who was still exhaustedly using the wall for support, trembling and tired and obviously out of sorts. His sword was pointed low towards the ground as if it were too heavy to hold up defensively and with how weak he was looking, it was probably the truth.

"Hey Arthur." Merlin greeted quietly, stepping slowly into Arthur's space. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Arthur's eyes tracked Merlin warily as he approached before something like recognition flickered in his eyes. The change was almost instant. "Merlin," he whispered in obvious relief, his shoulders drooping slightly. "It's… you're here. I thought… I don't remember." He glanced around, swallowing thickly, confused and more visibly stressed than just a moment ago. "But you… you were gone and I… thought maybe... I don't know. I don't know where I am anymore." He admitted in a small voice.

Merlin nodded, offering the prince a reassuring smile. "You're safe at home in Camelot, Sire." He stepped a little closer and gently pulled Arthur's sword out of his hand. Arthur let him take it though he glanced uncertainly at Leon as if he expected him to attack at any moment.

"You're sure?"

"I am."

Without turning around, Merlin extended his right hand – the one holding the sword – backwards towards Leon for him to take.

"But," Arthur struggled to find the words, glancing around again in dismay, even as Merlin took another, more confident step forward. He reached up and rested the back of his hand against Arthur's forehead for a moment. "It's… nothing looks right? You can see that, don't you?"

"Everything looks okay to me, Arthur." Merlin said simply. "I know it probably doesn't seem that way but you can trust me, right?"

Arthur paused, and Merlin drew his hand back. "I... tell you my secrets." Arthur muttered, glancing at Merlin for confirmation that this was true.

"You do. And your secrets are always safe with me." Merlin agreed easily, carefully ducking under Arthur's arm and pulling it across his shoulder, supporting some of Arthur's weight. Leon met his eyes briefly and gestured to Arthur, silently asking if he wanted assistance but Merlin only shook his head. Without any further prompting, he began leading Arthur in the direction of his chambers, his steps slow and patient as he matched Arthur's uncertain speed. "It's just because you're tired though. A little sleep and you'll feel much better. Promise."

"...I want to feel better now."

Merlin huffed a quiet laugh. "Gods, wouldn't that be something?" He teased lightly, shaking his head good-naturedly.

"You don't know when?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"When what?"

"When I won't be sick?" Arthur coughed again, a deep, uncomfortable sound and Merlin paused to let him catch his breath. Leon bit his lip, concerned and wishing there was something he could do to help but not wanting the prince to get upset again. It was... unsettling to see Arthur so unlike himself.

"You'll feel better in the morning."

"Promise?"

Merlin hesitated. "Yeah." He agreed after a moment. "I promise."

Frowning, Leon could only wish he were so optimistic. He didn't approve of Merlin lying to Arthur about getting better that quickly, even if just to appease him for a moment. It seemed cruel though Leon had no doubt Merlin didn't mean it as such. There was simply no guarantee with sickness. It was unwise to promise health to someone, even someone you cared deeply about. As a physician in training, Merlin should know that by now.

And yet. Maybe when it came to Arthur, Leon could concede to Merlin's opinion.

They moved slowly onwards, turning the first corner with Leon trailing a few steps behind them, watching closely. Despite himself, and not that he would ever wish to repeat this experience, he still couldn't help but be quietly impressed with the whole thing.

It was hardly a secret at this point that Arthur was friends with his servant. It was rare to see one of them without the other anymore. Where Arthur went, Merlin was sure to follow and it had been that way for years. Leon didn't know everything – hell, he doubted anyone knew everything that went on between these two. There were walls between them – he supposed that social ranking made it difficult for there not to be… but there was always a feeling that Arthur and Merlin shared something special between them. It was just that no one else really got to witness that. They were all just on the outside looking in. Merlin was the servant and Arthur was the prince and that was all they were supposed to be.

Nobles didn't typically befriend their servants. It was frowned upon, though Leon knew that there were always favorites. The rich and wealthier members of court might be high and mighty and think a little too highly of themselves but they were still human. Prone to the same emotions and weaknesses as anyone else. It just wasn't something generally talked about.

Leon had known Arthur almost his entire life. They'd trained together and fought together and grew up together. Leon had openly pledged his loyalty to him when he received his knighthood and again at the Round Table. He liked to consider Arthur a friend and was more willing to do so now that he was less of a spoiled prince and more of a man, a future king, that he knew was worth following. He would have served Arthur regardless - his family was and always had been loyal to the royal family of Camelot - but it helped that he could be proud of his future leader.

He couldn't remember Arthur having many close friends in earlier years. He spent a lot of time in his private studies, preparing for the day when he'd be king. He was engaged in his responsibilities as a royal and the rest of his time was spent training for knighthood. There was no use being a king if you didn't command the respect of your own army. For a time, there had always been someone around him. Usually more than one, just the sons of other nobles who liked Arthur because it was impressive to be associated with royalty. Arthur eventually grew out of that stage and now he spent time with people that he considered genuine and of a good heart and mind.

