Merlin opened his eyes suddenly thrown into consciousness by coughing for the second time that night. He stood up quickly (too quickly, he thought, thrown off balance by a rush of dizziness) and walked from the camp, hoping not to wake any of the other men. Once he was far enough away, he sat down and leaned against a rough tree, trying to catch his breath. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he wasn't just breathing with his mouth open and that maybe he was catching a cold. Great, he thought, letting out another few light coughs, just another thing for Arthur to tease me for. Merlin still hadn't forgotten the last time he was ill on a hunt, and how Arthur had teased him relentlessly about scaring away the game. Once he was sure that his lungs had settled down, Merlin stood from his spot at the foot of the tree (again, too quickly, he thought, as his body was taken over by dizziness once more) and made his way back to camp. Once he arrived, he settled down in a different spot than before, so as to make sure that if he was coming down with something, he wouldn't infect any of his friends. He slowly made himself comfortable before attempting to drift off to sleep. However, his throat had a different plan, and a sudden and sharp cough cut through the silence of the night, and he heard one of the knights stir from the other side of the camp. Then, footsteps.
"Merlin?" He heard Lancelot say quietly, voice rough from sleep. "What are you doing over here? Are you alright?" Merlin cleared his throat before answering, not wanting another incident.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got something stuck in my throat. Sorry for waking you." Merlin could sense rather that hear Lancelot sit down beside him, and could feel his friend's hand on his forehead, gauging for fever. Merlin pushed the hand away and laughed a bit. "I said I'm fine. See? No fever."
"I was just checking. I don't want you getting too sick out here."
"I'm not ill." Countered Merlin, frustrated and tired. "I'm just… tired. And I didn't want to wake anyone up." Lancelot chuckled, then laid down next to his friend. Merlin tried to protest, but Lancelot quieted him.
"I'm too tired to stand back up. And besides, Gwaine snores." Merlin snorted a laugh, as Lancelot was not wrong, but the laugh lead to another cough. However, this time he was able to stifle it under his hand as to not wake anyone else up. Lancelot turned his head toward the young warlock and frowned. "You sure you're feeling alright?"
"Of course." Whispered Merlin, already halfway to sleep.
"Okay…" Replied Lancelot, still unsure but able to take a hint. "Get some rest, Merlin. Arthur wants us to be up by first light, and he won't take kindly to sleeping in." Merlin smiled but did not reply, and within minutes they were both asleep once more.
As Lancelot predicted, the King was up at dawn, already starting to pack up camp. The other knights soon followed, and then Merlin. Arthur handed a pack of cooking supplies to Merlin without looking at his servant's face, and continued with putting out the fire. Gwaine, however, did look at Merlin's face, and when he did, he frowned in concern.
"Merlin, what's the matter with you? You look tired. Have you been sneaking liquor with you again?" Merlin shrugged and rubbed his eyes blearily.
"I didn't sleep well last night."
"Right." Replied Gwaine, then set off to mount his horse. "You coming?" It took Merlin a moment to realize that the other knights have already packed up everything and were waiting for him on their horses. Merlin pasted on a smile and mounted his as well.
"Of course. Let's go."
"We're lost, sire." Declared Elyan, exasperated with the young King.
"I'm telling you, we're not lost. It's just a… detour. We'll be back home soon."
"Right. You said that two hours ago, my lord." Added Gwaine, clearly frustrated as well.
"And two hours before that." Lancelot reminded them, chuckling at the predicament. In truth, Arthur had no idea where they were, and neither did anyone else.
"Did anyone try going South?" Asked Merlin, then coughed twice into his wrist. "As we went North before?"
"As always, Merlin, you're lack of intellect surprises me. We have been moving South this whole time." Merlin blinked in surprise.
"But, then, shouldn't we be getting closer to the castle?" Asked Merlin, clearly confused and, now that Arthur looked a bit closer at his servant, exhausted.
"Yes, we should. That's why we're confused. Because we still cannot see the castle." Arthur glanced at Merlin again to see him quickly stifling a few coughs into his sleeve, shoulders heaving with the effort of keeping quiet. "Merlin, if you need to cough, just cough. It's more annoying to hear you squeak." The young warlock blushed immensely before coughing for real, making Lancelot wince at the sound. Just as he suspected, the cold Merlin was fighting off before seemed to have moved to his chest, if the wet-sounding coughs coming from the young man were anything to judge by. Arthur looked taken aback by the sound as well, but simply shrugged a bit and turned his horse.
"Well, we should keep going." Elyan said tentatively, not oblivious to the tension going on beneath the scene, but also ready to get home and see his sister.
"Of course," Arthur said loudly, "I promised Gwen that we would be back by tonight, and the sun is beginning to set."
"Sire, if I may." Interrupted Lancelot, now worried about Merlin, "We have been riding all day, and I'm beginning to get hungry. Maybe we should rest tonight and reorient ourselves tomorrow." In truth, Lancelot was just fine with continuing to ride, but Merlin looked about ready to fall off his horse, and from the few looks the two exchanged, Lancelot could see the paleness in the boy's face. Arthur looked hesitant, as did Elyan, but then Gwaine spoke up.