Character mattered to him and Arthur only seemed to extend his trust to those people who were worthy of it.

But all their years together and in a moment of sickness induced delusion, it wasn't Leon or a knight or even his private guards that he trusted implicitly – it was his servant.

There was a creaking sound and Leon pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked up, realizing that they'd made it back to Arthur's room. Stepping forward, he helped Merlin push the door back open so that they could enter without the risk of it swinging back to hit either of them.

"I think... I think I want a bath," Arthur was saying quietly, almost pleadingly. Merlin carefully eased Arthur into a nearby chair, spread a blanket over him, and told him not to move. Leon waited hesitantly in the doorway.

He watched as Merlin took a moment to throw a log or two on the fire and stoke it so that the room stayed warm and then quickly place a hot brick that was positioned near the fire under the sheets at the foot of Arthur's bed.

Merlin looked exhausted. Leon hadn't noticed until just now but it was true. He seemed just as worn out as Arthur was and there was certainly evidence strewn about the room to suggest that he had been kept quite busy tending to Arthur while he was sick the past few days.

"Whatever you want, Arthur." He responded sincerely, if tiredly. There was a pail of water also sitting near the foot of Arthur's bed and Merlin grabbed that and brought it closer to Arthur, who had slumped a little lower in his chair. He pulled two wet clothes from it, ringing them out slightly and placed one on the back of Arthur's neck and the other over his eyes.

"S'not what you usually say." Arthur mumbled.

"Ah, well. Don't get used to it." Merlin teased again. "Sit here for a few minutes and get warm. I'll take care of it for you."

"...kay."

Merlin sighed and then turned his attention back to Leon, coming back towards him. "I... I don't suppose you'd be willing to stop by the kitchens and ask for warm bath water to be brough up," he asked hesitantly, lowering his voice as Arthur presumably began to doze. "I know that isn't your job but the last time I turned my back for a few minutes... he disappeared on me."

Ah. So that was what had happened.

Ordinarily, Leon wouldn't care much to be asked to assist in servants' chores. But it was for Arthur and kif it helped him feel or get better, then he was willing to do that.

"I don't mind. I'll let them know."

Merlin nodded, scrubbing his face tiredly for a moment and glancing over his shoulder to check that Arthur hadn't moved. He hadn't.

The servant blinked and then seemed to remember something. "Thank you." He said quickly. "For earlier and for sending someone to get me. He disappeared so fast - I'm not sure what he thought he was looking for."

Leon shrugged. "I think you were the one he was looking for." He said honestly, before turning to leave. Merlin started to close the door after him but then Leon paused and turned back.

"What you said to him earlier - that he'll be better tomorrow... did you mean it?"

Merlin looked surprised and then somewhat amused. "Of course."

"How can you know though?" Leon insisted. "That's not... people don't say things like that."

Offering him a wry smile, Merlin just shrugged. "For one thing, he really isn't that sick." he assured calmly, with enough confidence that Leon couldn't help but really want to believe him. "The out of sorts thing only lasts for a few minutes, usually. And second... well. I don't make promises that I can't keep. Arthur will be fine and back to normal tomorrow."

Merlin had always been good and quick with words. He could be sharp-tongued and clever and there had been a few occasions in the past where Leon had gotten the strangest feeling that the servant used this to his advantage. That it was more than humor, more than just being quick for the sake of being quick - there was purpose behind it. Leon couldn't say with any confidence what that purpose was - after all, what could a servant possible have to hide? - but he also couldn't shake the intuition.

Merlin was confident now. Perfectly confident, about something that even the very best of physicians were rarely willing to express confidence about. It was different and it was strange and yet, Merlin wasn't lying.

Leon raised his eyebrows. "Just because you said he will be?" he said slowly.

"Yup."

Leon stepped back from the doorway again, shaking his head slowly. "Hell of a thing to be able to promise." he said carefully, with only the tiniest bit of a warning in his voice. Not waiting for an answer, he began making his way towards the kitchens, thoughts and questions and even some small wistful wish that it really could be that easy.

It wasn't until after he finally returned to his rooms a little while later that he had the thought that it would be almost like magic if someone really could follow through on a promise like that.

And the next morning, when the news came that Arthur's fever had indeed broken and he was much recovered, just as Merlin had promised, Leon spared a thought to wonder if it hadn't been magic after all.

A/N I don't even know what this is. But I don't hate it so now I'm sharing. XD

Arthur legit just has a fever, btw. He's fine but also, way back when, people that got fevers died so Leon is allowed to be concerned.

Let me know what you think!