"I believe we should rest as well." He said confidently. In truth, he had not missed the coughing and the exhaustion taking hold in the young warlock, and was also a bit worried, but of course wouldn't show it. That was Lancelot's job.
"Fine," Agreed Arthur, "But we ride at dawn!" A chorus of "Of course"'s and "Yes, sire"'s rang through the group, and they found a small clearing in which they could make camp. They all dismounted and began to set up camp, Merlin pausing every few minutes to cough harshly into his sleeve and Lancelot pausing every few minutes to make sure the servant is okay. In fact, the servant was not okay, and he knew it. Throughout the day, Merlin's throat had continued to burn, his head continued to pound, and he had the beginnings of a pain in his chest as well as an ache in his bones. He had sincerely hoped that whatever he was coming down with would leave without taking hold, but that apparently did not happen.
"Merlin, not that I'm complaining, but you're being unusually quiet today. Is something the matter?" Merlin's head snapped up and focused on the young king who had just spoken. His face was indifferent, but his eyebrows were knitted together in a way that spoke of concern. Merlin coughed before answering.
"No, not at all, I'm fine." He answered, but not without noticing that his voice was several notes lower, and that speaking sent a sharp pain through his throat. The knights frowned after hearing Merlin speak, but the King kept his voice impassive as he replied.
"Right, which I suppose is why you sound like you swallowed a sword. Are you ill?"
"Maybe a bit. But I'm fine, really! It's just a cold." Arthur didn't believe him, of course, but let it go (for now, he thought to himself). As much as he would deny it, Arthur had grown to care for the idiot, despite all his shortcomings, and didn't like when the servant became ill. Last year, Merlin managed to catch lung fever, a potentially deadly infection of the lungs, which led to a month of fevered dreams and coughing up blood. Arthur did not enjoy the time without his manservant, and not just because of all the chores that went undone. He missed the casual banter and conversation, more than he would really care to admit. So, when he saw that Merlin was ailing, he decided to take it easy for the day. However, it seemed that the day of easy riding did not do his servant any good, and the light cough from yesterday had moved to his chest.
"Be that as it may, I think resting tonight will do us all good. Why don't you rest, Merlin, and Gwaine can make dinner."
"You're joking, sire. You must be!" Exclaimed Gwaine, to the laughter of the rest of the men. Arthur laughed as well, but quieted quickly.
"Of course I'm joking. Elyan will do it." He glanced at Elyan to see if that's okay, and he nodded to confirm that this was, indeed, an alright task to hand him. Merlin looked as if he would protest, but Lancelot's hand on his shoulder reminded him that he was ill, and he should take any opportunity as it comes to rest. He quietly sat on a nearby log and coughed a couple times, wincing as the pain in his chest flared with every cough. He didn't notice when Arthur sat next to him, holding a container of water.
"Drink." The king ordered, and Merlin did. When he was done, he coughed once more and handed the container back to Arthur.
"Thanks." He said quietly, staring at his feet.
"Don't mention it. Get some rest. I expect you to be better by tomorrow though." Arthur smiled and clapped his servant on the back.
"Of course, sire." Merlin rasped, then laughed, which quickly turned into a cough. Arthur's smile faded as the young warlock coughed, forcibly reminding him of the bout with lung fever. The illness scared everyone, especially Gaius. Arthur had never seen the physician so worried about anyone, or so scared. Arthur briefly wondered if Merlin was coming down with it again, but after listening to the young warlock's cough a bit more, he realized that this cough was different. It wasn't as productive, and there was no blood, and no fever. Well, thought Arthur, there may be a fever, noticing the sheen of sweat on Merlin's brow and the way he shuddered despite the relatively warm night. Deciding not to say anything more, Arthur stood up and walked to the other side of camp, where Gwaine and Elyan were engaged in a game of some sort. Lancelot, on the other hand, had taken Arthur's place next to Merlin and was gently rubbing the warlock's back as the fit subsided. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, Arthur tried to forget all about lung fevers and coughs and tried instead to immerse himself in the dice game being played with the two knights.
Lancelot, on the other hand, was beginning to get frightened. After the coughing stopped, there was an audible wheeze coming from his friend's chest, and he seemed to not be able to get his breath back. From the hand Lancelot kept on Merlin's back, he could tell that the young boy was beginning to get a small fever as well.
"You need to sleep this off Merlin. You don't want to be riding around all day tomorrow with this cough. Just lay down. You'll probably feel better in the morning. Lancelot laid down and closed his eyes, hoping Merlin would follow suit. Thankfully, the young warlock did, and without a word, he laid down next to his friend, unconsciously drawing close to the heat of the knight, as the fever was beginning to make Merlin shiver. Lancelot, slightly uncomfortable with how close the ill warlock was to him, nevertheless let Merlin sidle up next to him, but glared angrily at the other knights as they began to snicker at the position their fellow knight found himself in. He wasn't angry at Merlin, however, just worried. Well, he thought, at least I won't be cold tonight. He chuckled slightly at this thought, and, with a final hope that this better not be contagious, he drifted off to sleep.
